A Magic of Dawn (25 page)
Authors: S. L. Farrell
“That might be good. She seems an excellent fit.”
“Then I’ll do that,” Rance said. “I’ve heard whispers that the Hïrzgin thought Felicia was rather short with her last week; Rhianna might make a good replacement. I’ll have the change made today.”
Jan shrugged. “Whatever you think best, Rance. It’s your staff to run. I’ll leave it to you. Now, is there something we can do about the audience with the A’Gyula? Perhaps the Hïrzgin could see him. He’s such a tedious boor . . .”
“Good night, children . . .” Jan kissed each of them in turn: Elissa, Kriege, Caelor, and little Eria. He nodded to the nursemaid, and she began to shepherd the children out of the room. Elissa hung behind stubbornly, a fierce scowl on her face. “I should be allowed to be at the ball tonight,” she said. “I’m not even the least bit sleepy, Vatarh.”
“Next year,” he told her.
“Next year isn’t until
forever,
” she answered, with an emphatic stamp of her foot.
forever,
” she answered, with an emphatic stamp of her foot.
Jan heard Brie snicker. He was sitting in the chair at Brie’s bedroom desk. She stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder. She wore only her shift, her hair unpinned and her jewelry on the dressing table. Jan could smell the perfume she’d just applied as she leaned down close to his ear. “She’s
your
daughter,” Brie whispered. “I hear you in her voice.”
your
daughter,” Brie whispered. “I hear you in her voice.”
Jan smiled. He gestured to Elissa to come to him. She did so, with a dramatic pout on her face. “If I say that you can attend the ball, then I’m going to have Kriege saying he should be allowed to be there, too.”
“Kriege’s only nine,” Elissa answered. “He’s practically a baby. I’m eleven. Nearly twelve.”
Jan felt Brie’s fingers tighten on his shoulder. He grinned. “I know,” he told her. “I’ll tell you what. If you go with the others now, I’ll have the nursemaid get you up and dressed in a turn of the glass, and you can come down to the ball for a bit. But you mustn’t let your brothers know.”
Elissa beamed and clapped her hands once together, then dropped them to her sides, putting a comically solemn look on her face. “Yes, Vatarh,” she said loudly, for the benefit of her brothers, still in the doorway with the maid. “I’ll just go on to bed, then.” Impulsively, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then her matarh’s. “Goodnight, Vatarh, Matarh.”
She pattered off with her siblings. Jan watched them leave, a helpless smile on his face. “If we were artists, we could not have created anything more beautiful than our children,” Brie said.
“I would agree,” Jan said. He turned in the chair to face her, his hands going to her hips—he could see the years and the costs of bearing the children in her body: she was no longer the slim, smooth beauty he’d married. Her body had widened and thickened over the years, lines had invaded her face, and the skin under her chin sagged. Her stomach was paunched, her breasts larger and heavier.
He had changed as well, he knew, but change was easier to see in others. He stroked the well-rounded flanks of her body, and she smiled down at him, pressing closer to him. “There’s still time,” she said. “I could have that new girl—what’s her name? Rhianna?—help me dress quickly. If you’d like . . .”
She leaned down. Her lips were still soft, still yielding, and after a moment he lost himself in the kiss. Her hands cupped his head, brought him up standing without breaking the embrace, then hugged him fiercely. As one, as if in a slow, passionate dance, they moved to the bed. Brie fell onto its cool softness and he allowed her to pull him down on top of her. He kissed her this time, a kiss that was harder and more insistent, and her hands moved lower on his body as he lifted the hem of her shift.
Afterward, they lay together in the tangled sheets. She smiled at Jan, her hand caressing his cheeks and brushing the hair back from his face, and he traced the line of her breasts, circling the aureoles with a forefinger and watching the sensitive skin respond. “That was nice,” he said to her.
“Yes.” She kissed him again—only a brush of lips this time. “Perhaps we’ll have created something new again.”
“Perhaps,” he told her, and he smiled though in truth he felt nothing at the thought. Children he had—those he could acknowledge and those he didn’t know at all, fathered on the occasional paramour who had to be sent away with a pouch of gold solas as a memory. Like Mavel cu’Kella.
