The Saga of the Renunciates (73 page)

“You can fill me in on everything I need to know,” Aleki said, “and keep me from making any real social blunders…”

“And my father will be leading the delegation,” said Monty, “You owe it to all of us to come and keep him from doing something disgraceful.”

“Oh, surely Jaelle—or Peter—”

“I’m not sure Jaelle likes me,” Aleki said, “She’s civil enough, but I get the feeling somehow that she’s fighting me. Haldane resents me, and I don’t blame him. His career’s here on this world, and I come and then I go but still he knows my report can make or break him. There’s no way he’s ever going to like me. I’d like to go with someone who’s not hostile to me.”

She sighed and nodded. “When you put it that way, of course.”

“Do you have anything to wear? Or shall I have them requisition something for you?”

“I can do better than that. At Midwinter, Lady Rohana gave me a gown—I wondered when I’d ever have a chance to wear it again.”

“Shall I fetch you from the Guild House?” Monty asked, and she laughed merrily.

“Heavens, no! I can imagine the talk that would cause! I love my sisters, but they have one trait I despise in women—they gossip! I don’t grudge them their fun—but I don’t want to be part of it either. I’ll meet you in the street near the castle.”

She gave Aleki her hand; Monty insisted on taking her to the door.

I like him better as a colleague than a lover. I would rather be his friend than his mistress
. Reluctantly, she let him take a farewell kiss; she did not want to hurt him.

Walking back through the streets, she remembered that Jaelle had once accused her of being too protective toward men.
Probably true
, she thought,
I’m stronger than most of the men I know, and they’re so damned easy to hurt. The Amazons say it’s wrong to hurt a woman; why is it right to hurt a man
?

Or have so many of them suffered so much at the hands of men
—
Camilla, for instance
—
that they no longer believe men can be hurt at all, but are always superior and invulnerable
?

She could feel for Monty—alone and friendless on a strange world—because she remembered when she had been alone on the Alpha colony for training, a stranger from a pioneer world, an exotic, a difficult conquest, there were so many men who had wanted to seduce her because she was alien and different; not because of who or what she was. She had been so lonely. She was lonely now…

Men are so weak. Or do I surround myself with men who are weak, because the strong ones would challenge me too much?

There was no one on hall duty, but Rezi came, her hands floury from the kitchen, to let her in.

“Some of our sisters from Bellarmes Guild House are here for Festival, and you will be going to the women’s dance tonight, won’t you? Camilla said she was going with you.”

Magda thought she really would have preferred the women’s dance to the dance in the public square of Thendara, but she shook her head. “I am sorry; I am promised elsewhere. I did not think Camilla would have involved me in her plans without asking.”

Rezi made a rueful gesture. “Very well; but do not come and weep in my lap if Camilla is angry with you!”

Magda flared, “I am not Camilla’s property nor is she mine!”

Rezi laughed and shook her head. “You and Camilla must settle your lovers’ quarrels without me.”

Magda went up the stairs frowning. It had never occurred to her that Camilla might expect, or feel she had a right to expect her company at Midsummer.
I should have known. Oath-sisters are family
. If it came to that, she thought she would rather be with Camilla, or even with Rezin whom she really did not know well or like much, than with Monty and Aleki and the whole damned Terran delegation! But she had given her word, and it was important to her work.

She spread her holiday gown on the bed to air; she had showered in the Terran HQ, so she set about brushing up her short hair; while she was at it, Camilla came into the room and stopped short in delighted amazement.

“How pretty you look,
breda
! But that gown is too fine for the women’s dance; our sisters from Bellarmes have been on the road for days and have only traveling-wear, and many of the women will be poor widows and the like who would live with us in the Amazon house if they could, but they have children or aging parents they must care for. Festival gowns like that would make them feel very shabby, so we usually do not dress up at all for the women’s dances. Besides, dresses like that are only to attract men!”

“Oh, Camilla, I am sorry! But I cannot go to with you to the women’s dance, I am expected elsewhere…”

Camilla’s low voice was filled with ripples of amusement. “And no doubt you have been invited to Comyn Castle and Lord Hastur himself will lead you out to dance!”

