by Jo Walton
“So you feel vindicated?” Sebeth asked.
“It’s very strange,” he said. “In a way I don’t at all, because we didn’t go through with the case and have a proper jury verdict or anything like that. I never meant Daverak to die, though if I’d known how he’d been abusing Haner I would have wanted him to. She’s going to live with Selendra and Sher now.”
“I’m glad you had a sustaining feast,” Sebeth said. “You’re going to need it.”
“Why?” Avan’s eyes whirled in concern. “Do you need me to fight anyone?”
“I may,” she said. “But first, listen, there’s something I didn’t tell you.”
“Lots of things, but that’s our agreement, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Avan said, gently.
“I do now. You remember what I told you about my Eminent father?”
“How could anyone forget?” Avan shook his head. “It’s one of the saddest stories I’ve ever heard.”
“He’s dead.”
“We can’t go and claim your share,” Avan said, picturing huge Eminent brothers and cousins. “I know it’s unfair, but it just won’t be possible.”
“Not that. Listen. I want to tell you something. I went to see him yesterday, that’s where I was. And most of the other times when you didn’t know where I was, I was in church.”
“In church?” Avan blinked.
“Not your church.” She twisted her fingers nervously. “In a church of the Old Believers. I’m an Old Believer, a True Believer.”
Avan could think of absolutely nothing to say to that. “I never quite believed about your other lovers,” he said after a moment. “It didn’t seem quite real.”
“I haven’t had any other lovers since I’ve been with you,” she said. “But how do you feel about the Old Religion?”
“I don’t know.” He frowned. “My brother would turn blue, but he doesn’t know about you anyway, not more than that you exist. I’m not a very religious dragon really, Sebeth. I suppose I ought to mind, but in fact it doesn’t bother me much if that’s what you want and it makes you happy. I’ve never tried to interfere in your life, you know that.”
“I know.” She looked uncharacteristically hesitant. “The thing is, my father was a True Believer too.”
“An Eminent True Believer?” Avan’s eyes whirled.
“In secret. I’ll keep it secret too, at least at first, and probably always, unless things change. Blessed Calien, that’s my priest, says I should. But it’s important that I bring up any dragonets in the True Church, so I had to ask how you felt.”
“Dragonets?” As far as Avan knew, Sebeth was assiduous about avoiding all the foods that could bring her into readiness to produce a clutch. It couldn’t be a mistake. “I wish I could marry you and have dragonets, but be sensible, we couldn’t possibly afford it. Or has your father left you something?”
“My father, Eminent Telstie, has made me his heir,” she said.
“His heir?” Avan couldn’t believe it for a moment. “You’ll be an Eminence, like Kest was calling you.”
“Kest had no idea,” she said, and laughed. “He had no idea how much it hurt, when it was almost true.”
“That’s amazing,” Avan said, amazed.
“So,” Sebeth said, and her voice held none of its usual teasing quality. “I’ll be an Eminent, but I’ll need a husband, and I was wondering . . . You’d have to change your name. I can find someone else if you don’t want to. There’s my awful cousin, or there would probably be lots of dragons willing.”
Avan’s jaw had dropped open. “I can’t quite believe this is real,” he said. “Oh well, if it’s a dream it’s a very good one. Sebeth, when you didn’t come home I was thinking how much more I’d come to care for you than I ever intended. I was afraid I’d never see you again. I couldn’t marry you when it would reduce our status to nothing, there would have been no point. I was thinking that maybe one day we could manage it, or maybe if your father had left you some gold I might be able to take Agornin back from Daverak’s cousin Vrimid and take you there. I’m bigger than I was, and I’ll have the reputation of winning this case, and I have friends in Irieth. But now you’re offering me wealth and position beyond my wildest dreams, but it’s you offering it to me, not me offering it to you. I’ve never taken care of you as a maiden should be taken care of, or a wife either, you’ve been my clerk, my lover, I don’t know that I can accept a position at your hands like this, even when I care so much for you.”
