Firewalk (8 page)

“My lady,” Terralt said, bowing and taking Kayli’s hand. “Such beauty dazzles me.” He turned to the pregnant woman, pulling Kayli with him. “I make known to you my wife, Ynea.”

Kayli’s cheeks flamed with humiliation, but to pull her hand from Terralt’s now would appear as if she had cause to feel guilty, so she simply turned to Ynea and extended her free hand.

“Lady Ynea,” she said, giving the deep bow of respect she had not accorded Terralt. “I am honored to meet you.”

“I—the honor is mine, Lady Kayli,” Ynea said, stammering a little as if surprised. Despite the thinness and pallor that spoke of ill health, the lady was astonishingly beautiful, with large dark eyes and the delicate, fine bones that made Kayli feel gangling and coarse-featured.

Randon took Kayli’s hand from Terralt, to Kayli’s relief. “Lady Ynea is of a scholarly nature, like yourself,” Randon said. “The two of you might have much to discuss.”

“Yes, I—” Ynea glanced at Terralt, flushed, and lowered her eyes. “I’d welcome the companionship.”

Terralt turned away from his wife, as if dismissing her, took Kayli’s arm again, and turned her bodily toward the robed man near Brother Santee.

“This is Stevann, our healer,” Terralt said. “He’s been tending your priest—and you, of course, while you were ill.”

This time Kayli did pull her arm from Terralt’s, occasioning a grin from the lord. Kayli ignored it and bowed to the healer.

“I am honored to meet you, Br—Lord Stevann,” Kayli said. “I thank you for your care.”

“You’re most welcome, lady,” Stevann said, his smile lighting pleasant light brown eyes. “But I’m afraid I’m entitled to neither your bow nor the title ‘lord.’ I’m of frightfully common birth.”

For a moment Kayli was silent with confusion. She’d addressed Stevann as “lord” only because she knew that outside Bregond, mages were not trained in holy orders. But surely the mere achievement of sufficient magical skill to serve a High Lord demanded respect even in Agrond. High Priestess Brisi herself had been the daughter of simple herdsfolk.

“Forgive me,” Kayli said at last. “In Bregond we honor mages regardless of their birth.” She bowed again, this time the half bow of an equal. “May I then address you as Brother Stevann, as I would a Bregondish mage who has left his temple?”

Stevann smiled again.

“I’d find it flattering,” he said. “Thank you, lady. Are you well today?”

“Quite,” Kayli said quickly. “But Brother Santee, how does he fare?”

“He took an arrow in his back,” Stevann said, shaking his head. “He should be resting, but he said he’d sooner die than see this wedding performed improperly. Lords, lady, I’d thank you to hasten the ritual so he can go back to his room.”

“Of course,” Randon said quickly. “If Calder’s ready.”

The strange priest looked up from a scroll he was reading and grimaced. “I think so, my lord,” he said. “I’ve studied the ceremony as best I could. Please forgive me, Lady Kayli, if Brother Santee must prompt me. If you’ll come to the hearth?”

Kayli followed Randon to the hearth, surprised that he did not present her to his advisers at the table. They watched her, she thought, rather dubiously; had Terralt, or her own actions, turned them against her? But there was no time to fret now.

Guards lifted Brother Santee’s litter and carried it forward so that the priest was beside and slightly behind Kayli. Of course; he must take Brisi’s place and give the temple’s permission for her to wed.

Lord Calder performed the Agrondish ceremony first; to Kayli’s surprise, he spoke not in Agrondish, but some other language of which she understood not a single word. There was a long listing of titles and lands, she guessed that much, but she could only repeat what the priest bade her say, disturbed by the idea that she did not even know what vows she made. But she couldn’t refuse, so did the meaning of the vows truly matter?

Kayli was surprised to feel Randon’s hand trembling in hers; glancing sideways, she saw that his lips were white and tight.

Why, Endra was right,
Kayli thought suddenly.
He is as frightened as I.
She wanted to squeeze his hand reassuringly, but did not; if he shared Terralt’s pride, her acknowledgment of his fear might humiliate him.

The Agrondish ceremony, unlike the Bregondish one, involved an exchange of tokens; after their vows, Randon slipped a bracelet of gold and silver twined together over her wrist and handed her another thicker bracelet, which she then slid over his hand. Likely the twined silver and gold symbolized the joining of man and woman. Was she silver or gold?

