“Oh, dear,” Rohana struggled to sit upright, “I must go to him and explain—”
“No indeed,” Kindra said urgently, “You must keep your bed, my Lady—Rohana,” she corrected herself, “or you are likely to miscarry. And Dom Gabriel, at least if he were in his right mind, would like that even less than having the stewards refuse his orders.”
Rohana sighed and lay flat again, knowing that what Kindra said was perfectly true. Gabriel would simply have to resign himself; though always irritable for days after one of these seizures, he dreaded them enough that he might indeed heed a warning. “But tell him why I do not come to keep him company and sit by his bed,” she said.
Jaelle said “I sent the healer-woman with a message already, Aunt. And I have sent for the midwife; she will know if there is danger.”
Thus reassured, Rohana settled herself beneath the covers and lay somnolent, neither waking or sleeping all the morning. She hardly noticed the visit of the estate midwife, who examined her briefly and said she was in no immediate danger of miscarrying, but a day or two of rest could do her nothing but good; that the lady was inclined to work too hard for her own good. When she woke in the late afternoon, she found Kindra seated by her bed, her needle flashing in and out of a piece of fabric.
“What are you making? Jaelle does so little of this kind of work, I never connect it with a Free Amazon—a Renunciate.”
“I find it restful; it is a collar,” Kindra said. “I seldom have leisure to sit and do fancywork of this sort. If you like, I will make a piece of embroidery for a baby dress; then if your child is a girl—”
“Oh, no,” Rohana said, “I would like a girl well; but it is a son, and Gabriel at least will be pleased.”
“I suppose it is your laran that tells you that,” Kindra said, and Rohana looked startled.
“Why, I suppose so; I never thought of it—I cannot imagine what it would be like to be pregnant and not know whether I bore a son or daughter. Are there women who truly do not know?”
“Oh, yes,” Kindra said, “though I always was sure—but I thought perhaps it was my own fancy—at least I always had an even chance of being right.”
There was a muffled knock on the door, and Lady Alida came in.
“Are you feeling better, Rohana? My dear, you must not trouble yourself about anything, anything at all; I can see to everything, absolutely everything,” she said, smiling, and Kindra thought that the smile was not unlike a plump kitten who had fallen into the cream jar.
“I am sure of it,” Rohana murmured.
“But there are a few things which must be settled at once,” Alida said, “Kyril must be sent away immediately; this hostility against his father is very bad for both of them. He should go to Nevarsin; he needs discipline and some learning. It is not good for him to be here when you and Gabriel are at odds; he is almost a grown man.”
“I suggested this a year ago. but Gabriel would not agree,” Rohana said, and Alida smiled her cat-smile.
“Then perhaps there was some good in this morning’s altercation; Gabriel will be glad to have him out of the house, I think. And there is something else; I monitored the girl Tessa; and it is indeed Kyril’s child she is carrying.” Her face took on an edge of fastidious distaste. “Will you really keep her under this roof?”
“What choice have I? If the child is an Ardais—even a nedestro has the right to shelter beneath his father’s roof,” Rohana said.
Alida grimaced. “I have seldom so resented the monitor’s Oath,” she said. “I was tempted to tell the girl she was lying—she wasn’t, of course—and throw her out. I admit I don’t have your charity, Rohana.”
“I am not displeased at the thought of even a nedestro grandson,” Rohana said, but Alida shook her head.
“Only a girl. I am sorry if that is not what you wanted.”
“A granddaughter I will welcome, if she is healthy and strong,” Rohana said. “At home she might be ill-treated, starved, or abused. Make arrangements, Alida: find her a room of her own and someone to look after her, and mind you, don’t stint her of anything because Kyril will not be here to see. Anything else?”
“Yes.” Alida had been moving about the room, now she came and sat down in a small upright chair. “Rohana, did you know that Rian is a full wide-open telepath, two-way, and probably a full empath as well? Gods alone know where he got it—it’s not an Ardais trait.”
