Pretender to the Crown, page 28
Kerish sank down beside her, awkwardly. “This seems fine to me,” he said, “and I like the company.”
“Me too.”
They sat in silence, this one a silence that didn’t need to be filled with anything. The pain in Willow’s head was diminishing to a dull, distant throb, but she was becoming conscious of other aches. She’d be a mass of bruises in the morning. Despite her growing exhaustion, she didn’t feel sleepy. Like Kerish, her worry for Alondra was an ever-present niggling at the back of her mind. Kerish’s tent wasn’t very far away, but she couldn’t hear any sounds that might be a woman deeply in labor. In fact, the whole camp was surprisingly peaceful given the turmoil it had been in just an hour before.
She wondered what had happened to the dowser. She was as complicit in those deaths, in all that destruction, in Alondra’s premature labor, as the damned Ascendants. She glanced at Kerish. He’d told her, more than once, how wonderful it was to touch source, like having your bones hum with cold fire. How could he bear to turn such beauty and power toward helping Ascendants use their talents for their own selfish ends? “What happened to the dowser?” she asked.
“Maitea is questioning her. Not that even she expects to get much information out of the woman that we didn’t already know or suspect. But if the dowser confesses to being Terence’s tool, that’s something Mother can use in Conclave to persuade the other harems to support whatever plan she has.”
“Is she….”
“They might execute her. But I think it’s more likely they’ll let her run back to Tremontane with a ‘message’ for Terence. Specifically that we now know what he’s willing to do and we have evidence we can use against him.” He leaned his head back to rest against the tent pole. “I don’t know what they did with the soldiers. They wouldn’t have let them live.”
Willow crushed her squeamishness about the dowser’s fate, about the soldiers’ fates, into nothing. The dowser had been indirectly responsible for eight deaths and who knew how many injuries, she’d been willing to kill a child, and the Principality had every right to determine her fate.
Kerish had looked away again, toward his tent. What did he feel about the possibility the dowser might be killed? If things had turned out differently, he might even have been in her position. Though that was still unlikely. The Eminence wouldn’t send his pet dowser out on a desperate raid, and the Serjian Principality probably wouldn’t execute one of their own.
She remembered Alondra’s words about Amberesh, and shuddered. She still knew so little of their customs it was a bad idea for her to make assumptions. Had Alondra told Janida about Amberesh before the attack? She hugged her knees and tilted her head to see Kerish more clearly, thought about kissing him, told herself it was a bad idea, and went back to tracing the strong line of his jaw with her eyes.
As if he could feel her gaze on him, Kerish turned to look at her. He’d done that so often she’d teased him about having inherent magic of his own. He’d just smiled and said he always knew when she was thinking about him. He wasn’t smiling now, though he didn’t look angry or sad, just thoughtful. Then he reached out, slowly, and took her left hand in his right and twined his fingers with hers.
His hand was as warm and smooth as she remembered, dark against her paler skin, and it took her back to another night, not his birthday and not that frozen midnight when they’d first met, just one of a hundred nights where they’d sat together, hand in hand, not needing to speak their love. I shouldn’t, she thought, but her hand didn’t want to let go.
She shifted to make them both more comfortable and rested her head on his shoulder. It didn’t change anything, couldn’t erase the past, but maybe just for a few hours she could pretend everything was all right between them. Kerish began speaking to her in quiet Eskandelic, but she was tired enough that she heard him in a daze. Eventually, despite her various pains, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Willow came awake abruptly to the sound of someone shouting. It was barely past dawn, and she felt damp with dew and sore as if she’d been—well, as if she’d been pelted with stones. She was lying with her head in Kerish’s lap, curled up like a kitten, and she sat up quickly, reddening with embarrassment. Beside her, Kerish was stretching as if he’d been asleep as well. “What is it?” she said.
