Maara brushed the snow off the trunk of a fallen tree and sat down on it. She made room for me, and I sat down beside her. I wondered how she felt about her confrontation with Vintel. She was gazing at the river. She didn’t seem to be at all upset.
“Soon our warriors will return from the ravine,” she said.
“What?”
“Look. The river has begun to freeze.”
I stared at her in amazement. How could she be thinking about the river? Had she forgotten about Vintel?
“Aren’t you angry?”
She turned and looked at me. “No. Why should I be?”
“Vintel insulted you.”
“Did she?”
“She called you a thief.” My heart burned with the injustice of it.
“Yes,” Maara said. “I suppose she did.” She drew her legs up onto the log and turned until she sat cross-legged, facing me. She gave me a long look. “You’re angry.”
“Of course I am.”
“Why?”
How could she fail to understand something so obvious?
“Because Vintel insulted you. And she insulted me.”
I turned away from her as I blinked back tears.
“What did she say to you?”
“She said I was small.”
“You are small.” Her reply took me aback. “Why were you insulted by the truth?”
“It was the way she said it,” I told her. “It was meant to be an insult. And she called me a thief, too.”
“Are you a thief?”
“No.”
“So you felt insulted by something that was true and by something that was not true.”
“I suppose so.” I didn’t understand what she was getting at.
“Why do you care about Vintel’s opinion?”
“I don’t!” I said. “I don’t care what she thinks!”
“Of course you do. Why else would you be angry?”
I couldn’t think of a good answer.
“Shall I tell you why?” she said.
I nodded.
“Because you didn’t know you had a choice.”
“What choice?”
“To be angry or not.”
It was the silliest thing I’d ever heard. “That’s not a choice.”
“Yes,” she said. “It is.” She waited patiently for me to understand.
“How could that be a choice? When someone insults me, it makes me angry.”
“If that’s true, then your feelings will always be at the mercy of others.”
That had never occurred to me.
“Oh,” I said.
In Maara’s face I saw no sign of anger.
“Did you choose not to be angry at Vintel?”
“I didn’t think about it. I was too busy trying to keep something bad from happening.”
“Is that how you kept from being angry?”
“No,” she said. “I wasn’t angry. It took me a long time to learn that I didn’t have to feel what someone wanted me to feel, but once I learned it, it became a habit. It’s a useful habit. Because I wasn’t angry, I was able to think clearly about what was the best thing to do.”
She saw that I was still confused.
“Think,” she said. “A short time ago we were in a difficult situation, one that could have turned out very badly. Now we’re safe and sound sitting here by the river. What happened to bring that about?”
“Lorin showed up.”
“Think back a little further.”
Then I knew, and the memory of her words to Vintel chilled me.
“You challenged her,” I said.
“No,” she said. “Vintel challenged me. She put her hand on her sword, and I tried to convince her that she was doing what I wanted her to do.”
“Didn’t you want her to draw her sword?”
“No,” she said. “That was the last thing I wanted.”
I was confused again.
“Vintel wanted to make me feel fear or shame or anger,” Maara said. “It would have been a victory for her. Instead she allowed herself to be goaded into anger, and her anger made her do something foolish. She knew it was foolish, but she didn’t know she had a choice.”
“What if she had drawn her sword?”
“She didn’t.”
“But what if Lorin hadn’t come along?”
“She would have found another way not to fight.”
“But what if she couldn’t do that?” I insisted. “What if she had made you fight her?”
“Then I would have called on my anger, and I would have defended myself until someone stopped us.”
“I thought it was wrong to be angry.”
“No,” she said. “Not wrong. I would have used my anger to give me the strength and the courage I needed. Vintel couldn’t control her anger, and because of that, it would have been useless to her, just as your anger was useless to you, because it blinded you to what you needed to do to get out of a bad situation.”
I thought about why I had resisted Vintel.
“No,” I said. “I knew what I should do, but my anger kept me from doing it.”
“What was that?”
“I should have given her the brooch. That would have satisfied her pride. Then she would have been able to forget that I refused her, and she would have left me alone.”
“Why didn’t you give it to her?”
“She made me angry.”
Maara’s face grew thoughtful. “You may have used your anger well after all.”
I waited for her to explain.
“Vintel thought you would be so afraid of her that you wouldn’t give her any trouble,” she said. “Instead you showed her that she would have to make good on any threats she made to you. You forced her to respect you.”
“Respect me?” I said. “She was about to take the brooch away from me and punish me for stealing it.”
“She might have taken the brooch, but I don’t think she would have done you any harm.”
I remembered the look in Vintel’s eyes, and even as I sat there, safe beside my warrior, I felt an icy shiver slide down my spine. “I’m not so sure about that. I think she was looking forward to it.”
“I imagine she was looking forward to making you feel how powerful she is. She might have caused you pain, but she wouldn’t have caused you harm. There’s a difference.”
Suddenly she chuckled.