“Oh, I am not sure of that,” Rohana said. “Before he became so ill, Gabriel had a good touch of empathy; it was what I loved best in him.” She paused to consider. “So Rian has it? No wonder he is torn so—”
“Between sympathy for you and for his father,” Alida said bluntly, “the strife is tearing him to pieces. He should be in a Tower.”
“I had hoped for a year or two of education for him in Nevarsin first—” Rohana protested.
“By no means,” said Alida firmly. “He is too sensitive and scrupulous; he would heed every word they tell him. Surely you know that most boys hear only a little of what their elders say—Kyril has never heeded anything he is told—but Rian would take every word to his heart and dwell all his life a prisoner of cristoforo scruples. No, Rohana; the only safe place for him is a Tower, and I have already been in the relays; Arilinn will take him. Don’t worry; they will educate him as well there as at Nevarsin, be sure of that.”
I suppose I should be grateful, Rohana thought, for Alida has spared no trouble for my sons, but her officiousness infuriates me; she really wants all things in her own hands. She is positively gloating that while I lie here ill, she has arranged everything as well or better than I could have done.
But she attempted to barricade her thoughts from Alida and to thank her graciously.
“You have arranged everything so well, sister-in-law, that now I will have all my children gone from me—except for Elorie, and she is betrothed—I shall be an idle old woman.”
“Idle? You?” Kindra protested. “And you have still Valentine and Jaelle.”
“Jaelle makes no secret of it that she is eager to be gone,” Rohana said.
Alida said, “That cannot be allowed. She must take her mother’s place in a Tower; I am sure we could find one that would be glad to have her.”
Rohana said “Have you ever seen any sign that she has enough laran for that? I think she would be miserable in a Tower.”
Alida said crossly, “You know as well as I that she is blocking her laran; and you know why. You told me the story of her mother’s death, when Valentine was born. She is not the first young girl whose laran was shocked open by a rapport she could not avoid and was not mature enough to endure—a traumatic birth, too close at hand to be shielded, or a death of someone she loved.” Certainly, Rohana thought, that described Melora’s desert death in childbirth. Alida continued, “but she cannot avoid it forever; someday it will return in full force; and she should be trained within a tower against that day. Of course her parentage—that Dry Town father of hers—is against her—but they might be persuaded to overlook it. Certainly not at Arilinn. They are so particular about Comyn parentage, but Rian is to go there. I am sure one of the lesser Towers would have Jaelle. Margwenn at Thendara perhaps, or Leominda at Neskaya. Should I try to make such arrangements? I would be happy to try—”
“I am sure you would, Alida,” said Rohana, wearily, “but this time your skills at arranging things are not needed; I promised Jaelle that if she spent a year here, I would make no further objection if she wanted to take Oath as a Renunciate.”
Alida’s mouth fell open; her eyes, very large and blue, stared at Rohana with an unbelieving gaze. “I know you said so when she was a child,” she said, “but are you really going to hold to that? Even if she has laran?”
“I promised,” Rohana said, “and my word is good. I do not lie even to children.”
“But—” Alida looked more innocent and confused than ever, “The Council—they will not be pleased, Rohana. There are so few living Aillard wome
n.”
“I think I can persuade the Council,” Rohana said.
Alida sighed. She said, “You will soon have opportunity. They have sent word to summon Gabriel for the season, and since you still call yourself Aillard and not Ardais, and sit in Council as Aillard, it concerns you, too. But now that Jaelle is of age—and since you are pregnant—I was so sure—”
“You were so sure that you told them that Melora’s daughter would be ready to take her Council seat this season, did you not, Alida,” Rohana said softly. “Well, you will just have to tell them you were lying or fantasizing, will you not?”
Alida’s blue eyes flamed with indignation.
“Lying? How dare you? How could I imagine that you would allow Melora’s daughter to elude her duty by such an unlawful commitment?”
