Mia wasn’t sure she did. Once the letter was read, it couldn’t be unread, and if it revealed something dreadful about Tella… So tempting to toss it into the fire and be rid of it. Yet there were still unanswered questions about Tella’s death, like why she had ridden north instead of south, and that strange message she had written just before she died.
With trembling fingers, Mia unfolded the paper. Something fell out, a lock of hair so fair it was almost white, tied with a sliver of blue silk. “Oh, she kept a lock of the baby’s hair!” Mia cried, relief washing through her. Just a mother’s keepsake.
But no, that wasn’t right. Jinnia was a year old now, and her hair was still shorter than this, and finer, more delicate. Morsha’s silence confirmed it.
“It’s not the baby’s, is it? Then whose?”
“Read the message,” Morsha said softly.
Mia opened the paper fully. A strong hand, slanting across the page, and not one she recognised. At the bottom, instead of a signature, a single letter: I. She read aloud.
“My darling…” Her voice shook. A deep breath. “My darling, it seems an age since we were together. My life is unbearable without you, and especially with this wondrous news. You sound so calm, yet this is dangerous for you. Let me come for you, my love. Then we can be together always, we can raise…” Another deep breath. The paper quivered in her shaking hands. “…we can raise our child together…”
She dropped the paper, too distraught to read on.
Morsha picked it up, frowning as she tried to read it. “I can’t get every word, but the rest is just romantic nonsense. I… Do you know anyone whose name begins with an I?”
Mia shook her head. A thought struck her. “You’re not surprised by this.”
“That Tella had a lover? No. That she had a child by him?” Morsha gave a wry smile. “Everyone wondered about Jinnia’s colouring, of course. But still, I never thought Tella was quite that reckless. Is it the same for Karningholders?”
“The same?”
“The same penalty. At the start of the marriage, the Slaves gave all the Companions lectures about what was allowed and what wasn’t. Sleeping with any of the husbands or Companions was fine, but anyone outside the marriage— Mia, they told us we could be executed.” Morsha’s face was as white as snow.
“It’s the same for us,” Mia said. She rubbed her hands against her knees, rocking gently. “Worse, actually. If there’s an investigation, the culprit will be executed and the marriage broken. It’s seen as a failure of the whole marriage.” She shivered.
“If there’s an investigation?”
“That must have been the reason for that last interview. The Voices found out somehow, and summoned her for an investigation. But there’s always the option of— Oh!” She closed her eyes, exhaling deeply. “Suicide. The other option is suicide. Poor, poor Tella. She took her own life so that we wouldn’t be broken.”
“She was always brave,” Morsha said, patting Mia’s hand. “That’s a good way to remember her.”
“True.” Mia took a long breath, a tear trickling down one cheek. “But I don’t think we should tell anyone else about this.”
She tucked the lock of hair back into place and refolded the paper, then screwed it into a ball. With a flick of her wrist, she consigned it to the flames.
14: Sharing (Hurst)
There was always a burst of energy in the skirmishes after the winter quiet. The tournaments, the training, the interaction with other Skirmishers, not to mention a two month rest from the constant boundary patrols, brought everyone back to their Karnings full of ideas and enthusiasm.
Hurst was as energised as anyone else. His arrangement with Jonnor was working out better than he’d dared to hope. He had a free hand to deal with both boundaries as he pleased, and Jonnor was quite happy to make a quick trip north or south whenever Hurst needed him. Not every skirmish had been outstanding, but they had all been successful.
He was glad to be away from the Karninghold. Sharing the bedroom floor with Mia and Jonnor was trying. There were no doors, so there was no avoiding it; Jonnor’s footsteps crossing the atrium, soft noises and the odd word, mostly from Jonnor, and then the unmistakable sounds of a man taking his pleasure. And then the footsteps again as he left her. Hurst could never understand that; cuddling in bed afterwards was the best part of it. Well, almost. And he never heard the sounds he expected from her, which worried him a little. But then he had long known that Jonnor was not much of a lover.
