Thekila held her breath. She really shouldn’t eavesdrop on a healer and her patient, but she wanted to know how Vatar would answer. Maybe he’d tell his sister whatever it was he’d been holding back from her.
Vatar rubbed at his hand. “Thekila wants to have a baby.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Boreala asked. “I thought you loved children.”
Vatar shrugged. “I do. But . . .”
“But what?”
Vatar hunched his shoulders. “Boreala, she’s so small! What if something happened to her?”
Boreala snorted softly. “Vatar, women no bigger than Thekila have children all the time.”
Vatar clasped his hands between his knees. “Mother almost died four times and she’s bigger than Thekila.”
Thekila drew in a sharp breath. She hadn’t known about that. Lucina seemed so healthy. Wait, four times. There were only Vatar, Kiara, and baby Fenar.
Boreala shook her head. “Is that what worries you, Vatar? Lucina has a particular illness which makes pregnancy very dangerous for her.”
“Mother’s never sick!”
Boreala shrugged. “Not unless she’s pregnant. Then she’s very sick. But, soon after the pregnancy ends, she’s well again. It’s the pregnancy that’s dangerous for her, not the birth.”
Vatar sat back and shook his head violently. “She almost bled to death giving birth to Fenar.”
“Yes,” Boreala said. “But if I hadn’t given her something to bring on her labor, she would have bled to death within a day or two anyway—probably before she gave birth and they both would have died. Vatar, what happened to Lucina has nothing to do with Thekila. It’s very unlikely that she’ll have the same kind of problem your mother does. It’s not particularly common. And, even if she did, as long as she’s here in Caere there are things I can do to help.”
Vatar hunched forward, staring at the ground between his feet.
Thekila had to strain to hear what Boreala said next. “Vatar, the one thing I’ve wanted most in my life is a family and child of my own. That’s the one thing that has been denied me. Do you know how that feels?”
He looked up, frowning. “In a small way.”
“Do you want to do that to Thekila?”
Vatar dropped his head. “No, of course not.”
“Then why?”
Vatar swallowed and leaned back to look up into the apple tree, as if the answers were to be found there. “Because I’m frightened. I think it scares me more than I’ve ever been. More than the tiger hunt. More than my Ordeal. I can’t tell her that. I can’t tell her she chose a coward. But I can’t lose her. She’s so small! What if . . . I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to her. I couldn’t be the cause of it. It would destroy me.”
Boreala let out her breath in a long sigh. “You’re not a coward because you fear for the woman you love, Vatar.”
Thekila drew in her breath in outrage. Well, of course he wasn’t. Why would he ever think that she would believe that about him? It was actually endearing that he was so worried about her. Thekila stepped out of the doorway back into the courtyard. “My mother wasn’t any bigger than I am. And she had two children.”
Vatar jumped and then met her eyes. “And you told me she died giving birth to Theklan.”
Thekila took several steps closer. “That’s not why she died. Mother and Father were bound to each other. She died because half her heart and half her soul had died with him. The Healers were actually surprised that she lived long enough to give birth.”
“Bound?” Boreala asked.
Thekila shrugged. “It can happen with people like us. It’s common among the Valson to join our minds at the same time that we join our bodies. Over time, the barriers between you dissolve, until there is no boundary left. Or some people, like my parents, choose it, bind themselves willingly. That can be even more powerful. Mother would never have survived Father’s death. That’s what killed her, not giving birth.”
Boreala shook her head. “Vatar, Thekila is small, but not too small for this. Trust me. This is something I know much more about than you. And I promise I will be there to help her through the birth.”
Vatar turned back to search Boreala’s face. “Like Mother?”
Boreala smiled. “If necessary. But I don’t think Thekila will need that kind of help. I think she’ll be just fine.”
Vatar drew a deep breath. “It still scares me, Thekila, but if it’s what you really want. . .” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Thekila, you said your parents chose to bind themselves?”
She came forward to sit beside him, on the other side from Boreala. “Yes.”
