by Andre Norton
Bog. She would, however, wear the Ash badge necklace he had also given her. She had been somewhat apprehensive about Harous's reaction to her actually going through with the marriage to Obern, but he seemed to have accepted the inevitable with good-enough grace. Lord Royance's kind explanations helped.
"The Lord Marshal has too much ambition," he told her. "One day it may be his undoing, but not yet, thanks to your Obern. I like that boy. He has initiative.
He also had wit enough to turn what could have been a very unpleasant situation into one where the King's dignity was preserved. I can only hope that the King has sense enough to know, and remember, what Obern did for him."
Royance also told her that an apartment was being readied for her in the main building of the castle. "This is yours permanently," he said, "for your use whenever you are in the city. It is on the same floor, though in another wing, as the King's apartments, and the Dowager's."
Ashen nodded, her feelings decidedly mixed. She had enjoyed living apart from
Ysa and her son, but Royance assured her that she could not flout protocol by refusing. And there would be Obern to protect her. More and more she recognized that she had made a wise decision in agreeing to marry him. However, more than once, she wished they could just duck into the Great Fane one afternoon and have the priest, Esander, say the words over them and be done with it.
Obern, she discovered, felt much the same way. "But this is what I get for marrying a great lady," he said, laughing. "And I'll put up with anything at all for the sake of thati"
He, also, found his respite from the hustle and bustle of the second royal wedding in one season, by taking some of the Sea-Rovers—along with Lathrom, who had resigned from the King's Guard and was now Obern's closest companion—and going into the Bog. There, following his dim memory and aided by a rough map
Ashen gave him, they located the ruined city of Galinth, and retrieved Obern's
Rinbell sword. Expectably, the Bog-men discovered the incursion and attacked.
The Sea-Rovers fought them off with only minor injuries to their number, and
Ashen discovered later that her heart pounded strangely in her throat at the thought that Obern might have been wounded or even killed.
I must love him at least a little, she thought, to feel this way. And so she turned to the preparations with renewed energy. Feeling in some obscure manner that so doing would honor Obern's bravery, she decided also to wear the opalescent stone bracelet she had found in the depths of the Galinth catacombs, on a man whose body had not been buried there.
To nobody's great surprise, no culprit was ever found for Ashen's abduction, and she put the incident aside, knowing that the mystery would never be solved. From now on, Obern would be there to protect her from anything untoward. Other various comings and goings and news from the outside world passed her by almost unremarked. She noted that the man who would be her father-in-law, Snolli, was remaining in Rendelsham, not caring to make the arduous journey twice in such a short time. When she was introduced to him, he merely looked her up and down at first. "I remember you," he said by way of greeting. "Saw you when they took you out of the Bog. You were thin and pale then, and you still are. But Obern wants you, and that's good enough for me." Then he enfolded her in a hug that nearly cracked her ribs, and went on his way.
The small man, Kasai, was a little more forthcoming. "We were tracking Obern, y'see, and watched while the Boggers attacked them as was taking the two of you away. We had to fight the leavings." He grinned. "D'you want me to look into the future for you? I have that gift."
Ashen considered his offer, knowing that it was one not made lightly. Eventually she shook her head. "I think I would rather not know what lay ahead. If I could change it, I might, and then who knows what else would be disturbed because of that change? And if I could not change it, and it was unpleasant, then I would be even more unhappy than I would have been, innocent of any foreknowledge. But
I do thank you for the offer."
"Smart woman. I don't often say that." Then Kasai bowed and followed his
Chieftain.
The rough ways of the Sea-Rovers did not offend her, for she had been brought up in the Bog where the crudity of their manners would have been thought of as foppish affectations. In fact, she felt more at home in their company than she did with the Rendelians, even though she had come to like much of this kind of life. However, she did begin to be disturbed because of a certain change in
Obem's manner toward her now that he was among his own kind. Sea-Rovers, she surmised, thought it unmanly to display open affection for their women. But, she thought, perhaps that was only for display. Surely, in private, he would be different, warmer and more loving.
Others came and went at Rendelsham Castle, including a new ambassador from the far northern lands. His name was Gaurin and, it was said, he was the son of the other ambassador, Count Bjauden, who had never returned from his mission. Ashen put this information aside, concerning, as it did, things that had happened long before she had arrived in the city. Perhaps she would meet him at the wedding, and perhaps not.
Before she knew what had become of the four seven-days suggested by Royance, she was standing with Obern before a priest of the Great Fane of the Glowing—not
Esander, but one far greater than he. She felt numb, a little disconnected from the ceremonies, as she repeated the marriage vows. Beside her, she felt Obern trembling and knew that he was affected likewise. And then it was over, and the marriage procession left the Fane to cross the courtyard and go to the Great
Hall of the castle where a feast—considerably smaller in scale than Florian's, but still great enough to honor his sister— awaited the guests. Ashen hoped that at least some of these guests were there to honor her and her new husband, and not in hopes of getting a good meal in a land where food was growing scarce.
