Angelica

by Sharon Shinn

  But then he thought about it some more.

  But he ultimately chose to let it go. When Miriam wanted to communicate with him, she would. He had, in fact, gotten two scrawled letters from her, sent by some godlessly circuitous route via Jansai and Edori caravans. It was hard to tell when she had written them or how long the letters had been on the road, and he learned no real news from them. Just that she claimed to be well and happy enough. “Someday I will have much to tell you,” she concluded in one letter, and he read that a few times with a sense of foreboding. But he decided to take her at her word, and to believe that she was well and happy enough. That should be good enough for anyone.

  By that criteria, he thought with a certain unaccustomed wistfulness, how am I doing? Physically, he was well, of course; he was always healthy. But was he happy? Relations had continued to be strained between him and Susannah, though he could not put his finger on what was wrong. She always ate dinner with him, and shared his table at any other meal when he happened to be present (which was rarer and rarer these days). If he asked her a question, she responded immediately and thoughtfully; she was always gracious in conversation. But the feeling persisted that she was angry at him—or withdrawn from him—or mistrustful of him, and he did not know why, and he did not know how to ask her.

  He was pleased to see that she seemed to have wholeheartedly accepted the gifts of fabric he had purchased for her in Velora. She had made a point of modeling for him a quite beautiful gown she had had made from the apricot silk, “though it is too fine for everyday wear,” she said with a sigh. “I shall have to wear it only on special occasions.”

  The coral cotton she had made into a skirt and blouse, and these she wore several times, accenting them with a wide embroidered belt that he thought she might have made herself. The scrap of red she had worked into a quilted patchwork vest that was colorful and casual, and so she wore this most of all. And seemed pleased enough in the fabric of Gaaron’s providing.

  But she still did not seem entirely happy. Well enough, but not happy. He wondered what she would write to Miriam if she were to sit down and pen a letter to his sister.

  He had not been able to come up with the words that would enable him to ask her if anything was wrong by the time Adriel and Neri showed up, smug and pleased with themselves and entirely unwelcome.

  They were blown in by a snowy wind that had cleared the outdoor plateau quite early in the afternoon and kept everyone inside the labyrinth of the Eyrie’s corridors. The luckless souls who had signed up for harmonics shivered around a brazier set up in the open-air cupola; even their voices sounded frosty, drifting down through the star-chilled air.

  The angels arrived as the dinner hour was just ending, strolling into the dining room with their faces rouged with cold, their wings fanned out to warm their feathers. They were both laughing.

  “Gaaron! I hope you don’t mind that we’ve decided to pay you a visit,” Neri greeted him with a gaiety contrary to her usual seriousness.

  “I hope this is not a bad time for us to drop by,” Adriel added.

  Gaaron came quickly to his feet, astonished to see them, not at once understanding why they were here. “Is something wrong? Do you have news?” he asked sharply.

  Adriel shook her head. “No, all has been quiet for weeks now. Even on the southern shores. I think our unfriendly visitors are gone.”

  “We’ve come here to celebrate,” Neri added.

  “And to meet your bride,” Adriel said. “We grew tired of waiting for an invitation.”

  Now Gaaron’s face flushed as red as theirs. “You must forgive me for my rudeness,” he said, hoping that by using the word he would convey to them just what he thought of their own behavior. “Naturally I am happy to have you both here for however long you choose to stay.”

  He turned with an assumed composure to include Susannah in the conversation. Susannah had risen to her feet as soon as the women started speaking—guessing, more quickly than he had, what was afoot. She was wearing today the coral outfit and the embroidered belt, and she looked both exotic and at ease. Her hair was braided back from her face, strands of gold and orange and red plaited into the black, and her dark, smooth skin showed no hint of a blush.

  “Susannah,” he said as majestically as he could. “This is Archangel Adriel of Windy Point. A dear friend of mine and someone from whom I have learned a great deal. And this is Neri, leader of the host at Monteverde. Another good friend.”

