The Plains of Kallanash (7 page)

“And then there were Tella’s Companions,” Jonnor went on.

“Oh but
– it’s part of their job, isn’t it?”

“Even Tersia? Oh. I never thought of that. But the thing is, Hurst
…” He gulped down his wine, and refilled his glass again. “The thing is… I’ve never had much luck with women. Not even a bit of fumbling in the stables, and everyone manages that, don’t they? So Tella… well, Tella was…” He broke off, red faced with embarrassment.

“Your first?” Hurst prompted.

He nodded, staring down into his wine. “And actually, I liked the whole arrangement… you know, having exclusive access. She was there whenever I wanted her,
mine
, no dancing around, no wondering…. And with Mia… I think the same thing would work best, don’t you? Not sharing. It’s… less confusing. And if you’re happy with that too…”

Hurst’s stomach lurched. Happy with it? Could he ever be happy with Jonnor in Mia’s bed? Yes, he told himself firmly, if that made her happy, then yes. So he tried to keep his tone even. “Whatever pleases Mia, and if it works better for you too, brother... But it must be soon.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But…”

“But?”

“It’s so difficult… being in Tella’s room, in her very bed.” He heaved a sigh.

“Then go somewhere else,” Hurst said, acid-toned. “Take her to your room, or do it on the floor of the atrium. Do it standing up, if you must. I have some books, if it would help. With pictures.”

“Gods, Hurst, are you suggesting…? It’s not that I
can’t
, you know. You never miss an opportunity to insult me…”

“No, no, no, I didn’t mean…” Hurst ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m not your enemy, brother,” he said tiredly, “and I’m not trying to insult you. I understand how painful this must be for you.” Although he didn’t, not entirely. How difficult could it be? “I thought it might help get things moving, that’s all.”

