by Andre Norton
"It is possible," she said, and her voice was harsher than she intended. "That is all you need to know."
Where her face was hot and, she felt sure, very red, Gaurin's turned pale beneath his tan. A muscle worked in his cheek. "Then that is all that can be said—that must be said—about it. Only know this, my Ashen, and you are, somewhere in the depths of your being where only I can touch, mine and mine alone. There will never be another woman for me, not in this life."
Then he did something that, to anybody who had not grown up knowing that some people had use of certain portions of the Power, would have seemed strange. He put the bracelet to his lips, breathed upon it, and returned it to her. It seemed to Ashen that the opalescence flared briefly, and then subsided.
"Let this be a pledge between us," he said gravely. "This has brought us together, and that, too, was foreordained, as if my father had arranged our union. If ever you are in need of anything, put this on, think of me, and I will know, and whatever separates us, even if it is half the world or I face an entire army alone, I will overcome it to be at your side."
She looked into his eyes, feeling that she could lose herself in their depths.
"Then never can I dare wear it, for I can never stop thinking of you."
Nevertheless, she slipped it on. It felt unaccountably warm, even through her sleeve. "You have opened yourself to me and I can be no less honest. Yes, I am yours and only yours and I know you for my heart's own love—but my body belongs to another. If only we had met earlier—a day, an hour. But such regrets are for children. We are as we are, and I am another man's wife. Yes, I love you, but I love and respect him also and owe him much— my life, in fact, as he owes me his.
But I will not forget you." She had to look away. "I—I cannot."
"Ashen." He kissed her fingers.
Her entire body tingled again. "How shall we manage when we meet—"
"We will manage, because we must. You need fear no untoward incident on my behalf, and I know your nobility of heart would not allow you to falter from your vows." And yet he yearned toward her.
With a visible effort he mastered himself. He arose, and helped her to her feet.
"Now, come, Lady Ashen, and if your momentary indisposition has passed, allow me to escort you back to that most fortunate of men, your wedded husband, Obem of the Sea-Rovers. If he has the least bit of poetry in his soul, he has missed you sorely."
And with that, he led her toward where Obem was still enjoying himself among his companions, put her hand firmly in his, bowed, and disappeared into the crowd of well-wishers.
Seven
The Dowager Queen Ysa sat at her desk, pretending to draft a letter. In reality, her thoughts were very much elsewhere, and only a portion of her attention was given to Lady Marcala, who paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.
The little winged messenger had brought back only a confused impression of what was transpiring to the north; all seemed cloaked in a cold fog the color of dirty snow. Nevertheless, Ysa got an impression of forces gathering, if not yet ready to advance, and another impression, most curious, that these forces thought themselves undetected. She had caught a distinct feeling of someone or something being startled when she grasped Visp and drew from it what it had gleaned. Ysa thought it was not coincidence that, from that moment, the unseasonable cold that had gripped Rendel began to loosen.
If only in this, Visp had proven invaluable once again. Of course, with winter the chill would descend once more, but knowing that there was at least a little time when that unseen, unknown force began to move southward, was a comfort.
Still, it would be unwise to fritter away what time they all still had. She made a note to reinforce the flyer's loyalty to her and her alone. That little swerve when Visp had flown close to what she now knew was the cart, unlawfully carrying
Ashen away in that sorry adventure Florian had arranged—
Something Marcala was saying cut through the Dowager's musings. "And did you see how that Nordorn ambassador was dancing attention on our Bog-Princess? She didn't seem the least bit averse, either, and her married only an hour or so before."
"I did notice," Ysa said. In fact, when Marcala broached the subject, the
Dowager's pen had slipped, making an unsightly blot on the drafting paper. "And yet, nothing untoward occurred. Perhaps you are imagining things, Marcala."
"Perhaps you didn't see what I saw," the other woman retorted. "He was holding her hand, and by the looks of them, they weren't talking about what a nice feast it was."
"Ashen was a little overcome with the strain. I understand she had forgotten to eat the past couple of days." Ysa looked at Marcala, wondering what was really behind her complaints. Was she afraid that Ashen and Obern were not truly wed, and that Harous might take up his suit once more? Surely not. The sounds coming from their apartment, when he had all but carried her inside, had reached the corridor and many curious ears.
"That is beside the point. I think that if there had not been that little interlude—" She laughed a little, and even Ysa smiled. "—she would have gone off with him straightaway."
"Gaurin. He holds his father's title, and is of royal blood. In some respects, it might have been better if we had waited when bestowing Ashen's hand, but it is done. And the Nordors, in this case, need us more than we need them. Not so with the Sea-Rovers."
Marcala sniffed. "We? Need Sea-Rovers? Nonsense."
