A Journey of the Heart (31 page)

"What a lovely thing to find lying about on a riverbank," she said. She caressed the side of my breast lightly with one finger.

I was about to take Sparrow into my arms when I wondered where Maara was. I sat up and looked around. Her clothes no longer lay with mine on the riverbank.

Sparrow stood up and pulled me to my feet.

"Come on," she said, and drew me in the direction of the willow tree.

"Wait."

I wanted to pick up my clothing and my bow, but Sparrow wouldn't release my hand.

"They'll be fine where they are," she said.

She took me in her arms and kissed me, and desire made me forget everything else.

Under the willow tree, we lay down. I was impatient. I tried to help Sparrow unfasten the ties of her shirt, but my hands were shaking, and she pushed them away.

"What's gotten into you?" she said. She was laughing at me a little, but beneath the laughter I heard her own excitement. She slipped off her boots and trousers. "Have you missed me that much?"

I reached for her. If I had been honest with myself, I would have known that it was not Sparrow I had missed. I had missed being touched. I had missed feeling cared for, as I always felt cared for after we made love. I knew that others cared for me. My heart knew how much others cared for me, but my body needed to be told, in a language it could understand, that someone loved all of me, enough to create this need in me and satisfy it.

Sparrow had always been gentle with me. Now I was impatient with her gentleness. Tenderness had been so much a part of the way we touched each other, but this time my body demanded something else. This time we grappled with each other like adversaries. My body spoke to hers in a language that was strange to me, but she knew it well. She knew that I was angry with her, because she couldn't give me what I wanted.

She satisfied my body. That was easy. When I lay quiet in her arms, she kissed my tears away.

"I'm not crying," I told her.

"Hush," she whispered. "Of course you are."

We spent a long afternoon together under the willow tree. Sparrow told me about a few of her adventures that summer. I think she left out the parts that would have frightened me. She never mentioned Vintel.

"Where is your warrior today?" I asked her.

"Visiting some farm or other, I suppose."

"I'm surprised she didn't take you with her."

"She did. I complained that I wasn't feeling well, and she let me come home."

I opened my mouth to ask her if she truly was unwell, but Sparrow chuckled.

"Silly," she said. "I wanted to see you."

"Oh." Then I worried that Vintel would come back to Merin's house and discover that Sparrow wasn't there.

Sparrow touched the frown line that had appeared on my brow. "Don't worry," she said. "She won't be angry with me."

We arrived home in time for dinner. As I took my place at the companions' table, I caught a glimpse of Vintel out of the corner of my eye. She was deep in conversation with several of her sister's warriors, but I was certain she had seen us come in, and I hoped Sparrow wouldn't have to pay too great a price for our stolen afternoon.

Sparrow went over to Vintel and whispered something in her ear. Vintel smiled. I was relieved for Sparrow's sake. They spoke with each other for a few minutes. When Sparrow turned away and came back to the companions' table, Vintel's eyes followed her until Sparrow sat down beside me. Then Vintel's eyes found mine. A scowl replaced the half-smile on her face, and I quickly looked away.

"What did you tell her?" I asked Sparrow.

"I told her I was feeling better."

"That's all?"

"And that I'd come to her this evening, if she needed anything."

I had no illusions about what Vintel might need from Sparrow. I frowned my disapproval.

Sparrow put her hand on my arm. "She's my friend, Tamras. I don't mind."

Taia sat down across the table from me. Although she was now a warrior, entitled to sit with the other warriors as their equal, she preferred the company of friends. I admired her for it.

"I think your sister has picked out her teacher," Taia whispered, giving Sparrow a sly glance.

"Tamar?" I asked.

"Do you have another sister I don't know about?"

I shook my head.

"She's been pestering me all day, asking questions about a certain someone."

"I won't be a warrior for at least another year," said Sparrow, "so she had better look elsewhere."

"I think she'll wait," Taia replied. "I think she might have a little case of hero worship."

Sparrow frowned. "She'll soon grow out of it."