Sometimes, when it got too much, he would creep downstairs and sleep in his old bedroom on the living floor. Most of his things had gone upstairs, but the bed was still there, with pillows and a few blankets. And there was a door. He could curl up in the familiar hollow in the mattress and pretend that nothing had changed. Sometimes he could even imagine that Mia was in her old bedroom, sleeping just the other side of the wall.
He could bear it because he now had Mia to look forward to. Jonnor had not given any indication how the sharing arrangement would work in practice. Hurst was not stupid enough to press for equal rights, or to expect any time with her while Jonnor himself was around. However, Jonnor would soon be leaving for the south for his own skirmish while Hurst would stay at the Karninghold, and that, he thought, would be a suitable time.
Jonnor was in a remarkably good frame of mind just now. It reminded Hurst of when they had first married; he had taken care of most of the skirmishes and Jonnor had been quite relaxed about it. Then after Tella’s first baby was born, about three years into the marriage, Jonnor became less even tempered. Now the easy-going Jonnor was back, and Hurst rather liked it. He supposed Jonnor was one of those men who were affected by the woman he was with. Tella was always unpredictable, and undoubtedly that had affected Jonnor, but now Mia’s sweet nature and gentle ways had brought him back to normality.
The second night he was home, Mia left after the meat to check on one of the children who had a bad spirit that day. Hurst and Jonnor were discussing the finer points of the strategy for the next skirmish. Jonnor was in a good mood, so it seemed a suitable time to broach the question on Hurst’s mind.
“So after this next skirmish, it will be your turn, brother. When you’re away, I’ll be here for five or six days. Is it all right if I spend time with Mia?”
“Hmm? What was that? Mia? What about Mia?”
“You’ll be away for a while, so you won’t have any objection, will you, if I have that time with Mia?”
Hurst had no reason to doubt the answer, so he was shocked when Jonnor’s head jerked up, brows drawn together.
“Mia? What are you talking about?”
“Well, now that we’re sharing her…”
“What gave you that idea? Oh, you thought—? We had an agreement, cousin, that hasn’t changed.”
And he laughed in Hurst’s face. In an instant, rage boiled inside him.
“No,” he whispered, then, more strongly, “No! You can’t just… Jonnor, have some compassion, for the Gods’ sake! Don’t ask me to sleep with her and then take her away again. I won’t interfere with you, but you must see…”
“Must!” His voice was soft, almost menacing. “Don’t you tell me what I must do! Don’t you ever do that, Hurst! I lead here, not you, I decide who sleeps with Mia, and don’t you forget it.” And then, to Hurst’s fury, he laughed again.
Hurst longed to beat Jonnor’s arrogant face to pulp. His fists clenched and unclenched as his rage warred with his common sense. In the end he turned and stormed out, trying not to slam the door and failing. He went to his old room, and hurled himself on the bed.
After a while, when he had calmed down, he went back to the main room. Jonnor was still hunched over the maps. Without looking up, he said, “Well, cousin, got over your huff, have you?”
Hurst was determined not to be riled again. “I would like to ask you to reconsider your position on the matter,” he said stiffly.
“I thought I made myself quite clear, cousin. W
e made a deal, remember? You take care of the lines, and I get exclusive rights to Mia.”
“True, but the situation has changed.”
Jonnor looked up at him, exasperation written on his face. “No, you simply performed a service for me, that’s all, and you did a fine job of it. Mia is much improved. But it changes nothing, nothing at all. We have an arrangement. The deal stands, and that’s the end of it.”
For a moment murderous rage flared again in Hurst, dying almost immediately, leaving him frozen into immobility, disbelieving, rigid with hatred. And not just on his own account, but for Mia, treated with such casual disdain by the very man she loved, the man who should cherish and protect her. But he was icy calm at last.
“No,” he said quietly. “No. This is not the end of it.”
He turned and walked out, leaving Jonnor gaping after him.
The next morning, before he left for the northern boundary, he went to the Karninghold Slave and asked for the blue arrows.