At least the weather had abated somewhat. Though not nearly warm enough for late summer, at least the air was not so chill that a fur-lined cloak over her white, blue-trimmed dress was a necessity, if she were quick to get indoors again.
Obern's dark green doublet was trimmed with fur at neck and sleeves, and bore silver-and-gold embroidery on it. A memory stirred. Green, like that half-forgotten green cord Zazar had shown her once, long ago, in another life.
Obern's Rinbell sword hung at his side. Ashen walked with hirrl hand in hand, and they exchanged glances, smiling.
"You are my husband," she murmured, and he squeezed her fingers.
"Not yet," he said. "Forgive me, but I cannot wait a moment longer. The people celebrating won't miss us."
They entered the castle. When they reached a spot where the corridors branched, he swerved aside abruptly and, half running, led her, to the accompaniment of much good-natured laughter, raillery, and rustic jokes, out of the procession, down the hallway, and to the new apartment that had been set aside to them. Then he locked the door behind them and gathered her into his arms.
An hour later, with Ashen feeling as if her blushes would warm the entire castle even better than the fires roaring in the fireplaces, they joined the party in the Great Hall where the feasters were already at work on the platters of food.
The King and his new bride apparently had made their appearances and then left, but the Dowager was present and holding her own kind of court. Harous was there, of course, with Marcala hanging on his arm. He nodded at Ashen briefly, and murmured a perfunctory congratulation. The other woman looked her up and down, smiling knowingly at Ashen's late entrance, and her face grew even hotter. She was afraid Marcala would come up to her and make some untoward remark, but in-stead the lady clutched Harous's arm more tightly, and turned aside.
Ashen caught sight of Snolli and his retinue, crowded around the kegs of ale, and laughing at some joke known only to them. She hoped it wasn't about the—she had to admit it—somewhat rude introduction to married life that she had just undergone.
Obern's friend Lathrom was with t
hem, his demeanor easy and free. Obviously he had been accepted completely by them all. In the loft, the orchestra struck up a tune. Nobody was on the floor yet for, according to custom, the bridal couple led the first dance.
"One only, and then I'll beg off," Obem said. "But you enjoy yourself. I know how you love it."
He led her out to the middle of the floor, and other couples— led by Harous and
Marcala as befitted his rank—immediately lined up behind them. Then they began to tread the stately and sedate measures of a popular dance.
Obern did well enough, but Ashen knew that he had no real talent or love for it, the way she did. And so when the dance had concluded, he bowed over her hand and went to join his father and his companions. Another man immediately presented himself.
"May I have the honor?"
Ashen saw that this one had chosen to dress himself top to toe in spring green.
Suddenly, unbidden, the entire memory of that long-ago evening swam before her eyes. Her Protector, Zazar, had brought out a knotted ball of cords, and pulled forth four, seemingly at random. She had always wondered why. Now, with a start,
Ashen realized that Zazar had been seeking knowledge of the future.
"Queen," Zazar had said, indicating the brightest of the three gold cords.
"King." The dullest. "Prince." That was the thinnest of them all, lacking many knots and none evidently intricate. Then she had picked up the green thread.
"Kin unknown."
Ashen remembered the Wysen-wyf's next words so clearly she could almost hear them. "The times swing us along more swiftly. It is not your clan color, but you are green, yes. Untaught in much, yes." She had picked up the green cord and begun running it along between thumb and forefinger. It was slender, hardly thicker than the one she had named Prince, and the knots on it were also few.
But of those several were doubled and redoubled.
As Zazar held each of those knots, for an instant, Ashen thought she felt pressure at the nape of her neck as if those strong old fingers had gripped her instead. A tingle of excitement, faint but definite, had spread through her whole body, and she felt a repeat of it now.
The green should have stood for Obern, she thought. But it did not. Why? What cruel joke of fate was this? "Who are you?" she said, half-dazed.
"I am the Nordorn ambassador and my name is Count Gaurin. I already know yours.
Please, Lady Ashen, will you dance?"
"Of course," she said through lips even number than they had been during the wedding ceremony. He took her hand and the tingle deepened. As if she were a jointed doll, she went through the movements of the dance. Then she stumbled, for his presence was making her dizzy enough to fear that she might faint.
"Are you ill?"
She glanced at him, blinking. "I—I don't think so. But the crowds, all the commotion—"
"And I daresay you have eaten nothing this day."
"I couldn't."
"Please. Let me find you a place to rest, away from so many people, and I will bring you a plate and something to drink."