“Was that yes or no?” Sebeth asked, tensed as if to spring.
“I don’t know,” Avan said. “If I asked you to give up Telstie, to come to Agornin and marry me there?”
She hesitated. “I promised my father,” she said. “I never wanted to be protected, not by you. We were partners, that’s what I told my father. That’s what I’d want now, not to be a wife like a thing, to be owned by you, I want to go on being your partner, to make my own decisions.”
“It’s almost as if I’d be your wife,” Avan said, hesitant.
“Why not? Partnership. Two wives sounds as if it would work better than two husbands. Oh come on, Avan, don’t you want to be Eminent Telstie and be rich and have fun?” She smiled at him, her eyes teasing again, and he reached out for her.
“Is that what you’re offering?” he asked, and she bit his lip gently. “Then I accept,” he said. “It’s very strange, but I do accept, the beautiful maiden, half the country, the title—there is no higher title than Eminent anymore.”
“What shall we do now?” Sebeth asked, looking up from inside his arms. “Traditionally, this is where I should blush, but I am pink already.”
And there we will quietly draw a veil over Avan’s next proposal.
61. THE SISTERS REMEMBER THEIR VOW
Exalt Benandi was silent when Selendra returned from the Court clutched against Sher’s side, pink. Her eyes whirled slowly, and she pressed her lips together. Sher was wounded in several places, but radiant.
Amer and Felin helped Haner to her room. “I want to speak to Selendra,” Haner said. “I’m feeling much better than I thought I ever would again.” There was certainly more liveliness in her coloring than there had been.
“That’s the wonder of dragonflesh,” Amer said, knowingly, who had never tasted a bite of it. She helped her mistress settle on the gold. “You’ll mend. It’s just as well, for I’d never have forgiven myself letting you go off there alone if he’d killed you.”
“You couldn’t have done anything,” Haner said, tears welling in her eyes. “He ate Lamith because she tried to protect me. Just ate her. He’d have done the same with you, faster if anything, because you’re older.”
“He was a disgrace to his order,” Felin put in.
“The position of servants is a disgrace to the order of dragons,” Haner said, hotly.
“You should rest,” Felin said, kindly.
“I can’t rest until I’ve spoken to Selendra,” Haner said.
Amer and Felin exchanged a glance, and Amer gave a tiny nod. “I’ll fetch Selendra, and then you really should settle yourself. You’ve had enough excitement for one day,” Felin said.
“You said something about the position of servants in a letter to ’Spec Sel,” Amer said, speculatively.
“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot. It isn’t only Daverak, though it was Daverak’s cruelty that made me see it. The whole thing is wrong. Binding wings is wrong.”
“It was the Yarges who started binding wings,” Amer said, turning her face away.
“And we should have stopped it when we got rid of them,” Haner said, forcefully.
Selendra came in, pink. In truth, pink suited her far less well than her maidenly gold. No doubt in time she would change to a red against which her violet eyes would again seem striking. For the present, although it is necessary to describe all brides as beautiful, it is best to say that Sher certainly found her more beautiful than any sight he had ever
beheld. She was so pink, and so conscious of her state of blush, that no further description of her is required.
“What is it?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
Haner looked at Amer. “I’ll go if you don’t want me,” Amer said.
“It isn’t that at all. You know all our secrets,” Haner said, and managed to laugh. “We’ll talk later.”
“You’re looking better,” Selendra said, examining her sister anxiously.
“I’m feeling better,” Haner said. “My felicitations, Selendra. I just wanted to ask, I suppose you’ve promised Sher the whole sixteen thousand crowns?”
“You can live with us, Haner, Sher says he’d be glad to have you,” Selendra assured her sister.
Haner hesitated. “I’ll be glad to live with you, only, we did say we’d not get betrothed without the other’s approval, and that you didn’t want to marry at all.”
“You did,” Amer said.
