Kedor's Match

by Mette Ivie Harrison

sound very knowledgeable.”

  “My mother was a healer. She taught me a great deal about plants and their uses. Not very many people here have that ability.”

  “Because the men here were never trained in neweyr and the women have taweyr,” said Kedor, nodding. “That makes sense.”

  “If you will excuse me, I am very busy. I have some other plants to find and make a tincture for a man whose extremities have gone numb from poor circulation of the blood.” She tried to move by him, but Kedor stood in her way.

  “Is there a time when I could meet you and spend time with you then? Time that isn’t already promised to someone else and some other task?” asked Kedor.

  Jerta stared at him. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to talk to you.”

  “About what?” she said suspiciously.

  Kedor put up his hands. “I know we have all learned to be suspicious, but we are safe now. There is no reason for you to think of me as a potential spy. There is no one for me to tell your secrets to here. Even if I were the sort who betrayed secrets, which I assure you, I am not.” Wasn’t his ability to keep Issa and Kellin’s relationship secret testimony to that?

  “I have no secrets,” said Jerta. She stepped around him.

  “None at all?” said Kedor. “I find that hard to believe.” He reached for her arm and pulled her back to him.

  She yanked herself away from him and rubbed at her arm as if it were truly hurt.

  Kedor had not meant to pull on her that hard. In fact, he was sure he had not done so. He had not hurt her. But someone had. And for all her talk of secrets, the shadow in her eyes right now made him certain he was right. She was still holding tight to hers, and as long as she did that, she would never make a home of this place.

  It might not be perfect, but it was better than always being on the run, always looking over your shoulder, always thinking death by burning was one step behind you.

  “I do not want to talk to you. Is there some reason that you cannot understand that?” said Jerta. “I have a few simple wants, and in Rurik, I knew that I could not expect them to be heeded. But I thought that here, where King Jaap ruled and Princess Issa will follow after him, a woman would be treated with more respect.”

  At this speech, she strode quickly away from him and Kedor could only watch her from behind. It did not occur to him until later that night why it was so strange. If she were as angry with him as she seemed to be, why had she not once used taweyr to make him let go of her arm, or to revenge herself on him?

  Did some part of her like him, even if she was unwilling to admit to it? Was she embarrassed because she thought that he was already taken by the princess? He would have to make it clear to her that she had made a mistake there, that he was free to make an attachment to someone else, and that she was the someone he had in mind.

  He waited for several more days, watching again as she took care of everyone in the underground courtyard, from small hurts to larger ones, and not all of them physical. But always, she returned to her own place afterward. She seemed to want to be alone.

  In time, he became sure she was aware of him watching her. She would turn and stare at him from a distance, and then look away. Or she would make sure she was turned away from him, even if made for an uncomfortable motion in an area where he was standing.

  At last, Kedor had an opportunity when one of the younger women was injured during a taweyr battle and he was close enough (and strong enough—she was quite slim) to carry her to the place that was quickly becoming known as the hospital for the underground courtyard, Jerta’s place, near the light that came from the tunnels to above so that she could see well, and also grow her herbs.

  “Oh, it’s you,” said Jerta, her eyes glancing over him.

  “She’s hurt badly,” said Kedor, nodding at the woman’s arm, which was clearly broken.

  “Yes, so I see. Well, I can take care of it. You don’t need to stay here,” Jerta said brusquely.

  “But I thought I could learn from you. With my neweyr, I could help to grow plants for medicinal uses. And you could teach me what to do, in case you are not available. Or are simply too tired,” said Kedor.

  Jerta’s eyes blazed. “You want to take from me the one thing that I still have of my mother, who died last year trying to keep my secret from King Haikor’s men? You want to make me useless here, where I have nothing special but this to mark me different from other women?” she demanded.

  “No—” Kedor sputtered. “I didn’t mean that at all. I only wanted to help you.”

  “You? Why would I want your help? I do not know why you are still here in any case. Does your princess tire of you? Is that why she leaves you down here instead of taking you up to the castle with her? Or is she ashamed of you because you are not man enough for her?”