At last the long, strange ceremony was over, and Lord Calder closed his heavy book and took out the scroll which seemed to contain the Bregondish ritual.

“This business of the knife—” Lord Calder said hesitantly. “Lady Kayli, you have it?”

Kayli drew her
thari
in its sheath through the slit in her skirt and handed it to the priest, hilt first

“The blade has been cleaned and consecrated by fire,” she said, “and blessed by the High Priestess of the Order of Inner Flame. As Randon has no
thari,
mine alone will suffice.”

“Very well,” Lord Calder said. “Then I’ll begin.”

Kayli gently pulled at Randon’s hand.

“You must face me, not the priest,” she told him. “We speak our vows to each other.”

“I hope I remember what to say,” Randon murmured. “Terralt read the words to me at least a dozen times, but—well, I’ll do my best.”

Kayli had seen many weddings in her years at the temple, as a temple wedding was thought to bring good fortune. The familiar phrases were comforting, although Kayli thought privately that Brother Santee’s knowledge of Agrondish was somewhat lacking when he had translated the ceremony for Lord Calder.

At last, Lord Calder said, “By the authority left by High Lord Terendal, I give you, Randon, to Kayli as High Lord to High Lady, as husband to wife, as lover to lover, as man to woman, to be joined before Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire and before the witnesses gathered here. Is such a joining your intention?”

Randon met Kayli’s eyes squarely.

“It is my will and the desire of my heart.”

Brother Santee spoke weakly from his litter.

“On behalf of High Priestess Brisi of the Temple of Inner Flame, I give Kayli, Dedicate of the Order, permission to wed.”

“By the authority of your Order,” Lord Calder said, “I give you, Kayli, to Randon as High Lady to High Lord, as wife to husband, as lover to lover, as woman to man, to be joined before Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire and before the witnesses gathered here. Is such a joining your intention?”

Kayli took a deep breath.

“It is my will and the desire of my heart,” she said.
Not for love, but for my country, my people, it is my will.

“Then I bind you by blood and blade.” Lord Calder drew the
thari
from its sheath and handed it to Kayli.

Kayli held up her left hand and placed the sharp edge of the
thari
against her palm.

“By my vows and by my blade, I am of one blood with you,” she said. “With this vow you are my family, my home, my lands, my country, my temple.” She thought of Kairi and her voice shook slightly. She pulled the blade downward, making a shallow cut in her palm so that the blood welled forth.

Randon bit his lip and took the
thari,
holding it against his palm as Kayli had done.

“By my vows and by my blade, I am of one blood with you,” he said, his voice stumbling a little. “With this vow you are my family, my home, my lands, and my country.” He did not say “my temple,” of course, as he had no Order. He cut into his palm, and Kayli winced as she saw how deeply he’d cut.

Kayli placed her cut hand palm to palm with Randon’s; Lord Calder tied a cord around their joined hands.

“Before Earth, Wind, Water, and Flame, and before the witnesses gathered here, I say that Kayli and Randon have joined as one in blood,” he said. “With the blade on which their blood joins, I sever all other ties that bind them, leaving only the bond of their blood and their vows.” He cut the cord binding their hands together. “Kayli and Randon, as High Lord to High Lady, as husband to wife, as lover to lover, as man to woman, now and for all time you are one.”

Lord Calder paused.

“What do I do now?” he asked hesitantly.

Kayli exhaled slowly.
Done. There is no turning back.

“Now we let Brother Stevann bind Randon’s hand before he bleeds to death,” she said quietly. “I am sorry, my lord, that I failed to warn you of the sharpness of my
thari.”
She took her kerchief from her pocket and wiped her own hand, then Randon’s; by custom they would keep the kerchief, stained with their mingled blood, as long as both lived. She used the same kerchief to wipe clean her
thari
before she sheathed it.

“It’s all right,” Randon said stoutly as Stevann bandaged his hand. “I’ll survive.” He turned to Kayli.

“It’s our tradition to celebrate with a wedding feast,” he said. “Are you permitted to eat now?”

Kayli flushed; how could she explain the details of Awakening before strangers—and especially before Terralt?

“With respect, lord, our custom is to have the feast three days later.” Endra’s voice startled Kayli; she’d never noticed when the midwife had joined them. Nonetheless, she was grateful for Endra’s timely interruption, although the midwife was unabashedly lying; there was no such custom in Bregond.

