He held her at arm's length for a long moment. A strange light glittered in his eyes betraying some inner torment.
"No, I could never have done it," he said suddenly, and he turned away with eyes suddenly hard with anger.
They went into the inner room, where a fire in the grate was putting out some warmth to cut the damp chill. Aeswiren stood in front of the fire and held his hands up to warm them.
"Ah, that's good. There's nothing like the cold of the sea in winter. Gets right through to the bone, eh?"
Nuza had to agree. Rat Island was hardly cosy. "But this room is always warm," she said, taking a seat near the fire.
"Well, you wouldn't have liked it the way it was before I had it repaired." He chuckled to himself. Above their heads the wind howled through the rafters.
"I have been pleased well enough here. I like it better than the rooms in the city."
"Yes, I expected you would like it here after being cooped up there."
"I have run to the top of both crags."
He laughed. "And I should have expected you'd do that. I bet that surprised young Galluk and Kimil."
"Kimil said that I should not go outside because I am female. He said I should wear a long black cloak down to the ground at all times for the same reason."
"Ah, yes, well, my dear, you do not yet understand the way our culture works. Kimil meant no harm, he thought he was protecting you. Women are not meant to go outside. They have no reason to go there. Woman's world is within the house of men. Men deal with the outside world, and when they go to their homes their women serve them. That is the way we are in Shasht."
"That is not the way we are in my homeland." In her anger Nuza had reverted to her own language.
"Yes, I understand that. I find it very hard to accept, but Simona said it was that way and I believe her."
"No mor alive would consent to be shut up in her home like a prisoner!" Nuza's eyes flashed and Aeswiren marveled at the beauty of her anger.
A head poked around the door. Klek.
"Lord, there is hot porridge and butter."
"Good, Klek, I will have some of that and some salt fish, too. And bring me a cup of ale if there is any."
Klek disappeared again.
Aeswiren, warmth returned, undid the straps that secured his jerkin and let it fall open. It was good to get out from under all those heavy clothes. He pulled off the kerchief he'd tied around his neck to keep out the wind on the Zuppe.
Nuza saw the top of the bandages that were wrapped around his chest.
"My lord, you have been hurt!"
"Aye." There was no point denying it. He was touched by her concern.
"What happened?"
"Well, we've had a little bit of treachery. For the moment I am on the defensive."
"The wounds?"
"Are healing. The good doctor Biswas took care of them."
"He is a great man, I think."
"You are correct. He will bring about a revolution in the history of the world, but only if I live and triumph over my enemy."
Nuza looked down into the fire for a moment.
"What will happen?" she said in a quieter voice.
"In the city I imagine they are anointing my son, Aurook, to take my place. My enemy found ways to corrupt him years ago. Aurook will do my enemy's bidding. The Empire will not suffer that much—Aurook's cruelty will only be felt by a few—but the changes that I had hoped to bring about will not take place."
Aeswiren had dropped his head almost to his massive chest while he spoke. Suddenly he shook himself free of the despondent fog.
"But the game is not over. Nor have I played all my cards." He turned to her, he realized he'd been speaking to himself in Shashti, her eyes were filled with questions. He returned to the pidgin between Shashti and the tongue of the Land that they had evolved between them.
"We will be safe here, but my enemy will pick up my trail eventually. Before then, we'll be gone from here. Captain Moorsh should be here tomorrow sometime. He commands the Duster. Very fast ship. We will be in Gzia Gi in a week, and there I will see about turning this situation around."
Klek reappeared with a tray. Aeswiren lit up as he contemplated the hot food and a hefty mug of red ale.
"Another thing this sea air does is stir up a man's appetite."
"A good thing because the food is very plain."
"Hah, plain you call it? It's perfectly horrible, but it is food."
"Yes, it is better than to go hungry."
"And after I've eaten some perhaps we shall go and walk up one of these hills, eh, and you can tell me more about your homeland. I have missed our talks."
"Yes, my lord, I will be happy to do so."
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The Festival of First Snow was going very well, although snow seemed quite unlikely. Simona had received seven invitations, one for every important day of the festival. In addition, she was going to host a small dinner party for several close relatives on the Gsekk side. The party would be held on the third night of the festival, traditionally a quiet night, the least important of the seven nights of the main festival. So it was the perfect time for her own small affair, held in part to commemorate her mother, poor Chiknulba, who had died of the plague in a far-off land.
Fortunately, her haughty relatives had accepted her invitations, which had been a great relief, though she suspected that Aunt Piggili might have applied a little pressure in that regard. Simona knew that her status as a girl with a strawberry birthmark on her breast was decidedly low among the Gsekk clan. The consensus was that Chiknulba had married beneath herself socially. Her husband was a sawbones of some sort, who had some kind of naval connection, and the Gsekk were not much involved in the navy, which was felt to have much less glamour than the army. Aunt Piggili was a great ally, however, and her opinion had high status.
But all that was still days away. First there was The Last Night of the Year, which was always the time for the grandest events of all. Lord Iblesse of Fex held a huge party. Simona had been invited and on entering had been embraced by Lady Yeleema, hostess of Fex. Such marks of social favor had been rare and far between in Simona's life. A part of her treasured them, while another part despised them.
