Vatar put his arm around Avaza, who seemed happy for once. “I’m glad you came, Father.”
Father grinned and shook his head. “I wouldn’t have missed it, son. I haven’t had nearly enough time to spend with you.”
Chapter 30: Evenings Out
Vatar shook the rain off before stepping into the Temple room. He was glad to see that someone had built a fire in the fireplace to take the chill off the evening.
“How are things at home?” Cestus asked. “Better? Avaza seemed pleased at your master’s ceremony anyway.”
Vatar shrugged. “A little. At least she’s not still complaining about that lightning-blasted dress. But she’s still moody. Something’s bothering her, but she won’t tell me what. So there’s not much I can do to help her.”
Cestus shrugged. “Women get that way sometimes. Lancera certainly does. So, I guess this means there’ll be time for another chess game or two tonight.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Good. I’ll let Father know. He wants a chance to play against you, too.”
Later in the evening, Vatar placed his hand on his horseman. Perhaps it was his Dardani upbringing that made him favor this piece, but he had a tendency to lead with it.
Father put his hand out to block the move. “Don’t make that move, Vatar.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m enjoying our talk. I don’t want to finish the game, yet. And that move will end it. You’ll expose your commander.”
Vatar looked at the board. Father was right. He moved one of his towers, instead, shielding his commander.
Father nodded approval. “I’m going to miss these evenings with you when you go back to the plains.”
“Maybe not,” Vatar said, studying the board.
Father huffed. “It’s not up to you to say what I’ll miss.”
Vatar chuckled as he made his move. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve been offered an opportunity to come back next year and work with the blade master. And the master swordsmith, too. I want to talk to Pa about it, but that’d be very valuable experience for the Dardani. About half the work is on one kind of blade or another—arrowheads, knives, or spearheads. No swords, though. After making the spears for the tiger hunt, I’d really like to learn more of that aspect of the craft.” Of course, Avaza probably won’t like the idea. Vatar clenched his jaw. Avaza didn’t seem to like much of anything in Caere. Well, she was free to choose not to return with him. That might be better all around.
Father sat back and raised his wine goblet. “Well, then. Here’s to learning to make blades.”
In the corner, Cestus started up a new melody on the harp. Vatar started to hum along with the unfamiliar tune.
Cestus paused at the end of that tune. “After hearing you at work at your forge, I’d never have guessed you could sing, Vatar. You actually have quite a pleasant voice. Do you play any instruments?”
Vatar studied the board and moved one of his walkers. “I’ve played reed pipes from time to time. Not for a while, though.”
Cestus placed his hands along the strings to stop their vibration. “Like a flute? I might have to find one so we can play together some time. Harp and flute sound good together.”
Vatar cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know how much reed pipes are like the flutes I’ve seen here.”
Cestus smiled. “Well, if that doesn’t work out, I can always just write out the lyrics so you can sing along.”
~
After five games of chess with his father, Vatar walked home through the quiet and mostly empty streets of Caere. It gave him a chance to reflect on some of the things that had happened recently. No. Once he thought about it, he was sure Avaza would not like the idea of coming back to Caere for another year. Well, that was the wisdom of the Dardani custom of year mates over the way things were done here in the city. When they got back to Zeda, they could just part ways and no one the worse for it. Avaza wouldn’t have any trouble finding another year mate who’d suit her better. The cold, hard truth was that they just didn’t want the same things. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Just one of those things the system of year mates was designed to let them find out about each other.
The thought cheered him. Just a few more months. He’d do his best, work harder to make her as happy as possible in that time. He owed her that. Anyway, things were just better generally for him, too, when Avaza was happy. Then they could part as friends this summer.
Arriving home late, he took one look at Avaza’s face and sighed heavily. What now? Well, he’d just resolved to try to make her happier. Maybe if he paid her a compliment or made her laugh. It was impossible to miss the way her tunic hugged her curves—more now even than it had when they arrived.