“Not unlawful,” Rohana said. “The Charter of the Renunciates allows that any freeborn woman may seek Oath among them. It is true there have been times when I thought Comyn daughters were born less free than any small-holder’s child; I had never thought you would agree with me, sister-in-law.”
“You are making a fool of me, Rohana!”
“No, my dear, you are doing that admirably for yourself. When you informed Council that Melora’s daughter was ready for Council, you made a commitment you had no right to make and meddled in something which was really none of your business. I did not bid you speak of this to the Council, and you will simply have to get out of your own lies for yourself.” Rohana lay back against her pillow and closed her eyes; but Kindra felt that behind the carefully impassive face Rohana was smiling.
“Rohana,” implored Alida, “You cannot do this, the Council will not allow it.”
Rohana sat up sharply. “Do you really think they can stop me?”
“Surely there is some other way—”
“Oh, yes, certainly,” Rohana said wearily, “I could petition to take the Oath myself.”
Alida cried out “You would not! You are joking!”
“Not a bit of it,” Rohana said, “but it is true, I probably would not. But to get freedom for Jaelle, I might well tell the Council how unfit a guardian Gabriel is for any young girl; I might well testify to how he has humiliated and insulted me before my whole household, and petition to dissolve my marriage, to have him confined as a lunatic, and to forfeit his Council position and his place as Head and Warden of Ardais. If Kyril were not worse than his father, I would certainly do so.”
“Oh, Rohana!” Alida was sobbing now, “For the honor of the Comyn—this would be a scandal to the Seven Domains—you would not drag the honor of Ardais in the mud so, would you?”
“I am tired of hearing you babble about the honor of Ardais,” Rohana said, “What have you done to preserve it? It suits you well to have Gabriel incompetent to manage his own affairs while it means that you can manage them with no chance he will be able to forbid you. Did it occur to you that if Gabriel goes on much longer like this, he will drink himself to death or cause a scandal we cannot keep safe inside these walls? He is my husband, and I loved him once; for his own good he should be subject to someone who can restrain him from killing himself once and for all. I cannot.”
“Do you think I want him to die?” Alida asked.
“You are certainly doing nothing to prevent it, and it seems to me that you are fighting all I can do to prevent it,” Rohana said. “Can’t you admit, Alida, that I am doing the best for the Domain and even for Gabriel? As much as you dislike me—”
“Please don’t say that,” Alida interrupted. “I don’t dislike you; I admire and respect you—”
Rohana sighed and closed her eyes. She said without trying to answer Alida, “The representatives from Council, are they here?”
“They are awaiting audience with Gabriel—or with you if he cannot meet with them.”
Rohana said wearily, “Perhaps they had better see him, so they will not think I am merely trying to avoid—”
Alida protested, “But such a disgrace for them actually to see him like this!”
“I did not bid him drink himself into a stupor or excite himself into a seizure,” Rohana said. “They must see him, Alida, or they will believe—as I think Kyril believes—that I am trying to take over the rule of the Domain for my own purposes. Send for the hall-steward.”
Still protesting, Alida went, and Kindra, who had stood silently in the shadow of the bed-curtains, advanced to her side and said, “Are you able to deal with all this, Rohana?”
“It must be dealt with one way or another,” said Rohana, “and there is none to do it if I do not. But you should not be—no one should be subjected to my family.”
Kindra said, “You should not be subjected to your family,” and felt a wave of tenderness for Rohana. If I could only safeguard her against all this aggravation.
Rohana lay silent with her eyes closed, hoarding her strength. After a considerable time, there was a soft rap on the door, and Rohana sat up, saying, “Let them in; I must speak with them.”
Three young men came into the room and bowed low to Rohana. All three bore proudly the flaming red heads of Comyn; the leader bowed to Lady Rohana and said, “My lady of Ardais, I am sorry for the illness of your lord; it is all too obvious that he will not be fit to attend Council this season. Will you, as usual, take his Council seat?”
“As you can see, this year I cannot,” said Lady Rohana, “My health will forbid it for this season. If my child is born healthy and strong, I might come toward the end of the season.”