Vatar captured her hand. “Then we could choose it, too.”
Thekila gasped and her free hand leapt to her throat. He couldn’t be serious. Could he? “Vatar! You don’t know what kind of a commitment that is!”
Vatar squeezed her hand. “You’ve just explained that it killed your mother.”
She shook her head helplessly. “It’s more than that. It’s a total lowering of barriers. . .”
“More than when we make love?” Vatar asked.
“No, not more than that,” Thekila said. “Not really. But all the time. Even when we’re not . . . together. And once it’s done, it cannot be undone by any Power we know. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”
Vatar nodded. “A bound couple . . . do they share their strength with each other, too?”
“They share everything.”
“Vatar, men don’t have that kind of strength,” Boreala said.
Vatar turned back to Boreala. “There’s more than one kind of strength. There’s pure stubbornness, the unwillingness to give in, the will to live.”
Thekila blinked. So that’s where he was going with this seemingly random jump in the conversation. “Vatar, we don’t have to bind ourselves in order to have a child. My parents weren’t bound when I was born. That happened later.”
He squeezed her hand again. “But I could share whatever strength I have with you, if we were bound. I could help you.”
“It’s not necessary,” Thekila said.
Vatar drew a deep breath. “It might be for me. At least . . . I’m sure it would make it easier for me. Thekila, it’s the helplessness that makes it so frightening—at least partly. If I felt I could help, even a little, it wouldn’t be so bad. I’m sure I’d still worry, but I wouldn’t be helpless, like Father was when Fenar was born. You’ve no idea how hard that was for him, what it did to him—or how hard it would be for me. I’d be able to do something.”
Thekila took his hand in both of hers. So that was it. He was afraid for her and more afraid because he felt helpless. Not a feeling Vatar was used to or comfortable with. Well, at least now that it was out in the open they could talk about it. “It’s too important to do just for that reason alone. You still don’t understand all that it means.”
“If it’s happening anyway, I don’t see why we shouldn’t just choose it,” Vatar said.
“Vatar, sometimes you take my breath away. And not just in there,” she nodded towards their bedroom. “Do you never look before you leap in headfirst?”
Vatar chuckled. “Only if it’s water. And never if it involves you.”
She laughed, too, a little shakily. “All right, we’ll discuss it. If we decide to do this, I’ll ask Quetza to hold our oath. Theklan is too young.”
Vatar nodded. “There’s time. We won’t decide today.”
Thekila looked up into his eyes. There was one more thing she needed to say. Something she needed to make clear to him so they didn’t have this kind of misunderstanding again. “Vatar, if there’s one thing I know you’re not, it’s a coward. The man who risked himself to save me from that bear could not be a coward. And I’m very glad that that man loves me as much as you do. Don’t be afraid that I’ll think less of you for that.” Then she reached up and kissed him.
Vatar pulled Thekila close. After a moment, he br
oke off the kiss and turned to Boreala. “So . . . how’s Elaria doing?”
“Physically, she’s fine,” Boreala said. “The baby wasn’t in the correct position, but I was able to turn it. That was uncomfortable for her, naturally, even when done with Talent. Plus, she’s a little . . . agitated.”
Vatar grimaced. “Because of us. Because of me.” He grasped Thekila’s hand tighter. “Should we . . . find another place to live?”
Boreala shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Though I wouldn’t do a Transformation in front of her just now. I think it’s as much that she’s afraid of the coming birth as anything else—which is normal at this stage.” She smiled. “After all, she has no objection to my Talent. I took pains to mention that, when the time comes, I’ll be able to get here more quickly because you’ll be able to contact me through your Talent. Maybe, when she has a chance to think that over, she’ll begin to appreciate the advantages.”
“I’d settle for her not scurrying out of the room whenever one of us comes in.” Vatar sighed. “Or for Arcas to just talk to me. He’s like a brother—or he used to be.”