The party was held in a great room divided into two sections by a gauze curtain hung down the middle of the ceiling. The men were on one side, the women on the other. The filmy gauze made it impossible for a man to clearly see the face of any of the women present. They could converse freely through the screen, of course, and even pass written notes to each other, but the rules of purdah were enforced.
At such festival gatherings among the elite, it was customary for young men to pass notes to the most desired young women, begging for the chance to view their bodies with an eye to marriage. Young women expected to be so courted and were ready to reply, often with withering contempt. Of course, Simona knew that she would not receive such notes of desire. She had been viewed by eleven men already and was unwed. The strawberry mark was a well-known mark of witchery. No man of her own class would want her.
She found it galling that sitting just on the other side of the gauze were several young men who had examined her body, the precursor to a marriage bid, but had refused to bid afterward. "Nibbling the apple" it was called and was a mark of shame. These young men had enjoyed seeing her naked body and then had refused her because of the strawberry mark.
They took no notice of the minor announcement of her arrival with her friends.
However, other men did take notice. Messages were passed in to her from two of her Gsekk uncles. They wanted to hear all about the new world and also about the sad death of Chiknulba. She drew close to them, with just the screen separating them.
"A delightful little thing, was Chiknulba," said old Hermeez. "Sorry to hear she'd died like that. Married some awful naval sawbones I heard. Lived in Shasht, can you imagine? Awful business."
Simona decided not to remind old uncle Hermeez that she wa
s a product of the marriage to the "naval sawbones" and also lived in the city of Shasht. Some things were better left unsaid.
Then there were other men, friends of her father's. "He would have come," she said of Filek's absence. "He wanted to, but the work on the micro-scope is at a delicate stage. He cannot leave it. The Emperor himself has insisted that it be completed soon."
Describing the micro-scope to some of the older, and dimmer relatives was a trial.
"Look at things that you can't see? What's the point of that?" was a common reaction.
The gong announced the dinner prayers. A Gold Top appeared to say the prayers and blessings, then the slaves began bringing in the endless procession of dishes. Singers and musicians took their station in the "cradle," a cage to keep them separate from the women. The musicians played a different piece to herald each of the "great courses" as it was brought in. Each piece was selected to evoke something of the dish.
Thus the great pie of lark's tongues was accompanied by frantic flutes and a whistling tune evoking the timeless nature of the life of birds in the marsh reeds. Then for the great moogah of beef and chestnuts there was a song from a male choir in praise of He Who Eats.
During the dinner Simona was seated with her onetime "best friend" Jounni of Gsekk. Jounni was of the senior branch of the family, who still lived in the family heartland of Bilerr. For Jounni to take notice of a social nobody like Simona was unusual, and rather generous. Jounni's other friends, of course, were rather cool toward Simona, but Jounni took no notice of them. She and Simona had always been close.
"My dear"—Jounni had had several glasses of wine by this point—"I can assure you that being wedded is no bed of roses. Men are exactly the beasts we pictured when we were young."
Among Jounni's affectations was the idea that she was now mature, at the tender age of twenty. And had thus put a great distance between herself and the giggly teenage girl she had been when Simona and she had been rebels together.
Jounni was now securely wed to a young lordling of the Hob clan, Rujus Imagger. She had spent the last few years having two children and enduring the passions of Rujus.
"Every night, ev-er-y night, for months he would come and molest me. It was appalling."
For Simona, who had never even known the touch of a man's hand in passion, it didn't sound quite so appalling, but she kept such thoughts to herself.
"I'm so sorry," said Simona, feeling out of place suddenly.
"Oh, Simona, sometimes I think you have the better life. Being alone and not having to endure the things that men want to do! Ugh. It's all so disgusting."
Simona sipped her wine. If it was all so disgusting, then why did she want to do these disgusting things? Was she a freak? She didn't think so. She'd read all the Love Sonnets, including Harumi's so she knew what was involved. There again she'd seen horses and dogs doing it, so it was clearly a universal thing, as it had to be if the creatures of the world were to reproduce their kind.
"Does it still, ah, distress you that you have to sleep with your husband?"
"Distress? Dear God, you have no idea. You have been protected, my child, you have been saved from, from... Well, I will have to whisper the details." Jounni moved closer.
But Simona was saved from these ignoble revelations by a sudden interruption. A wave of whispers hurried along the tables, across the room. Chairs crashed in the men's section. A voice was heard shouting, "Noooooo!"
"What?" Jounni was left hanging, unhappy at being interrupted in her complaint.
"What is it?"
And then came the words that ripped Simona's world apart. Jounni leaned over to Kedess Bemmertruben. A moment later Jounni leaned back, wide-eyed with shock.
"Aeswiren has fallen. The Emperor has fled Shasht. Aurook has been crowned."
A chill pierced Simona's heart. If the Emperor had fled the city, then her father was in great danger. Unless he, too, had fled. Unfortunately, there was no way to know. It could even be dangerous to ask too many questions.