~~~
When Hurst returned to the Karning with his two Hundreds, the yard was full of Jonnor’s men gathering to depart. Jonnor was on the far side of the yard, already mounted. Hurst was not in the mood for pleasantries, so he raised his hand in greeting towards his co-husband and then rode straight into the stables. When he emerged later with Gantor, loaded with bags and swords, Jonnor was waiting for him.
“Ah, brother! I’m glad I caught you. I… I wanted to have a word.”
“Very well.” Hurst set down his gear and turned to face Jonnor, arms folded. Gantor lounged against the door post.
Jonnor shuffled his feet, glanced quickly at Gantor, then turned back to Hurst. “Look, I wanted… well, to explain. About Mia. I – Gods, Hurst, don’t look so thunder-faced. The Voices told me at my interviews that I should be more open with you, take you more into my confidence, so I’m trying to do that, understand? Treat you like a friend, in case – Well, you are a friend, aren’t you?”
Hurst tried to keep his face blank. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.
“Look, I’m sorry about Mia,” Jonnor rattled on. “Truly I am. I wish we could share her, but… I think it’s best if we don’t. My father always said there can only be one person making the decisions within a marriage, and that’s what I try to do. To make the best decisions for all of us. With Tella…” He chewed his lip, his cheeks reddening. “Tella led me a dance, you know. She said all sorts of things, to hurt me. That she had lovers, that sort of thing. She even said once that you – but I never believed that, never. She drove me insane, Hurst, and I don’t want that with Mia.”
“Mia’s not like Tella,” Hurst said, struggling to keep his voice level.
“No, no, of course not! That’s just it! I’d never have to wonder with Mia. Never have to worry if she’d – or whether the children were really mine. But I know how you feel, brother. I am sympathetic. So when we get to the fourth line and we have another pair, I’ll have the new wife and you can have Mia then. That’s what I’m planning. So that will be all right, won’t it?”
Hurst nodded and tried to smile, and Jonnor went back to his horse. There were shouted orders, horns blew and the melee of wheeling horses settled into orderly lines. Through the noise, the drumming of hooves, the choking dust, Hurst stood motionless. Eventually, only the usual stable yard bustle remained.
“You do realise,” Gantor said quietly, “that he’s worried about you asking for the blue arrows? That’s why he’s sharing his thoughts with you all of a sudden.”
Hurst grunted. “It’s a bit late for that.”
“There’s still time to cancel your request. If you know you only have to wait a year, and then you’ll have Mia – Does that make a difference?”
“NO!” He hadn’t meant to shout. Heads turned in surprise, and he saw Gantor’s eyes widen. He went on more quietly, “I’m done with waiting. Ten years I’ve been patient, and let him do what he wanted, and said nothing. I’m sick to the heart of waiting.”
“But Mia—”
“This is not about Mia. It’s about taking control of my own life. It’s about being in charge and making my own decisions and not letting a weakling like that push me around anymore. I’ve been a mouse for too many years. But no longer. Let’s have the blue arrows and settle this once and for all.”
Gantor nodded, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Good. You realise he’ll send for his own blue arrows?”
“Of course. Now, let’s go and get ourselves clean, and then tomorrow you can jog down to the southern boundary to keep an eye on him. I think he understands the strategy, but his potential for bungling is unbounded.”
~~~
Hurst was subdued the first evening alone with Mia. He had no doubts that his decision was the right one. As soon as he’d asked for the blue arrows, all the misery inside him had melted away. At last the corroding rivalry between Jonnor and himself could be dealt with.
He had no illusions about the effect of it. If the Gods deemed it appropriate, he would get his blue arrows, and Jonnor would get a small vial of poison, so that he could take his own life if he preferred.
At that point, Hurst knew, the marriage would in effect be over. It could not survive one party trying to kill another. It would continue in law, of course, but nothing would ever be the same. Even if he was successful and Mia became his at last, she could surely never forgive him. If Jonnor sent for his own blue arrows, then he knew he faced his own death, and his Companions with him.