Kerish stood up and helped her to her feet. “The baby,” he said. “Alondra and the baby are both well.” He ran off toward his tent, not waiting for her. Willow ducked inside her own tent and found Felix and Posea both stirring. Ernest had moved from the bed to beneath the bed at some point in the night and was still asleep.
“What’s happening, Willow?” Felix asked. Posea said something and tried to run past Willow, who grabbed her arm.
“No, we’re not going to go bursting in there,” she said. She’d taken to addressing Posea in Tremontanese sprinkled with her few words of Eskandelic, not because she expected the girl to understand, but because Posea responded well to her tone of voice, and Willow found it easiest to match tone with words if she spoke in her own language. “We’re going to clean up, and use the privy, and then we will see your new sibling, Posea.”
“Is there a baby?” Felix said. He looked nervous.
“Yes, Alondra had her baby. Don’t you want to see it?”
“I’ve never seen a baby before.”
“You’ve seen pictures of baby animals, right? And Ernest is practically still a baby dog. This is just another kind of baby. You don’t need to be nervous. It’s not like Alondra will let you hold it.”
“Okay.” He still looked nervous, and Willow wasn’t sure why until he added, “Will it die?”
“Of course not! At least, I think if that were going to happen they’d have made a different announcement.” She had no idea what the announcement actually said, but Kerish would have told her if it had meant anything dire.
She helped the children relieve themselves and wash their faces and hands, then led them to Kerish’s tent, where she stood outside, uncertain of what to do. Maybe they weren’t supposed to go in uninvited. Maybe there were customs—all right, there were certainly customs surrounding childbirth Willow didn’t know, but maybe those customs carried with them serious taboos she shouldn’t break. While she was hovering there, Catrela emerged from the tent and said, “Oh, good. I was Posea here to bring. Come inside.”
“We’re not family—”
“That is not of importance. Meet my new zuareta.” She shooed them inside. Willow had to drag on Felix’s hand to get him to follow, though Posea pulled free and chased after her mother immediately.
Alondra was in Kerish’s bed, sitting up. She looked exhausted but happy. A bundle wrapped in a soft blue blanket lay in her arms. “Willow,” she said, in a scratchy voice, “come my daughter to meet. Posea, do not jump.”
Willow dragged Felix to the bedside. “She’s beautiful,” she said, though the baby was wrinkled and red and her eyes were puffy. And yet she was beautiful, especially when she opened her tiny mouth and let out a yawn that made Willow’s eyes water in sympathy. “Does she have a name?”
“It is for Salveri his children to name,” Janida said. She was washing her hands in a corner, leaving the water pink with blood. “And Salveri is still not here.”
“He was upset,” Alondra said.
“Yes, and he self-indulgent is when he upset is,” Janida said crossly. Willow watched her move around the tent, stepping out of the way when Giara entered. She addressed her suorena in Eskandelic in the same cross tones. Giara shook her head and replied. She sounded sarcastic, and Alondra began to protest. Janida said something cut them both off and moved to the tent door, but reversed course immediately to get out of Salveri’s way.
The big man hesitated in the doorway. Alondra extended her free hand and with a huge smile said, “Salveri, khaladesi.” He came forward and dropped to his knees beside her, taking her hand and kissing it.
Willow couldn’t help looking at Janida, who, to her surprise, was watching all this with a tender smile on her lips, as if…Willow couldn’t think of anything to compare it to. She would never dream of criticizing their customs aloud, but to her it still seemed impossible that Janida could be so placid about her husband’s infatuation with a younger woman. Hell, how could she help deliver her husband’s child by that woman! Clearly it was a system that worked for them, but Willow was glad no one was asking her to participate.
Salveri gently lifted his daughter from Alondra’s arms and kissed her tiny forehead. She struggled and let out a meep, which made everyone laugh, even Willow. “She thinks you frightening are,” Alondra teased.
“Then she a brave name will have, that she fear nothing,” Salveri rumbled, and the baby let out a louder cry that subsided as Salveri held her close to his heart. “She is Caderina.”
