A Journey of the Heart (33 page)

I nodded.

Maara looked relieved. She got up and turned to go.

"Wait." I stood up to follow her. "I'm going too."

Maara turned in the doorway and put her hand on my shoulder to stop me.

"No," she said. "Wait for me here."

When I started to protest, she frowned and shook her head.

"All right," I said. I put my hand over hers. "Take care."

I turned her hand over and kissed her palm. Then I let her go.

I sat down on Maara's bed. Although the news of Laris's return was more than welcome, I could hardly spare a thought for Laris. I picked up Maara's blanket and pressed it against my chest, to ease the sweet ache around my heart. Maara's scent rose up around me. I breathed it in.

I waited for my mind to make sense of what I was feeling. Of course I loved her. I had known that for a long time. But this feeling was new and unexpected. Like a child who hides in a dark corner, waiting with mischievous anticipation for someone to discover her, my love for Maara had hidden in a dark corner of my heart, and like a child, suddenly leapt out of hiding, leaving me breathless with delight.

After a time I gave up trying to understand. I lay down on Maara's bed, still warm from her body, and brought her image into my mind's eye. Only a short while ago I had watched her face lit by moonlight. I had filled my eyes with her, and now I wondered if she had seen, even before I knew it was there, my heart in my eyes.

When I woke, it was still dark. My first thought was for Maara. She should have been back by now. I got up and went downstairs to look for her. I was about to go into the kitchen when I heard muffled voices in the great hall. Two people were sitting side by side near the cold hearth. It was too dark to make out who they were. It might be Maara and Laris. I waited in the hallway, hoping to overhear a scrap of their conversation, to make sure.

Someone took me roughly by the arm and pulled me backwards. Before I could cry out, she put a hand over my nose and mouth so that I couldn't breathe. She dragged me past the kitchen door and down the narrow hallway to the armory.

I struggled, but her strength was so much greater than mine that I couldn't free myself. She shoved me through the armory door and stood blocking the doorway. Although the light was behind her, I knew who it was.

"Quiet," Vintel said. "Not a word."

I was determined to yell for help as loudly as I could, but before I could draw breath, she said, "Hold your tongue and save your warrior's life."

I held my tongue.

"You and I need to talk things over," she said. "I'm going to get a light. You're going to be quiet until I get back. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whispered.

She left the armory and shut and barred the door. Soon she was back, carrying a lamp. She closed the door behind her and set the lamp down.

"Where is Maara?" I demanded.

"Where she won't cause me any more trouble," Vintel replied.

She reached into the pocket of her tunic and drew out a long cord that had something dangling from it. She held it up so that I could see it. It was the token Maara always wore, Namet's midsummer gift.

I made a noise then that betrayed my fear.

Vintel smiled a cruel smile. "Don't worry. As long as you do as you're told, I'll take good care of her. If you're very good, I'll let her go to Laris."

"But Laris is here."

"Laris? Here? I don't think so."

Vintel sat down on a crate. "Oh," she said. "You must have misunderstood my message. Didn't Tamar get it right?"

Tamar had said exactly what she was told to say. Now I understood, and at that moment I so hated Vintel that if I'd had the power, I would have struck her dead and paid the penalty.

"Sit down."

Vintel gestured to one of the crates. I perched on the edge of it. She looked me up and down, then knit her brow as she thought something over. All the while I watched her, trying to set aside my anger and my fear, so that I could think clearly about what to do.

After what felt like a long time, Vintel said, "What shall I do with you?"

"You have no right to do anything with me."

"Little thief!" she hissed. "I have every right to keep you from taking what belongs to me."

She could have been speaking of her position in Merin's house, and perhaps she was, but she must also have been thinking of Sparrow. It was on the tip of my tongue to say that Sparrow was neither hers nor mine. Just in time I bit the words back. I would gain nothing by provoking her or by revealing how much I knew about the secrets of her heart.

"What do you want?" I asked her.

"Go home," she said.