Thekila leaned closer, laying her head on his shoulder. She’d known that Vatar was hurt by the—hopefully temporary—estrangement, but she hadn’t realized how important Arcas was to him. She should have. “It’ll be that way again.”
Vatar put his arms around her. “I hope so.”
Chapter 20: Defense
At the sound of marching feet outside, Vatar pushed back from the breakfast table. He stood up and headed for the door, followed by Orleus and Quetza. Everyone else trailed behind. They stepped out onto the wide porch in time to see a full squad of the Temple Guard parade past. Theklan hid behind one of the supporting posts at the sight.
“That’s odd,” Vatar said. “The Temple Guard don’t usually come up this far in squads like that. I wonder why.”
Orleus’s lips thinned. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it had to do with you. Just a little reminder. Nothing that would break their word to you.”
Vatar looked back over his shoulder at Arcas hovering by Elaria’s elbow. Elaria’s eyes were wide. Sky above and earth below! She—and Arcas—would never relax and accept his magic this way. His eyes shifted to the other side of the porch, where Theklan was clearly trying to make himself as small as possible behind the shelter of the pillar. His eyes narrowed. “The Council—”
“Oh, I doubt it was the Council,” Orleus said. “Or not all of it. More likely my mother or one of her cronies.”
Vatar stiffened, but then he glanced toward Theklan and forced his tone to be light. “Well, as long as they stay in the road, they’re nothing to do with us.” He smiled at Thekila and clapped Theklan on the shoulder as he passed on his way to his forge.
Orleus followed him.
Vatar shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done about it, Orleus. As you said, they haven’t broken their pledge.”
Orleus shrugged. “I just wanted to check on those blades you’ve been making for me.”
“They’re coming along well.” Vatar pulled out the completed knives, spear points, and arrowheads. “I’ve got a few still to make. And the knives don’t have hafts yet.”
Orleus turned a knife blade over in his hands. “I’ve never seen finer blades and points than yours.” He paused and looked up at Vatar. “Can you make swords?”
Vatar blinked. “Swords? I know how, but . . .”
“But?”
Vatar shrugged. “Swords take much longer to make. It’s a very precise and lengthy process. Wouldn’t you rather go to the master sword smith?”
Orleus laughed. “That’s a first. A Caerean trying to turn down business. Don’t let Arcas hear you.” He set the knife blade down and picked up an arrowhead. “I’d far rather have you make my new sword.”
“I’ll never finish a sword before the last ship of the season sails. You’d have to come back for it next spring.” Vatar paused. “Or, I suppose we could carry it out to Zeda and you could pick it up there. It’s not as far from Tysoe as Caere.”
Orleus shrugged again. “I haven’t finished recruiting, yet. And I can train my recruits in Caere at least as well as I could in Tysoe. It’s not as if there’s a lot for the Guard to do during the winters in Tysoe. Too much snow for maneuvers. As long as I get the new recruits out by the time the snow melts, I’ll have done what I was sent to do.”
“All right,” Vatar said. “You’ll need to tell me what you like and don’t like about the sword you carry now,” Vatar said. “I have to know what kind of blade I’m making before I can even begin to form the blank.”
Orleus drew his sword from the scabbard at his hip and passed it over to Vatar. “Hmm. Well, I’d like something a little longer. Something that’s more designed for use either mounted or on foot. The common issue sword isn’t really meant for mounted battles. It’s more made to be just as useful hacking through the forest as in battle.” He shrugged. “The forest around Tysoe isn’t as thick as it was when we first settled the area and, if we’re going to be operating out in the Land between the Rivers, forests are going to be much less of an issue. That’s more open country with just some copses of trees by the rivers and scattered stands of scrubby brush and stunted trees in the low places.” Orleus grinned. “Besides, as Captain of the Guard, it’s not my job to hack a path through forest or scrub brush. That’s what the new recruits are for.”
Vatar hefted the sword, considering. “A longer blade will be heavier. There are some things I can do to offset that without weakening the blade.”