He forced a smile. “Caere agrees with you in one way, at least. You’ve put on a little weight in all the right places. I thought your curves were alluring before, but now . . .” He trailed off. Wrong thing to say, obviously. Avaza looked like she was going to cry.
She crossed her arms. “Where were you all evening?”
“You know I have lessons with Cestus every Seconday evening,” Vatar said.
Avaza tossed her head. “They never used to last this long.”
Vatar shrugged. “Well, Father has been coming by after our lessons are over. We play chess. It never bothered you before.” He tried to hug her, but she slapped his hands away.
“That’s your answer for everything. And look where that’s led.”
Vatar took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m pregnant,” she answered.
All the breath went out of Vatar’s body. “Oh.” Because she seemed to expect him to say something more, he added, “That’s wonderful.” He was pretty sure he didn’t sound convincing. He certainly didn’t convince himself.
It was hard to sound convincing when his world had just been turned upside down. This room had never felt small and suffocating before. Suddenly, it felt like a trap. Trapped. He clenched his jaw to keep from saying the words that flowed through his mind. The whole idea of being year mates is to prevent exactly this. Babies aren’t supposed to happen until both partners are ready. Ready was the last thing he felt just then.
He stiffened his shoulders. Ready or not, it had happened and he’d carry out his duty—whatever it cost him. He knew his responsibilities—even if he hadn’t expected them quite this soon. At the same time, Vatar saw his chance to study with the blade master and the sword master evaporate even as he looked at Avaza’s face. She certainly wouldn’t want to come back here next year. Part of him acknowledged that she was trapped, too. Just . . . maybe right now wasn’t the best time to try to talk about it—or argue about it—as she so clearly wanted to do.
He fumbled for the handle of the door behind him. He needed a drink. Or maybe several. “Excuse me. I . . . I just remembered something I need to take care of. Uh . . . It may take awhile. Don’t wait up.”
~
A seven-day later, Vatar was glad to go to his lesson with Cestus. It was his one really good excuse for making himself scarce in the evenings. At least tonight he wouldn’t have to confine himself to one-word answers in order to prevent—or, at best, delay—the inevitable squabble with Avaza. As often as she started a quarrel, he was starting to think it was the one thing she enjoyed anymore.
“You look even more unhappy than usual,” Cestus observed. “I take it Avaza’s mood hasn’t improved.”
Vatar slumped down into one of the chairs. “Worse. She’s pregnant.”
“Oh. Well that does tend to happen in marriages, you know.”
Vatar slammed his fist on the table. “It’s not supposed to happen between year mates. Not until the couple has been together for two winters and declared themselves life mates. I know Boreala explained about urulu weed. Avaza couldn’t manage even that much on her own. Now . . .”
Cestus poured wine into a cup and pushed it across to Vatar. “Don’t worry, Vata
r. Pregnant women do get moody sometimes. Lancera and I had some difficulties when she was pregnant the first time. But since Jana was born our relationship has only gotten stronger and better.” He paused. “In some ways, I envy you.”
Vatar snorted. Nothing about this situation seemed enviable to him.
“No, Vatar, I’m serious. I’ve seen how the Dardani live. You’ll always know that your children will have the freedom to be and do whatever they choose. Not like among the Fasallon, where everything depends on how much Talent you have. If it weren’t for Father—and my success with you—I probably wouldn’t even be allowed to teach the youngest children their letters and numbers.” Cestus shook his head. “I was glad our first child was a daughter. Jana’ll be all right, with a High Councilor for a grandfather. It’ll be harder for Arus, when he grows up, if he proves not to have any more Talent than I do.” He looked back at Vatar and smiled. “At least the second pregnancy wasn’t so hard on Lancera. Things do get better.”
Vatar couldn’t think of an answer for that, so he just took another gulp of wine.
Cestus’s eyes narrowed as he watched him. “How will this change your plans?”
