Marion Zimmer Bradley's Darkover

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

  She smiled, and Rohana knew that the offer had been made at least partly in jest; but suddenly Rohana was seized by a great wild desire to ride south with Kindra as once she had done, on their quest to the Dry Towns, to leave all this behind her, and follow Kindra anywhere, even to the end of the world.

  “What a mad thought!” she said breathlessly, “but you make it sound very tempting, Kindra. I—” to her own shock and surprise her voice wavered, “I almost wish I could. Almost.”

  III

  A little after Kindra had left her, after Rohana had seen to the welfare of the younger children, and sought out Valentine in his nursery to make certain all was well with her fosterling, Gabriel came to her in the conservatory. He looked ill and tired, and Rohana’s heart when out to him as always.

  “Are you well, Rohana? You have been more sick with this pregnancy than any of the others. I did not know that, or I would have let you be.”

  She said irritably, “It is something late to think of that now.” At his crestfallen look she repented her cross tone and said, “All the same, I thank you for saying it now.”

  He said shyly, “I thank you for your graciousness to poor little Tessa this morning. Believe me, I would not have affronted you; I did not mean you to take it like that. But she is in trouble at home, and I did not think it right to leave her there to suffer when her trouble was all of my making.”

  Rohana shrugged. “You know perfectly well it matters nothing to me with whom—or what—you share your bed. As you made clear to me this morning, I am no good to you at present.” She did not hear the bitterness in her own voice until she had finished; and then it was too late.

  He reached impulsively for her hands and kissed them. “Rohana,” he said breathlessly, “you know very well you are the only woman I have ever loved!”

  She smiled a little and closed her hands over his. “Yes, my dear, I suppose so.”

  “Rohana,” he demanded impulsively, still breathless. “What has happened to us? We used to love one another so much!”

  She held his hands in hers.

  “I don’t know, Gabriel, she said, “perhaps it is only that we are both growing old.” She touched his cheek in a rare caress. “You don’t look well, my dear. Perhaps riding so early is not good for you. Are you still taking the medicine sent you from Nevarsin?”

  He shook his head, frowning. “It does me no good,” he protested, “and then when I drink wine, it makes me sick.”

  She shrugged. “You must do what you think best,” she said. “If you choose to have falling seizures rather than giving up drink, I cannot choose for you.”

  The impatient look she dreaded came over his face again; as always, if she spoke about his drinking he was angry. He said stiffly, “I came only to thank you for your kindness to Tessa,” and stormed away again.

  Rohana sighed and went to the little room where she went over the business of the farm each day with the steward. She let the nurse bring Valentine to play on the floor with his blocks; her own unborn child had recently begun to move in her body, and she thought about what it would be like to bring up another child. Perhaps this son she could shield a little from Gabriel’s influence, so that someday he could be some use to her on the estate; she did not feel she could trust either of the boys now. And Elorie was not old enough to know or care much about such things.

  She spent the morning discussing with the steward the wisdom of replanting resin-trees at this season against the added dangers of forest-fire if there were too many resin-trees; and the necessity of dealing with the forge-folk for metal to shoe the best of the riding-horses. Of necessity she had learned a good deal about the business of processing resins for paints and wood-sealers to keep wooden fences and buildings from rotting away; the high quality resins could only be processed from the trees whose presence brought the greatest dangers of forest fire.

  Not till late afternoon, when Valentine had been sent to the nursery for his supper of boiled eggs and rusks and a nap, was Rohana free to ride. She sent a message inviting Kindra to join her if she wished. She went quickly to her room and changed into a shabby old riding-skirt; when Kindra joined her, she found that she envied the other woman’s freedom of breeches and boots, remembering how she herself had worn them on her adventure with Kindra’s band.

  They were preparing to ride through the gates when Jaelle came into the stable in riding things.

  “Oh, please—may I ride with you?”

  The question had been addressed to Kindra; she turned to Rohana. “It is for your guardian to say.”

  Jaelle said sullenly, “You are my guardian,” but she turned politely to Rohana. “Please, kinswoman?”

