The Myst Reader (75 page)

“I CANNOT SAY THAT I HAVE NOT HALF-EXPECTED
this,” Kahlis was saying, “but I had hoped that you would, perhaps, have seen sense in time.”

“I am sorry that you feel so, Father.”

“Even if it is as you say, Aitrus, have you thought this through properly? Have you thought out the full implications of such a union? She is an outsider. A surface-dweller. And you, Aitrus, are D’ni—a Guild Master and a member of the Council. Such a marriage is unheard of.”

“Maybe so. Yet there is no legal impediment to it.” Aitrus took the letter from his tunic pocket and placed it on the desk before his father. “I asked Master Kedri to look into the matter, and that is his expert opinion.”

Kahlis took the sheet of paper and unfolded it. For a moment he was silent, reading it, then he looked up, his eyes narrowed.

“And the age difference, Aitrus? Have you considered that? Right now you are the elder, but it will not always be so. Your life span is thrice hers. When you are still in your prime she will be an old woman. Have you thought of that?”

“I have,” he answered. “Yet not to have her—to have never had her by my side—that would be death indeed.”

“And what if I said I was against the marriage?”

Aitrus merely stared at him.

Kahlis stood, then came around his desk.

“You will not accept my advice, Aitrus. But I shall give you my blessing. That, I hope, you
will
accept.”

“Gladly!” Aitrus said, then, reaching out, he took his father’s hands in the D’ni way. “You will be proud of her, Father, I promise you!”

AITRUS LINKED BACK INTO THE CAVE ABOVE THE
encampment. Stepping out, he saw that nothing had changed. In the moonlight the camp looked peaceful, the tents to the left, the cabin to the right. Beyond and to the right the waterfall was like a sheet of silver, its constant noise lulling him.

Walking down between the trees he found that he was whistling softly, an old D’ni song his mother had once sung to him. He stopped, his eyes going to the cabin. There she slept. Ti’ana. His love.

“It cannot be wrong,” he said quietly.

Aitrus felt a light touch on his shoulder and started. Turning, he found Anna standing there behind him. She was smiling, as if pleased by her little trick.

“What cannot be wrong?”

He swallowed. Now that the moment had come, he was afraid of it. Yet that fear was natural, it was there to be overcome.

“You and I,” he answered, taking her hands.

Her eyes went down to where their hands met, then looked up to meet his own again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I wish to marry you.”

Her eyes slowly widened. She stared at him silently, as if in wonder.

“Well?” he asked, when the waiting grew too much. “
Will
you marry me, Ti’ana?”

“I will,” she said, her voice so soft, so quiet, that he felt at first he had imagined it.

“You will?”

Anna nodded, the faintest trace of a smile coming to her lips.

“You
will!
” He whooped, then drew her close and, for the first time, embraced her. Her face was suddenly close to his, less than a hand’s width away. The sight of it sobered him.

“I will be a good husband to you, Ti’ana, I promise. But you must promise me something.”

“Promise what?”

“That you will be my partner in all things. My helpmate and companion, by my side always, in whatever I do.”

Slowly the smile returned to her face. Then, leaning toward him, she gently kissed him. “I promise.”

VEOVIS STORMED INTO THE ROOM, SLAMMING
the door behind him. He grabbed an inkwell from the desk beside him and hurled it across the room, shattering it into tiny fragments.

“Never!” he said, glaring across the empty room. “Not while there’s breath left in my body!”

His father, Rakeri, had broken the news to him an hour back. Aitrus was to be betrothed. At first, if anything, he had been indifferent to the news. He had not even heard that Aitrus was seeing anyone. Then, abruptly, he had understood. The girl! The surface-dweller!

Veovis stomped across the room and threw himself down into his chair, gnawing on a thumbnail.

“Never!” he said again, the word hissing from him with a real venom.

His father had explained how the Five had been approached, the documents of precedent laid before them. Again that was Kedri’s fault, the traitor! Aitrus need only go before the full Council now to receive their blessing, and that was a formality.

Or had been, in the past.

Veovis took a long, calming breath, then turned his head, staring at the shattered fragments of glass as if he did not recognize the cause, then shuddered.

Never.

AITRUS STOOD BEFORE THE FIVE, AT THE CENTER
of the great chamber. All were present. Lord R’hira had read out the formal request; now, all that remained was for the Council to ratify the document.

