The Plains of Kallanash (10 page)

“Yes. It will. But Mia…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t press him, will you? Give him time.”

“To get over Tella? Yes, I know.” But she felt her face fall, all the same. She had assumed
– hoped – that once they got back to the Karninghold, she and Jonnor would begin a more normal relationship. But Hurst was right. Jonnor had forced himself to do his duty, but it might be a long time before he wanted anything more. Well, she had waited ten years for this; she could wait a little longer.

It occurred to her then that it would perhaps have been better if it had been Hurst instead of Jonnor. He was such a good friend, he would surely not have minded. But then she reminded herself that he was grieving too, for Tersia, so it would not necessarily have been any easier for him. Although he pretended their relationship meant little to him, they had been a couple for several years, and Tersia had indicated that her two eldest children were Hurst’s. There must have been affection between them.

It saddened her to be the cause of so much trouble to her two husbands. It was not strictly her fault, of course, it was just a quirk in the law that required the lead wife to be fully active, but still, she wished she were beautiful and desirable, like Tella, so that sex with her would not be such a chore.

“Well,” she said, straightening her tunic a little and standing again, “at least I know now how you managed to have sex in the library.” She managed a little smile. “Did you find this place yourself, or did your
… lady friend know of it?”

“Oh, it was her idea. She is an administrator here, she organises all the activities of the quiet, so she lives here year round. Or did. I haven’t seen her for years. She brought me here when I was still with the scholars, and it was quite a regular thing for a while. There are any number of abandoned rooms like this, and quite a few with books still in them. She used to prefer the ones with books, for some reason. Even up on the seventh floor you can find a few books, although…
they are not like these.”

“What do you mean, not like these?”

“Some of them are made differently. They don’t unfold, and they don’t hang on hooks, and they have strange thin covers. The paper is different, too, not crumbling at the edges, like these here. And the letters are smaller, but easier to read, if you know what I mean.”

“Not really.” But it was intriguing all the same. She felt a frisson of excitement; new kinds of books! What delights might be found within them?

But there was no time to search further that day.

“I never asked how your interview went,” Mia said later, as they waited by the library steps for her cart to be summoned. “I’m so sorry, Hurst, I should have asked straight away.” She was cross with herself for allowing her own problems to distract her.

“Oh, it went quite well, on the whole,” he said with an easy shrug. “As well as these things ever go.”

“You’re so relaxed about it! I’m always nervous, but there is nothing to fear, is there? The Voices are there to help us. Did they ask anything awkward?”

“Not really. Just about Tella, the arrangement, that sort of thing. Actually, they talked quite a bit about the blue arrows.”

She felt alarm spearing through her. “You aren’t…?”

“No, no, of course not. They just wanted to explain… well, how it all works. Just in case, you know. To be sure I understand the business. But I have no intention of asking, none at all.”

“I can’t imagine that you would ever want to kill Jonnor. I mean, you have disagreements, sometimes, but…” Still there was that little curl of fear at the thought of it.

“The option is there, that’s all. For both of us, in fact. In case the situation ever becomes… intolerable.”

“Intolerable?”

“That is the word they used. But I don’t see it happening, so don’t worry, Mia. Look, here’s your transport now.”

And he handed her in, all smiles, and she thought how different he looked then, his face lit up and those little crinkles around his eyes, not at all like his usual dark expression. He was not a handsome man, not like Jonnor, but he had a certain charm. Although he was ruthless, too, she knew, and she was not reassured. On the ride home, she wondered just what a man like Hurst would regard as intolerable.

For two full days Hurst churned with anger, glowering at the world and abrupt even with his Companions. He stomped around the training grounds, but he couldn’t settle to any serious work. All his energy was directed elsewhere. Only in the evenings at the pavilion was he mellower, for Mia had the power to soften even his current bad temper. Her interview had gone well, she told him, and she was glad she had talked to him at the library. She’d felt much more settled after that and able to face the globe with total ease.

But that did nothing to abate his anger with Jonnor. The morning Jonnor was due to arrive at the Arrakas men’s house, Gantor, Trimon and Walst were preparing to go to the training grounds, but Hurst hung back, determined to have it out with him.

“You coming?” Walst said with a frown, gathering up clothes to change into later.

“No, I think I’ll wait for Jonnor.”

The three men exchanged glances.

“No,” said Gantor, tossing down his half-filled bag and folding his arms.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. You’re not going to wait for Jonnor.”

Hurst raised his eyebrows. “Really? Who says so?”

“All of us say so. The mood you’re in, you’ll lose your temper and that will only end badly. For everybody. So no. Get your things, and hurl all that pent-up aggression at a training opponent. Knock me to the Ninth Vortex and back, if you like, or take on Walst if you want more of a challenge. Whatever makes you feel better. But you’re not staying here, even if we have to beat you senseless first and carry you.”