"If Maara and I leave this place, the Lady will know who drove us out of it."

"Then we'll have to think of a good reason for your leaving Merin's house."

"At least you admit this is her house."

"Of course it is. What did you think? Did you believe I would betray her?"

My expression told her that was exactly what I believed.

"You do me an injustice," she said. "I'll be happy to leave things in Merin's house just as they are, as long as you're not in it."

I lowered my gaze in what I hoped she would interpret as submission.

"All right," I said. "I'll go home, but only if Maara comes with me."

"No."

"Then let me go with her to Laris."

"Not a good idea." Vintel slowly shook her head. "The two of you together are troublesome."

"No one will believe that Maara and I suddenly took it into our heads to leave Merin's house the same night and go in opposite directions."

Vintel pretended to think the problem over. "Of course we don't need to explain Maara's disappearance. Let people think what they will about that. But we do need to explain yours." She folded her arms across her chest and tapped one finger on her chin. "Responsibilities at home?" She grinned. "An illness? If your mother were taken ill, wouldn't she call you home?"

Now, along with my fear for Maara, I began to be afraid for Merin.

"The Lady will be alarmed if she thinks my mother is so unwell that she needs me with her."

"I imagine she will."

"She won't rest until she hears that my mother has recovered. Then she'll begin to look for my return."

"That's true," Vintel said. "Maybe we can think of something else."

"Something that won't frighten her," I said.

"Something that won't frighten her," Vintel agreed. She studied my face for a moment. "You'll go of your own will then?"

I nodded. It was the best bargain I could make, but I knew it to be a poor one. While I had no intention of going meekly home if I could help it, I didn't doubt that Vintel would provide an escort charged with preventing me from doing anything else. If I could get away from them, perhaps I could find Maara, and then we could decide together what to do.

Vintel stood up. "You'll have to stay here for a little while," she said.

In a moment she would be gone, and I would lose what might be my last chance to change her mind.

"It's not too late," I said.

"Too late for what?"

"Let me go. Bring Maara home. I swear to you, nothing will be said about it."

Vintel chuckled softly. "Why would I do that when I can be rid of the both of you so easily and no one the wiser?"

"This kind of secret is hard to keep."

"My warriors can hold their tongues," said Vintel.

An idea came into my head. I didn't have time to think over whether it was a good idea or not. I took a chance.

"How will you explain this to Sparrow?"

Vintel's eyes met mine, and I thought I saw in them the beginning of a doubt.

"She's as close to you as your own shadow," I said. "Do you think she won't find out what you've done? She will, and when she does, she'll see you as you really are."

Anger flashed in Vintel's eyes.

"I told her you might do something like this, but she wouldn't listen to me. She was angry with me, that I didn't share her high opinion of you. Now she'll see that I was right about you."

Vintel moved so quickly that I had no time to back away from her, even if there had been room. She closed the fingers of one hand around my throat and squeezed. Her face was close to mine, but it looked small and far away. I could hardly hear her voice above the roaring in my ears.

"No," she said. "I'll make Sparrow see that she was wrong about you."

When Vintel let go, my legs refused to hold me. I fell in a heap on the floor. She took the lamp and left me in the dark.

I lay on the floor of the armory for what seemed like hours and tried to anticipate what Vintel would do next. How would she get me out of the house? What would she tell Merin? And where was Maara? Vintel had threatened to harm her if I cried out, so Maara must not be far away. When I dozed, dreams troubled me, and I awoke feeling as helpless as I truly was.

I heard a noise outside the door. It opened a crack, and an arm appeared holding a lamp. I shielded my eyes against the light.

"Get up," said Vintel.

I got to my feet. She came into the armory and shut the door behind her.

"We're going to talk to Merin," she said. "You speak first. Tell her your mother has sent for you."

"What shall I tell her when she asks me why?"

"I'll take care of that," Vintel said.

She opened the door and stood aside to let me pass. As I went by her, she grasped my arm so hard that it bore the marks of her fingers for days afterward. "Behave yourself," she whispered in my ear.