"Rendel has no fighting navy," Ysa said. "We have not had a great need for one heretofore, and our ships have been reserved for trade. But there are things that even you, my Queen of Spies, do not know. There is danger waiting behind the clouds to the North, and if we can delay it by sending the Sea-Rovers against it, so much the better. They have fought it before, and some of them lived thereafter. Snolli told me as much."
Marcala bowed her head. "Forgive me, Madame. I fear that I am so concerned about my lord Harous and where his affections will settle, that I forgot about almost everything else. But you must admit, that episode with Gaurin and Ashen was suspicious."
"Only to those who noticed, and who know about such things," Ysa replied. "I think that you and I are the only ones." Yet, she had to admit that Marcala was right. There had been a tension in the air between those two, and it was not something one would ordinarily sense with a bride and a wedding guest. One might almost think Gaurin a suitor who had come to claim his own and, too late, had found her bestowed upon another.
Ysa sat very still, thinking, and rubbing the Great Rings on her forefingers and thumbs. Marcala had been correct; those two had behaved more like newlyweds than had Ashen with Obern. Therefore, some spark must have ignited between them. But how best to use this knowledge?
For a moment she toyed with the idea of setting aside the marriage between Ashen and Obern, and substituting Gaurin as Ashen's husband instead. Then she discarded the notion. It was as it was, and she had spoken truly; Rendel needed the Sea-Rovers more than they needed the Nordors. At least for the time being.
Let nothing presently be disturbed. And who knew what the future might bring?
The Dowager spoke, letting instinct guide her. "Put aside any thought of marrying Count Harous," she said.
Marcala's face reflected her dismay. "Madame. Perhaps you think me unworthy of him. But I assure you, I am of noble blood, on my father's side at least. And I have heard that the other lady"— she put an emphasis on the word—"has taken ill and died."
Ysa knew precisely what her Queen of Spies was telling her. She controlled the expression on her face with an effort. So the real Marcala of Valvager was no more and this one need fear no discovery of her pretense. Her Queen of Spies had a long reach, and if she hadn't done it personally, there were plenty of those who would kill if they were paid. Ysa decided to soften her statement. "This putting aside thoughts of marriage is temporary, of course. And anyway, take heart. A mistress always has much more influence than does a mere wife. You should know that."
"I do, Madame, but still—"
"I know. I know. Only be guided by me in this matter. How could I send you hither and yon, bringing me information that only my Queen of Spies could learn, if you were tied to Harous's hearth? No, believe me, your destiny is not marriage. Not yet."
To Ysa's relief, the other did not seem inclined to argue. She lowered her eyes, and curtsied deeply. "I will accept what you tell me, my Queen," she said. "For
I know that someday, when the time is right, I will be well paid for all my efforts."
'To be sure," Ysa said, repressing a shiver at the scarcely concealed threat.
"Well paid indeed."
Obern proposed leaving Rendelsham immediately, to go to New Void Keep. "That is the home of your ancestors," he told Ashen, "and so you should live there. Not here, in this rat's nest of courtiers and spies and ambassadors and nobles."
Ashen's heart lurched. For a moment, she thought Obern was referring to Gaurin, that somebody had told him of what they had seen between her and the Nordor, at the party following the wedding. But there was not a trace of dissembling in
Obern's manner. He had merely been listing aspects of Court life that he had found burdensome. As did she.
"Yes," she said. "I long to be out of this place as well." That she would be trading one stone cage for another was a fact she had to accept. That she would be going where she could not hope to catch a glimpse of Gaurin even at a distance, she must think of as being for the good. Obern was her husband, and it was to him that she owed her faith, her trust, and her loyalty. Yes, far better that she be a great distance from everything and every place where something might remind her of the man with the honey-colored hair, who made her heart pound in her throat with just a glance across the length of Rendelsham Castle's
Great Hall. Sternly she told herself that Gaurin must never be a part of her life, and so she must banish him for his good, as much as for hers.
If only she could order her dreams with equal discipline. Nightly she roamed hand in hand with Gaurin through unfamiliar landscapes, the two of them lost in the wonder of each other, speaking of matters she never remembered later. When morning came, and with it reality, she had to smother the impulse to leave her husband's bed and run to the man she truly, and without the shame she should have felt, loved.
"How soon shall we leave?" she asked Obem. "Could it be this week?"
"I see you are as sick of this place as I am," he said. "Yes, this week if you want it so. Set Ayfare to packing our belongings, and I will go and arrange for a wagon to carry them."
Ashen willingly fell to, helping Ayfare with the packing. She would be accompanying them, of course, as would Lathrom and a few of his men who chose to throw their lot with their former sergeant and the Sea-Rovers.
When it came time to take her leave of King Florian, the Dowager Queen, and others of the royal Court, Ashen could not help but notice that neither the King nor his mother seemed particularly distraught at the prospect of her departure.
Not that she had expected anything less, of course. Actually, she was grateful that Florian did not throw obstacles in her way just for the perverse pleasure of thwarting her wishes. He was fully capable of such mischief for the sport of doing it.