So he went, and he had to admit there was some small satisfaction in a good hard fight. First he mashed Gantor into a quivering heap, and then he turned his attention to Walst, who was more his weight. The two went after each other with such sustained ferocity and for so long that the whole training session gradually ground to a halt around them as one pair after another stopped their own fight to watch, awed. It was a strange thing, but his leg never bothered him while he was fighting, although he knew it would be agony later.

In the bathing pool afterwards, battered, his skin raw with bruises, and barely able to move, Hurst couldn’t help laughing.

“What the fuck’s so funny?” Walst grimaced, stretching his sword-arm gingerly.

“Gantor was right. I do feel better.”

“Not sure Gantor does. Or me, come to that.” With a wry shake of the head, Walst laughed too.

~~~

By the time they got back to the Arrakas men’s house, Hurst was too tired to do more than sleep through the afternoon stillness, and then there was the tedium of communion to get through. There was a purpose he could understand to a family communion, for it served to bring them all together
– husbands and wives, Companions and children. But a house communion, with distant relatives he barely knew, that was a different matter.

They met in the temple, a round building connected to both the men’s house and the women’s. There was an hour allowed after the stillness for the various Arrakas members to gather in an ante-room, an opportunity for gossip which was of little int
erest to Hurst until his father and all his uncles and brothers had arrived from their various Karnings.

They filed through into the communion room, much larger than its equivalent at a Karninghold, which was fitted out with tiers of semi-circular marble benches around the central fire. The women sat on one side, the men on the other, each with a small cushion to protect their rears from the cold, while Slaves burned incense and chanted. Hurst made the required responses, and tried not to wriggle too much as his abused leg complained at the inactivity. Jonnor was there, of course, but no more than a face in the crowd, and Hurst had no opportunity even for a preliminary glower.

After that, a walk to the family pavilion, and another hour of wretched inactivity with incense and chanting and then at last, blessed release, when the Slaves would depart and leave the family to their meat and the pleasure of a shared evening.

Tonight was the first time they would all be together again, and although the morning’s activity had burned off the worst of Hurst’s anger against Jonnor, he was still not at all settled in his mind. But as soon as he entered the pavilion ante-room and saw Mia and Jonnor standing together, all his antipathy drained away in an instant. For she was smiling up at Jonnor, her face aglow, one dainty hand resting on his shoulder as if she were just about to reach up and kiss him. For his part, Jonnor at least looked less sulky than usual and was listening attentively to her. How could Hurst sustain his anger when she was so obviously happy?

There was food and drink laid out on a side table, so he fortified himself with a glass of wine, then went across to the two of them. Even so, he couldn’t quite manage a greeting, so he just nodded at Jonnor and tried to smile. He wasn’t sure it came out quite right, but Jonnor seemed not to notice.

“Ah, Hurst, there you are! Mia was just telling me that your interview went well. I’m glad of it.”

It was rather gratifying that they were talking about him, and Jonnor seemed… self-conscious, somehow. His urbane manner was rather forced, Hurst thought, or was that just his imagination?

“Yes, it was fine,” he said, and then stopped, unsure what else he could say. He could hardly talk about the blue arrows, and mentioning Tella would be tactless. And the subject most on his mind, Jonnor’s treatment of Mia, was certainly out of bounds.

Fortunately, Mia stepped in to talk about some trivial detail that had happened in Morsha’s interview, and the moment passed. He wondered how long it would last, this phase when they were tiptoeing round one subject or another, not quite sure what could safely be mentioned and what must be left unsaid. Eventually they would have to discuss these things, he supposed, but not yet, not here, not with Slaves walking about the room. It was odd how he distrusted them, these followers of the Nine, but he did. He always felt as if they were pretending, somehow.

~~~

Once all of Hurst’s brothers and cousins arrived, life got busier. Mornings were taken up with training, and although he was not entered in any tournaments himself, he was coaching Jonnor, several younger brothers and a cousin. The stillness and the gathering after it passed in cosy conversations with one or other of his kin, comparing skirmish results or discussing battle strategy with those lucky enough to be out at the border. And then there were the evenings, when sometimes he had the pleasure of a game of crowns with Mia, and sometimes he had to put up with Gantor beating him instead. Once a week, he skipped training to visit the library with Mia, leisurely mornings supposedly choosing books but secretly admiring her smooth skin and gentle brown eyes.

Hurst suspected that Jonnor was avoiding him, although he was pleasant enough when they were thrown together. On the training grounds he listened to Hurst’s advice and practised assiduously. Jonnor always seemed more settled at the Ring, less moody.
He was attentive towards Mia too. After his interview, Hurst thought he detected a more serious note to his conversation, less flippant, and after a couple of weeks Jonnor drew Hurst aside one evening.

“I… I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice low. “Privately.”

“Of course,” Hurst said. “Come to my room. Trimon and Walst train every morning, and I can get rid of Gantor…”

“No, my room is better. My three all train, so no need to trouble Gantor. Tomorrow? Two hours before noon?”

When he arrived the next day, Jonnor was pacing the room, but he waved Hurst to the only chair and continued striding about restlessly. The room was so small that only a few paces brought him to the wall, where he turned and began pacing in the opposite direction.

