Wolf Captured (99 page)

“You’ve mentioned him. He’s the one who’s in love with the future baroness.”

“And she with him,” Derian said, “and the rest of us just wishing they’d get on and see sense. Maybe I’ve learned something from them. Forget the agony of long drawn-out courtships. Rahniseeta, my darling, I’ve seen you in leisure, in adversity, and now injured in body and soul. I love you more for knowing the strength beneath the beauty. Be my wife, Rahniseeta. Please?”

Rahniseeta let her eyes meet Derian’s, and this time her smile was warm and relaxed.

“I never knew you could be so eloquent, Derian Counselor.”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted. “See what you do to me?”

“I thought I had,” she said, and this time her smile was definitely flirtatious. “I like what I’m seeing now.”

He bent his head to kiss her, and she returned the caress with warmth.

“So,” Derian said, and his voice was husky. “Will you marry me?”

Rahniseeta touched his cheek with her one sound hand, and Derian knew she was tracing a pattern amid the freckles.

“Yes,” she said softly, “I will.”

RAHNISEETA FEARED HARJEEDIAN would disapprove of her engagement to Derian, but instead of disapproving, the aridisdu was enthusiastic.

“This is marvelous, Rahni! I am certain that u-Liall will want to send some sort of embassy to Hawk Haven, Bright Bay, and possibly the Isles as well. You might well find yourself made ambassador to Hawk Haven. Your marriage to Derian Counselor is certain to soften any feelings of hostility that our … ill-planned venture may arouse once King Tedric learns of it. You may even be able to convince Derian to present the matter from our point of view—show that we meant no harm.”

Harjeedian stopped for breath, and Rahniseeta inserted, “And it doesn’t hurt that Derian is a king’s counselor and can claim some favors from his heirs.”

“Not in the least,” Harjeedian agreed. “How can they react aggressively toward a land where one of their honored advisors has found a wife?”

Fleetingly, Rahniseeta found herself thinking of Derian’s mare, Prahini. Was that all Harjeedian considered her, a consolation prize of some sort? When next she spoke, the thought gave her tone an ironical edge.

“And it doesn’t hurt that Derian says he loves me?” she said. “Or that I love him?”

“Not in the least,” Harjeedian assured her. “It’s better that way. It will add a certain degree of sincerity and romanticism. From the tales I’ve heard Barnet Lobster sing, the northerners place a high value on romantic gestures.”

Harjeedian was about to say more, but suddenly became aware of the tightness that had come over his sister’s expression.

“Rahni …” he said, faltering. “I … I’ve made a complete fool of myself, haven’t I?”

She only stared at him, not trusting her voice.

Harjeedian sank down on his knees next to her bed, and took her hand in his, much as Derian had done not long before.

“Rahni … I’m sorry. I do care that Derian treasures you. I suppose I’ve simply spent too much time looking at omens and portents. Nearly since the moment I had Firekeeper and Derian aboard
Fayonejunjal
I’ve been plagued with doubts regarding the rightness of what I did. The deities don’t accept acting on orders as an excuse for unwise actions—especially from an aridisdu. I’m a selfish clod. Forgive me?”

“I’ll think about it,” Rahniseeta replied frostily, but she also managed a smile.

“Thank you.” Harjeedian rose. “I’ll go find Derian and let him know that I would welcome him into our family.”

“And you will not mention the possible political advantages for us all,” Rahniseeta said, her tone making this an order.

Harjeedian had the grace to looked shamed.

“I won’t,” he promised, and took his leave.

A FEW DAYS LATER, Healer and Harjeedian both agreed that Rahniseeta was strong enough to make the descent to where a boat would take them back to the mainland. She wasn’t as certain. Her arm still throbbed when it was joggled, and lying in bed had done nothing for the stiffness of her torn muscles and bruised flesh.

However, Healer’s talent had done a great deal to keep complications from arising. Rahniseeta was free from both infection and fever, and the others were eager to return to the mainland. Even Firekeeper had reappeared, explaining that she and Blind Seer had gone to the other island to thank those wolves who had been their first hosts. Rahniseeta also gathered the wolf-woman had arrived at some conclusion or other, for Derian reported that the tension that had haunted Firekeeper since their capture back in Hawk Haven had vanished.