Jonnor looked at him suspiciously. “Hmm. Books, eh? I’ll fetch some more wine and you can show me these books of yours.”

~~~

Mia was agitated when she returned, and took the first opportunity to draw Hurst aside.

“Nothing’s happened! I mean, I know he’s grieving, and I’m no match for Tella, but still…”

“It’s all right. We’ve talked about it. He’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? Because he’s had weeks and…”

“It’s all right.”

“It has to be done before we travel…”

“I know. He understands. He’ll do it.” He saw her disbelieving face, and he had his own doubts, but he had to do his best to reassure her. “Look, I’m off the day after tomorrow, and then there’s one night before you leave…”

“One night!”

“He’ll do it, Mia. He knows what’s at stake here.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”

“Yes, but if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll find a way at the Ring. It’s difficult, but it’s not impossible.”

“If he can’t do anything here, how is he going to manage at the Ring?”

“If he can’t, I can. I’ve done it before.”

“Really? You’ve had sex at the Ring?” And she smiled, as sudden a radiance as the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “But it’s supposed to be a time of abstinence and spiritual contemplation!”

“What, for two months? That’s an awful lot of spiritual contemplation, and far too much abstinence for any normal man. Besides, I used to regard it as a challenge.”

She giggled, hand over mouth. “But how…? Where…?”

“Well, in the library, one time. There are some very secluded spots, if you know where to look. Up in the poetry section, for example. And in one of the ladies’ gardens another time.”

“Goodness! But how did you get in?”

“Actually, the getting in is considerably easier than the getting out, as I recall, but that’s a long story.” And a dark one, too, he thought uneasily. That was a bad time, not one he wanted to be reminded about.

Mia giggled again. He loved these intimate little moments with her, and the memory of them kept him from too much introspection. Whatever happened, they would always be friends, and perhaps that was enough.

Then she frowned and tipped her head to one side. “Used to? Don’t you do this sort of thing anymore, then?”

“Oh, not so much. When you’re sixteen, the risk is part of the attraction, but at thirty
-six… well, I wouldn’t claim greater maturity, but climbing over walls and evading guards is more effort and less fun, and the reward less… enticing. Or perhaps I just prefer the comfort of a bed these days.”

She smiled, but he could see concern in her eyes.

“Hurst, may I ask…?”

“Anything, you know that.”

“What have you and Jonnor decided… about you? And me, I mean.” She flushed a little, but still looked him straight in the eye.

He tried to respond in the same calm way, but his heart was racing. “Jonnor feels it would be better if it were just the two of you. Less confusing.”

She nodded, and he could read nothing in her face. “You’ve always… made your own arrangements, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I have the Companions, after all. And there are… other options.”

“And you’re… comfortable with that?”

“I am.” Was there any hesitation there? He hoped not.

“Because... I wouldn’t want you to think… I mean, I wouldn’t mind, you know… whatever the situation…”

He smiled then, loving her more than ever. He leaned forward and stroked her cheek. “Thank you, Mia. But it’s fine.”

And she beamed back at him. “If all goes well, perhaps I will have a child of my own by this time next year.”

“Hmm. Don’t depend on that. It took Tella a long time.”

“Oh, but that was Tella. No reason I should have the same trouble.”

He hesitated. Should he say anything? But he had no wish to worry her, and after all, it might happen. So he let it pass, smiled and said nothing.

Mia watched Hurst's wagon leave, accompanied by his three Companions and a second wagon loaded with their travel boxes. She wished they could all journey together, but too many travellers from one Karning would overload the sky ships. When next she saw Hurst at the Ring, everything would be different, for she would be Jonnor’s wife in every way. She remembered her father’s warning about Hurst, and how he would feel if he were excluded. He had kissed her cheek when he left, as always, but was he more subdued than usual? She shook off her unease. He was just nervous about his coming interview, that was all.

Jonnor was off with the builders, as usual, and her Companions were busy with the preparations for their own departure the next day, so she had many hours to fill. She had already packed her box. Normally she would have relished the chance to spend the day with her books, but not today. Today she could think of nothing but the coming night and what would happen then. Finally! She had waited so long. She understood Jonnor’s reluctance, and knew she was a poor substitute for Tella. Still, it was dispiriting to lie in her bed night after night hoping he would come to her, and being always disappointed.

The hours trickled past. Jonnor returned for the afternoon stillness, but he went to his room to rest and as soon as the bell sounded again he was gone. She prepared the roast with unusual care that evening. She made sure there were two decanters filled with the best wine and she put on one of her prettiest gowns, a close-fitting one which showed off what little shape she had. She had no experience of men in real life, but her books had taught her a great deal and she knew men liked such things. She had read about other techniques, too, more intimate tricks, but she was not confident she could carry them off effectively. Besides, the advice she’d been given as she grew up was that a wife should be passive and allow the man to take the lead.

When Jonnor returned for meat, he surprised her by making an effort to talk to her, or at least to respond to her chattering. It was rather a successful evening, despite the awkwardness, although neither of them ate much. She drank almost two goblets of wine, and Jonnor finished the rest of the decanter and began on the second. This time she was determined not to loiter downstairs, so she cleared away as soon as they had finished eating.

“Well, I shall go on up,” she said brightly.

“Of course,” he said, with a wide smile. “I’ll just have a little more wine, I think.”

His face was a little flushed, but then he often looked that way after a few goblets of wine. She climbed the stairs, and lit all the lamps in her room. She had made a few changes to the furnishings, in the hope that it would no longer remind Jonnor of Tella's long residence there. She slipped into one of Tella’s exquisite nightgowns, so much finer than her own, more suitable. There was just the faintest hint of perfume wafting from it. That would never do! She tossed it into a wardrobe, and pulled on one of her own gowns. It was less pretty, but at least it wouldn’t upset Jonnor.

She remembered the excitement she had felt the last time she had waited for Jonnor to come to her. Then she had been filled with pleasurable anticipation. Now she was only nervous, in case it all ended in disaster again and the marriage had to break. She shivered with fear at the thought. This was the last opportunity. Despite Hurst’s assurances, she had no confidence that anything would be possible at the Ring. Men and women were kept strictly apart there, and the restrictions were just too tight.

She heard Jonnor’s heavy footsteps on the stairs not long after, disappearing into his room. Then there was silence for a long time, and she grew more anxious. Eventually he came. He wore a thin robe with no gown underneath, and he still carried the decanter and goblet. His face was quite red, and he was breathing heavily. She stood beside the bed, not quite sure what to do, waiting for him to speak or to do something, but he simply stood watching her, taking an occasional mouthful of wine. When the goblet was empty, he refilled it and set the decanter down on a table.

“Take it off,” he said, his speech a little slurred.

“What?”

“The gown. Take it off.”

“Oh. Of course.”

With trembling fingers she pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the bed, and stood naked before him. He said nothing more, just watched her, drinking and watching, his heavy breathing audible in the stillness.

In all the books she had read describing such moments, whether in roundabout terms or more direct, nothing had prepared her for this unnerving silent scrutiny. The last traces of anticipation drained away, and for the first time she was frightened. She felt exposed, vulnerable, scared. Nor could she think what he wanted from her, what she could possibly do to make things better. She could find no words to reach him. She could only wait, hoping he would find the strength to cross whatever barrier he saw between them.

After what seemed an interminable time, he drained the goblet and set it down, his face fierce. At last he moved towards her, crossing the space between them in a few strides, tugging at the ties on his robe. Then he was there, pressing against her, pushing her, reaching for her. She could feel the heat of his body. His force carried her backwards so that her bare skin was pressed against the stone wall, rough and cold and unyielding. Still he pushed forwards, leaning against her, his knees between her legs, forcing them apart, grunting a little, his head down, not looking at her.

And then the pain. She had never imagined it would hurt so much, at first a sharp searing pain, and then a deeper burning inside her. She gasped, and gasped again each time he thrust into her. He was moaning, lost in his own sensations, and there was no stopping him. She was pinned to the wall by his lust, unable to speak or cry or move or protest. She thought the torture would never end as he rammed himself into her, over and over again.

And then, abruptly, it stopped. For a moment, they were both motionless, leaning against the wall, gasping for breath. She was too shocked to speak. For an age they stood there, and still he said nothing, not even looking at her. Then he pulled back, drew his robe around him with fierce, jerky tugs and without a glance turned away from her. Collecting decanter and goblet on the way, he left the room.

Her shaking legs collapsed beneath her and she slumped down, her knees banging hard against the marble floor. She knelt, rocking a little, her heart racing, trying to catch her breath. She could feel something warm trickling down her legs and when she put her hand there, it came away stained with blood. Still she couldn’t move.

At length, she heard the last bell sounding in the distance. Had it only been an hour since she had left the living floor? It felt like a lifetime ago. She rose unsteadily, and fetched her gown from the bed, using it to clean herself and then the floor. Then she went through to the water room. She had forgotten to light the burners, so the water was ice cold, but that seemed to fit her mood. She washed her legs, scrubbing with the cloth, but somehow she still felt unclean. She gave up and rinsed out the gown, hanging it up to dry.

She went back to the bedroom, and found an old gown to wear, a thick winter one, for she was shivering. Then she got into bed and curled into a tight, miserable ball.