“I doubt Vintel would have found it satisfying.”
“Why not?”
“She could have forced your body, but your spirit would never have submitted to her.”
I heard in Maara’s voice that she was proud of me, and I felt a glow around my heart.
The sun was well up by now, but it was hidden behind masses of dark clouds. The wind gusted stronger and scattered rain around us.
“We should go back,” she said.
We started up the hill. Although we tried to hurry, we had to fight against the wind. By the time we reached the hilltop, we were breathless. Before we went inside the earthworks, Maara stopped and turned to me.
“Stay out of Vintel’s way if you can,” she said, “but don’t make it obvious that you’re avoiding her, and don’t show any fear of her.”
I nodded.
“And don’t go anywhere alone for a while.”
Then I suspected that Vintel had been waiting for an opportunity to confront me. She may have seen me go outside that morning and followed me. But how had Maara known about it?
“How did you know I was in trouble?” I asked her.
“I knew,” she said.
After breakfast I found Sparrow alone in the companions’ loft and told her about my encounter with Vintel.
“Eramet gave me that brooch,” she said. “I didn’t take it from her things. She gave it to me, along with an old cloak of hers. It belonged to me. It was mine to give.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I told her, “but I wanted you to know what happened. I don’t want to be the cause of troub
le between you and Vintel.”
“What in the world could have gotten into her? I’ve never known her to do anything like that before.”
“She’s angry,” I said. “She spoke too soon about my becoming her apprentice. Maybe she feels a little foolish.”
That I had chosen Maara, someone Vintel regarded both as a person of no importance and as an adversary, must have made my refusal of her even more humiliating. I didn’t know if anyone had told Sparrow how my warrior had come to be wounded or of Vintel’s part in it. I had no intention of telling her myself. It wasn’t my story to tell, though sometimes I was tempted. If Sparrow was going to be Vintel’s apprentice, she should know the worst about her. On the other hand, Sparrow had little choice but to accept whoever was willing to take her or risk being sent home. What good would it do to spoil her opinion of someone to whom she might owe her loyalty?
Sparrow didn’t question my explanation. “Your warrior showed up just in time?”
I nodded.
“And challenged Vintel?”
“Yes.”
She grinned a wicked grin. “I would have liked to see that.”
Sparrow was cleaning the armor of a warrior whose companion was ill. She had been trying to make herself useful, especially to the warriors who had not yet chosen an apprentice, although we both knew that her best chance was still with Vintel. For a time I watched her work, and the things Maara had said to me that morning came back into my mind.
“What kinds of things did Eramet teach you?” I asked Sparrow.
She shrugged. “All the usual things, I suppose.”
“Did she teach you about anger?”
“Anger?” She thought for a minute. “Eramet never said anything about anger, as far as I can remember.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Why?”
“Maara says that anger is a choice.”
Sparrow laughed. “I hope she teaches you more useful things than that.”
From the companions’ loft I had a good view of the great hall. Maara had been sitting with several of the other warriors before the hearth. When preparations began for the midday meal, she got up and headed toward the stairs. I got up too and went to meet her, in case she needed me. She asked me to find something for us to eat and bring it to her room. In the kitchen I found stew simmering in a cauldron. I took a bowlful for each of us and half a loaf of bread and went back upstairs.
When I handed Maara her bowl, I said, “Are we hiding from Vintel?”
She laughed. “Not exactly.”
Maara finished first and set her bowl aside. My eyes had been bigger than my stomach, and I’d taken more than I could eat. I offered her what was left of mine. She smiled at me and took the bowl.
“I’ll never be hungry again,” she said, “as long as you’re around.”
Her words both pleased and pained me. In a teasing way, she was thanking me for taking care of her, but her words cast a dark shadow. I heard in them that she had been hungry in a way I’d never been, and I was sorry it was so.
My face must have shown her what I was feeling.
“What’s troubling you?” she asked.
I shrugged, reluctant to tell her the truth. No one wants to hear that she inspires pity.
“Are you still worried about Vintel?”
I nodded, glad that she had provided me with another answer to her question. In truth, several things still puzzled me.
“Do you truly believe I was right to resist her?”
“What do you think would have happened if you’d given in?”
“I thought that if I made a gesture to satisfy her pride, she would stop being angry with me.”
“Most people would be satisfied with such a gesture,” Maara said, “but I think that to Vintel it would have been a sign of weakness.” She propped her elbows on her knees, rested her chin on her hands, and gazed at me. “What if I had handed her your brooch and promised to punish you for stealing it? That ought to have satisfied her pride.”
The thought horrified me. I couldn’t imagine her doing such a thing. It would have hurt my trust in her, no matter her intentions. She saw in my face what I thought of the idea.
“If I had given her the brooch,” she said, “the gesture would have been more than just a sign of weakness to Vintel. It would truly have weakened us, because to you it would have been a betrayal.”
I nodded that I understood.