“I hadn’t forgotten,” Selendra agreed. “It was all part of my plan, when I thought I’d be gold forever. He’d asked me, and I loved him so much, and I didn’t change. I thought I’d been unlucky with Amer’s numbers. But look! I was wrong. I just turned pink in the court, so easily.”
“Why did you betroth yourself to him if you thought you couldn’t change?” Haner asked.
“Oh, it was to do with his mother,” Selendra said. “I suppose she’ll hate me forever now and glower at me every time we meet. But it’s too late to change now, even if I could.” A terrible thought struck her. “Haner—surely you approve Sher?”
“He seems a very fine dragon,” Haner said. “I can see it’s too late for you to change your mind now! I wouldn’t want to make you think about it, and I’m sure I hope you’ll be very happy.” A tear rolled down her snout. “It’s just that I have half engaged myself to marry Dignified Londaver. You remember? I told him sixteen thousand, but I expect you’ve promised it all to Sher? Anyway, I thought I’d see how things were with the dowry.”
“If it’s only the money that concerns you, I am rich now,” Selendra said, remembering. “Wontas and Gerin and Sher and I found some treasure in the mountains. Sher insists that a quarter of that is mine outright. How much do you need to marry Londaver? I can dower you, what fun!”
Selendra laughed, and Haner wept a little, because it was such a surprise and because she had been expecting disappointment and had found something so much the opposite. “I will write to Londaver, now, immediately,” she said.
“You should rest,” Amer said.
“And the dragonets want to see you. The Daverak dragonets, that is. Well, Gerin and Wontas would like to see you as well, but the little Daveraks are frightened without you. Sher and I brought them here, but they don’t really know us.”
“Put them with our dragonets,” Amer advised. “That’ll do them more good than anything.”
“I must see them and comfort them, even if only for a moment,” Haner said, sitting up a little. “I do feel much better. I will see them, then they can play with your dragonets and I shall write to dear Londaver telling him to come to Irieth as fast as his wings will bring him.
62. EMINENT TELSTIE’S BALL
“I think it’s complete nonsense and should be done away with,” the Exalt said. “Is my emerald straight, Felin?”
They were waiting on the steps of Telstie House, in the Southwest Quarter, to be received by the new Eminence and her betrothed, the presumed new Eminent.
“It’s straight,” Felin said, putting a hand to her own headgear. Wontas had insisted that she wear the golden circlet he had found in the cave, and she had found a milliner who could hastily make up a hat for it to fit onto, with black and white fleece and dark green ribbons. She had been afraid the Exalt would disapprove, until she saw the look in Penn’s eyes when she put it on, and then she did not care any longer what the Exalt thought.
“When Sher became Exalted he just went to the Assembly the next time there was a session and took his father’s place. I dare say a few dragons congratulated him, and we did have a little party, but there was none of this waiting.”
“Eminents are different,” Penn said, consolingly. “We will get inside soon. We’re next.”
“Nobody even knows who she is,” the Exalt complained.
“She is the daughter of the late Eminent,” Felin said. “What is a mystery is where she has been all this time.”
“I don’t expect we will ever know,” Penn said. “It’ll be a shock to Gelener’s family.”
“A terrible blow,” the Exalt agreed.
“Is it true that Gelener is to marry Frelt?” Penn asked, unable to keep a slight distaste out of his voice.
“I believe so,” the Exalt said. “I don’t know what her parents can be thinking.”
“Perhaps she loves him?” Felin suggested.
“That block of ice?” the Exalt snorted. “And speaking of ice, I am turning to ice myself. I wish they’d let us in. I am not accustomed to being kept standing about in the snow.”
Sher and Selendra had gone ahead with Haner and Londaver, leaving Penn and Felin to escort the Exalt. They were presumably inside already, Felin thought, enviously. The delay was because each dragon, or pair of dragons, was being separately announced and introduced to the new Eminence.
Just then a team of drafters drew up at the bottom of the steps, a carriage behind them with a strange crest. A murmur ran through the waiting crowd of dragons, followed by an anxious whispering.
