Firewalk (29 page)

“Children, this is High Lady Kayli, High Lord Randon’s wife,” Ynea said, beckoning them forward. “Come and greet her; by marriage she is your aunt.”

Silently they came forward, the boys bowing soberly, little Erisa trying awkwardly to curtsy. None of them said a word.

Kayli hesitated; she’d had no experience with young children, but these stiff, silent children almost broke her heart. She dropped to her knees on the floor and smiled, extending her arms.

“I am so pleased to meet my nephews and my niece,” she said warmly. “In Bregond children embrace their kinfolk. Or are Agrondish children afraid of their aunts, when they are so fearsome as I?”

The children exchanged dubious glances, and finally it was little Erisa who toddled forward and slipped her fat little arms around Kayli’s neck. The boys hesitantly followed their sister’s example, and Kayli felt a pang when they gave Ynea an equally perfunctory embrace and left as silently as they had come.

Ynea sighed when the children had gone, and Kayli was alarmed to see how much of the animation had drained from the young woman’s face. Her eyes had sunk far back in her head, surrounded by dark rings of exhaustion, and Kayli thought Ynea was clinging to consciousness by will alone.

“I’ve had so little part in their lives,” Ynea murmured, as if to herself. “I couldn’t even nurse them. Terralt chose the governesses and tutors who raised them. I feel I’ve done them a terrible wrong, but perhaps it’s for the best. Perhaps when I’m gone they won’t feel much loss.”

“Ynea—” Kayli began, fear stabbing at her heart.

Ynea raised one hand.

“Please,” she said gently. “I’m no fool. Stevann smiles and makes fine-fine noises when he examines me, but I can see the truth in his eyes. Your maid Endra is more honest, thank the Bright Ones. I’m tired of kindly meant lies. And I’ve felt the presence of death growing within me as surely as I’ve felt my child grow there. I pray to the Bright Ones I’ll live to see the face of my last child, but I don’t hope for more than that.”

“Oh, Ynea,” Kayli said, dread settling like shadows around the room. Ynea had said in plain words what Kayli had not let herself acknowledge. “You must not believe—”

Ynea held up a hand again, gazing into Kayli’s eyes.

“No,” she said quietly. “I want our friendship a true one, with no lies spoken between us even to give comfort. That’s the second greatest kindness you can do me. But I have one other boon to ask of you.”

There were many things Kayli wanted to say, but when she met Ynea’s eyes, she simply clasped her cold, bony hand instead.

“Ask me what you will,” she said. “If it is within my power, I promise you it shall be done.”

“My children.” Ynea glanced with that same resigned longing at the door where they had come and gone so quietly. “Please, watch over them. See that they have love and a chance to be happy. My spirit can find peace if I know that you and Randon will see that they’re well cared for.”

“Ynea, I will do what I can,” Kayli said awkwardly. “But Terralt is their father, and he is not receptive to my advice.”

Ynea chuckled weakly.

“He has never borne alone the responsibility for four children,” she said. “I’ve left a letter for him containing my wishes, and I know he’ll be grateful for your assistance and advice. He has great respect for you, however little he shows it.” Her eyes bored into Kayli’s. “Promise me.”

“I cannot speak for Randon, but for myself, I promise,” Kayli said, her heart sinking. Yes, she could see death in those large, dark eyes, feel it in the faint pulse of the blood in Ynea’s cold hand. It was as if the child had sucked all the life out of her, leaving her with nothing.

“Thank you for that. As for Randon, I have no concern.” Ynea sighed and closed her eyes; in only a moment, her slow, deep breathing told Kayli she was asleep.

Kayli tiptoed from the room as silently as she could, leaving the door ajar rather than waking Ynea with the squeal of the hinges. When she returned to her room, the fire was lit, and now she was glad of the solitude. There would be little sleep for her tonight, but she was glad to be alone with her thoughts.

For in the end, everyone was alone.

Even on their wedding night.

