The Plains of Kallanash (20 page)

Despite all that had happened, she felt comfortable with Hurst. He had never been other than polite and considerate towards her, and he treated her now exactly as he had before. Marginally more formal
ly, perhaps, but nothing to make her uneasy. In fact, she felt almost too settled with him. There had always been a restfulness to their brief times alone, without Jonnor, and sometimes now she could almost feel she was back in those days when Hurst was no more than a good friend. When she was with him, she almost forgot that Jonnor was dead and burned.

There was one matter nagging at the back of her mind. Sooner or later, she knew, Hurst would want to come to her bed. He had not mentioned the subject, not even in the most obscure, roundabout way. There wasn’t so much as a touch or a glance which might suggest that the thought had even crossed his mind, but she knew the problem would have to be addressed eventually.

She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. She grieved for Jonnor, of course, she missed him unbearably, but there was no doubt that sex with him had never been terribly enjoyable for her. Whereas Hurst… well, that was something else altogether. She surprised herself, actually, by thinking about it at all, and sometimes at night she lay awake thinking of his gentle hands and his passionate kisses. Especially his kisses.

So to set her mind at rest, she raised the subject herself. He regarded her solemnly as she stumblingly asked whether he was waiting for the month of mourning to end, or was there perhaps some other time he had in mind?

“What are your wishes on the matter?” he asked politely.

“I
– well, it’s for you to decide, isn’t it?”

“Technically, perhaps, but I would never do anything you disliked.” They had finished their meat, and were sitting over a glass of wine. He reached for the decanter and refilled his glass. “Mia, I’m glad you’ve brought the subject up. I’ve been wondering how to broach it myself. But honestly, I don’t know when the time will be right. Maybe never.”

“Oh. But isn’t that why…?”

“Partly, but it wasn’t the only reason. It was more to do with Jonnor, really.”

“Oh.” She found it hard to understand. He had told her that he wanted her, he had said he loved her, yet now it seemed he would go back to the days when they slept in adjoining rooms but never so much as kissed.

“Mia,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand, “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling just now. I’ve put you in a horrible position, and I know you must hate me, but…”

“I don’t hate you!” she said, startled.

“Don’t you?” There was a flash of something in his eyes
– was it hope? He was pleased, certainly.

“Of course I don’t.” And it was true, she realised. She had been upset about the blue arrows and of course she grieved for Jonnor, but she had never hated Hurst for what he had done. He had his reasons, and she had some inkling of the way Jonnor had treated him over the years.

“I know it’s for me to make these decisions,” he said slowly, “but I don’t wish to press you. So I’m leaving it up to you to decide. You come to me whenever you want to. However long that takes. But it’s your choice.”

“Don’t you care?” she said, with a spurt of anger, pulling her hand away. Hadn’t he killed Jonnor for access to her? Yet now he seemed to be turning away from her.

“Of course I care,” he spat back. “What do you think I am? D’you think I just used you as an excuse? But I know how much you loved Jonnor, and I’m not going to rush things. I can wait until you’re ready to come to me.”

“And what if I’m never ready?”

He hesitated then, picked up his wineglass and stared at it, then put it down again.

“I think you will be,” he said flatly. “Eventually.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m reasonably sure.”

“Why?” She was angry with him now. Who was he to presume to know her mind better than she did herself?

“Two reasons,” he said with irritating calmness. “Firstly, it’s your duty to sleep with the lead husband, and you always do your duty, Mia. And secondly, I know you want a child.”

“Maybe I’m already pregnant. Have you thought of that?”

“You’re not,” he said.

“How can you
possibly
know that? I don’t know myself!”

“Because if it were my child, it would be obvious by now, and Jonnor…” There was a long pause, while he looked away from her. Then he lifted his head and looked her straight in the eye.

“Because Jonnor was incapable of siring a child.”

Hurst saw the disbelief in her eyes. He had always known this would be difficult, but he supposed she had to learn it sooner or later.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she said. “Jonnor had three children.”

She jumped up and started collecting platters and bowls, and carrying them across to the lifter. He got up to help, and for a while they worked in silence, weaving past each other. Even in her anger, she was neat, precise in her movements. There was no banging of pots or clashing of spoons. But when everything was tidied away to her satisfaction, the table wiped, the used crocks sent down to the kitchen in the lifter, she set a bowl of tiny cakes on the table and sat down again. He sat too, and poured a little more wine into her glass, although she had hardly touched it.

“So how do you know this?” she said, and her voice was calm and level.

“Tella told me,” he said, trying to answer in the same tone. It wasn’t easy. He knew she would be hurt by it, and would certainly think badly of Tella as a result, and of him too, perhaps. But it couldn’t be helped. “She came to me when we’d been married close to two years. She said that she and Jonnor had been doing their duty
– those were her words – on a regular basis, but… no baby. She asked if I would help out.”

“You slept with her?” Mia was open-mouthed with astonishment.