R’hira stared at Aitrus a moment, then looked beyond him, his eyes raking the levels of the chamber.

“All those in favor?”

There was a chorus of “Ayes,” some reluctant, others enthusiastic. For six thousand years the question had been asked and answered thus.

Lord R’hira smiled.

“And those against?” he asked, the question a formality.

“Nay.”

R’hira had already turned the paper facedown. He had been about to congratulate young Aitrus. But the single voice brought him up sharp. He stared at Veovis, where he sat not two spans behind where Aitrus was standing.

“I beg pardon, Guild Master Veovis?”

Veovis stood. “I said ‘Nay.’”

R’hira’s wizened face blinked. All five Lords were leaning forward now, staring at Veovis. This was unheard of.

“Could I possibly have your reasons, Master Veovis?”

Veovis’s face was a mask, expressionless. “I need give no reason. I am simply against.” And he sat, as if that was that.

As indeed it was. The verdict of Council had to be unanimous in this matter. R’hira looked to Aitrus. The young man had his head down, his own expression unreadable; yet there was a tension to his figure that had not been there before.

“Master Aitrus …” he began, embarrassed. “It would seem …”

Aitrus looked up, his pale eyes hard like slate. “I understand, Lord R’hira. The Council has turned down my request.”

R’hira, marking the immense dignity with which Aitrus bore this disappointment, gave a reluctant nod. “So it is.”

“Then I will trouble you no more, my Lords.”

Aitrus bowed to each of the Five in turn, then, turning on his heel, walked from the chamber, his head held high, not even glancing at Veovis as he passed.

“AITRUS! COME NOW, OPEN THE DOOR!”

Tasera stood before the door to her son’s room, her husband just behind her in the shadows of the corridor.

When there was no answer, Tasera turned and looked to her husband. “Why did you not say something in Council, Kahlis?”

“I did,” Kahlis said quietly, “but it made no difference.”

“And is that
it
, then?” she asked, incredulous. “One man says nay and nay it is?”

There was the grating metallic noise of the latch being drawn back, and then the door eased open an inch.

“Forgive me, Mother,” Aitrus said from within the darkness of the room. “I was asleep.”

“I heard what happened in Council,” she said. “We need to discuss what should be done.”

“There’s nothing can be done,” he said. “The Council has given their answer.”

No word, then, of Veovis. No individual blame. As if this were the genuine will of Council.

“Nonsense!” she said, angry now. Pushing past him, she went over to the table and lit the lamp.

Tasera turned, looking at him in the half light. Aitrus’s face seemed gaunt, as if he had been ill, but he was still, beneath it all, the same strong man she had bred.

“I know you, Aitrus. You are a fighter. I also know how much Ti’ana means to you. Now, will you bow before this decision, or will you fight?”

“Fight? How can I fight? And what can I fight with? Can I force Veovis to change his mind? No. Neither he nor the Council would allow it! And as for persuasion …”

“Then beg.”

“Beg?”

“If Ti’ana means that much to you, go to Lord Veovis and beg him to change his mind and grant you what you want. Go down on your knees before him if you must, but do not simply accept this.”

“On my knees?” Aitrus stared at his mother, incredulous.

“Yes,” she said, standing face-to-face with him. “What matters more to you, Aitrus? Your pride or your future happiness?”

“You want me to beg?”

Tasera shook her head. “You said yourself: He will not be forced or persuaded. What other course is open to you?”

“Aitrus is right.”

Both turned. Anna was standing in the doorway.

“Ti’ana, I …” Aitrus began, but she raised a hand to bid him be silent. “I know what happened. Your father just told me.”

“Then you must agree,” Tasera said, appealing to her. “Aitrus must go to Veovis.”

“Maybe,” Anna said, nodding to her. Then she turned slightly, looking to Aitrus lovingly. “You know how proud I would be to be your wife, Aitrus. Prouder than any woman in the whole of D’ni. Yet I would not have you go down on your knees before that man, even if it meant we must spend our lives apart. It would be a violation, and I could not bear it. But there is, perhaps, another way …”

Aitrus raised his eyes and looked at Anna. For a long time he simply studied her, and then he nodded. “So be it, then,” he said, “I will go to him. But I do not hold much hope.”