“A Yarge!”
“The Yarge ambassador, doubtless,” Penn said. “I was saying, with Eminents and Eminences it is different. The Yarges believe that if we were ever to choose a new Majestic it would be from among the Eminents, and thus they meet each new Eminent to give their approval.”
“Or otherwise?” Felin asked.
“I don’t know that they have ever withheld approval. The whole thing is nonsense, as the Exalt said. For one thing, we’ll never choose a new Majestic, the idea is preposterous after so long. For another, if we did, we wouldn’t look exclusively among the Eminents, any gently born dragon would be eligible.”
Felin looked curiously at the carriage, which was enclosed by wood. “Why do they care if we have a Majestic anyway?”
“Oh, they have Majestics of their own, in all of their little realms, and they think a country without a Majestic cannot make war on them.”
“But there have been wars along the borders always. My father was killed in one,” Felin protested.
Part of the wood of the carriage moved, and Felin realized it was a door. The Exalt shuddered so hard that Felin felt it and turned to her. “Can I help?”
“I’ve never liked them,” the Exalt said, very quietly. “They killed the Exalted Marshal my husband. They are loathsome.”
“The ambassador—” Penn began in a soothing tone when the door at the top of the steps opened.
“Next,” the servant said.
“It’s you, Exalt,” Felin said.
“You go, I shall wait here for a moment. I feel a little faint.”
Felin would have argued, but Penn took her arm and drew her forward. Felin gave their names to the servant. They were whirled into a glittering ballroom full of splendid dragons and announced: “Blessed Penn Agornin and Blest Felin Agornin, of Benandi Parsonage.”
“I feel a bit of a fraud keeping my parsonage when I should have lost it. I still don’t know if I should have confessed everything anyway,” Penn whispered.
“The gods have punished you enough, continuing to punish yourself for it is wrong,” Felin replied, making it as strong as she could.
Then they stepped forward and bowed to the new Eminence, who bowed back neatly. She was pink and bridal, very beautiful, Felin thought, with a well-shaped tail. She wore a veil and a little coronet. The dragon at her side, the future Eminent Telstie, stepped forward and embraced Penn. “Avan!” Penn said in a strangled tone. The Eminence whooped with very uneminent laughter.
“
We’ve already been through all this with Haner and Selendra,” Avan said. “I did want to tell you, but Sebeth thought it would be more fun not to. Meet my betrothed wife, Sebeth, Eminence Telstie.”
Outside, the Exalt had bowed her head a little, to avoid having to look at the Yarge Ambassador. It was not just that they had killed her husband and that they were the ancestral enemy. It was some deeper loathing that moved in her, something beneath the skin, maybe some ancestral hatred of dragon for Yarge. She waited, breathing cold air and recovering herself. The shock was great when she looked up because some quality in the silence around her changed. She realized at once that the other dragons on the steps must have made way for him, for the Yarge was beside her before the door.
He was utterly abhorrent to her. He stood scarcely six feet high and had no length at all, barely a foot; he was essentially flat. He wore a decent fleece hat, as anyone might, and he had covered most of his body likewise with cloth and jewels. He had hands like a maiden, but his skin was soft and smooth, entirely without scales. He looked weak and unarmored and defenseless, yet beside him the strongest dragon was as weak as a maiden. At his side hung the tube of a gun, with the like of which his kind had once overpowered dragonkind.
He bowed, almost folding himself in half and the Exalt shuddered again.
“I am M’haarg, the Jh’oarg Ambassador,” he said, as he straightened.
The vile creature could hardly pronounce the name of his own species, the Exalt noted. “Exalt Zile Benandi,” she managed to gasp in response.
The door opened. “Next,” the servant said, sounding bored.
“Shall we?” the Yarge asked. He waited for the Exalt to move. She had to move. She was almost paralyzed with disgust. She managed to take a step and then another. He stayed beside her. He gave both their names to the servant.