“Yes. Jonnor was off at the lines for a week or more, she thought the timing was right, so… yes, I slept with her. And it worked. She had Tellon. For a while, two or three years at least, she invited me into her bed quite regularly. Not for a baby – it was just sex, she told me that. But then she got restless, I don’t know why, maybe she was bored with me, but anyway, it all stopped. After that, she was away a lot. She didn’t want another baby, she hated not being able to ride, hated the whole business, but she was under pressure to have her three – both from Jonnor and from the Slaves. I think – I’m not sure about this, I’m just going by hints – but I think she wanted Jonnor to try with you, but he wouldn’t, of course.”

“He loved her, he never wanted me,” she said in a low voice.

“So then she had an affair with Jonnor’s father, and…”

“What!”

“It’s true. I think it went on for a while, actually. When we first moved here, he was only on the fourth line then, but really close. I think they used to meet halfway. Even when he moved to fifth, it went on. Jaslia is his, she told me that. But Jinnia – I have no idea where that hair came from. I don’t know anyone with hair that colour, do you?”

But she was too shocked to speak.

“Everyone assumed it was Gantor or Walst,” he went on, “since they both have blond hair, but it wasn’t them. It wasn’t any of the Companions. Surely you must have wondered too?” he added gently.

She was silent for a long time, then she sighed. “Did Jonnor know? He was so proud of Tellon when he was born.”

“I don’t think he knew then, but I suspect – well, it’s just a guess, really – I think he knew later. I suppose she must have told him. Their rows were always volatile, there was bound to come a time when she threw that in his face.”

He got up and paced across the room. “I don’t think he realised it was me, though. Tella told him I’d slept with her, but he didn’t believe it. If he’d guessed, he’d have let me know it. He wasn’t a man to keep such things to himself.”

He wondered for a moment if he’d gone too far, but she just nodded.

He sat down again, sipping his wine. “He stopped taking any interest in Tellon, do you remember that? And I suppose he must have wondered about Jaslia and Jinnia. Especially Jinnia. That was why
…”

He stopped, not sure how much he should say, but she was watching him calmly now, thoughtful.

“That was why he was so keen to keep you to himself these last few months,” he said. “Because of Tella. Because he wanted children he could be sure were his.”

She nodded slowly, taking the idea in.

“Poor Jonnor,” she said sadly.

~~~

Hurst was surprised to find that he rather enjoyed the business of finding a new pair for the marriage. It was a wonderful distraction, and it gave him something to talk about in the evenings alone with Mia, which might otherwise have been a bit tense. She had not followed Jonnor’s path in moping about, or weeping copiously, and although she was very pale, there were no other signs of the grief she must be feeling. In fact, she was remarkably composed, and carried out the duties of the period of mourning without obvious signs of distress. He could only guess what it must cost her to keep her feelings under such control.

Once or twice it crossed his mind that perhaps she was not quite as grief-stricken as he might have expected, and he wondered whether her deepest feelings for Jonnor coincided with the time when he was with Tella, and therefore an unattainable ideal. The reality of Jonnor as husband left something to be desired, perhaps. But then she had been in love with him for a long time
; her grief must run very deep, even if she hid it well.

Jonnor’s parents left, but the three young men, candidates for the marriage, would stay for the whole month of mourning and a full month after that, so that Hurst and Mia could get to know them well enough to make a choice, and also to see if any natural pairings emerged from amongst the youngsters. Hurst was not allowed to do any training himself, nor were his Companions, but the three candidates were not merely allowed but expected to show off their skills. They were being selected, after all, to man the boundary lines during skirmishes, so it was essential to choose one who was at least competent.

Hurst found it rather pleasant to spend his afternoons standing in a huddle with Gantor, Trimon and Walst at the side of the training ground, whispering disparaging remarks about the three possibilities. Sometimes they took them off to Gantor’s little room and quizzed them about skirmish strategies and battle history. None of them did very well, but then they were much like Jonnor had been, rather good looking and aware of it, charming and personable, but not terribly ambitious. Hurst wasn’t bothered. He had his own plan in mind, and none of these three featured in it.

Mia’s mother was not well enough to travel, and her father chose to stay at home too, but one of her uncles came instead, with one of the younger wives, and brought three female prospects for the marriage. Two were sisters of Mia’s, but Mia didn’t know them very well. It always surprised Hurst that women brought up under the same roof for fifteen years could be virtual strangers.

Brothers, in his experience, tended to spend their childhood in one giant roving band, playing with wooden swords, miniature bows and any piece of wood long enough to stand as spear or stave. The younger ones underwent a great deal of ritual humiliation and beating up at the hands of the older, and became in time the ones handing out the beatings. The process was not substantially different under the scholars, or even as adults, just ritualised into tests, tournaments and skirmishes. It gave all the brothers a close bond which stood them in good stead for their professional lives.

Sisters, it seemed, were different. They tended to fall into groupings of two or three, and had very little to do with those outside their own little clan. Mia only knew the two sisters slightly, and they seemed not to know each other very well, either. It led to a certain amount of competition between them, and any comment he or Mia made to one or the other, especially if complimentary, brought a triumphant smirk from the one and a glower from the other. Hurst thought them both very tedious.

The third candidate was a cousin of Mia’s, and that was unusual in itself. Almost always, a marriage was composed of brothers on one side and sisters on the other. Bringing in a cousin was regarded as something of a desperate measure, only done if there were no likely siblings, as it had been for him and Jonnor, since neither of them had had brothers of suitable age qualified to be Karningholders. But Henissa was rather a good choice, he thought. She was twenty – old enough to have seen a little of life, but not so old that anyone would suspect her of grasping at any likely prospect. She was not as pretty as the other two, and, being rather large for a woman, not as daintily elegant as his beloved Mia. She had a quiet intelligence, however, and he discovered soon enough that she could play crowns rather handily.

As before, Hurst’s own father was the last of the official mourners to arrive. As soon as he had Hurst alone, Tanist congratulated him on ‘dealing with the Jonnor problem’ as he put it.

“You will go on much better now, you know, just you and Mia. You’ll be in control, as you always should have been. This is much the best way, you’ll see.”

Hurst wasn’t quite as confident as his father, so he just said, “I’m glad it’s over, at least.”

“I’m sure. It must have been unpleasant, for a while. But it’s over and done with, that’s the main thing. Now we can look to the future. And I’ve done as you asked. Good choices, I must say.”

Hurst had taken the precaution of writing to his father as soon as he asked for the blue arrows, suggesting three of his brothers as possibilities to join the marriage, whether to replace Jonnor or himself. He knew that when one or other of them fell, there would be little time to consider the options, especially for his father. Since he lived away on the western border, he would have to leave immediately to reach the Karning before the end of the month of mourning and would have no time to do more than scoop up whichever of his brothers happened to be there at the time. As it happened, Tanist had been mulling over possibilities ever since Tella died in the hope that things would come to blue arrows in the end. He was not a man to be taken by surprise.

All three brothers were proven Skirmishers, but one in particular appealed to Hurst. Twenty-three year old Bernast was one of the few to follow Hurst’s own career path, and spend some time with his father on the border. It meant he had already proved himself in battle, an incomparable advantage for the day Hurst hoped would come eventually, when he himself reached the border.

In the event, Bernast and Henissa took an instant liking to each other. The ages and personalities were a good match, and Mia liked both of them, too. All the candidates would stay the full month, for it would be useful experience for them, but the matter was as good as settled.