Vatar sighed. “I don’t know yet. I want to continue my work with the blade master, but I can’t imagine Avaza wanting to come back here.” He tossed back the last swallow of wine. “On the other hand, I can’t imagine myself wanting to spend a winter penned up in a small hut with Avaza, either.”
~
Vatar tiptoed into his apprentice quarters, hoping Avaza was already asleep. Her temper hadn’t improved as the winter—and her pregnancy—advanced. He drew a deep breath. No such luck.
Avaza screeched at him. “Where are you all the time? You’re never here. You can’t stand to look at me anymore, can you?”
Vatar held out his hands in a pleading gesture. “It’s not that. You’re beautiful. At least, you are when you’re not angry. But you’re angry so much of the time, now. And there’s nothing I can do to help you.” Or make you happy. Ever. I used to be able to, but not anymore.
Avaza’s frown eased slightly. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where were you this evening?”
“I was seeing to the preparations for our return to Zeda. Are you sure you want to leave so soon. It’d be safer to wait for Pa and Arcas to come for the trading and go back with them.” And then our baby would likely be born here, with Boreala to take care of things like she did with Mother. He didn’t think it’d be a good idea to say that, though. The number of things it wasn’t safe to say had grown to a mountain, lately.
Avaza threw up her arms. “No! I can’t wait to get away from here and back to Zeda!” She placed her hand over her swelling belly. “And I don’t want my baby born here. It can’t be soon enough to suit me.”
“All right, Avaza. All right. I was just concerned for you.”
Sky above and earth below! It couldn’t come too soon for him, either. Maybe Avaza wouldn’t be so hard to get along with when she was back home in more familiar surroundings. Maybe things would go back to normal after the baby was born. Maybe horses would learn how to fly.
Chapter 31: Break Up
Vatar had everything ready for an early departure before he left for his final “lesson” with Cestus. Over Avaza’s protests, he’d arranged their departure for third day, so that he could have one more visit with Father and Cestus.
He was a little surprised, but very pleased, to find that Boreala had joined them and Father had arranged a small, private farewell party for him. His heart constricted a little at the thought of saying goodbye. He hadn’t known any of them much longer than Avaza, but these three were more his family than Avaza would ever be.
Father echoed his thoughts. “Will you be coming back to us next winter?”
Vatar sighed. “I really don’t know. I want to. It’s a great opportunity—for me and for the Dardani. But Avaza certainly won’t want to come back.” He snorted. “That wouldn’t bother me, but with the baby . . . I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”
Boreala placed her hand on his arm. “Avaza may feel differently after the baby comes. It’s been hard on her to be in a strange place during her pregnancy.”
Hard on me, too. But his newly-developed sensitivity to saying the wrong thing kept Vatar from voicing that thought. “I hope so.” He forced a smile. This wasn’t goodbye forever, after all. “I’ll certainly be able to come back with Pa when he comes to trade.” He did a quick mental calculation about when Boreala had said the baby would be due. “Maybe not this year, but next year for sure.”
Father stepped closer. “Vatar, I’ve never mentioned this to you before because . . . well, frankly, I’ve thought that you were safer not knowing as long as you were in the city. And now there’s no time to train you.”
From the corner of his eye, Vatar saw Cestus shaking his head violently.
“What is it, Father?”
Cestus blew out his breath. “It’s something most of the Fasallon can do, Vatar. It’s not . . . I don’t think it’s anything you’d call magic.”
Vatar swallowed and took a step back. Magic?
“It’s certainly not anything to be afraid of,” Cestus hastily added. “I don’t think even Father could hurt anyone with it. It . . . just lets us talk to each other over distances. Well, most of us. My range doesn’t extend much beyond the Temple grounds.”
Vatar tried to force his rigid muscles to relax. “I don’t have any magic!”
Father took a step forward, palms out. “Actually, son, I’m sure you do.”