Magda began weakly to giggle. “I don’t know about Lord Hastur,” she began, “but the truth is, Camilla… oh, you’ll never believe this!” She broke off; she could hardly tell Camilla about the Terrans and Alessandro Li’s insistence that it was her duty to come.

Fortunately Camilla assumed at once that she had had the invitation through Jaelle, who was her oath-mother; and an invitation from Comyn amounted, after all, to a royal command.

“How splendid! You must tell me all about it afterward,
breda
. You have no jewels, but I have a necklace of firestones I can lend you; it is just the color to look beautiful with that dress,” she said, and went to fetch it. When Camilla brought it, Magda stared at the precious jewels.

“Camilla, it’s too much, I can’t take that—”

“Why not? What is mine is yours,” Camilla said simply, “and it is for sure I shall never dance at Comyn Castle with the Hasturs! It was my mother’s; I saw her only once after—” she hesitated, “after what I told you; but when she died, it was sent to me by a messenger. I never wear jewelry; but there is no reason it should lie forever in a box and not be displayed on the throat of a beautiful woman for once.” She put it round Magda’s neck, and Magda said impulsively, “You are beautiful to me, Camilla!”

Camilla laughed. “I did not know you suffered also from poor eyesight with all your other troubles,” she said, but she smiled at Magda, and caught her close in a quick embrace. “The Comyn ball ends at midnight,” she said, “and we will go on in the public square till dawn. Come and join us afterward.”

Magda said impulsively, “I would really rather stay with you. I only wish I could.”

I would. This isn’t a pleasure for me, it’s going back on duty. Camilla’s worth any ten of them, and more fun to be with
.

Camilla’s face lighted. She said, “Really?” and caught Magda closer still, She held Magda tight, her face buried in Magda’s hair. She whispered “Margali, Margali… you know I love you …” and could not go on. After a minute, when her voice was steady again, she said, “You are not, like Keitha, a
cristoforo
… it does not horrify you…” and broke off again.

I should have expected this. I have been backing away from it since I came to this house. I discovered this day that it was not a man I wanted. I did not want Peter, and Monty was no better. I should have known all along
…

I gave myself to Monty and I did not care for him. And Camilla is my sister, my closest friend here, she has cared for me and stood by me when I was in disgrace, whenever I was alone here and needed a friend, there she stood, asking for nothing, offering me love and devotion. In the name of the Goddess herself, how can I blind myself to the truth, how can I give myself to Monty who is nothing to me, and refuse Camilla this
? She kissed Camilla’s soft greying curls, raised the woman’s face and kissed her on the lips. Camilla smiled at her, breathless, and Magda said hesitantly, “I—I don’t know—no, I am not a
cristoforo
, the idea does not—does not trouble me in that way, but 1—I don’t know, I never thought about it—” she fell silent, fumbling for words.

Never thought about it, that I could love my friends, instead of responding to men who are after all alien to me
… she knew that it was more than this, she was not certain, but if she could try to make Monty happy, when he was nothing to her, she was willing—even eager—to turn to Camilla.

“But I don’t know—I have never—”

Camilla stopped her confused words with a kiss; but then, taking Magda’s face between her hands, she looked at her seriously.

“Do you mean this? Even when you were a young girl, you had no
bredhya
… ?”

Numbly, Magda shook her head.
Never. I had no woman friend, not even an ordinary friend, not a lover, till I came to the Guild House. I did not even know that I wanted a woman for a friend until I discovered myself risking my life for Jaelle.

It almost seemed to her that Camilla could read her thoughts a little.

“It’s all right, love,” she said in a whisper. “Love is a simple thing, a very simple thing… come and let me show you how simple.”

There was nothing inside the HQ to distinguish Midsummer from Midwinter. The light was the same—no windows to throw back the heavy winter draperies, no smell of baking in the air, none of the street sounds of merrymaking. But when Peter came in, she managed to find a smile for him.

From behind his back, rather self-consciously, he produced one of the baskets of fruit and flowers that vendors sold at this season in the streets. She was touched; he must have gone into the Old Town for it.