Firekeeper even made a point of coming to tell Rahniseeta that she approved of the engagement.

“Derian is my first human friend,” the wolf-woman said, “and always be my friend. I am glad to see him like this. Happy.”

Rahniseeta found herself inordinately pleased by the wolf-woman’s support. Firekeeper’s disapproval would not have changed Rahniseeta’s mind, but it would have created unpleasantness.

The maimalodalum had arranged to have two Wise Elk carry a litter suspended between them so Rahniseeta would not need to make the long walk. The elk’s gait was deliberate and smooth, even on the steepest inclines, and Rahniseeta was deeply honored by their aid. She knew full well that even the Wise Horses did not permit themselves to be harnessed except upon the greatest need, and as far as she knew, the Wise Elk never did.

Except for Firekeeper becoming mildly seasick, the voyage back to the mainland was as pleasant as a holiday outing. Dantarahma’s body had “washed ashore” a few days before, and the matter of his treachery—though not the details—had been made public. They knew they were all regarded as heroes, and that made for a degree of giddiness. Even Harjeedian, usually so careful of his dignity, was merry.

Barnet Lobster was an honorary member of the crew that came to bring them back, and had news of his own.

“U-Liall is willing to let me go home to the Isles, in order that I might speak to the queen on their behalf. It’s in the way of being my reward for refusing to go ashore on Misheemnekuru. I’ve agreed to publicly represent myself as the only survivor of the shipwrecked
Explorer.
To be honest, given how the others behaved in the end, I’m just as happy with that. Queen Valora, however, will be told the full truth.”

Harjeedian smiled sardonically, “Honesty is best, especially as if trade does begin between our peoples, some may hear rumors otherwise—though u-Liall will certainly declaim this an inauspicious matter for discussion.”

Barnet nodded. “That’s what I suggested as well. I’m not even really telling a lie. Except for those here, no one knows the precise truth, and I’ve already found that most of the disdum do not care to contemplate how narrowly disaster has been averted.”

Rahniseeta listened carefully. She’d seen how both Firekeeper and Derian had tensed at the mention of Queen Valora, and thought it sad that Barnet, who had been Derian’s friend, would now be—at least politically—his adversary. Being an ambassador was going to be more complicated than she had imagined—but she reassured herself that she would hardly be given the honor herself. More likely she would be advisor to some aridisdu appointed to the task.

Derian’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“That’s quite a crowd on the wharf,” he said. “How are they going to keep what happened quiet if they give us such a public welcome?”

“Say that the omens favored it,” Harjeedian said, but his tone was absent, and he borrowed a long-glass from one of the sailors and scanned the shore.

After a moment, he lowered it, speculation dominating his expression.

“Very interesting,” he said. “I’m not sure that the crowd is for us specifically.”

“What do you mean?” Rahniseeta asked.

“Can you look through this?” Harjeedian said by way of answer. “Tell me what you think.”

Handling the glass one-handed was awkward, but Rahniseeta managed.

“It reminds me,” she said, “of the processions a few years ago when Ahmyndisdu Tiridanti was chosen for u-Liall. The robing is the same, as is the order of precedence. There’s a jaguar to the fore, just as the doe was then.”

“With Truth in retirement,” Harjeedian said almost absently, “omens dictated that the mainland representative take over. A new jaguar will come over from Misheemnekuru in a few days.”

Rahniseeta offered him a return of the glass. Harjeedian immediately raised it to his eye.

“Do you think we’ll be in time to see who is going to be chosen?” Rahniseeta asked. “I suppose that they’re heading for the Temple of Sea Beasts. The new junjaldisdu must be of that order.”

“Perhaps,” Harjeedian said, and his voice had tightened with excitement. “Perhaps, but they don’t seem to be moving. They seem to be waiting.”

He lowered the glass and Rahniseeta could see that his eyes were shining.

“Waiting,” he said with emphasis, “for this boat … or more precisely, for someone on this boat.”

Rahniseeta understood Harjeedian’s excitement. Although in the past members of u-Liall had been chosen from the general populace, most commonly they came from the ranks of the disdum. Moreover, as the crew had left shore earlier that day, it was unlikely that the jaguar sought one of their number. That meant the one being waited for was among the four returning humans: Firekeeper, Harjeedian, Derian, and Rahniseeta herself.