~~~

Morsha, her senior Companion, woke her the next morning.

“Well, you must have had a good night, to be sleeping so late!” She winked at Mia, and went to open the shutters. “Communion in two small bells.”

For a moment Mia was puzzled, then with a stab of anguish she remembered. And, remembering, she was astonished that she had slept at all. She hauled herself out of bed, washed and dressed in her travelling clothes, and went down for family communion.

Jonnor was there, of course, his face showing – what exactly? He was not his usual impassive self, wrapped in his grief. He watched her, and for almost the first time since Tella’s death, he reached for her hand during the ceremony. Usually he sat across from her, silent and inscrutable, but today he sat close and held her hand. Once, when she dared to glance at him, he was looking at her. He gave her a tremulous little smile. She looked away quickly.

Afterwards, the wagons were already waiting in the departing courtyard, an open one loaded up with their boxes and the closed one Mia and her three Companions would ride in. Marna was fussing over her own two children, and Mista was crying, kissing all of them, even Jinnia, the baby. Some of the children were crying too, and the servants were crowding round. Mia had said her farewells the day before, and besides, she had no energy this morning for such emotion. She was afraid she might cry, and once started would be unable to stop.

She saw Morsha waiting beside the wagons, watching her with interested speculation, and then she noticed Jonnor hovering nearby.