  Susannah smiled and held out her hand. “Gaaron has spoken of both of you quite often,” she said. “We have been discussing what kind of event we should have to introduce me to all the leaders of the provinces. But I confess I am not very comfortable around crowds of strangers, so it is so much better for me to have you drop by this way.”

  Neatly said, Gaaron thought in admiration, and he could see that Neri, too, thought it a very good speech, though probably a lie. Adriel seemed more focused on Susannah’s face than her words.

  “But you’re quite lovely!” she exclaimed, putting her hands up to Susannah’s cheeks. “Gaaron spoke of your insightful mind and your strength of character, but he did not say how attractive you were.”

  Susannah, who could easily have been offended by such a remark, instead looked amused. “Perhaps he thought you would be more impressed by principles than by prettiness,” she said.

  “I don’t know. My Moshe is a thoughtful man, but I would not have married him if he was not good-looking,” Adriel said frankly, and they all laughed.

  Gaaron gestured at the table, half covered with used dishes, which some of the kitchen girls were hastily clearing away. Esther had gotten one look at the exalted company walking in the door and hurried off to take care of things. “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat? Sit down a while and tell me of your flight. And how you hatched your little plan to come calling,” he added.

  In a few minutes, the four of them were seated at the table and the new arrivals were enjoying a meal. Susannah had asked for a cup of hot tea, but Gaaron had required wine, and he was sipping that.

  “We met in Sinai and flew on together. Mahalah said she would come visit some other time,” Adriel reported.

  “I must say, she has those girls remarkably well trained,” Neri broke in. “When I go to Sudan, Isaac’s boys are running around like ill-trained mongrels. But it is very calm and peaceful at Mount Sinai.”

  “I don’t know. I find her acolytes a little silly and—giggly sometimes,” Gaaron said. He was not sure why all the women at the table laughed at him.

  “So, Susannah! Tell us a little about yourself,” Neri invited. “What do you think about life in an angel hold?”

  “It is quite pleasant,” Susannah said promptly. “I particularly admire the water rooms, which are a grand luxury when you’re used to bathing in the open river. My friend Keren—an Edori girl who is visiting me here—enjoys the benefits of the kitchen. We are used to finding and cooking all our own food, you know, which is sometimes a chore that can take all day, when there’s snow on the ground and game is scarce. And the proximity to the markets of Velora is a daily delight for both of us.”

  Neri looked fascinated, Adriel just a little repulsed. “You gathered and cooked your own food—yes, I suppose you must have,” the Archangel said in a faint voice. “I have never—but then, I suppose someone is out there slaughtering the meat I eat every day without thinking about it.”

  “You have more important things to think about,” Neri excused her.

  Susannah’s smiled widened. “Although, trust me, when you’re hungry and you’ve eaten the last of your dried meat and you can’t even find a skinny rabbit to go in the stew, you do think there aren’t many things too much more important than dinner,” she said.

  “And so you’ve always been an Edori?” Neri asked, and then her face flamed as soon as she realized what a stupid question it was. “I mean—you’ve always traveled as the Edori have?”

  Susannah nodded.
“Yes, I have friends who have chosen to settle in Luminaux or one of the river cities—because it is a hard life, you know, and when you’re older, or infirm, or simply tired, it is easier just to stay in one place. But this is the first time in my life I haven’t been on the move.”

  “That must be a relief,” Adriel said.

  Susannah looked at her. “I miss it,” she said. “I miss the intimacy of the seasons—feeling winter creep closer day by day, waking up in the morning and knowing, before I even set foot outside the tent, exactly how much sun I’ll see before night falls again. I miss being in motion, always on the lookout for something—a good campsite, a patch of berries, deer tracks so we know we can hunt for game that night. I miss the constant awareness of the world. I miss being so thirsty that when I finally come to a stream and can take a drink, the water actually tastes sweet. And I miss being so tired that I can sleep the minute I lie down, and sleep the whole night through, and not wake even when I’m disturbed by unquiet dreams.”