“Sergei should be back in Nessantico today or tomorrow,” she said.
He laughed. “Where did
that
come from?”
that
come from?”
“I don’t know. I was just thinking. The children . . . It might be nice if they knew their great-matarh. Really knew her.”
Jan grunted wordlessly. His hand stopped moving, resting on her abdomen.
“Do you think she’ll agree to what you asked? Do you think Sergei can convince her to name you A’Kralj?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “Besides, Rance would tell me that’s what I want anyway, that it’s not good for Brezno.” That was no more than the truth. He didn’t know. Part of him agreed with Rance and wanted her to refuse, so that he would have an excuse to move against her. And part of him . . . Yes, part of him hoped she would agree, hoped that they might reconcile.
He just wasn’t sure which part was the stronger.
“The choice is Matarh’s,” he said. “It’s out of my hands now. I’ve made the offer; she can take it or not.”
“I hope she does,” Brie said. “It’s time. A family should not be so estranged.” She kissed him again, and rolled away from him. She glanced at the large sand-clock on the desk. “You should go back to your own room and get dressed,” she said. “We don’t have much time. I’ll call the hall attendant to fetch Rhianna and send someone to help you . . .”
She slid her shift and robe over her body and padded toward the hall door. Jan watched her, then pulled on his own clothes as she opened the door and called out softly to the hall servant there. Jan stood; Brie came back and hugged him.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Go on,” Brie told him. He went to the rear door that led to his own bedroom but stood there with his hand on the knob. Rhianna opened the door and slipped into the room. She curtsied to Brie.
“You wish help dressing, Hïrzgin?” she said. She noticed Jan at his door; he thought she smiled faintly then in his direction, but she returned her attention quickly to Brie and didn’t look toward him again. “Here, let me get these under-lacings for you . . .”
He opened the door and left the bedroom. He smiled, though he wasn’t certain why.
“Y
OU WISH HELP DRESSING, Hïrzgin?” Rhianna said. Brie saw Rhianna’s gaze slide quickly to Jan, then just as rapidly return. She didn’t look at Jan again, though Brie felt Jan hanging in the room behind her. “Here, let me get these under-lacings for you . . .”
OU WISH HELP DRESSING, Hïrzgin?” Rhianna said. Brie saw Rhianna’s gaze slide quickly to Jan, then just as rapidly return. She didn’t look at Jan again, though Brie felt Jan hanging in the room behind her. “Here, let me get these under-lacings for you . . .”
Brie turned, allowing Rhianna to reach the laces of the back-closed corset. Jan’s attention was somewhere over Brie’s shoulder, but he seemed to shake himself to find Brie’s eyes. He smiled at her, a bit guiltily, Brie thought, then opened the door of the dressing room. He nodded to Brie as Rhianna tugged on the lacings and closed the door behind him. Brie glanced at the mirror on her dresser, watching Rhianna through the silvered surface. She hadn’t looked up to watch Jan leave; that pleased Brie.
Maybe I’m wrong . . .
The girl—no, the young woman—was handsome enough, with strangely muscular arms. Her hair was raven-black and the eyes were such a strange light blue against the hair and olive-complexioned face . . .
Maybe I’m wrong . . .
The girl—no, the young woman—was handsome enough, with strangely muscular arms. Her hair was raven-black and the eyes were such a strange light blue against the hair and olive-complexioned face . . .
Nearly all of Jan’s affairs had been with dark-haired women, Brie realized. She wondered what he was trying to find in them.
Rhianna was perhaps five or six years older than Elissa. No more.
“There,” Rhianna said behind her. Her voice held the slightest of accents, one Brie couldn’t quite place. “Does that feel comfortable, Hïrzgin? I could loosen them a little if they’re too constricting . . .”
“It’s fine,” Brie told her. “Bring me my tashta—there, the one on the bed . . .” She watched Rhianna pick up the tashta, carefully rolling up the hem in her hands. “So Rance has assigned you to our personal staff?”
“Yes, Hïrzgin. I have to admit that I was surprised by that, so soon after being hired, but he said I’d done well in my other duties and there was an unexpected opening.”
