by Jo Walton
“Nothing you don’t know. Just the cold, and Wontas being hurt.” Sher frowned. “Try to keep them warm if you can.”
“I’ll do my best,” Selendra said. She had never before seen Sher when he was so serious.
“And Selendra,” he said, taking a step closer. She trembled, but did not retreat. “I wanted to say I think you’ve coped with all this marvellously.”
“So have you,” she said, meaning it. “I don’t know how you did that flight, not knowing what was there.”
“Luck,” he said, smiled, and took another step towards her. He was now so close as to be almost touching her. She did not move. She knew what he intended, but her mind flashed back to Frelt, to Amer’s potion, to the talk of numbers. “You were wonderful, keeping the children’s spirits up, and doing it all without complaining. I can’t think of a better dragon to be lost in a cave with, and indeed, I can’t think of a better dragon to spend my life with. What do you say?”
Selendra looked down along the length of her scales. They remained plainly and uncompromisingly gold. Her protestations that she did not wish to marry seemed thin in her own eyes, looking at Sher, so strong and handsome and certain beside her. She could almost feel the warmth of his body. Her heart was beating strongly enough to make her feel faint, but she cast another despairing look down and still she was gold, stubbornly maiden pale.
“Selendra?” Sher said, questioningly, for she had not spoken.
“Your position, mine, your mother, my brother,” she said, in more than a little agitation. “I do not think you would find that we suit each other.”
“But I can deal with my mother, soon she will love you as a daughter. As for the rest it is nonsense, you are gently born and your nephews have just found you a fortune,” Sher said, gently, putting his claw out towards her. “I love you. If you—”
“You have your answer,” she said, roughly, stepping away deliberately. “Now I know you would not make my life difficult by pressing me on the mountainside when we are still dependent on each other to return to the protection of our families.”
“Of course not,” he said. “But Selendra—” It had hardly occurred to Sher, who had been pursued by maidens and their mothers ever since he grew wings, that the one maiden he wanted could reject him.
“Please don’t press me,” she said, taking refuge in coldness though her heart was breaking and her eyes were full of tears. “Go and get the basket. Please, Sher.”
He rose into the air and caught the wind, turning as he rose. She watched him out of sight, but still she could not cry, because now the children were there and their questions had to be answered. She looked once more at her traitorous scales which, if they had followed her heart would have been as pink as the wing of cloud that rose above the ridge ahead, where still the stones kept as unnaturally still as if they had no power of movement. She stared hard at the stones while she dealt with the children, hoping to catch just one of them moving. Her eyes whirled faster and faster, but still she was gold, and still the rocks kept their places for all of the small eternity until Sher came back with the basket.
42. CONVERSATION IN THE PLACE
Three days after the dramatic rescue of Wontas, Exalt Benandi sent down a note by a servant, summoning Felin to come alone for an audience. Felin was always in and out of the Place, hardly a day went by when she did not make some call, formal or informal, on the Exalt. It was rare, however, for the Exalt to demand that she call without providing a reason. Felin received the note at breakfast without remark, merely telling Penn that the Exalt needed her. This was so common an occurrence that Penn scarcely looked up from his own letters to note it. Felin looked at him, consideringly, and then turned her gaze on Selendra, who was reading a letter and eating mutton with an air of being about to dissolve into tears. It was far more likely Selendra than Penn whose behavior had caused this summons. “Alone” was certainly meant to ensure the absence of one or the other of them. She could think of nothing Penn might have done recently to earn the disapprobation of his patroness. Selendra, however, might well have. Felin had spent the time since the disaster of the picnic largely concerned with the well-being of Wontas, who seemed to be recovering, though he still talked of nothing but treasure. Now she considered Selendra. She had come back shaken by her ordeal, far more tremulous and tearful than Felin would have imagined such a trial would have made her.
“I will see to the dragonets before I go up,” she said. “Will you be going out today, Penn?”
“I need to reply to this letter,” he said, frowning over it. “I’ll be in my study.”
“Shall I need to write for you?” she asked.