  She fell silent. The two women stared at her. Surely the poetry was deliberate, Gaaron thought, an antagonistic but lyrical response to the angels’ smug assumption that their lives were so much more civilized than the Edori’s. But it might also have been aimed at him. You have wondered why I have not been happy in your household. Because these are the things you have taken from me.

  Although he still had not asked her why she was not happy in his household.

  “Well. I see. I have been told the Edori are all quite passionate about their lifestyles, and now I suppose I can understand why,” Adriel said. “You speak quite beautifully.”

  “There is much more about the Edori life that is wonderful,” Susannah said calmly. “The camaraderie—the closeness of the clans—those things are impossible to describe. I have made good friends among the angels and their kin, but I have not found anything to equal the companionship I have experienced among the Edori.”

  Adriel cast a quick, troubled look at Gaaron, and he read that as a question about the relationship between the Archangel-to-be and his designated bride. As well she should question it. Certainly he had not offered Susannah much camaraderie. Although he had thought she had managed to find that on her own.

  “It always takes some time to settle in to a new place,” Adriel said, peering into Susannah’s face with her kind, worried eyes. “You have only been here a few months. Do not give up so soon on the chance to make lifelong friendships that matter deeply to you.”

  Susannah’s smile seemed a bright rejection of the Archangel’s proffered concern. “Oh, I do not intend to give up,” she said. “I have committed my life to the course the god has chosen.”

  “Yes, and that was one of the questions we had to ask you,” Neri spoke up. “When is the wedding to be? You must be married before the Gloria, you know, and that is only three months away.”

  Even more tactless than he would have expected, even from the blunt Neri, Gaaron thought. But to this challenge, as well, Susannah was more than equal. “I am so glad you are here to help advise me on that very point!” she exclaimed. “The Edori do not marry, as you may know, so I am not conversant with the customs that are required. I have not particularly wanted to ask Esther’s help, and Miriam is so extravagant I was sure I could not trust any of her suggestions. But while the two of you are here, perhaps you could give me some recommendations about what I should wear and what I am supposed to do. As for a day to choose—how much notice should we give? Who must be invited? You can help me with all those decisions.”

  Adriel gave her a doubtful look, as if unsure whether Susannah’s response was sincere, but Neri nodded briskly. “We’ll be happy to. In the morning, maybe, we can get out a calendar and make some plans. I don’t think you want to wait too much longer, but you’re right, you must give your guests a certain amount of notice. We’ll make lists for you. We can get it all in order.”

  “Well, then, if that’s settled—” Gaaron began. But before he could finish his sentence, Sela came up to the table and whispered in Susannah’s ear. Susannah nodded and rose to her feet.

  “Forgive me. There is a small girl who depends on my attentions, and it looks as if she needs me,” she said, smiling in a winning way. “If I don’t see you again this evening, I will be happy to meet with you in the morning. We’ll have a great deal to talk about then.”

  And as quickly as that, talking quietly with Sela as she left, Susannah was gone.

  “Well,” Adriel said a little blankly. “She is not at all what I expected. Though to tell the truth—I have no idea what I expected.”

  “She has a daughter? Is that what she said?” Neri demanded. “I did not think Jovah paired up Archangels with spouses who already had other children. Adriel, have you ever heard of that before?”

  “It’s not her daughter,” Gaaron said briefly. He did not bother to add that Susannah could have easily had a daughter, could have had any number of children, had had a whole life and set of lovers and a satisfactory existence before he had swooped down on her campsite to change everything. He was sure Sela had come over at some invisible signal from Susannah, to rescue her from an unendurable conversation, and he frankly was just as glad to see her go. “It is a Jansai girl who has become her responsibility.”

  “A Jansai girl!” Neri exclaimed. “Gaaron, what strange people you seem to have gathered together. What exactly has been going on at this hold?”