“From Midwinter to Midsummer; we have been together half a year, Jaelle. Who could forget that? And when Midwinter comes again, we shall be a family of three.” He caught her close in his arms, kissing her, and she felt a flood of warmth for him. He had remembered. But it was not, quite, the old warmth. That was gone forever, and there was only emptiness where it had been. As she nibbled on a piece of the fruit, and went to find something to put the flowers in water, she wondered if this was why Renunciates vowed never to marry
di catenas;
because that first feeling went away so swiftly… he came up behind her, holding her familiarly and whispering in her ear.

“You must find your finest outfit,” he murmured, “for dancing tonight, even if you don’t do much dancing in your condition—”

“I don’t really want to go to the public dance in the square,” she demurred. “It’s always so crowded, and there are riffraff— sometimes an Amazon will get into fights with men who want to prove something—”

“Nonsense,” Peter said. “I’ll be with you; do you think I would let any man lay hands on my wife? Yes, yes, I know, you’re strong, your Oath says you can protect yourself, but if you think I’d let a pregnant woman fight… anyhow, there’s no question of the public dance,” he added. “It’s a famous first for Darkover, darling, and I’m sure you had something to do with it. An invitation has come from Comyn Council for Montray and a delegation from the Terran Headquarters; and of course they specified you and I should make one couple, since you are Darkovan and I have worked so often in the field that I know manners, language, protocol for such things. They are trying to cement good relations by asking certain hand-picked members of the staff—”

“That would certainly leave out Russ Montray,” Jaelle said, noting that her tone was acid. Peter shook his head.

”Unfortunately the Coordinator can’t be left out, but an unofficial word came that I’m supposed to stick to his elbow and make sure he doesn’t do anything too ghastly. And of course Monty will be there. But you’re assigned to stick tight to Cholayna, since she’s never been in the field and never will, and she’s the only woman here with rank suitable for the Coordinator. I wish we could manage to get Magda from the Guild House but I don’t suppose they’d let her go. Between us we’re hoping to keep the Old Man out of trouble.”

Jaelle still cringed at the disrespect in his voice. If the man was so incompetent, they should remove him from office, or at least make sure he was a figurehead without power; as Comyn Council had done with several recent kings, and she supposed they had done with
Dom
Gabriel—everyone knew Rohana had been the real power behind Ardais, for many years.

Peter directed her eyes to the invitation. “Look, we were specially requested— ‘ and he pointed. ”Mr. and Mrs. Peter Haldane…”

Men dia pre’zhiuro… never be known again by the name of father, husband or lover
… “Peter,” she said, her voice dangerously quiet, “I am not Mrs. Peter Haldane. I am Jaelle n’ha Melora. I will not say this to you again.”

He flinched, but protested. “I know that, love. But the Terrans do not understand, and why does it matter what they call you? It is a legal formality, no more. They probably looked at your name on the payroll lists—don’t blame
me
for it.”

She let the paper drop with a curious sense of finality. My whole identity gone. Not Jaelle n’ha Melora. Not even Jaelle, daughter of Jalak. Just an attachment of Peter Haldane, wife, mother of his child…
. I am no one. Not here. Peter is right. It doesn’t matter
.

She saw him relax. “I was sure you’d be reasonable,” he said. “That’s my good girl.” Clearly without speech she heard him say,
I knew you’d see it my way
. “What are you going to wear? You can’t go in uniform, or in Amazon breeches…”

“I suppose I shall wear the green gown Rohana gave me at Midwinter,” she said, trying to recapture the excitement of their first dance together, but he did not even remember; he shook his head and said “That’s been seen; for this you should have something new and special.”

“I have dresses at home in the Guild House, but my own clothes would not fit me now.” She looked ruefully at her thickening waist. “But Rafaella and I have always worn one another’s clothes, and she is heavier than I; her dresses will fit me perfectly now, and she would be glad to lend me one.”

How she had twitted Rafaella when her waist had thickened and she could not wear Jaelle’s clothes!

“I can’t let you borrow somebody else’s used clothes!”

“Piedro, don’t be absurd, what are sisters for?”

“My wife does not have to
borrow
clothes, or wear an old, worn dress!”