"Maybe." Taia chuckled to herself. "But in the meantime, don't be surprised if you catch sight of her every time you turn around."

Sparrow sighed. "That's happening already. She followed us a few days ago. When we discovered her, it was too late to send her back alone, so Vintel let her tag along."

That news made me uneasy. I had no objection to Tamar being close to Sparrow, but much of the time being close to Sparrow meant being close to Vintel too.

It was several days before I could get Tamar alone to talk to her. Whenever I approached her, she always had something urgent that had to be attended to. I knew she was avoiding me, and I finally cornered her. She was sitting by herself in the shadow of the earthworks near the practice ground, watching the apprentices spar from a discreet distance.

While she was trying to think up yet another reason that she had to be somewhere else, I sat down beside her, and because I was annoyed with her, I spoke more harshly than I meant to.

"Why do you always do just the thing I ask you not to do?" I said.

She gave me a blank look. It seemed genuine, not her usual expression of mock innocence when she had done something she knew I would object to. I tried to be more patient with her. "I told you to stay away from Vintel."

"I do stay away from her."

"You followed her."

"Not Vintel."

"You didn't follow Vintel's band the other day?"

Tamar's cheeks were tinged with pink. "It wasn't Vintel I was following," she said. On her face was the beginning of a stubborn pout.

"You can't follow Sparrow and stay away from Vintel at the same time."

Now her cheeks burned red. "I wasn't."

I looked over at the practice ground, where Sparrow and Taia were sparring with each other.

Tamar saw that I had found her out.

"She's wonderful," Tamar whispered. "Look."

As I watched my friend spar with Taia, who had begun to show much more interest in becoming an accomplished swordswoman, I realized that what I saw and what Tamar saw were two very different things. I tried to remember how the apprentices had appeared to me before I became one of them. I had certainly felt the warmth of hero worship around my heart, but in Tamar's eyes there was something more. Her face shone with a pride that had something of possession in it, as if Sparrow were perfect, and as if that perfection were Tamar's own discovery.

"She's head over heels," I said to Maara, as we sat together that evening on the hillside outside the earthworks.

The sky shone red and gold. Towering thunderheads lost their black hearts in a blaze of color. I watched their eerie light reflected in Maara's eyes.

Frown lines appeared on Maara's brow. "Does that worry you?"

"I've been trying to keep her away from Vintel. I don't think she takes my warnings seriously, and if she insists on being with Sparrow every waking moment -- "

"Ah." Maara's eyes searched mine. My heart heard the question she didn't ask. Did I see my own sister as a rival?

"Sparrow is my friend," I said. "I trust her to keep the balance between her loyalty to her warrior and her loyalty to me. But Tamar is too young to have a divided heart, and I fear Vintel's influence over her."

Maara nodded. "Tamar is at the age where one knows everything." A sly twinkle appeared in her eye. "At that age her older and much wiser sister was no different."

A cloud of doubt settled around my heart. Maara saw that I had misunderstood her.

"Don't you remember, Tamras?" she said gently. "You insisted that you knew what was best for you, and you were right. Your undivided heart showed you the path you were meant to take."

I looked away from her at the darkening sky.

"The path I chose has brought trouble to people I care for," I told her. "It has brought trouble to Sparrow, to Merin, to Namet." I met her eyes. "To you."

"Not to me," she whispered. "Not to me."

The words,
not yet,
echoed in my head. I couldn't say them aloud. While my mind considered the trouble that might still come to Maara through me, my heart grew light with hope.

Late that night as I lay in my bed in the companions' loft, I thought over what Maara had said. In a way she had accused me of standing between my sister and her heart's desire. Something was drawing Tamar in a direction that she couldn't help but take, no matter how much I might disapprove of it.

I remembered what that felt like and how, against all opposition, I had been determined to take the path my heart chose for me. Tamar too was following her heart. She would find her own path, and I could either help or hinder her.

At dawn the next morning I got Tamar out of bed. She was too sleepy to complain. She stumbled after me down the stairs and out the kitchen door. We were sitting together on the damp earth under the ancient trees of the oak grove before she found her tongue.