“What, then, of your ward—the daughter of Melora Aillard?” asked the young man. “May we speak with her and ask if she is ready to be sworn to Council as Heir to Aillard?”
“That you must arrange with Jaelle herself,” said Rohana, and when they had gone away, she sent again for Jaelle, who came sullenly to her.
“Jaelle, the representatives of Council are here; you must go South with them to Comyn Council and tell them for yourself that you renounce your rights, through Melora, to Comyn Council.”
Jaelle protested “You promised me that I could take Oath—”
“And so you shall, if that is what you wish,” Rohana said, “but I cannot renounce your rights for you; you must do that for yourself.”
“But how—”
“They will ask you to present yourself before the Council, and they will ask you if you are ready to take your place in Council.” Kindra said, “And then you must answer ‘No.’ That is all there is to it.” She added “If you are old enough to swear Oath as a Renunciate, you are old enough to renounce Council privilege.”
“But what do I do then?”
“Whatever you wish,” said Kindra. “If you choose, you can go at once to the Guild House and await my coming to take Oath if you will.”
Jaelle said sulkily, “I had thought we would go south together.”
“Well, we cannot,” Kindra said curtly. “For the moment at least, my duty lies here, and yours in Thendara, at Council.”
“Oh, very well,” Jaelle said angrily. “If it means more to you than coming to witness me take the Oath.” She slammed out of the room angrily, and Rohana heard her talking in the hall to the young men sent from Council.
“Will she ever forgive me, Kindra?”
“Oh, certainly, there is nothing wrong with her but that she is sixteen years old,” Kindra said. “She is angrier now with me than with you. Give her a year or two. It would be even less than a year if she were involved in the running of a Domain, but even so, she will forgive you. She will even forgive me my loyalty to you. Someday.”
Only one more confrontation remained for the day; at sunset, Kyril asked admission to the room and came in quietly, kissing his mother’s hand in a respectful manner.
“I am sorry to see you sick, Mother. When he heard, Father was eager to get up and attend you, but his steward would not let him out of bed.”
“I am glad there is a sensible man to look after him,” Rohana said. “What do you want, Kyril? Surely y
ou did not come to wish me health.”
“Why should you think not, Mother? You have worn yourself out caring for my father’s responsibilities; why do you not let him look after his own—”
“This again, Kyril?”
“You are making my father a nonentity and a laughingstock before all of the Domains.”
“No, my dear, the gods did that. I save him the pressure of decisions he is unfit to carry, and I try to keep his honor intact before others.” After a moment she said, “Would it be better if the crops went unplanted, the stud-books unkept, the resin-tree harvest ungathered? Are you able to take over that work? I would gladly yield all this to you if you could handle it.”
“You mock my ignorance, Mother? That was not my doing either. Now perhaps, if I am to go to Nevarsin, I may learn to manage such things.”
“The gods grant it, Kyril,” she said. He knelt for her blessing. She gave it fervently, laying her hands on his curly head.
Then he rose and stared down at her, frowning. “Is it true what Jaelle says—that she is to become a Free Amazon?”
“The laws allow it for any freeborn woman, Kyril. It is her choice.”
“Then that is a vicious law and should not be allowed,” Kyril said. “She should marry, if anyone can be found who would overlook her parentage.”
“This saves us the trouble of finding some such husband for her,” Rohana said. “Leave it, Kyril; there is nothing you can do about it.”
Kyril said angrily “I tried—” and broke off; but it was obvious to Rohana what he meant. A deep blush spread over his face.
She said scathingly, “And you tried to make her see what she might be missing if she refused marriage? You cannot forgive her that she did not fall directly into your arms? For shame, Kyril; this was a breach of hospitality—she is my fosterling. You should have respected her, under this roof, as your own sister! But she goes south to Thendara tonight, so no harm is done.” After a moment she said, “Kyril, we part tonight; you go to Nevarsin; let us at least part without hostility. Wish me well, and go to say farewell to your father in peace.”
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