“No, I’ll do it myself, or if it’s too much, Selendra shall do it,” Penn said, managing a half smile, though his eyes still whirled too quickly for his wife to believe that he was calm. Felin decided to leave him alone with his trouble, he would bring it to her if he thought she could help.
“Then will you help Amer with the dragonets unless Penn needs you, Selendra?” Felin asked. Selendra looked up dreamily. She had clearly not been paying any attention at all to the conversation. Felin patiently repeated everything and waited until Selendra gave her assent. Then she set her little green topper on her head and flew up the cliff to the Place.
Sher was not sitting on the ledge that morning. Indeed, the snow on the ledge was largely uncleared, indicating that he had not sat there for a day or two. Felin frowned as she picked her way over it, leaving clear tracks behind her. She wondered very much what it was the Exalt wanted.
The Exalt was waiting for her in the lesser Speaking Room, not in her office. She was sitting comfortably couchant along the wall. “Felin, my dear,” she said in greeting. “How lovely to see you.”
“What can I do for you, Exalt?” Felin asked.
“I just wanted to have a few words,” the Exalt said, gesturing. Felin obediently sat. “Can I offer you a bite?”
“We just had breakfast,” Felin said, waiting for the Exalt to begin on whatever was troubling her.
“I’ve decided to go to Irieth early this year,” she said.
Felin’s eyes sped up a little. The Exalt hated Irieth, and rarely went there a day before the fashionable time. “In Thaw?” she suggested.
“No, earlier than that,” the Exalt said, looking away from Felin. “In Icewinter, or maybe even before the end of Freshwinter.”
“So you are planning to spend almost the whole winter in the city?” Felin asked, knowing she wasn’t hiding her astonishment.
“Yes, I know,” the Exalt said, spreading her hands in helplessness, and answering Felin’s thoughts rather than her words. “I do hate Irieth, and I never leave home in the winter. It’s Sher.”
“Sher?” Felin echoed, puzzled. Sher rarely spent much of the winter in Benandi anyway, but why did it concern his mother? “Does he want to go to Irieth?”
“No, he wants to stay here.” The elderly dragon put her great ruby-red head down between her hands for a moment, as if the weight of it was too much to support, then she looked up at Felin again. “That’s why I need to go to Irieth, for he can hardly stay here without me.”
“I don’t understand,” Felin said, though she was beginning to wonder if she did.
“This is very difficult,” Exalt Benandi said. “My dear, without meaning the slightest disparagement of yourself, or your husband, or indeed of his sister, I have to ask you to keep Selendra away from the establishment until I get Sher away from here. He has taken it into his head to fall in love with her, and I know you haven’t done anything to encourage it, nor Penn. I’m inclined to lay at least half the blame with Sher.”
“Half?” Felin said, drawing herself up sejant. “I don’t think Selendra would have done much to encourage him.”
“Well it’s natural for any young maiden, with an unmarried Exalted lord, I’m sure,” the Exalt said. “But I’m sure you can see why it won’t do.”
“I don’t see at all,” Felin said, feeli
ng a little hurt on Selendra’s behalf. “She comes of good family, she’s Penn’s sister, she has an adequate dowry—”
“You can’t call sixteen thousand crowns adequate for Sher,” said the Exalt, though Felin knew there was no real reason why Sher needed to marry for money.
“Adequate, if not spectacular,” Felin said. “It might not be what you’d have chosen, but I don’t see why it would be such a disaster, if she is the one Sher has chosen to love. If they care for each other, why shouldn’t they marry?”
“Sher is young and easily swayed. You know that.” The Exalt’s blue eyes whirled in a deeply agitated manner, but her hand gesture dismissed Sher’s choices.
Felin did know he was easily swayed. She remembered when Sher’s fancy had lighted briefly on her. After the first giddy moment she had known that he was a brother to her, and not a husband. Besides, she knew his mother would never countenance it, and that Sher would not, could not, fight his mother. She had been gently discouraging, and Sher had given way at the first opposition and his mother’s offer of a month hunting the high mountains. If Selendra was enough to make him offer battle to his mother then he must love her more than lightly.