~~~

Hurst was rather pleased with the way things had turned out. He had just one thing bothering him at the moment, and it was the one he had told Mia he was quite relaxed about. Almost as soon as the month of mourning was over, and the normal routine resumed, he found himself increasingly restless for sex. The skirmishes were restarting soon, and he began to feel that it would not be sensible to leave for the lines without some kind of release. He often went to the guardhouse in such circumstances, and took advantage of the guards’ nightwomen, but with all the Skirmishers based at the Karninghold for the mourning period, there would be long queues there and he was disinclined for the usual riotous atmosphere that prevailed.

So he decided he would ask Mia’s Companions to help him out, as they were obliged to do. He had no choice in which of them it would be, but one or other of them would take care of him, as they had done many times in the past. He was deep in his own thoughts on the matter, wondering whether it would be Mista or Marna who came, and rather hoping it would be Mista, so he simply got up after meat and headed for the stairs.

“Going out?” Mia asked, looking up from her book.

“Oh… um… yes.”

“The guardhouse? They have some musicians in tonight, don’t they?”

He hesitated, rather torn. It would be so easy to say something non-committal, and leave her to think he was just going to share a jug of ale with the guards and Skirmishers. Or he could lie outright, and tell her he was going down to see Gantor, Trimon and Walst. But something held him back. If she asked him tomorrow how the music was, he would be in a difficult position. He really didn’t want to lie to her, however trivial it might be. And somewhere at the back of his mind was the thought that it wouldn’t hurt to remind her that he was a man with needs. So he stopped at the head of the stairs.

“No, actually. I’m going down to see your Companions.”

He saw puzzlement cross her face, and then she suddenly understood, and blushed.

“I’ll be back in a while,” he said, and turned to go.

“No, wait,” she said, standing up. “Don’t go.”

“Well, if you dislike the idea… but it’s part of their job, you know.”

“It’s my job too.”

He turned and took a couple of paces towards her.

“Mia… I’m not trying to push you into anything. I want you to be ready.”

“I am ready. At least, I’ll never be more ready than I am now.”

He walked slowly towards her. “That’s not quite the same thing.”

He stopped, near enough to reach out and touch her, but he kept his arms firmly at his sides. His heart was pumping in his chest, and he thought perhaps he was trembling.

“Hurst, I have to do this sooner or later. This is as good a time as any.”

It wasn’t exactly the declaration he had hoped for, but it was an offer he was incapable of refusing. He reached for her now, running one finger gently down her face.

She looked up at him, her face paler than usual, he thought. Was she afraid of him? Surely not. He cupped her cheek in one hand and softly kissed her mouth. And oh glory, she kissed him back. How he had missed her!