Catrela sighed. “My mother’s name.”
“Another brave lady. A tigress.” Salveri handed the infant Caderina back to her mother and embraced Janida. “Another child this important day to grace. Where is our son?”
“Gone his duty to do by his majdran and prepare her wagon,” Janida said. “I think he will be grateful, the attention to share. Though I have remembered a thing I will add to my gift to him.”
“But we are not leaving now?” Salveri exclaimed. “Alondra should not travel so soon.”
“We are not equipped long to stay,” Janida said. “It must be as it is.”
“It is my choice, Salveri,” Alondra said. “I wish Caderina safe soon in Umberan.”
“Where there are three assassins, there may more be,” Giara said. “The Eminence may not have more Ascendants, but he will have other resources. Alondra knows this.”
Salveri scowled. “I will first tear their heads off.”
“We wish that unnecessary to make, husband,” Janida said. “Come, we will make ready. Willow North, you will again ride with Alondra and the children.”
Willow was becoming used to Janida’s “requests.” She didn’t much mind this one. She didn’t have any interest in being a mother, but babies fascinated her with their small bodies and the strange noises they made. She always wondered who they’d grow up to be. Maybe Salveri was right, and Caderina’s name would be a defense to her. Maybe she’d be a dowser like Kerish. Maybe that destiny would treat her better than it had him.
After breakfast, Willow oversaw the packing of their things, watched Ernest take the first of many opportunities to piss on the landscape that day, and helped the children into the wagon. “Alondra will need to rest, so no jumping or yelling,” she told them, or rather told Felix. Posea watched her with the same curious expression she always wore, and Willow wondered for the hundredth time what Posea thought of her.
“I’ll be quiet,” Felix promised. Now he didn’t look nervous, he looked frightened.
“Is something bothering you?” she asked.
Felix came closer. “Will the baby die?”
“I don’t think so. She’s small, but she seems healthy. You shouldn’t worry.”
“Babies die. My sister died.”
That was news to Willow. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” She vaguely remembered something about the Consort expecting another child, but nothing more.
“Everyone told me to be excited that my mama was having a baby, and then she was born and she died. Nobody ever said why. I was afraid it was my fault because I wasn’t excited about the baby, but Hilarion said that was foolishness and Kings don’t entertain foolish ideas.”
“Hilarion was right. It wasn’t your fault. And Caderina—” Probably not a good idea to promise him something out of her control. “Do you think worrying about her is going to keep her from dying?” Felix thought about it, then shook his head. “Then let’s just be happy, and don’t worry about things we can’t fix. I bet Hilarion told you something like that.”
“He says worry is a waste of imagination.”
“See? Now settle in, and I’ll get Ernest. You should find that pillow he loves so Alondra doesn’t have to sit on it. I didn’t think a puppy could shed that much.”
Kerish appeared just then with a long roll of something floppy that turned out to be a thin mattress. “Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” he said with a grin. He laid the mattress out over a layer of fat pillows, then wedged more pillows around it so it wouldn’t move. “I wish we didn’t have to go so soon, but Mother insists we not stay here to be a target, and since she was once in Alondra’s position, no one wants to argue that it’s impossible.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Willow helped spread blankets and arrange more pillows so Alondra could sit up. Salveri, bearing Alondra in his arms, came toward the wagon, followed by Janida holding Caderina. Willow got down to give them all more room to maneuver, then climbed in and pulled the ladder up behind her. “Do you need anything?” she asked Alondra, who still looked pale and exhausted.
“I am well. Only two days, and I will have true rest. I can endure that long.” She opened her robe and guided Caderina to her breast, then leaned her head back and closed her eyes as the baby suckled. “Though I have decided this will not happen again. I will in winter bear all my babies.”
“Can you, um, control that?” Willow asked, feeling awkward.
“Can you not? I know little of how Tremontanans conceive.”