“Besides,” the Exalt said, uneasily, going on although Felin had not spoken. “Sher will soon forget her if he is in Irieth seeing other maidens.”
“Not Gelener, I don’t think,” Felin said.
“Don’t be cruel, Felin. I already know that. But if he’s put in the way of a number of pretty maidens with well-formed tails and shining scales he’ll forget Selendra.”
“And Selendra?”
“She will forget him too. She must. She must turn her eyes to those of her own rank. It’s the way of the world. You know it and I know it.”
“What I know—” Felin broke off. She had remembered that she must on no account quarrel with the Exalt. She began again more gently. “Sher is old enough that you cannot make him do your bidding.”
“No, but I can distract him,” the Exalt said. “It seems that we have been lucky so far. He made advances to Selendra on the mountain, which she did not reciprocate.”
“Jurale’s mercy!” Felin said, astonished.
“Yes, I have been sending up thankofferings to Jurale myself,” the Exalt said, her eyes sharper now, mercifully deciding to regard Felin’s ejaculation as a prayer rather than a profanity. “She did not reciprocate it?” the Exalt said again, as a question this time.
“No, she is as pure a maiden gold as the day she arrived,” Felin said. “There’s no question of that.”
“Then we have no difficulties, except keeping them apart to thwart their affection at this stage,” the Exalt said. “Which means that when I invite you and Penn to the Place, while Sher is here and before we go away, please leave Selendra at home with the children.”
“I can’t,” Felin said, not knowing she intended to until the words were out. “It’s grossly unfair, Exalt, surely you see that. She has done nothing wrong, and you’re punishing her, and asking us to punish her, as though she had transgressed terribly.”
“I am merely asking you to leave her at home, and also to deny your door to Sher for the time being, though I doubt he would seek her out at the parsonage.”
“He will if he doesn’t find her here when he expects her,” Felin said. “I won’t encourage him to call, but I can hardly keep him out, have you forgotten he has every right to enter anywhere he wishes, as the Exalted Benandi?”
“He’s unlikely to go to those lengths,” the Exalt said, dryly. “Do you think he would come to consume the dragonet he risked his life to save?”
“That’s another reason I can’t refuse him entry,” Felin said. “I owe him so much gratitude for rescuing poor Wontas. It is for you to control your son’s movements, if you feel you have that right, but you cannot impose that on me in the circumstances.”
“I will tell Sher I think it unwise for him to see her,” the Exalt said, her snout wrinkled as if she could smell decaying venison. It had been years since she had been able to control Sher.
“Then I will promise you that I won’t leave him alone with Selendra in the parsonage, should he choose to visit,” Felin conceded.
“That will do,” the Exalt said, looking as if she had bitten into a spoiled preserve. “And leave her at home when you come to dinner.”
“I can’t do that either,” Felin said. “I can’t leave her at home as if she’s in disgrace.”
“I cannot have her here dangling under Sher’s snout like a tender morsel he longs to snap up,” the Exalt said.
“Then for the time being, until you choose to invite all of us, the three of us will remain at home,” Felin said.
The Exalt looked darkly at her, but Felin refused to shift her ground. The two stared into each other’s eyes, and though Felin was fond of her old guardian she felt she owed it to Selendra, and to Sher as well, the saviors of her hatchling, to stand firm. She held the Exalt’s gaze until the Exalt shook her head. “Very well,” she said. “I’m disappointed, Felin, but that will do. The sooner we go to Irieth the better.”
“I hope you have a very pleasant time there,” Felin said, dipping her head slightly. She turned and made her way out, leaving the Exalt alone and brooding over her son as she had done since he was in the egg.
Sher was waiting outside. “Has she forbidden you to bring Selendra here?” he asked, looking so miserable that Felin melted towards him completely and did not even call him a fool.
“I have said we’ll accept no invitations that are not for the three of us,” Felin said. “I’ve also said I’ll never close my establishment to you, but that I’ll not leave you alone with Selendra there.”