“Have a good journey,” he said, his voice subdued. He crossed the short space between them, put his arms round her and hugged her tight, burying his face in her headscarf. “Forgive me,” he muttered into her ear. “It was the only way…”

She pulled away a little and forced a smile. Then on impulse she reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. “It’s all right,” she whispered, and saw relief wash over his face.

Only it wasn’t all right, was it? She very much wanted it to be so, but she was detached, somehow, distant. Ever since Tella’s death, she had imagined that he need only turn to her, see her properly for the first time, and everything would change. In time, perhaps, she might even be able to take her sister’s place in his affections. All her dreams had rested on it.

Yet now everything was different. She saw Jonnor in a new light, she herself was changed and there was a distance between them as there had never been before. She had always imagined that sex would bring them closer together, but now they might as well be on opposite sides of a swamp. Although his remorse comforted her a little, she was still alone.

In the bustle of clambering into the wagons and settling themselves, she lost sight of Jonnor amidst the press of people in the yard. As their wagon began to move and turned towards the open gates, she caught a glimpse of him again standing a little apart, his eyes dark, his face unsmiling. And then they rolled through the archway and he was gone.

Morsha, always the most sensible of her Companions, had brought blankets and food, and Mia remembered that she had not eaten that morning. So she wrapped herself up and nibbled fruit and bread and cold meat, while listening to Mista and Marna chattering, and avoiding Morsha’s eye, as the road rolled under their wheels.

And in time, as they relaxed, the questions came.

“So… did he manage it this time, Mia?” Naturally it would be Marna who asked. Mia found that she didn’t mind.

“Yes, he did.” They squealed, and she laughed a little too, caught up in their excitement.

“And? What was it like? Was he sweet? I’ve always thought Jonnor would be sweet…”

“Oh, you know…” She felt herself blush. Of course she couldn’t possibly tell them the truth. Fortunately they filled in the gaps themselves.

“I’ll bet it was lovely.”

“Such nice hands he has… I’d give anything to have them all over me!”

“Did he want it lots of times? They always do, once they start. You must be so sore.”

“Is he good at kissing? He has gorgeous lips, doesn’t he? So soft and warm…”

“Did he cuddle afterwards, or go straight to sleep? I like it when they cuddle.”

“I wish Jonnor would cuddle me. You lucky thing.”

“Better that than a fumble behind the kitchen door, like my first time. I had no idea what was going on!”

Mia smiled and laughed and said nothing as Mista and Marna chattered on, while Morsha sipped her drink and watched her. After a while, she reached across and patted Mia’s hand.

“There! The worst is over now, and after the quiet he’ll forget about Tella, you’ll see.”

“Course he will!” said Marna, looking surprised. “Why would he care anything about her? If he only knew
…”

But Morsha shushed her. To Mia’s relief, they fell silent and she turned away, closing her eyes.

It took them a long tedious day to reach the sky ship station, but they were on a good road and the wagon was as comfortable as cushions and hot stones and rubber wheels and ingenious suspension could make it. All the same, they were glad to arrive.

The sky ship station was a square brick-built structure of four storeys, with a large stable and wagon shed abutted to one side. The ground floor housed the kitchens and other utilitarian rooms, there were two floors of accommodation for those staying overnight, and the top floor was level with the sky ship way, a smooth road built on pillars which stretched off to the horizon to the northwest and southeast. They could have stayed at an inn and been more comfortable, but the place was convenient and practical.

They were expected, so workers streamed out to meet their arriving wagons, unload their boxes and show them to their apartment. There was water heated ready, and Mia made no protest when the others waved her through to bathe first. The water was blissfully hot, and even the stinging between her legs as she immersed herself was cleansing. She had been sore all day, grateful she had not had to ride. She felt refreshed and slept deeply that night, without dreams.

Their sky ship was not scheduled until noon, so the four women spent the morning waiting. Mista passed the time combing and rebraiding her waist-length hair, chattering non-stop about the purchases she would make at the Ring. Marna fretted about the children, some sewing lying unnoticed on her lap. Morsha repaired a torn undergown with delicate stitches. From time to time a deep rumbling from above set the whole building trembling.