"Be assured that your quarters here at the royal residence will always be waiting you, should you decide to return for a visit," the Dowager told her. Her face was as expressionless as the facade of a shuttered house, and Ashen could not divine what Ysa was thinking.
Florian was simply indifferent, though his new Queen, Rannore, grasped Ashen's hands warmly. "I wish we could have had time to become friends," she said.
"Well, perhaps you will come back often."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Ashen said, curtseying the way she had been taught. "Know that I will ever be your friend, if you want me."
"And so it is settled." Rannore pressed her cheek to Ashen's. "Friends we are, for always."
Both Harous and Marcala wished her a formal farewell, and Harous kissed her hand. "Remember always your ancient motto," he told her, indicating the necklace he had given her and which she now wore openly. " 'Without fire, there is no
Ash.' And without Ashen, much of the fire will be gone from the Court."
She dismissed this as just so much meaningless compliment, but it was Lord
Royance who presented her with the hardest part of leave-taking.
"I have come to have a great interest in you, Lady Ashen of Ash, and now Lady of the Sea-Rovers," he told her. "You and that daring husband of yours both. May you not be strangers from the Court for too long."
"We will meet again, and as often as I can arrange it," Ashen said. Then, giving in to a daring impulse, she kissed the silver-haired nobleman on his cheek. He smiled at her in return and, remarkably, there was not even a touch of frost in it.
Then she and Obern were off, with an entourage smaller than what her rank might entitle her to, but more than enough to suit her. She tried to ride side by side with Obem except that he had a way of putting himself about half a length ahead of her. Once, she tried to catch up, but he deliberately galloped ahead. Lathrom and his men rode guard. Snolli and his followers had already departed weeks before, and the dust from their horses' hoofprints long since settled. The soldiers drew lots for who got to drive the carriage, for that was where Ayfare rode with the trunks and boxes, and every soldier vied for her attention.
Though Bog-men still occasionally made their raids and forays into lands across the Barrier River, the travelers were not disturbed during the time they were on the road. Perhaps the sight of Lath-rotn's well-armed soldiers caused any would-be robber or raider to turn aside from anything beyond the thought. The sight of a bride-groom traveling with his new bride caused other people on the road to smile openly, and sometimes to wish them well.
Ashen was interested in the countryside through which they journeyed. The road wound through low hills and when they reached a fork that led from the east,
Obern informed her that they were now traveling through what had once been Ash lands.
"We crossed the River Rendel close by Cragden Keep, and we will cross it again close by where it empties into the Sea. When we reach that point, we will be able to see the towers of New Void, that once was the Ashenkeep."
"Then we will live close to the Sea?"
"Aye, and too close to the Bog for my comfort. When first we came here, the devils stayed behind the Barrier River. Now we're just as likely to meet 'em in the field where we're trying to grow wheat for the winter, as if we'd gone hunting them."
"Perhaps I can get word to the Bog-men, and they will leave off their attacks against you. Against us."
He shrugged. "It is a good thought, but, I fear, impractical. If you ventured into the Bog they would be just as likely to try to steal you as—as someone else was." He laughed. "But for a different reason."
Her heart lurched, and she thought of Gaurin. Then she realized Obern was referring to her half-brother. She smiled at him though he didn't return it. "We are seeing more and more land that is growing a late crop," she said. "The coverings you told of seem to be effective. Perhaps the coming winter will not be as hard on the people as you have feared."
"We were afraid, at first, that the land itself rejected us. But the unseasonable chill has, for the moment, eased a little."
True enough, they were coming upon fields full of crops of new green plants already nearly knee-high even without the shelter of the tentlike coverings, as if the land were trying to make up for lost time. Also, the air was warm enough that Ashen had put aside her fur-lined garments, and wore a light mantle over her riding clothes. "Let us hope it stays so."
Is there, she thought, nothing more between us to talk of than the weather and crops? The things he murmured in her ear in the night, when all were supposedly asleep, were not to be repeated in the light of day, of course. But where had this coolness come from? What had happened to the days when they had been together and never knew the lack
of subjects to discuss? Did he behave lovingly toward her only when he was seeking love for himself?
Gaurin—
No! Firmly, she put that thought aside. She must forget him. Gaurin must be as one dead to her. Her life lay ahead, at the end of this road, in New Void Keep.
With Obern. Her husband.
The first days at New Void Keep were a blur to Ashen. She was given one entire tower for her residence, and there was much fussing and running back and forth and moving her goods in and stowing them to Ayfare's satisfaction. The arrangement of the furniture did not suit the maid and all had to be placed here, and then there, while Ashen fled the disarray until all had been put to rights.
Somewhat to her dismay, Ashen discovered that Obern was not expected to spend each night with her if he chose to be elsewhere. "It is the way of the