"If you're going to kidnap me every morning to keep me from going where I please, I'll find another place to sleep," she said.

"Hush," I said. "I'll do no such thing. I brought you here because I owe you an apology."

I had to smile a little at the look of surprise on her face.

"I had no right to tell you what to do," I said. "I trust you to find your own way. Even if the path you choose seems dangerous to me, I promise I won't interfere."

I watched Tamar's expression change. She smiled at me with a shy openness that touched my heart.

"Just keep in mind the dangers I've told you about," I said.

"I haven't forgotten," she replied. "I hardly speak to Vintel."

"I'd rather you didn't speak to her at all," I said, a bit too sharply, and watched the good my words had done undo itself.

Tamar bristled. "I must speak if I'm spoken to. To do otherwise would be rude and would do nothing but call attention to me."

I sighed and thought of all the times my warrior had spoken to me as I was now trying to speak to Tamar. Even when Maara said things that hurt my feelings, I knew she spoke the painful words because she cared for me.

"Forgive me," I said. "I only meant to give you good advice. I can't tell you what to do and what not to do. I must leave that to your own good judgment."

Tamar's bristling resentment subsided. "My own good judgment?"

I nodded.

Her smile returned. "Perhaps it was my own good judgment that kept me quiet long enough to notice what was happening around me. Did you know that Vintel has warriors quartered on the farms along our eastern border?"

It was now Tamar's turn to enjoy my look of surprise.

"How do you know that?" I asked her.

Tamar gave an exaggerated shrug. "I'm nobody," she said. "I'm not even anyone's companion yet. I'm as insignificant as a worm, and no one minds if the worms hear what they say."

"Have you heard Vintel speak of this?"

She shook her head. "I've only heard the warriors speak of it, and there are many things they don't say in Vintel's hearing."

I knew that to be true. What warriors spoke of among themselves generally took the form of a complaint, or criticism of whatever authority they were subject to. It used to bother me, until I realized that it was traditional and was done whether they had anything to complain about or not.

"How many warriors are there at each farm, do you think?" I asked.

"Not many. Three or four at most. If they become a burden to the farmers, they'll find themselves unwelcome."

"But why?" I wondered aloud. "We'll be in no danger from the northern tribes once the snow falls."

"I couldn't tell you why," she said. "I don't think the warriors themselves know why. They're just glad to be in a warm place with plenty to eat and friends to swap stories with. And more than one young man has his eye out for a country girl."

I gave my little sister a look of genuine admiration.

"You surprise me, Tamar," I said.

Although Tamar tried to hide her smile, she enjoyed my praise. Then I wondered if she would show me her heart.

"Is that why you followed Sparrow?" I asked her. "To spy on Vintel?"

Tamar turned red to the tips of her ears.

"I suppose not." I smiled at her. "Sparrow is my friend, Tamar. She is worthy of your admiration. You've chosen well."

It unsettled me that Sparrow hadn't said anything about Vintel quartering her warriors on the farms, but I didn't voice my doubts aloud to Tamar. First I had to talk to Sparrow.

"Where else can we put them all?" Sparrow asked me, when I spoke to her that evening. "Merin's house is bursting at the seams."

"Is that the only reason?"

"What other reason could there be?"

I shrugged. Although I couldn't think of one, the news still bothered me.

We were sitting by ourselves in a dark corner of the great hall, where we wouldn't be noticed or overheard. Maara was upstairs with Namet. Vintel had gone to bed.

Sparrow frowned at me. "You're so suspicious. Can't you believe in her good intentions just a little?"

I made a noise with my tongue that told her I believed in Vintel's good intentions not at all.

That made Sparrow angry.

"I know she's not your favorite person in the world," she said, "but you do her an injustice. Hasn't it occurred to you that if you treated her with some respect, she might have more respect for you?"

It was the first time Sparrow had sided with Vintel against me, and it hurt my feelings. When Sparrow saw that her words had stung, she slipped her arm around me.