Chapter Eleven

Kayli slid the last bead over the end of her braid and pinned it almost defiantly. She had looked over her gowns that morning and chosen the one which most differed from Agrondish styles, giving orders to the seamstresses to prepare, with the aid of her maids, garments according to her specifications. Meanwhile, Kayli had debated with herself how to wear her hair. She was entitled to the elaborate knots and coils of a married noblewoman, but such a style required the services of her maids and long preparation, and her temple upbringing cringed from such vanity. So in the end she had kept the thirty-nine braids, as was her right, but worn them in the simple style of an Initiate, with a small coil at the back of her head, but the beaded ends hanging down her back. She wore her
thari
openly at her hip, but laid aside her jewelry (with the exception, of course, of her temple ring), and she had pushed the perfumes and powders to the back of her dressing table. She would not require them any longer.

When she finished, Kayli gazed at herself soberly in the mirror. No Initiate would wear such a gown, but it could not be helped; she could scarcely appear in audience in a temple robe. But that was as far as she was willing to compromise. Her boots clicked confidently on the stairs as she strode down to the main hall, and the beads on her braids clacked at her back, as if in answer. As she stepped into the main hall, Kayli thought,
Today I would almost dare the fire again.

If Kayli had anticipated a grand entrance, she was disappointed; the hall was still completely empty. She sighed. Of course, when there were no guards at the door, she should have known that the others were still at breakfast and, judging from the fact that the outer doors were still closed, would be for some time.

Kayli’s stomach rumbled at the thought of breakfast, but although she did wish to confront Randon this morning, she did not want it to be in the dining hall while the others were still chatting over their breakfast. She slipped quietly around to the kitchen instead, horrifying the kitchen staff with her sudden appearance. She fought down laughter as everyone scuttled around clearing a place for her to sit, and she scandalized the servants by requesting plain bread and cheese to break her fast. Little did the wide-eyed scullery maids know that Kayli had chopped carrots and scrubbed the hearth in the Order’s kitchens. Little, too, did they know that crusty toasted bread with melted cheese and a foamy cold mug of cider were more to her liking than the rich cream pastries and almond milk pudding sent to the lord’s table.

After Kayli had eaten her fill, however, she excused herself and made her way back toward the main hall. On her way, she glanced out one of the front windows, then stopped and looked out again. There was a long line of peasants and nobles at the door awaiting audience, but what had drawn her attention was a large caravan of wagons that was departing through the main gate of the courtyard. Surely that must be the caravan returning to Bregond—yes, there was Brother Santee in one of the wagons—but what amazed Kayli was the size of the guard contingent accompanying it. Surely there could not be less than a hundred guardsmen falling in behind the wagons, and she could see more outside the courtyard wall waiting to join the procession. Was the danger of a Sarkondish raid so great that Randon thought it necessary to send a small army to guard the caravan?

The guards had assumed their posts flanking the door to the main hall, their expressions carefully impassive as they stood by to let Kayli enter. Thankfully Randon was there, just settling himself in his seat, and just as thankfully Terralt was
not
there. Randon was engrossed in a scroll on the table before him and did not notice Kayli until she was halfway across the room, but when he saw her, the surprise and relief in his eyes sent an answering wave of relief through her. He
did
want her, then, at his side.

As Kayli slid into her own seat, Randon reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I’m glad you came,” he murmured. “I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“My place is here,” Kayli said simply, squeezing his fingers in return. “I saw Brother Santee’s caravan leaving. Is there some trouble, that you send so many troops?”

Randon shook his head.

“No; actually it was Terralt’s idea, and a good one. I’m setting up a garrison at the border. Most of the troops will go on to see the caravan home safely, and I’m inviting your father to send troops of his own to help me secure the border. It’s time to yank the reins on these raiders once and for all, and between the two countries, I believe we can do it, now that neither side is going to shoot at the other’s troops the moment we see them.”

Kayli sat back, pleased at Randon’s words, although she would have preferred that the idea came from another source than Terralt. What game was the lord playing? He had no desire for peace with Bregond; what did it profit him and his cause if the border was secured to enable travel and trade between the two countries? But she could not say this to Randon now, not after yesterday’s argument.