The news from Shasht was fatal to Lord Iblesse's festival party. Some of the more important guests left at once, since they had military demands at such a time. Others drifted off as well, concerned about organizing an immediate move to the city. With a new Emperor on the throne, it paid to be close to the imperial court, ready to safeguard one's own position.
Lady Yeleelm tried to keep some sort of spirit going. For a while the tongues wagged furiously as the "I told you so" party had its say. Aeswiren had not paid enough attention to religious duties. He had not been seen in the temple for many years. The Great God would not be denied forever!
Others argued more gloomily that Aeswiren's real fault had been good governance, which had upset the priests, for it left them more exposed for the expensive, wasteful luxury that they were.
Those who were the most closely identified with Aeswiren and his grand project of repeating the prosperous era of Norgeeben had gone quiet, withdrawn into their own thoughts. A dangerous time lay ahead. Aurook was hardly the popular choice for the next Emperor. Repression would be intensified. Red Tops would visit households to seek out the impure of thought. Anyone with close affinities for Aeswiren's regime would be at risk.
Aunt Piggili caught Simona's eye, and Simona hurried to her side, where the table had partly emptied upon the astonishing news from the city. Piggili was plainly very worried.
"Simona, dear, your father..."
"I know, dearest aunt, I know. I pray that he had time to go into hiding."
"As bad as that, then?"
"Yes, Aunt. The priests do not want his work to continue. He threatens their grip on the Empire. He will be on their lists."
Piggili shuddered. She had been in the city once when the Red Tops went on a purge. It was before Aeswiren, in the time of Shmeg. The excuse was the hunt for the heretics of Xamf. Those same heretics that later challenged Aeswiren and were destroyed for it. But the Red Tops had used the excuse to burst into the homes of the well-to-do, who were known for their attachment to liberal causes. With malicious glee the Red Tops had smashed statuary and damaged wall hangings, letting the liberal lords and ladies know that the priests had their number and that one day, someday, there would be a reckoning. Piggili would never forget the horror of that time when she had hid from the rampaging young thugs as they tore up her parents' house.
"What will you do, girl?"
"I do not know yet, dearest aunt. I expect I will try and hide. But why would they come after me? I am not a scientist."
"But you are a heretic! Believe your ancient aunt when she tells you that they will want to kill all the heretics. This will be their best chance for years."
"What of yourself, dear aunt? Will you stay at the zob?"
"Only for the festival. Then I will go to Baldeberr to be closer to my other kin. It will be safer for me, I think."
The party ended early. Simona left when she detected signs that the main crowd was about to depart. She rode back alone in her carriage to the zob, thinking furiously the whole way.
The fact that she was at the zob for the festival had been accepted as perfectly commonplace behavior by everyone she knew. She caused less stir this way than by trying to hide at the zob and starting slaves' tongues wagging. The rumor mill was a constant fact of life among the zobbi. But if Aeswiren had really fallen from power, then everything had changed. If she stayed at the zob, she might draw the attention of the local priests, who would be eager to suppress heresy and deviation. If she hid herself too obviously, that would also cause comment and might even motivate some disgruntled slave to speak to the priests about her. Either course might be dangerous.
She would have to make a very careful decision. She decided to sleep on it, and study it all carefully the next day before doing anything.
She could also plan to go into hiding, in case it became necessary. Faithful Shalee would help. Hilltop House would be the best place. Close, it was hidden in winter by miles of deep snow, but she would nee
d supplies taken up there. Flour, oil, dried beans, sausage, all these things needed to be brought secretly. Gods, she realized, Shalee would be essential. Fortunately, Shalee could be trusted with one's life, the old eunuch was utterly faithful to Filek and Chiknulba, and by extension to Simona. But beyond Shalee, others would have to know: the drovers who took donkey loads up to Hilltop, the housekeepers who would clean and set up the rooms. The house had been shut down for winter, of course. It was only opened up in the summer. Simona could not do these things for herself. She would have to travel up there in the purdah carriage and stay hidden out of sight.
Preoccupied with these thoughts, she hardly noticed the dark clouds blowing in from the southwest. A wind picked up as they turned onto the road that ran alongside the Lake of the Woods. Now waves rolled across the lake, and the stars disappeared under the first tendrils of the clouds.
But when they turned into the zob and felt the sudden chill in the wind, she knew things were changing.
"There may be snow yet. Perfect for the festival," said Shalee as he escorted her inside the house.
Snow would keep the Red Tops in their chapter houses, for a while at least. It would gain her some time.
"A messenger has come from your father."
Shalee handed her the letter from Filek and discreetly left her alone.
She broke the seal and read the words, then consigned it to the fire as she was bidden. She knew how dangerous such a letter could be now.
"I will speak to the messenger," she told Shalee.
In his message Filek had expanded on her need to hide. Hilltop would not necessarily be enough.
She entered the purdah box and sat beside the slot. She heard the door open, and the young man was shown inside. He took his seat on the other side of the inch-thick wood that protected her from view, or any other act of maleness.
"Thank you for bringing that message."
"My duty, ma'am."
"What will you do now? Return to the city?"
"Your father said it would be best if I did not. He suggested that I go to my own hometown, Turz."
The Shasht War Page 32