  Now Kedor was angry, which he realized a moment later was exactly what Jerta had intended to make him feel. He nearly stalked away, but kept his control.

  “It is not what you think.” He glanced at the woman whose arm was broken. He did not think she was conscious, but he did not care anymore. “The princess and I feel nothing for each other. She only comes to see me because of my brother, who lives still in Rurik.” He just controlled himself enough not to use his brother’s name.

  “Your brother?” said Jerta.

  “My older brother, who has a place in King Haikor’s court,” said Kedor.

  “And he has not forgotten you here in Weirland? He has not rejected you because you are ekhono?” Her eyes were alight with something like desire, and Kedor felt relief at last. This was going to work out.

  “He helped me get here. He still helps ekhono escape from Rurik, when he can,” said Kedor. “Many of the people here have been helped by him, though he is often in disguise and he does not give them his name.”

  “And is he close enough to the king to change his mind? To gain mercy for an ekhono who is condemned?”

  “No, he has to work in secret,” said Kedor. “I do not think King Haikor will ever change his mind about the ekhono. Not while he is yet living.” Though perhaps his son, Prince Edik, might, once he was on the throne.

  “Well, it does not matter in any case,” said Jerta. “I don’t know why I thought it might.” She turned away and worked carefully to bind the broken arm of the woman Kedor had brought to her.

  She would not speak to him anymore that day, or the next.

  It was only on the third day following that Kedor realized the truth.

  He had never seen Jerta use taweyr. He had never seen her use neweyr, either. Not directly. But he was certain she had used it when she was not watching. That was her secret. She was using the neweyr to help heal those here whom she could help. And why was she doing it? Because she felt guilty.

  She was not ekhono at all. She was here for some other reason. And Kedor could only think of one.

  “Are you a spy?” Kedor asked, confronting her late one evening, when she was alone in her hospital, digging in the garden around her plants.

  She stood up and he could see the tremor around her mouth , which she quickly covered up.

  “I don’t know what you mean,”

  “A spy for King Haikor. I know now that you aren’t ekhono. You have as much neweyr as I do.”

  “Just because I have no interest in battling with the taweyr, that does not mean I have neweyr,” said Jerta. She did not look at him. “Perhaps it is easier for you to imagine yourself interested in a woman who you think is normal, rather than a woman who has the male magic.”

  Kedor considered this, but only briefly. That had nothing to do with it. “Tell me why you are here. What information does King Haikor want to find out about us?”

  “I told you, I am not a spy.”

  “But you are,” said Kedor. “And I will tell Princess Issa that. She will find out the truth. And even if it isn’t the truth, can you imagine continuing to live here after such a suspicion has been publicly aired?”

  Th
e tremor returned. “You wouldn’t,” she said.

  Kedor was not sure if he would or not. He did not want to hurt her. But he had to know the truth of her secrets. “Tell me why you came. I cannot believe you mean to betray us all of your own free will.”

  She seemed to change before his eyes from the woman who held herself tall, and never let herself take a breath without making sure she had full control of it—to a woman who was hunched over with pain, full of tears and vulnerable indeed.

  “My father,” she said. “King Haikor threatened my father with death if I did not come here as a spy. He wants to know how many ekhono are here, and how loyal they are to Jaap. He wants to know if they will work as an army against him, should he invade.”

  “Invade? I thought he was going to marry his son to Princess Issa.”

  Jerta shrugged. “I did not hear that until I came here. But it does not change what I must do to save my father.”

  “Is your father ekhono?” asked Kedor.

  “No, he is not. He has a brother who was ekhono, however. And that is enough for him to be under suspicion himself. Our whole family has been watched, and now I am forced to be here. Kedor, if you tell Princess Issa who I am, she will have to kill me. She can’t know I am a spy. Please, I beg you.”

  “I can’t let you go tell King Haikor all about the castle and the ekhono. I must tell King Jaap about a possible invasion. He will not be expecting it,” said Kedor.

  “And then my father will die,” said Jerta. “And I will be thrown out of here, as a spy. I will