“And if you had given her the brooch,” she said, “the gesture would have weakened you, because that would also have been a betrayal. It would have been a betrayal of yourself. I think that’s what your anger was telling you. Sometimes the ability to make such a gesture is a sign of strength and making it can make you stronger. But not this time.”
I wondered then why she hadn’t questioned me about the brooch.
“Why didn’t you ask me where I got it?”
“I didn’t need to,” she replied. “I knew you didn’t steal it, and Vintel would have enjoyed watching me question you about it. Instead I showed her that I would defend you, whether or not you’d done something wrong. She knew I hadn’t given you the brooch. She knew I had no idea how you came by it. Now she knows I’ll stand by you. And now you know it too.”
“I never doubted it,” I said.
Maara smiled. “Looking back on it, I think we’ve done well today.”
I had a different opinion.
“It seems to me that things have gone from bad to worse,” I said. “Now Vintel is our enemy. Now she has another grievance against us.”
“Vintel has always been my enemy. At least now her hatred is out in the open.”
“But why does she hate you for something she did? She owes you an apology for what she did.”
“Vintel hates me for who I am,” she said. “What she did came from her hatred. But what she did was wrong, and she believes she’ll lose face if she admits it. She’s right. It’s too late now to admit to what she did. Now she has to live with it, and the sight of me can only remind her of her own cowardice.”
Maara’s words frightened me. She was telling me that Merin’s house would be dangerous for her as long as Vintel was in it. It had never occurred to me that I might be endangering her by keeping her with me. I felt I had been very selfish.
“The Lady was right,” I said. “I should have let you go.”
For the first time that day my warrior was angry with me. “Have I no will of my own?”
“Of course you do, but I never thought about how dangerous this place still is for you.”
“All the world is dangerous for me,” she said. “At least here I have a friend or two.”
That made me feel a little better, but there was something I needed to hear her say. “Will you tell me again that this is what you wanted?”
She sighed. “If I do, will you never ask me again?”
I nodded.
“I regret nothing,” she said. “And I hope you never have cause to regret your choice.”
“What have I to regret? I have what I wanted.”
“Today you stood with me against Vintel. She won’t forget it. Vintel is something you will have to learn to live with.”
An idea came to me. “Maybe I should put the brooch away, so that it won’t be a reminder to Vintel.”
Maara shook her head. “If you put it away, it will seem as if you’re trying to hide it from her, as if you are truly guilty of the theft.” She thought for a moment. “I have a better idea.”
She got up, took her heavy cloak from its peg, and put it on.
“Give me the brooch,” she said.
I took it from my belt and gave it to her, and she used it to fasten her cloak. It looked handsome against the dark green cloth.
“Put on something warm,” she said. “We’re going outside.”
Wind-blown rain rattled against the shutter.
“Outside?”
“Yes,” she said.
I put on a heavy tunic, and Maara handed
me an old hood of hers to put over my head.
“We’re going to have to get you some winter clothes,” she said.
We went downstairs and out through the great hall. Although it was only midafternoon, it was almost dark outside. Black clouds loomed over us, and the cold rain stung our faces. Once we were outdoors, I meant to ask her what she had in mind, but the wind blew my words away.
I followed Maara through the maze of earthworks and down the hill. The wind blew right through the fabric of my trousers. By the time we reached the river, my legs were numb. We took shelter by a tree whose bare branches couldn’t stop the rain, though the trunk broke the wind a bit.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“This is far enough. We can go back now.”
“What are we doing?”
“We’re getting wet,” she said. “Now we’re going to go back to sit beside the fire and dry off. And we’re going to give everyone an opportunity to admire your brooch.”
“What about Vintel?”
“She’ll either challenge my right to it or she won’t. I doubt Vintel wants to take the matter any further, and she certainly doesn’t want to do it in public. But if she doesn’t challenge me, she will have missed her chance. Once people have seen me wearing it, they will remember the brooch as mine.”
We returned to the house and sat for the rest of the afternoon beside the hearth. Maara kept her cloak on. Even after it was dry and she began to be too warm, she only tossed it back over her shoulder, so that the brooch stayed in its place.
When people admired it, she told them it belonged to me.
Vintel came into the great hall for the evening meal. She saw us sitting by the hearth, and she could not have failed to see the brooch, but she ignored us, and she never said another word about it.
19. Jealousy
During the night the storm turned into a blizzard that lasted for a week. There was little else for the people of Merin’s house to do but huddle around the hearth in the great hall. The only thing that relieved our boredom was an occasional spat caused by our being so weary of one another’s company.
Maara didn’t like sitting in the crowded hall, but her room was too cold for anything but sleeping. The wind drove the snow in through the cracks in the shutter, and when we awoke in the mornings, our hair was stiff with frost. She would find us an inconspicuous place at the back of the hall, where we could have some peace and quiet.
When Women Were Warriors Book I Page 18