“Piedro,” she said, reasonably, “Rafaella dresses very well, she never wears a Festival gown more than once or twice, and no one here has seen any of them, they might as well be new.” It seemed that Piedro was two men again, her lover, and this crazy Terran with his absurd prejudices and notions, standing between her and her beloved Piedro. “Be reasonable, Piedro. Where in Thendara would we find a dressmaker who would make us a gown on Festival itself? I must either wear my old green gown—though I cannot think of a gown I have worn but once as
old
—borrow one from Rafaella—or wear my old breeches,” she finished, laughing. “There is no other choice!”

“I hadn’t thought of that. It
is
short notice, isn’t it?” He frowned, then his eyes lit up. “I know, we’ll go down to Costuming and get them to make up something; it isn’t a holiday here. Let me have the green gown—we’ll have it copied in some other fabric; do you like blue?”

That took the rest of the day, with barely a moment to snatch a bite of dinner before it was time to get dressed. It seemed to Jaelle that she was always snatching at something in haste— food, hello-good-bye, a shower, piece of paper with important message, a piece of clothing, a minute for lovemaking. She was getting heartily sick of it, but it wouldn’t do to be too late; by the time the dress was sent up by messenger, carefully wrapped in plastic sheeting, she was saving seconds, and looking wistfully at the comfortable trail leathers as she brushed out the curls in her hair. As the yards and yards of skirt spilled from the box, Jaelle gasped; it was exquisite, low-cut, trimmed with marl-fur and embroideries. Then, looking more closely, she realized it was not spider-silk, nor fur… there was not an inch of honest thread in it. Just chemicals, all artificial, like all Terran clothing. Darkovan made, it would have cost a season’s income from a good-sized estate, but it was a sham, a fraud.

“Peter, I can’t wear this!”

But he was in the shower and could not hear, and by the time he had turned off the water, she knew she could not refuse. He had spent a week’s pay on having it made up so quickly; he could have requisitioned it from Costume as a work expense and turned it back for recycling afterward, but he knew her aversion to recycling things and had paid for it and arranged for her to keep it as a Midsummer-gift.

Yet how could she wear this artificial gown? She would look like a Terran masquerading as Darkovan…
well, that is what I am. Mrs Peter Haldane. Part of the Terran delegation
. As she struggled with the hooks, she wrinkled her nose; it didn’t smell right. She rummaged in her drawer, bringing out the small silken sachet packet Magda had given her. Her first sewing project, Magda had told her, apologizing for the crooked stitches; the uneven straggling stitchery reminded Jaelle suddenly of Camilla, her first year in the Guild House, teaching a small bewildered Dry-town child to sew.

I always thought I would grow up in chains. I had forgotten that
. She remembered her first year in the house; maturity had come upon her. In the Guild House it was a happy celebration, admitting her to the company of women, where in Shainsa it would have meant she would be ceremonially chained.
Yet here I am again in chains
… and she was horrified at herself. Kindra had said it so often; it was better to wear chains in truth than to weight yourself with invisible chains and pretend that you are free.
Oh. mother, mother, I wish I could talk to you… I cannot even remember my own mother’s face. Only Kindra’s
…

“What are you doing,
chiya
?” Peter asked, coming out of the shower, naked, and starting to get into his breeches. She showed him the sachet and he nodded.

“I’ve seen Magda do that; she used to buy all her clothes in the old Town when she could—she said the stuff from Costume never smelled right—and she never took off a dress without rubbing the seams with sweet spice, and she taught me to do it too.” She caught the familiar scent of incense from his cloak as he slung it about his shoulders.

“That’s what’s wrong with Aleki,” Jaelle said abruptly. “His clothes come from Costume; he doesn’t smell right in them.”

“Right; I knew there was something and I couldn’t put my finger on it,” Peter said. “I’ll mention it to him, shall I? Might come better from a man—you look lovely,
preciosa
. Let’s go.”

In the walk across the marketplace, though a few members of the delegation complained about the rough cobblestone and holiday footwear, Jaelle began to believe that it was Midsummer; the familiar smells and sounds, the Festival crowds. Even through the lights which blazed in the Old Town she could see the four moons, all nearing full together. Their invitation was accepted at the doorway and she heard musicians already playing. A few professional dancers were already giving displays of dancing, while the guests drifted around the floor, greeting friends; then the first general dance began and Jaelle let Peter swing her out on the floor. The new dress felt lighter than a dress of honest fabric; she felt as if she were floating, as if tensions she had not known she had were dissolving.

