Misery's Child (The Cadian Chronicles) (18 page)

More than anything
she wanted to cry, but she would not allow it. Crying was only helpful when
there were strong arms of a father or brother nearby to comfort her. That was a
luxury she had been denied for countless summers. She couldn’t remember the last
time she’d been touched by a man, until tonight....

“I’ll gather more
wood for the fire,” he said, rising. “The night air is warm but these stones
are very cold.”

And oh, his arms
had been so very comforting, so like the security she’d found in her father’s
arms when she was small and frightened of some shadow. Like and yet....
Different. If only she could crawl back into those arms.

She splashed a bit
of the water into her hands, careful not to use too much, and then wiped her
face. She felt the dried bits of blood flaking away beneath her fingers.

She tried to
straighten her wimple and realized she would have to take it off and start all
over. She felt like crying again, this time in frustration. It was all well and
good for Yanna to lecture her on correct behavior and dress, but the cadia had
never taught her what to do in such an inappropriate situation as this. She
wasn’t supposed to uncover her hair in front of any man, but did that include
this one who’d saved her virtue, if not her life? Was she supposed to sit here
all rumpled with her wimple and kerchief askew rather than straighten it? Sweet
Mother Leah, she wasn’t supposed to be here at all!

For all she knew,
her father and Yanna both might be dead.
Mother
Leah,
she prayed silently,
let them
be all right, father and mother and Marta and Paul....
All of
them.
Poor Iafrewn! Had the bandits tried to kidnap her, too? Or had
they succeeded?

She ripped the
wimple, kerchief and veil from her head and folded the ragged mess into her
lap. It was silly to worry about proprieties now. And if Oman didn’t like it,
well.... Then He was a silly old god.

She looked up
fearfully as Scearce returned. He stopped short at the lip of the cave and her
trained ears could not miss the sharp intake of breath. A violent blush crept
across her face as she looked away. No doubt she’d offended him with her naked
head. He must think her shameless.

 
He dropped an armful of kindling to the
fire. He sat down on the far side of the glowing embers with his saddlebag over
his crossed legs.

“I have a little
bread,” he said, refusing to look at her. “And part of an paggie, if you’d
prefer the fruit.”

She shook her
head, sending a shower of golden curls about her shoulders. She drew her knees
to her chest and crossed her arms over them as if to hide.

“I...I couldn’t
eat.
Nothing, thank you.
You are most kind.”

“Please stop
telling me I am kind!” His voice slammed against the
stone
walls
. Pain crossed his features. When he spoke again, his voice was
much lower and carefully formal. “You are the daughter of my father’s oldest
friend and more. You are consecratia, and as such, I am bound as a noble of the
Omani to protect and serve you. Anything I have is yours.”

Tears slid from
her lashes. She tried to hide her face in her arms but he was suddenly beside
her.

“Please, Lillitha,
don’t cry.” His hand reached out hesitantly to stroke her hair. “I am so sorry,
I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that.... It’s just...”

“I know! I know!”
She was sobbing in earnest now as shock, fear and fatigue crashed in on her.
“I’m the one who’s sorry, it’s all my stupid fault...I’m the one they were
after! Because of me they might all be dead! Or if they are alive, my parents
must think I am dead or kidnapped! I can’t bear it!”

“
Ssh
,
ssh
,
Lilli...It’s not your fault, you didn’t invite the bandits down from the hills!
Your parents are safe, I’m sure of it.”

She was in his
arms, her tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. He cradled her like a fragile
thing, rocking her gently.

“The riffraff that
attacked us wasn’t interested in killing anyone, only taking whatever there was
to take. They’re all right, your father and mother and my father and all the
rest...they scattered, as we did, to find shelter. At first light, it’ll be
safe to go and find them. They may even be camped in one of these same caves
nearby.”

“You really think
so?” she whispered, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. She wanted
to believe him despite what she’d seen. One of her father’s own men stabbed,
Yanna welding her dagger...

“I’m sure of it.
You can’t cry, or I will cry too—you laugh? You think men don’t shed
tears the same as women? Perhaps they don’t, but sometimes they’d like to.”

“You’re only
saying that to make me feel better.”

“I would never
tell a falsehood, not even for so noble a purpose. I’m sure your parents and
all the rest are unharmed. So sure, I’ll bet you this ring—” he waved a
finger bearing a thick gold band intricately carved— “that we’ll find
them all safe and sound in the morning.”

He lifted her chin
delicately with just the tips of his long fingers and smiled down at her.

It seemed that the
whole world was in that smile. Cool spring rain, warm summer breezes, the sound
of the tides against the shore....

She had to smile
in return,
then
ducked her head in an embarrassment so
acute as to be painful. He was joking to cover his discomfort, so she would
joke, too, so he would not think her a sniveling fool. “My lord, Oman frowns on
wagers.... Besides, what have I to wager against your lovely ring?”

“A lock of your
hair would be prize enough.... I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

His brow furrowed,
crinkling his eyes as if in pain. She couldn’t bear to see him so stricken on
her account. Nor could she allow herself the luxury of remaining so close to
his warmth. Surely, after tonight’s trials Oman would allow her this moment of
weakness.
A moment, but no longer.

“I have an idea,”
she said brightly, sitting up and away as she wiped her eyes. “Let’s agree to
stop begging each other’s forgiveness every other moment. You have saved my
life and I am very grateful. ’Tis a strange night and I hardly know how to
behave. You must think me mad.”

“No....I don’t
think that.”

“Though I’ll not
take your bet, my lord Scearce...or should I address you as Prince Scearce?”

“I don’t know.... Call
me Scearce, just as you used to before time made strangers of us. Please.”