“Yes, trust Rance to be ever-vigilant for openings that will benefit the Hïrzg,” she said. “It’s one of his better qualities, I’m sure.”
Rhianna looked puzzled, as if she sensed the subtext but didn’t quite know how to respond to it. She brought the tashta to Brie and placed it over her head as Brie lifted her arms. “Here, let me find the sleeves for you, Hïrzgin. I’ll be careful of your hair . . .” She slid the tashta slowly down, and Brie stood to allow the folds to fall over the rest of her body, Rhianna went to her knees to tie the sash at Brie’s waist. “This is lovely cloth, Hïrzgin. Such a beautiful pattern and color, and it goes so well with your coloring . . .”
“Rhianna,” Brie said, “you don’t need to flatter me.”
Rhianna’s face reddened. Brie saw no guile at all in her, only a genuine embarrassment. ‘Hïrzgin, I didn’t mean . . . I was only saying what I was thinking . . . I’m sorry . . .”
Brie brought a finger to her own lips, smiling gently. “Shh. You needn’t apologize, dear. I would hope . . . Well, I would hope that if we’re to be together often, that we could come to trust each other.”
If anything, Rhianna’s blush deepened at that. She hesitated, seeming to search for a response. “Oh, you
can
trust me, Hïrzgin,” she said.
can
trust me, Hïrzgin,” she said.
“Then,” Brie said, still smiling, “if, say, the Hïrzg were to say something to you that I should know about as his wife, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
The blush darkened even further, which told Brie all she wanted to know.
He’s already approached her . . .
“Why, yes, Hïrzgin,” Rhianna stammered. “I would. Of course.”
He’s already approached her . . .
“Why, yes, Hïrzgin,” Rhianna stammered. “I would. Of course.”
“Good,” Brie told her. She touched the young woman’s cheek.
So smooth, so untouched . . .
but then her fingers found a rippled scar along Rhianna’s jawline.
A knife stroke?
She wondered at that, but she lifted the servant up with her hand. She sat again on the chair before her mirror and opened a jewelry box, lifting out a necklace. “Here,” she said, handing it to Rhianna. “I think this will go well with the tashta. Put it on for me, please . . .”
So smooth, so untouched . . .
but then her fingers found a rippled scar along Rhianna’s jawline.
A knife stroke?
She wondered at that, but she lifted the servant up with her hand. She sat again on the chair before her mirror and opened a jewelry box, lifting out a necklace. “Here,” she said, handing it to Rhianna. “I think this will go well with the tashta. Put it on for me, please . . .”
As the servant put the necklace around her throat and set the clasp, Brie watched her face, and she wondered.
T
HE FIRST TIME THE TEHUANTIN had taken Karnor, the main city of the island Karnmor, they had entered the harbor with their ships hidden in a magical fog. This time there were far more ships in their fleet, and Niente had the nahualli call up a spell-storm as soon as they glimpsed the volcanic cone of the island rising on the horizon. The storm drove just ahead of their vanguard of warships, a blackness of pelting rain and violent lightning that shielded them from being sighted too quickly by the Holdings navy, a storm intended to entice the enemy into anchoring their vessels in the safety of the harbor.
HE FIRST TIME THE TEHUANTIN had taken Karnor, the main city of the island Karnmor, they had entered the harbor with their ships hidden in a magical fog. This time there were far more ships in their fleet, and Niente had the nahualli call up a spell-storm as soon as they glimpsed the volcanic cone of the island rising on the horizon. The storm drove just ahead of their vanguard of warships, a blackness of pelting rain and violent lightning that shielded them from being sighted too quickly by the Holdings navy, a storm intended to entice the enemy into anchoring their vessels in the safety of the harbor.
Which, when the nahualli dispelled the storm, would suddenly no longer be so safe, for a trio of the largest of the Tehuantin warships lurked at the harbor mouth, preventing any of the Holdings ships from escaping to warn the mainland. At the same time, the majority of the fleet broke away and sailed north, then east around the curve of the island, all but one of the ships—the
Yaoyotl
on which Niente and Tecuhtli Citlali sailed—staying well away from the shore.
Yaoyotl
on which Niente and Tecuhtli Citlali sailed—staying well away from the shore.
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