The former two were the most likely. Ever since her arrival, there had been debate that Firekeeper’s ability to speak directly with the yarimaimalom made her a logical member of u-Liall. Selecting her to take Dantarahma’s place would give her the honor without forcing the creation of a new post. Firekeeper’s tendency toward seasickness did make Rahniseeta wonder how good a representative she would be. Perhaps the deities would free her from that susceptibility.

A far more likely choice would be Harjeedian. The Temple of the Cold Bloods had its associations with water. Indeed, the majority of the yarimaimalom associated with the temple were at least part-time water dwellers. Harjeedian also had made a historic sea voyage, and was one of the few Liglimom who possessed intimate knowledge of lands that would certainly be of great concern in the coming years.

Glancing over at her brother, Rahniseeta could tell that his thoughts were similar to her own. He had straightened, his merriment giving way to dignified gravity. He was even trying to surreptitiously tidy his clothing, which was rather worse for wear after several days on Misheemnekuru.

Derian had taken up the long-glass and was examining the crowd on shore.

“Eshinarvash is there!” he said, his voice warming with pleased excitement. “And Varjuna and Zira and Meiyal …”

Harjeedian interrupted. “It is not uncommon for various members of the yarimaimalom to accompany the procession. Of course, the temple heads do so as well.”

Rahniseeta wondered if anyone else could hear the excitement vibrating below Harjeedian’s deliberate lecture. From the soft smile on Firekeeper’s face, and Blind Seer’s much broader panting laughter, she thought at least two did so, very clearly.

“Maybe,” Rahniseeta said, hoping to soften Harjeedian’s disappointment if they had misread the omens, “the procession is merely waiting for us. They may wish Firekeeper to offer direct verbal interpretation for the jaguar. It would be a nice touch and an honor for one whom our people have so misused.”

Harjeedian frowned at this reminder of Firekeeper’s privileged position, but nodded crisply.

“Good thought, Rahniseeta. In any case, it means we won’t miss the choosing.”

His voice still held that anticipatory vibration. Visualizing her brother’s disappointment, Rahniseeta found herself hoping that he, and not Firekeeper, would be the one the deities had chosen.

The sailboat glided into its dock, handled with more than usual expertise by a captain and crew all too aware that they were the center of attention. They did credit to their training, and the gangplank was lowered with quite unnecessary ceremony.

Despite her seasickness, Firekeeper—Blind Seer at her side—managed to be the first onto solid land. They paused, waiting to assist Rahniseeta, but she waved them back.

“My arm’s broken,” she said, feeling all too much the center of attention, “not my leg.”

Nevertheless, Derian insisted on giving her some support, for which she was grateful. Her balance wasn’t everything she would like. Harjeedian hovered behind, and Rahniseeta fought down giggles at the idea of her dignified aridisdu brother diving into the water to haul her out if she slipped.

But all the passengers made it to shore without incident. Before the captain and crew could begin the jangling routine of taking down sails and getting the sailboat ready for dock, an enormous male jaguar strode forward. Tiridanti and the other three members of u-Liall walked behind him.

Fortunately the crowd dropped politely back, so there was room for those who had just arrived to walk forward and meet them on a broader section of the wharf. Otherwise, someone would quite likely have ended up inadvertently shoved into the water.

When the jaguar paused to sniff noses with Blind Seer, Rahniseeta heard Harjeedian’s swift, sharp intake of breath, but he said nothing, and if he sighed in relief when the jaguar passed on after this exchange of politenesses, he did so so softly that Rahniseeta didn’t hear.

It was evident that the jaguar was coming their way, and Rahniseeta made to move to one side so it could pass and get to Harjeedian. To her utmost astonishment, the jaguar stopped in front of her. It looked her up and down, heavy head moving with thoughtful deliberation, eyes more golden than Truth’s intently focused. Then, aligning both paws directly in front of its chest, the jaguar gave a deep bow.

The motion was deliberate and calculated. No one could mistake it for a stretch. Rahniseeta’s ears began to hum, and she thought she might faint. As from a great distance, Rahniseeta heard Tiridanti’s high, young voice raised to carry to the waiting multitude.

“A choice has been made! The deities have spoken. The new junjaldisdu is named Rahniseeta.”