Cestus stepped between them. “I think we should change the subject. Vatar and I agreed not to discuss magic when we first started our lessons. His people—the Dardani—have some . . . negative views on the subject.”
Father lowered his arms to his sides and stepped back. A flash of disappointment crossed his face. “All right, then. If the subject makes you uncomfortable, we’ll say no more about it.” He picked up a goblet of wine. “Here’s to your return to us for however brief a time next summer.”
~
Vatar suppressed a sigh of frustration as he reined his horse to a stop again. They’d already been riding across the plains for three days. Riding alone or with Pa, he’d have been at Zeda already. Sky above and earth below! It only took four days to move a herd between Zeda and Caere, but he estimated they were only about half-way to the summer village. At this rate, it’d take another three or four days to get home.
He dismounted and walked around to help Avaza to the ground. He understood she was uncomfortable. It couldn’t be easy riding with a belly that made her awkward and ungainly. Boreala had even warned him that she’d need to relieve herself often because of the pressure on internal . . . things. But this was ridiculous.
Avaza hung onto him for support. “How much longer? I’m tired of riding. I want to be home.” Her voice rose to a whine on the last few words.
Vatar gritted his teeth. She asked that at just about every stop—roughly ten or twelve times a day. He’d always deflected the question with a vague answer. He was tired of that, too. Maybe a dose of truth would persuade her to move along just a little faster. “Three or four more days at this pace.”
Avaza tried to turn too fast and almost fell. “Four more days! Why are we taking the long way? It didn’t take this long to get to Caere the first time.”
Vatar grimaced as her voice rose in pitch and volume. “We didn’t stop ten times a day, either.”
“I can’t help it. You have no idea how hard it is to try to ride like this,” Avaza said, the whine returning to her voice.
Vatar let go of her elbow and stepped back, completely done with this conversation. Done with trying to accomplish the impossible task of appeasing her, too. His voice rose to match hers. “No, I don’t. And you didn’t have to either. You were supposed to be taking urulu weed so this wouldn’t happen. Just that one simple thing. That really shouldn’t have been too difficult.” It was precisely the wrong thi
ng to say and he knew it. He just didn’t care anymore.
“Well, I didn’t get this way by myself!” Avaza stalked off toward the nearest bush.
Vatar watched her go, shaking his head. Seemed she could walk under her own power when she wanted to.
Now that he thought about it, Dardani women rode in all stages of pregnancy and the only time he’d ever known a clan to be delayed in moving from one camp or village to another was once, when a woman actually went into labor. It was the other women who determined how fast and far the mother-to-be could ride safely. Seemed the other women, the clan sisters Avaza was pining for, weren’t necessarily all that sympathetic. Not as considerate as he’d been so far, anyway. Maybe it was time to push a little harder. He could stand Avaza being angry with him. He’d been dealing with that for months now. The very thought of her going into labor before they reached Zeda sent chills down his spine. That was something he knew he wasn’t ready for.
~
Vatar sighed with relief on reaching the Zeda waterhole.
As soon as he lifted her down, Avaza pushed away from him. She unhooked her bag from behind her saddle and started walking—well, waddling—towards the Raven Clan huts. “I’m going back to my own clan—where people care about me.” Abruptly she stopped and fished around at the bottom of her bag. She hurled the egg-shaped iron ball Vatar had given her at his head. “And you can take that back, too!”
Vatar ducked, allowing the ball to fall harmlessly behind him. Well, that was one way to signal the end of their relationship, that Avaza no longer considered herself his year mate. He’d been willing to stick it out with her, because of the baby. Evidently that wasn’t what she wanted. Fine, then. He probably should be upset, but he couldn’t find any emotion but relief inside. He couldn’t find anything to say, either, so he turned around and started to unload the pack horses.
Pa came to help him. “I’m sorry, son.”
Vatar shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m not.”
Pa winced. “That bad, eh?”
The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) Page 17