“Then I am just
plain Lilli. No more milady this and milady that.” She knew she was talking too
much, but she couldn’t stop. Her heart beat queerly and her face seemed to be
burning up. “I’ll not take your bet because I’m sure you are right. I just wish
my mother could know that I am well and safe.”

“My father asked
me to stay close by in case you had need of me. No doubt when he does not find
me, he will guess what has happened and will comfort your mother with that
knowledge.”

“Do you think so?
Oh, this will be a long night! I hope Yanna is all right.”

“She has the look
of a woman who can take care of herself.”
 

“Yes, I suppose
she does.” She couldn’t dispel the image of her cadia-techa putting the knife
to that man’s throat. Yanna had done it as expertly as Tesla dispatched hens
and pigs bound for the dinner table. She wondered if Scearce had seen it. Some
instinct told her not to speak of it. Yannamarie was cadia, and whatever a
cadia did in the course of duty
was
no one’s business
but her sisters. It was part of the creed that Yanna had drummed into her.

He stood without
speaking and walked to where the horse was tethered just outside their shelter.
When he returned, he carried his saddle blanket.

“You should rest.”
He laid the blanket over her shoulders and retreated to the mouth of the cave.
“I’ll keep watch.”

“I don’t think I
can sleep.” It occurred to her that perhaps he would prefer her silence to this
senseless chatter. “But I’ll try to rest my eyes at least. Aren’t you going to
be cold?”

“No. I have my
cloak.”

She stretched out
on the stones, pulling her rolled up wimple and kerchief under her head. They
made a poor pillow, but the saddle blanket was thick and heavy, smelling
comfortingly of horse and rider.

“Talk to me,
please. Just until I feel sleepy. I feel better when you’re talking.”
 

“What should I
talk about?” He did not turn towards her. All she could see was his back and
the fine line of his shoulders.

“Tell me about
Jeptalla. I barely remember it, except for the flowers in your mother’s garden.
Sometimes I dream of them.”

“Yes.” He was
quiet for a long moment. “She loved her garden. I think it took the place in
her heart where other children should have been. But my entire kingdom is like
a garden, in a way. In the spring, there are so many colors it hurts your eyes,
trying to decide where to look. And in the summer,
everything
is
a thousand shades of green
.... I’m afraid I’m not a
very gifted conversationalist.”

“Don’t be silly.
Besides, I don’t get to talk to many people.”

His shape rocked
with laughter. “So you have nothing to compare my conversation to? I’m
grateful.”

“I didn’t mean
that!” Oh, surely, it was wrong that they laughed so easily together. One minute,
they were painfully uncomfortable with each other, and then the next it was as
if they were children again. “I’m sorry about your mother. She was very kind to
me.”

“She was kind to
everyone.” He turned toward the night sky once more. “She enjoyed having you
and your family at the Seat that summer. She said the echoes did not sound so
lonely when they rang with the voices of many children.”

“She wrote the
most wonderful letters to my mother. She had a way of setting down words that
sounded as if she was really speaking to you, right there in the same room.”

“Really? What did
she write about?”

“Oh, everything
and nothing.
Mostly about you.
The funniest one I
remember was when you first started your swordsman’s lessons. She said you kept
attacking the shooma stalks in the field, but that you were so very serious
that she was afraid none of the crop would see harvest.”

He laughed again,
the sound sending the strangest tickle of warmth into her stomach. “I remember.
I pretended they were Torian invaders. I didn’t know that mother knew about
that.”

“You must miss her
dreadfully.”

“I do. But the
river flows on.”

“Yes,” she said
softly. “Much has changed since we last met in Margarie.”

“Aye.” His words
were edged with bitterness. “My mother and Jonil were both alive then.... I’m
sorry about Jonil. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“It’s all right.
He was angry and unhappy during the last. But he was happy that summer. He
thought the fair was glorious, so did I.” Her eyelids closed. “You bought me a
peaberry tart with your own pocket coin, do you remember?”

He laughed. “You
gave it to Jonil. It made me angry at the time. You gave him anything he asked
for. It made me wish I’d had a sister.... Do you miss him?”

She thought long
before she answered. It somehow seemed important to speak truthfully.

“Sometimes. He was
so unpredictable. One day he’d bring me a whole bushel of wild flowers so I
could paint them. He’d spend hours describing the ships in the harbor since....
Well, I hardly ever get to see the harbor anymore. He knew I missed it. Then
the next day, he’d step on my skirt just to hear it tear or say something awful
or —oh, anything at all to be spiteful. But it just because he was so
unhappy.”

“What about your
other brother? Paul?”

“Oh, Paul is as
sweet as a brother could be... Though he’s almost thirteen now, and has little
time for his stuffy old sister.”

“It would have
been nice to have a brother, though Gordas—you remember Gordas? He is
practically a brother to me. Or maybe
a sister like
you. Someone who hung on my every word the way you did Jonil’s. I don’t think
he knew how lucky he was.”

His flattery
sounded sincere. She blushed in the dim firelight, thankful that her face was
hidden. Nevertheless, it stung, somehow, to know that he had seen her only as sister.
She was being a dolt. What had she wanted him to see her as?

“It must have been
lonely for you.”

“More a kind of
burden than anything else.” He sighed deeply. “Being the only child means you
have to be everything. Do you know what I mean? I’m not putting it very well.”

“No, no. I do
understand. You’re the only one, so you must carry all their hopes and
fears—”

He turned towards
her finally, his face eager. “Yes, that’s it exactly. Everything is piled onto
me. Of course, you would understand.... I’ve been so stupid, talking on and on
so. You need to rest. Go to sleep, Lilli.”