“It’s not…well, it’s never been an issue for me.”
Alondra opened one eye to look at her. “You are old not to have sex.”
“I am not!” The wagon began moving, knocking Willow to her knees. She wished the cushions would swallow her up. “Tremontanans don’t usually have sex unless they’re married.”
“I see.” Alondra closed her eye. “Then are you too young married to be?”
“No. I just—” A handful of lies came to mind and she discarded them. “It just hasn’t worked out.”
“I hope you marry. It is wonderful.” A smile touched her lips. “And then there are children.”
“Someday,” Willow said, and moved forward to pummel Felix and Posea with pillows. It was as close to motherhood as she wanted to get.
***
Caderina was a quiet baby, rarely crying and then easily satisfied when her needs were met. The day was so uneventful, in fact, that Willow actually welcomed Amberesh’s leers as a break in the monotony. The young man seemed less interested in Alondra now that she had a child attached to her, so Willow got the full weight of his sexually aggressive smiles and covert gestures. She amused herself by returning his gestures with a few Tremontanan ones he clearly didn’t recognize. How strange that some things weren’t universal. Eventually he tired of the game and rode back to his place near the end of the line, and Willow settled in for a nap.
Getting Alondra out of the cart when they stopped for the evening was quite a production, with servants, Salveri, and a few of her harem sisters bustling around her to check her health and her comfort even though she insisted she was well enough to walk on her own. Willow thought she looked pale, though she was probably still losing blood, so that made sense.
She helped her own charges down and watched them go running away with some relief. Even the draining heat of midday hadn’t been enough to entirely curb their natural energies. Caira walked past, ignoring her. The woman continued distant, though not as annoyed as she’d been in the bath house, and Willow had resigned herself to enduring her zetesha’s ministrations. The whole idea made her uncomfortable still.
She saw Kerish approaching and had a moment’s confusion over what to do. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep on him, didn’t want him to mistake her acceptance of his tentative peace offering, but slighting him seemed wrong even if his presence did remind her of how much she’d wanted everything to be different the previous night. She decided to continue toward her tent—hers and Catrela’s now that people had to double up after last night’s disaster—and let him decide if he wanted to speak.
“Just one more night, and you can sleep in a real bed,” he said when they’d both come close enough together for speech. “You’ll love the Serjian residence.”
“You said,” Willow replied. “Ocean views and my own bathing room.”
“Compensations for how hard the harems work during Conclave.”
“So what is it you do while Conclave is in session?”
“I used to take classes. Lots of reading. Now I’ll probably visit one of the scholias and see if I can share any of the dowsing knowledge I gained with the faculty and students. Amberesh—” He grimaced. “My fuoreno is more characteristic of the sons of principalities. He’ll stay up late drinking and gambling, probably visit brothels, though a lot of men take mistresses while they’re here.”
“That’s…”
“It must seem really decadent to you.”
“We do have brothels. Carrying on short-term sexual relationships isn’t terribly damaging to one’s family bonds, even if people do look down on it. But that sounds…sorry, I don’t mean to criticize your culture.”
“It sounds slightly immoral to me, too, and I’m allowed to say that. Didn’t you tell me there’s a strange double standard about it in Tremontane?”
“Yes. There’s less stigma attached to being paid for sex than paying for it. Don’t ask why, nobody knows, not even my prostitute friends. Though bearing children outside a family bond is still frowned on.” She thought back to Alondra’s question that morning. All she knew about Tremontanan contraception was that it wasn’t as refined as its Eskandelic counterpart seemed to be. “But that doesn’t happen as often as you’d think.”
“Here either. They don’t—”
A few tents away, someone shouted a long, complicated string of Eskandelic words. Kerish stilled. “What is it?” Willow said.
“It’s Mother,” he said, and headed off in that direction. Willow followed him, wishing she spoke Eskandelic. She’d never heard Janida so angry before.