“I hadn’t thought she’d make it so difficult,” Sher muttered.
“Give it a little time. Give yourself a little time. You know how changeable you are,” Felin said.
“I’m not,” Sher growled. Felin just looked at him, memory in the depths of her gray eyes. “Oh Felin, I suppose I am. I didn’t mean to be cruel to you, and you gave me no encouragement.”
“I am very happily married to Penn,” she said. “But it might do you good to consider how long you mean this for, considering how opposed your mother seems to be.”
“You mean not see Selendra?”
“Stay here. Wait. If you still feel the same in two months, which would make it at Deepwinter Night, then I’ll take you seriously, and arrange for you to have some time alone with Selendra—outside. I didn’t promise anything about that. You can go flying together. But make sure you’re ready for the battle it’ll take with the Exalt.”
“I’ll wait,” Sher said, smiling. “I know I can. Thank you, Felin.”
Felin shook her head as she went out to the ledge. She had been giving way to him for years, as they had both been giving way to his mother for years. Habits could be very difficult to break.
43. CONVERSATION IN THE PARSONAGE
As soon as Felin left for the Place, Penn put down his letter and looked at Selendra.
“What possessed Avan to try to take Daverak to law? And what possessed you to join your name with him?” He sounded thoroughly irritated, and even a little worried.
“You agreed that Daverak had no right to eat as much of Father’s body as he did,” Selendra said, startled. “You were furious.”
“That’s different. That’s a family disagreement. Personally, yes, I agree, Daverak had no right. I argued as much at the time. But Selendra, taking him to law, taking the matter out of the family, exposes us in a way that is potentially most uncomfortable.” Penn looked at her helplessly. “Can he be persuaded to withdraw?”
“You can ask him, of course, but he seemed adamant that he would go ahead with it,” Selendra said. “It is Avan who was most harmed by Daverak.”
“I shall write straight away, refusing my cooperation,” Penn said. “You must do the same, withdrawing your name.”
Selendra bowed her head. “Haner urges the same,” she said, to
uching her fingers to the letter she had just received. “She says we will not be able to maintain our friendly intercourse unless I do.”
“Well, of course not,” Penn said.
Selendra felt the tears spilling out of her eyes and down her snout. “I couldn’t bear not to see Haner,” she said, the words catching in her throat.
“Then write and withdraw your name,” Penn urged.
“I suppose so. But poor Avan.”
“Poor Avan! Avan has started all this. He doesn’t understand what trouble he can cause. They want me to tell them everything Father said on his deathbed,” Penn said, tapping the letter on his knee. “Preposterous. Outrageous. Impossible.”
“Why?” Selendra asked.
“Why?” Penn’s eyes shifted from side to side uncomfortably. “His privacy, my position. It’s unthinkable.”
“I see,” Selendra said, although not knowing the circumstances of the confession, she did not see in the slightest why Penn could not simply tell them what they needed to know.
“I shall write to them myself, immediately,” Penn said, bustling out, flexing his claws in anticipation of the pen.
Selendra turned her attention back to the half-eaten mutton before her. She did not want it. She had barely been able to eat since Sher—since the rescue of Wontas. She had not seen Sher since their return. She had not been out of the parsonage. Penn and Felin had treated her extremely well, thinking the ordeal in the cave had exhausted her. They had both expressed their gratitude, and Felin had made Wontas thank her too. Nobody had pressed her to do anything she did not want to. She had even been able to escape the Firstday church service the previous day, though Penn had come and prayed with her in her bedroom. She had not minded that. She did not wish to neglect the gods, indeed she especially wanted to implore Jurale’s mercy. She had not wanted to go to church because she hadn’t wanted to see Sher.
One of the servants was peering around the doorway, to see if it was time to take the bones away. “I’ve finished,” Selendra said. The servant made a pleased bob, glad of the leftovers no doubt. Selendra drew herself to her feet, took up Haner’s letter, and went to look in on the dragonets.