She started to refuse him, but looking into his eyes, could not. If anything, he was even more handsome than either Harous, whom she had thought the best-favored of men, or Obern. Her husband. A strong and comely man. She tried to summon up his image, the red-gold hair and eyes the color of the sea, to set in front of the vision of the man she was looking at, but the effort failed.
This one was lean of face, with chiseled, aristocratic features. He had hair the shade of honey, darker than her own, eyes a shade halfway between green and blue, and his skin was the sort that turned brown under the sun. In spite of the unseasonable weather, his face was burnt, most agreeably, darker than his hair.
There was a grace to his movements, strangely complimentary to his obvious physical strength. She thought she could never have enough of looking at him, and brought herself back to reality only with an effort.
"Yes, yes, thank you. A slice of cold fowl, and some spiced apple juice, please.
I gave orders to the chef, to have some made for me."
He led her to an alcove, half-hidden from the room, and pulled up a couple of chairs and seated her in one. "I will return at once," he said.
Ashen stared through the bubbled and wavery glass of the window, seeing nothing.
Scarcely aware of what she was doing, she ran her hand over her body. She could still feel the touch of her new husband's fingers imprinted there, awakened by her gesture. How could she look at this—this stranger, and know that what she felt, seeing him, was only a pale imitation of the ecstasy that awaited her when, if—
She shut off the thought with an effort. No, she told herself. No. This was a delusion, an effect of the strain of the past days on an overheated imagination.
Couple that with not having eaten—she remembered now, for nearly two days—and the brusque bedding of an hour previous, and what else could she expect? She willed her breathing to calm, her heartbeat to quit pounding in her throat. She hoped that the Dowager could not see her. Or Lady Marcala.
Then Gaurin was standing beside her, and all her resolution trembled, ready to crumble at a word or even a glance. He sat down and handed her a platter containing a slice of pheasant, and several kinds of fruit. "You must eat lightly, lest you sicken," he told her. "You are very pale."
"And you are very kind," she said. She accepted the goblet of spiced juice and drank it at once. It helped. Then she began to nibble on the fruit. The meat could come later. "Thank you for taking me away before I could make a spectacle of myself."
"How could I not? Lady Ashen, we have but brief acquaintance, but somehow I feel that I have known you all my life. May I speak freely?"
"Of course," she said, both dreading and anticipating his next words.
"They say the Nordors are a cold people, but this is a claim made only by ignorant fools. When I first saw you, I felt a shock of recognition such as I have never known before. I know that is ridiculous, but it is so. And that was even before I saw this." He indicated her bracelet. "Where did you get it?"
She stared at it, at first not remembering that she had chosen to wear it this day of all days. "I found it." She described the circumstances.
"The man was not buried, you say."
"No. He was only a skeleton by the time I got there. I saluted his memory, and in some strange way he seemed to give me this bracelet. It was the finest thing
I had ever owned, up to that time. I have kept it carefully, even though I do not wear it often."
He caught her hand and touched the bracelet on her arm. "It belonged to my father."
She gazed at him, not trying to retrieve her hand from his grasp. "Then it is yours, an artifact of your house," she said. She took off the ornament and handed it to him.
"An artifact of a mystery I may solve someday." He held the bauble loosely, not looking at it. "Ashen—"
He leaned closer. Another moment and their lips would meet. Scandal} She tore herself away, forced herself to turn aside. "Sir, you presume too much."
"Do I? Or do I only recognize what is so clear that even a child would know? The moment I saw you, I loved you, in the way that songs tell about, when Fate has ordained the meeting. And I do not think my love goes unrequited. Tell me, lady, is this true?"
She could not lie to him, even if she wanted to. Recklessly, she replied. "Yes.
But it is folly, it is madness."
"It is what my people call the sunburst at midnight," Gaurin said. "Sometimes it happens to one, sometimes to the other, rarely to both. But, as we know, it does happen. And it is neither folly nor madness, but the coming together of two souls that have loved each other throughout time and have been separated for a while. I have known you, lady. I have known you."
"And I have known you. May every power in this world and any other help me, for this cannot be. I am married—"
"Truly, lady? You do know what I am asking, don't you? If you are not truly his wife, n
ot yet, the marriage can be set aside. It is easily done. As for any objections the King or the Dowager might have, I rank even higher than does
Obern of the Sea-Rovers, and an alliance with our people is as important as theirs with the Ren-delians, if not more so. And even if that were not the case,
I love you and know that you love me—"
"I am truly his wife."
Gaurin's words died on his lips, and with them all the animation that had possessed him before. He just looked at her, his heart in his eyes. "How is this possible?"
Ashen's face flamed hot. She stared down at her platter. The slice of pheasant might as well be putrescent, for all the appetite she had for it. Her body, where the touch of Obern's hands still lingered—