She had never before danced in Comyn Castle at Festival. She had renounced this heritage, had spent her life among the Renunciates and their simpler Festival celebrations. Yet she might come here again and again, if she did as Rohana asked, and took a Council seat.
And it would please Peter so
… in shock, she realized that she was actually considering it, and the shock was followed by a sharp wave of dizziness, almost but not quite nausea.

“
Chiya
, what’s the matter?”

She smiled at him, faintly. “It’s a nuisance, being pregnant. I need air—”

“Sit here—by the open door. I’ll get you a drink,” he said, and she sighed with relief as she let herself collapse there. “I don’t really want—” she began, but he was already gone, hurrying toward the buffet table.

She was near the balcony doors; and it was very warm. She went out on the balcony, leaning against the stone rail, breathing in the night fog. The multicolored moonlight turned the fog to pearly rainbows. She could smell the heavy scent of flowers, and the soft chirring of insects. It was so pleasant, after weeks of sterile indoor smells and yellow harsh Terran lights. She sat still on the bench. Soon she must go inside or Peter would worry when he could not find her. But it felt so good to sit here and breathe in all the smells of the summer. Momentarily, she dozed, then snapped awake, hearing a voice she could not reconcile with the smells of the Castle garden. Alessandro Li; an angry whisper in Standard.

“I told you he would be here! What luck!”

“Alessandro—Aleki—hasn’t Jaelle been able to teach you anything? He is the son-in-law of Lord Alton; you simply cannot approach him and start asking impertinent questions about the private business of the Domain—” It was Magda! What was Magda doing here?

“You don’t understand, Magda. This man is the key to everything I was sent here to find out about Darkover. Carr knows—”

“This man is
Dom
Ann’dra Lanart, and that is what you must deal with,” Magda said sharply. “I don’t know if he’s Carr or not—”

“Well, I do; personnel pictures. And who else would he be? You said yourself he was Terran!”

“Pictures be damned,” Magda said, and then Jaelle heard Monty’s voice.

“He may or he may not be the one you are looking for, Sandro. But you can’t approach him here, and that’s all there is to it. Dance with him, Magda; that’s what we’re here for, not to make trouble.”

“I’m hardly going to make trouble,” Aleki said, but Jaelle could hear that he was angry. “I simply must talk to him; why don’t you help me find a way to do it, instead of being so damned stubborn?”

“You are hardly the one to talk about being damned stubborn,” Magda said angrily, “Once and for all, get it out of your head, and stop thinking like a damned Terran, with your mind on business even at a Festival ball!”

“Magdalen Lorne!” That was the voice of the elder Montray, being heavily jocular, “Is that any way to talk to your superior, and at a party too? You look smashing. Monty, why didn’t you tell me you’d hunted her up and talked her into coming? I might have pulled rank on you, son, and grabbed her for my escort myself!”

“Cholayna,” Magda said, and Jaelle could hear the relief in her voice, “How charming you look. Are you here with the coordinator?”

Cholayna’s gentle, neutral voice said, “Not nearly so many stares as I had expected. I don’t knbw whether it is simply good manners, or whether they just expect that Terrans will look freakish.”

“If they’re so narrow-minded they’d stare at you because your skin color is different,” Alessandro Li said, “then to hell with them all. They’re just a bunch of ignorant natives after all. Hullo, Haldane, where’s your lovely lady?”

“She felt a little faint,” Peter said. “I left her by the doors while I went to get her something cool to drink.”

Jaelle, knowing this was her cue, picked herself up and went back inside the balcony doors. “I went out for a breath of air. It was very warm in there.” She accepted the glass Peter put in her hand and sipped. It was the pale mountain wine, and it made her think of their first dance, at Midwinter. She wondered if Peter remembered. Magda was wearing the rust-colored gown she had worn at Midwinter, with a superb necklace of firestones; Jaelle went to examine this.