  So he talked to them a while longer of the events that had transpired, not going into much detail about Miriam’s troubles but giving them a brief outline so that they could draw their own conclusions. After that, talk segued easily into gossip about the angels at the other holds, and Gaaron actually began to enjoy the conversation. They talked fairly late into the evening, till the dining room was completely empty and even the workers in the kitchen had finished cleaning up the evening meal.

  “You must be tired,” Gaaron said at last. “I’m sure Esther has had your usual rooms made up while we’ve been talking. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  “No, we’ll be making bridal plans with Susannah,” Neri corrected. “But I’m sure we’ll be free by lunchtime.”

  “Maybe we’ll go down to Velora,” Adriel said.

  Gaaron nodded in a courtly way. “As the day unfolds,” he said. He walked them to the bedchambers always reserved for their use, tarried long enough to make sure Esther had really put the rooms in order, and then headed back to his own suite.

  Where he found Susannah before him, pacing up and down, and looking absolutely furious.

  “This can’t be good,” he said, and closed the door.

  She turned on him, her dark eyes snapping, her smooth cheeks flushed with more color than he had ever seen. “I am so angry, but I will start with an apology if you like, because none of this was your fault,” she burst out. “I am usually better behaved, and I know I must do everything to be civil to your friends, but Yovah love me if I can sit there meekly and hear them say insulting things about the Edori—”

  He smiled faintly. “Don’t bother apologizing to me,” he said. “I thought you handled it all magnificently. I wasn’t even sure you were angry, though once or twice I had an inkling, and Adriel suspected something was wrong.”

  “ ‘Have you always been an Edori?’ ” Susannah said, mimicking Neri’s voice. “ ‘Oh, it must be so nice for you to live here away from the savages!’ How can they say such things to me? Don’t they realize that we are all Yovah’s people, every one of us, and that he loves us all equally? And even if he did not,” she added, “we would still be good enough for her and her angel friends.”

  Gaaron could not help but laugh. This was a side of Susannah he had not seen before. “You must realize that the Edori seem exotic to us,” he said. “I did not know what to expect the first time I came to land beside an Edori campfire. That they were friendly to me, and welcomed me with great graciousness, was due more to the Edori nature than any attempts I made, and I found that a hum
bling experience.”

  “Yes, well, Adriel and Neri could stand a humbling experience or two,” Susannah fumed.

  It was so unlike her that Gaaron laughed again. “No doubt. Neri especially. Perhaps you can be very rude to them tomorrow, and that will teach them a lesson.”

  “No! I can’t!” she exclaimed in dismay. “I am quite incapable of it! Sometimes I can manage a nasty comment or two, but I always phrase it in such a delicate way that no one ever knows they have been insulted!”

  Now he laughed even harder. “Well, perhaps that is not such a bad trait to have,” he said in a placating way. “Your generosity of spirit wins you many friends. It is not so terrible to have Neri and Adriel thinking you like them. They can be powerful allies.”

  “Yes, but Gaaron, aren’t you angry?” she demanded. “For the affront was to you as much as to me. Assuming you were too doltish to pick your own bride, or at any rate a bride that was worthy of you—”

  “I was a little displeased when they showed up,” he conceded. “Although I view their motives a little differently. I think they were proving to me that I was mishandling my own courtship, that I had done you a dishonor by appearing to think you were unworthy of meeting them. And if that is the perception that really does exist, then I am the one who needs to apologize to you. For that is not what I intended, and that is not how I feel.”

  That little speech had a remarkable effect on her, seeming to calm her completely. She stopped in her pacing, and stood a little apart from him, turned half away, half toward him. Her face was furrowed in a frown. “But Gaaron, you have always treated me with the utmost courtesy,” she said. “And—well, I must confess—I have been glad that you haven’t brought a parade of people through here to come stare at me and decide if I was worthy to be your bride. I have wanted to get a little used to everybody here before I started to show myself off to strangers.”