Hurst said nothing, watching him with something close to envy. He had long since stopped thinking overmuch about his looks or his limp. He could do nothing about either of them, after all. But looking at Jonnor’s perfect form
– the lithe and toned body, the beautiful face with its cloud of curls – he envied him that. It brought him Mia’s unquestioning adoration, and he couldn’t help his twist of jealousy. He was only human.

At length, Jonnor turned to face him, and leaned against a dresser.

“I thought we ought to talk,” he said sombrely, no trace of his usual lightness. “There should be no secrets between us, brother.”

“I agree,” Hurst said, making no comment on the sudden transition to correct form. They had been brothers officially since their marriage, but Jonnor had never bothered to address him properly before.

“Mia…” Jonnor stopped, embarrassment written on his face. Or was it shame? Hurst again said nothing. “I did what had to be done,” Jonnor blurted, “but it wasn’t… it didn’t go off as I’d hoped. It was… difficult.”

“Don’t you find her desirable?” Hurst asked, trying very hard to keep his voice level.

Jonnor looked sideways at him under his lashes. Such long lashes he had. “Well, actually… no, not really. Nothing against her, you understand, it’s just the way she is, but… so skinny, and… and… The trouble is, she’s nothing like Tella.”

“True.” Hurst could feel his temper rising, and had to breathe deeply to stay calm.

“Tella was so… so…”

“Voluptuous?” Hurst hazarded, beginning to see the problem.

“Yes, that, but also… You see, the trouble was, really, Mia just… well, she just stood there. I mean, it was bad enough when she was wearing the nightgown, and it just hung off her, nothing at all there to fill it, but then when she took it off… she just stood there. That’s so… off-putting. It was lucky I’d looked at your books, because otherwise…” He shrugged, hands spread.

“Gods, Jonnor,” Hurst hissed, “What did you expect her to do? Dance for you? Seduce you? She was an innocent, by the Gods!”

Jonnor’s eyes widened. “There’s no need to take that tone. Look, I’m trying to explain here, I’m being
honest
with you, don’t get all huffy about it.”

“That’s all well and good, but
really…”
He took a deep breath. “No, sorry, sorry. I’m listening.”

Jonnor hurled himself down on one of the beds, which creaked a little. His face was clouded, but he made the effort to master himself, and after a moment he turned to Hurst again.

“I just found it difficult, all right? It wasn’t what I expected.” The echo of Mia’s own words took Hurst’s breath away, but Jonnor rattled on. “I thought… I mean I assumed she would be like Tella. That she would
behave
like Tella. That she would… you know…”

“Ah.” And Hurst did know, all of a sudden. Tella had had a certain reputation, before she married. In fact, she had probably been all the way through the stables and back, as the saying was. He could imagine it, Jonnor the young innocent and Tella the experienced lover
; naturally she had made all the moves. And Jonnor had expected Mia, poor Mia, to do the same. “But you’ve been married for ten years, you must have picked up a few ideas, surely?”

Jonnor flushed. “I… not exactly. It’s not as simple as that.” He twisted his hands, one over the other.

Hurst took a deep breath. He uncurled his balled fists and rested them on his knees. Getting angry wouldn’t help, he had to be calm, for Mia’s sake. “Well, what’s happened has happened, so let’s not agonise over it. We need to look at the future, that’s the important thing, wouldn’t you say? The question is, what to do about Mia? Have you any thoughts?”

Jonnor stood up and began pacing again. Once or twice he seemed about to speak, but nothing came of it.

“Let’s look at the options.” Hurst could hear the tension in his own voice, could feel himself shaking. He could hardly believe he was sitting here talking when all he wanted to do was mash Jonnor’s handsome face to pulp. He took another calming breath. “You’ve done what is legally necessary, so now it’s up to you… or the three of us, I suppose. You could just… not bother any more. That’s one possibility. Although the Voices would start asking awkward questions if there’s no child. Or you and Mia could reach an understanding, you could learn the moves together, if you want to. Or I could take over.”

He spoke the last hesitantly, fearing an outburst, but to his surprise Jonnor sat down and looked eagerly at him.

“You’ve had a lot of experience, haven’t you? With women, I mean? And they were not all like Tella, were they? Not all…
passionate
, like she was…”

“I suppose…”

“So maybe you could – you know – teach her?”

“Teach her?”

“Yes. Teach Mia, show her how to do things.”

For a moment Hurst boiled with rage. Show her how to do things? Turn her into some kind of lecherous whore? She deserved better than that! But then a sudden burst of joy.

“You mean… you want me to sleep with her?”

“Yes! Yes, show her the way to… you know, please me.”

He could share her! Now that was a different matter, he could cope with that. Teach her a few tricks to keep Jonnor happy, while having his own time with her. That would be something! After all these years, he could have her in his arms at last. Yes, he could do that.

“I could.” He tried not to let his happiness show. “If she wanted that, of course.”