They talked the pros and cons of various blade designs for a while.
As Vatar handed his sword back to him, Orleus said. “You should make a sword for yourself, too. I’ll train you.”
Vatar’s eyes narrowed. “I like my spear. Anyway, I don’t see why I would need a sword, Orleus. It’s not a Dardani weapon. And the High Council gave their word to leave me and my family alone.”
Orleus gestured back toward the road where the Temple Guard had marched past a little while before. “It never hurts to be prepared.” He picked up the spear point Vatar had made for him and turned it over in his hand. “Maybe you’re right to stick to the weapon you’re comfortable with. Especially that spear of yours. It reminds me of Tabeus’s spear in some ways. You know, Boreala says you sang power and purpose into it.”
Vatar opened his mouth to protest. He hadn’t been aware of doing anything of the kind at the time. Even if it was true, he wouldn’t know how to repeat it. And yet, he couldn’t deny that his fondness for that spear was more than merely sentimental. There was something about that spear and the others he’d made for the tiger hunt.
Orleus closed his hand around the spear point he held. “It’s nowhere near as strong, of course, but I can feel something like that from these blades, too. It’s almost as if they whisper “protection” to me. That’s why I want you to make my new sword.” He set the spear point down. “I could still teach you a few tricks with the spear, though. From what I’ve seen, the Dardani use spears only to hunt, not to fight.”
“Oh we use them to fight, too. When we must. Usually against the Themyri.” Vatar paused. “Actually, we’re most comfortable with lances.” Vatar looked out toward the road and chewed his lip. “I’ll think about it.”
Orleus nodded. “In fact, I think it would be a good idea for all of us to take a bit of weapons training, just in case. Everyone would feel safer, I think, if they knew they could defend themselves. It’d be especially good for Theklan’s confidence. He’s going to work himself up to nightmares if we don’t give him some outlet for his fears—and a way to overcome them. I’ve trained enough raw recruits to have seen that before.”
Vatar thought back on Theklan’s tense face as he hid behind the post. “I think you’re right about that. Theklan’s a little young for a sword though. Or even a spear.”
Orleus acknowledged this with a wave of his hand. “A bit. Too young for archery or th
e javelin, too. But there’s nothing wrong with starting off with a nice quarter staff.”
Vatar sighed. “Training won’t help Elaria, though.”
Orleus acknowledged this with a nod. “It might make Arcas feel better about being able to protect her, though, if he’ll join us. And that, in turn, might help her relax.”
~
Vatar and Orleus made the proposal to all of them at the next meal. Quetza and Theklan agreed enthusiastically.
Thekila shrugged. “I think it’s a good idea. I’m just not sure even you can teach me much of use. I’ll always be so much smaller than just about anyone I might need to fight.”
Orleus studied her through narrowed eyes. “True. Size doesn’t matter much with the bow, though. I can train you as an archer. You should learn to use a dagger, too. And I can teach you a few moves that’ll help even your odds, even with your bare hands.” He grinned. “Actually, you’d have a fairly powerful advantage of surprise.”
Vatar shifted uneasily. He didn’t like the thought of Thekila ever having to fight. He should be the one to protect her. And, if it ever became necessary, he’d prefer to have her use her magic to stop any enemy at a distance. Then he thought of the three large extended families of Valson who’d chosen exile along with the three teens who’d harassed and attacked him before he reached the Valley. They’d made their enmity clear and he’d never been able to dismiss them as a threat. Thekila’s magic would be only a partial defense against them, since they had the same Powers. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for her to learn to defend herself. Hopefully, she’d make a better archer than he was. He took her hand. “Join us.”
Thekila smiled at Vatar and then turned to Orleus. “I’ll be glad to learn what I can.”
Orleus nodded. “Good. I’ll pair you with Theklan, to start. You two are the closest in size. Quetza and I already spar from time to time.” He turned to Arcas. “Arcas, you’d be the nearest in size and strength to Vatar. Won’t you join us?”
The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) Page 16