She didn't need to renew her threat. As long as Maara's life was in her hands, I would give Vintel anything she wanted.

We went upstairs. From the light that found its way into the house, I judged it must be about midday. Merin was surprised to see the two of us together.

"I've come to take my leave of you," I told her. "I have to go home."

Merin's eyes went from my face to Vintel's. "What does this mean?"

"Tamras has had bad news," said Vintel.

She looked at me, as if she expected me to supply the reason why I had been called home. I didn't know what to say.

"Tell her," Vintel said to me.

"Tell me what?" said Merin.

What did Vintel expect me to say? I tried to think of an excuse that wouldn't alarm Merin.

"My mother needs my help," I told her. "There's illness in our village. She needs me there, to help her nurse the sick."

Vintel made a sound of disapproval.

"Tamras," she said. "You must tell her the truth."

"That is the truth."

Merin met my eyes and knew it for a lie. She turned to Vintel. "What is it that Tamras wants to keep from me?"

Vintel hesitated, as if she were truly reluctant to be the bearer of bad news.

"Tamras has lost her mother," she said.

"Lost?" Merin sounded lost.

"She died."

I stared at Vintel. "It's a lie."

Vintel kept her eyes on Merin's face. "She didn't want to tell you. I thought it would be better if you heard of it from her, but Tamras was afraid that you were still too frail to hear such sad news."

"It isn't true," I cried out to Merin. "Don't believe her. It isn't true."

But when Merin looked at me, I saw what she believed. I remembered her promise, that she would love her life for as long as Tamnet lived. She knew I had every reason to keep the knowledge of my mother's death from her.

As Vintel drew me away, Merin turned to the window and gazed out of it, as if she were watching her beloved leave her for the last time.

Vintel took me back downstairs. Tears were running down my face. I couldn't hold them back, even though they appeared to confirm Vintel's story. She must already have told it to others in the household. The few people we encountered regarded me with sympathy. Some offered words of condolence. Vintel hurried me past them. She took me back to the armory and shut us both in.

"You lied to me," I said.

Vintel smiled. "No, I didn't."

"You said you wouldn't frighten her."

"She isn't frightened."

"No," I said. "She's worse than frightened."

I was furious with Vintel for what she had done to Merin, although she couldn't know what I knew, that Merin's life might depend on whether or not my mother was still in this world.

"And while she's grieving, I'll look after things for her," Vintel said. "The way it used to be."

I had a sick feeling in my stomach. The lives of two people who were dear to me hung by a slender thread, and I was helpless.

"In the morning," Vintel said, "my warriors will see you on your way. They'll make sure you reach home safely."

"What about Maara?"

"As soon as you're well away from here, she'll be sent to Laris."

"Why would I trust you?"

"Because you have no choice. For all you know your warrior may be dead already. But if you refuse to leave here as you promised, I assure you, she will be dead before anything you say or do can save her."

I should have slept. I was exhausted, but hunger and my own restless thoughts kept me awake. My heart ached for Merin. I knew that she would not believe my mother wasn't dead until she saw her living. Once I found Maara, I would have to go home anyway, to bring my mother back to Merin's house. Would Merin wait that long?

And how would I escape my escort? I couldn't begin to imagine how I would accomplish all I had to do. The more I thought about my situation, the more my heart gave way to hopelessness.

I found nothing to comfort me. When I thought of Maara, I understood what Merin must be feeling. Maara's death was an impossibility. How could someone so real vanish from the earth? How empty the world would be without her. How empty my heart would be.

No light could penetrate the armory. My eyes beheld a darkness so complete that my mind began to make pictures of its own. A young woman with Namet's face peered out at me from a thicket in the wilderness. Merin's body, like an empty shell, sat gazing out her window, while her heart followed my mother home. In an oxcart, Sparrow lay with Eramet in her arms.

I remembered something I'd heard long ago, that love is the most important thing, but the only ones who know that are those who've lost it.