Kayli was surprised at the huge number of peasants who suddenly had grievances to bring before the High Lord and High Lady that day; by dinnertime, however, the manner of the petitioners and the surprisingly simple nature of the conflicts brought before them made Kayli realize that curiosity more than conflict had brought most of the petitioners.

When Randon motioned to the guards to close the door so he and Kayli could snatch a little dinner, he grinned at her and said, ”Do you know, I think most of them just wanted a look at you, now that we’re formally confirmed and all the rumors have had time to make their way around the city.”

Kayli grimaced.

“Then the reputation of the Bregondish people has been much diminished since I came.”

“I’d be inclined to think the contrary.” Randon waved to the servants to bring in the trays laden with his and Kayli’s dinner. “Have you noticed that now the folk speak to both of us instead of trying to ignore you? And I don’t think you’ve received a single sour scowl all morning.”

“You forget the farmer whose bull strayed and mounted all the heifers in his neighbor’s field,” Kayli reminded him. “He gave me a scowl fit to wither all the grass on the plains.”

“Well, he was furious that you didn’t award him so much as one of the calves,” Randon said, chuckling. “Doubtless he’ll call it outlandish Bregondish justice. Never mind that I’d have made the same decision if you hadn’t said it first.”

Kayli smiled, but she could not bring herself to care too much about straying cattle. It was hard to sit beside Randon all morning with matters so unsettled between them. And there was still Terralt. How was she ever to deal with the man now?

“I had an idea, if you’re up for it,” Randon said to her. “I’ve heard nothing from Master Dyer Lidian or any of the others since you were poisoned. I think they’re waiting, too, to see what I—what we’ll do. But almost every one of them invited us to visit the guilds; I think this is a good time to accept those offers. Their manner with us—with you, especially—might tell us a great deal.”        

Kayli glanced at Randon, troubled by the anxiety in his eyes. The guildmasters were his friends and staunchest supporters. How it must have galled him all this time, wondering which of them might have tried to assassinate his bride at his very table. And how he must hate this new game even as he contemplated playing it.

“Do you know,” she said slowly, “perhaps it was not one of them. Others might have had access to our food, and many of the guildmasters and guildmistresses brought their servants, who could have been suborned by another. I wonder if your friends are not all innocent after all.”

Randon raised his eyebrows, a cautious hope in his eyes.

“Why do you say that?”

“If I had been one of them, and guilty of such a crime,” Kayli said after a moment’s thought, “I would make an effort to make myself appear innocent—implicate a business rival, hint that one of the others at the table might have a motive or access to poisons. Perhaps I would even volunteer to be questioned under truth spell, knowing that once I, your friend, had made such an offer, you could not in good conscience accept. But none of them have made such protestations. I think it likely that they are merely waiting, as you said, to see whether you will trust them or not. So your idea, to show such trust by visiting them, is a good one.”

Randon smiled with relief.

“All right, then,” he said. “I’ll send a messenger immediately. Which one first, do you think?”

“Master Dyer Lidian,” Kayli told him. “He is your closest friend in the guilds, is he not?”

“How did you—” Randon stopped, then grinned ruefully. “I forget how you can almost pick the thoughts out of a man’s head. You’ll have to teach me the trick of that sometime. Lidian it is, then.”

The afternoon’s audiences were not much different from those in the morning, and when the guards closed the doors again at sunset, Kayli thought privately that she had likely seen every citizen of Tarkesh this day.

When they rose from their seats, Randon laid his hand on her arm.

“Endra said you needed time alone,” he said. “I can’t say it surprised me. But would you have supper with me?”

Kayli wanted to decline, wanting nothing more than quiet and sleep, but after all, sooner or later she must talk with Randon, and likely there would be no rest for her until there was peace between them.

But was this the way to gain that peace?

“I will sup with you tonight and every night you wish,” she said slowly. “And contrary to Endra’s advice, I do not wish to be alone. But the matters on which we disagree will not be mended by words, at least not truthful words. So I would ask that until such a time as one or the other of us should change our feelings about the matter, we belabor it no further.”