The joy of being back at the Karning with Mia again was also spoiled by thoughts of what might have been. For weeks he had anticipated this moment, believing he and Jonnor were sharing Mia, and this would be his time with her. Three days they’d had together, three glorious days and nights, which had been everything he could have hoped. How he’d longed for a little more of that magical intimacy. Now he had to sleep alone again.
Oddly, Mia seemed unlike her usual self too. She was jittery, chatting brightly but restless, unable to settle to anything, even a game of crowns. Missing Jonnor, most likely. She went to bed quite early.
Hurst followed her upstairs not long afterwards, prepared himself for bed and then settled in his room with a book, although he stared unseeing at the opened strips. He could not concentrate with so much going on in his mind, the future so uncertain. And beneath it all, he ached for Mia, longed to hold her in his arms again, to taste her sweet lips and touch her soft skin. He shook his head at his own weakness, and resolutely started reading the open strip again.
Then came a slight scratching at the screen, and Mia’s face appeared.
“Hello.” Her smile melted his heart. “May I share your fire? I’m so cold.”
“Well, of course.”
He folded away his book and tossed another log into the hearth, although there was a good blaze going already. She perched on the chair nearest the fire, and he sat down again, as far from her as he could get. No point tormenting himself by sitting beside her, not here in this room where so much had happened before.
To his surprise, she crossed the room and curled up beside him on the sofa, lifting his arm to get close to him and wrapping her own arm around his waist.
He tried hard not to breathe, sitting immobile and terrified, in case she suddenly moved away again and left him bereft. It was almost more than he could bear, after the weeks of joyous anticipation, then the abrupt end to those hopes, and now, here she was, cuddling up to him.
He could feel the warmth of her body against his, for she wore only a thin robe. He told himself sternly that she was just a naturally affectionate person, it meant nothing, and tried to suppress the automatic responses of his body.
Just as he was beginning to accustom himself to this new friendly Mia, and believe that he could sit motionless all night if necessary, she tilted up towards him, her face alight with mischief. She reached up to stroke his face with a delicate finger, and stretched a little to kiss him softly on the lips.
He dared not move, let
ting her do whatever she wished to him. What she wished, it seemed, was very much what he wished himself. He was helpless to stop her. For the briefest moment the thought crossed his mind that this was not going to go down well with Jonnor, but her tongue was in his mouth, her hand was stroking his inner thigh, and he was on fire for her.
After a while, she pulled open his robe and reached for him, but he grabbed her hand and drew it to his lips.
“No need,” he said, a little breathless. “You already have my full attention.”
She giggled then, and kissed him again. Then before he knew what she was doing, she was astride him, and rubbing herself against him, moaning softly, while he sat delirious with astonished disbelief, too delighted to protest. When she slid him inside herself, it was too much and he came almost at once.
“Gods! I’m so sorry!” he gasped. “Give me a little time to recover…”
She said nothing, but her face was white with disappointment.
“Or I could kiss you there?”
“Oh, yes!” she breathed. “Please!”
So he did.
Then they went to bed and did it all again.
15: Rituals of Death (Mia)
It was only the fourth time Mia had awoken beside Hurst, but already it felt like a familiar routine. He was awake first this time, smiling at her as she opened her eyes, lifting his arm as she rolled across the bed to cuddle him. Such a sweet man, and so good-natured. He was nothing to look at, but he had a lovely smile and she liked his strong, muscular arms. When he held her, she always felt safe and protected.
“You’ve slept for hours,” he said into her hair. “You must have been tired.”
She had been, she realised. For weeks now she had been on edge each night, wondering whether Jonnor would come to her bed, what he would expect of her, whether she was managing to keep him happy. And then, somehow, she would lie awake for hours afterwards, with no idea why, but increasingly restless. If she loved Jonnor less she would suspect that there was something lacking in their relationship, but how could that be?
The Plains of Kallanash Page 14