“It’s tradition to let the new marrieds have three days alone to—to become accustomed to each other’s society,” Endra continued blithely, giving Kayli a sidewise glance. “It’s meant for matches like this where husband and wife have had no chance to know each other before the wedding.”

“A sensible custom,” Randon agreed, although from the way his eyes twinkled, Kayli wondered if he’d guessed Endra’s ruse. “I’ll honor it gladly; for three days we’re not to be disturbed. Nevertheless, there’s one local custom I’ll not forgo.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Kayli time to signal her displeasure if she chose, and pressed his lips softly to hers.

His kiss was gentle, almost chaste, but Kayli was acutely embarrassed to be kissed in the sight of all these others, and she was hard put to keep from pulling away. When Randon straightened again, Kayli forced a small smile, fancying that she saw disappointment in his eyes. Perhaps Agrondish women gave no thought to venting their passions in public.

“My turn now,” Terralt said, but before Kayli could even draw back, Randon raised a hand, halting him.

“Not every country lets other men kiss the bride,” Randon said firmly. “A little respect for the lady, please.”

“Yes, I’ll take Lady Kayli upstairs now,” Endra agreed.

“That’s a good idea.” Randon relinquished Kayli’s hand as if reluctantly. “There are a few documents I must sign. I’ll be up shortly.”

Kayli was utterly grateful to escape; between her fast, her illness, and the tension of her wedding, her head was spinning. Endra took her arm as the midwife led her back up the stairs, this time to another set of rooms. Despite her unsettled state, Kayli was impressed by Randon’s chambers; besides the bedroom, he had a dressing room, a sitting room, and a small room in which he had placed his weapons and armor. Only the sitting-room door opened to the corridor, so the bedroom was quiet and private. A balcony on the south wall looked out over the huge city of Tarkesh. Beyond the wall of Tarkesh, Kayli could see the lush green fields for which Agrond was famous.

A small fire had been laid in the bedroom fireplace, more for light than to warm the room. Randon’s bed was wide and thick, the covers turned down invitingly, and Kayli wondered how many women he had brought there.

“The girls were quick,” Endra said approvingly. “They’ve put all your things away. Come, lady, here’s a robe; let’s get you out of that gown before your husband comes back and makes a botch of doing it himself.”

Kayli had to chuckle at that, but in truth she’d have liked to keep the armor of her gown a little longer. Nevertheless she let Endra help her out of it and put it away, then unpin and brush her hair.

“I’ll be going now,” Endra said at last. “Unless you’d like a last cup of tea or broth?”

“Oh, Endra, no, my stomach is sloshing already,” Kayli said wryly. “Any more liquid and I will surely be sick.”

“All right, then.” Endra smoothed a rough hand down Kayli’s hair and smiled encouragingly. “I wish you a joyous Awakening, lady.”

“Thank you.” Kayli tried to regain her lost calm as Endra left, but her heart was pounding—and why not? Here she was alone in the bedroom of a man she’d barely met. Kayli rose from her seat and paced restlessly. At last she pulled some of the furs strewn over the floor to the hearth and sat down, comforted by the familiar heat and light of the flames in the fireplace.

She held her hands as close to the dancing flames as she could stand, but try as she might, she could not muster the concentration to thrust her hand into the fire or touch the burning logs. Ah, but when she was Awakened, all the powers of the Flame would be hers. She’d be able to summon fire, to control it, to—

When
she was Awakened? Kayli shuddered. There was no certainty that she would, in fact, come to the fullness of her power at all. The fasting and the potions should have cleansed her body of the last effects of the morning tea she’d drunk ever since she’d entered the Order, the tea which kept her sexual and magical energies safely subdued, but Kayli felt no desire for the coupling to come, only anxiety.

So much rested on a man she had only just met, of whom she knew so little. At the Order there would have been no doubt; any priest she chose would have been trained and practiced in Awakening Dedicates. And even if Kayli was not Awakened the first time, she could try again.

But now Kayli had to trust her Awakening to a stranger who had no notion of the significance of their coupling, only of the importance of getting his new wife with child. And if he failed to Awaken her, would she ever be able to try again?

Kayli heard a muffled knock at the hall door—muffled because the chamber door was still closed. Kayli opened the chamber door a small crack and peered out; it wouldn’t do for someone to come in and see her in her robe.