  “Well, since you already have your riding things on—but we shall have no time for hawking; we will only be riding to the ridge to inspect the resin-plantings,” Rohana told her. “Come, if you can keep up.”

  Jaelle ran to lead out her horse.

  “Keep up with you? I will guarantee I can ride harder, faster, further than either of you—or both!” she exclaimed, jumping up swiftly into the saddle.

  “Oh, certainly you can ride harder and further than I can now, Jaelle—or any pregnant woman,” Rohana said, and pretended she did not see her ward’s grimace of distaste.

  “Doesn’t it make you angry to be tied down that way?”

  “Not a bit of it,” Rohana returned equably. “Remember this is my fourth child and I know what to expect. Come, let’s ride up toward the ridge; I need to see for myself what the winter has done to the resin-trees.”

  “Why doesn’t Dom Gabriel see to that?” Jaelle asked.

  “Because he has never had any kind of sense for business matters, Jaelle; do you think there is something wrong with the notion that a woman should administer the affairs of the Domain?”

  “No, certainly not; but he leaves it all to you, along with all the other things that everyone else agrees are your affair—caring for the house, the meals, the children—so that you do a woman’s work and a man’s, too—”

  “Because I have always been stronger than Gabriel; if I left it to him, all these things would be in a muddle and the estate in great financial difficulties. Or is it that you think I should make Gabriel diaper the babies and count linens, and perhaps bake bread and cake?”

  The picture that created in Rohana’s mind was so ludicrous that even Jaelle laughed.

  “I feel he should do his share,” Jaelle said. “If he does not, what good is a man, anyway?”

  Rohana smiled and said, “Well, my dear, it’s just the way the world is arranged.”

  “Not for me,” Jaelle said.

  “Would it surprise you, Jaelle, to know that when Gabriel was younger, before his health was so broken, he did indeed rock the children, sing to them, and get up with them at night so I could sleep? When we were first wed he was the kindest and most tender of fathers. He did not drink much then . . . .”

  Jaelle found that so disturbing that she changed the subject. “When do we go southward, Kindra, so I can take the Oath?”

  Kindra opened her mouth to speak, but Rohana said first, “Surely there’s no hurry. I had hoped you would give me as much time as you gave the Guild House, three years, to know what you want from life.”

  Jaelle’s eyes flamed.

  “No! You promised me, Kindra, that if I spent a year with my Comyn kinfolk, there would be no further delay. And I have given you a year, as you asked.” She added scowling, “You spoke to me, at that time, some fine words about honor and the value of your word.”

  Kindra sighed. “I am not trying to delay you, Jaelle. But I have pledged your kinswoman—who is my friend—that I will remain here until her child is born. You cannot take the Oath here.”

  Jaelle looked like a storm cloud. She said “Kindra—”

  “I know, I had perhaps no right to make such a pledge in view of my word to you,” Kindra said, and Rohana interrupted.

  “It is my fault, Jaelle; I begged her. Will you
deprive me of her company while I am so far from my usual health?”

  Jaelle stared at the ground moving past under the horse’s feet. At last she said sullenly “If it is your will, Rohana, then your claim on Kindra is the best.” She did not believe this; she frowned even more darkly, thinking grown-ups always made their own decisions, without the slightest concern for what younger people wanted.

  Rohana understood all this as well as if Jaelle had said it all aloud, but she could not say so. As they rode up the ridge, she drew her horse neck and neck with Jaelle’s and said, “I promise to you I will make no further obstacle to your taking the Oath if it is still your desire.”

  “Can you possibly have any reason to doubt it?” Jaelle asked, “Do you think your life is so fair I would wish to lead it?”

  “Still, I would not have you take oath too young,” Kindra said. “It would not hurt to delay a little; you might later wish to marry.”

  Jaelle looked her full in the eyes. “Why? So that I might have children first—and then abandon them, as you did?”

  “Jaelle!” cried out Rohana, feeling Kindra’s recoil of pain before the words were entirely spoken. “How can you—”

  Kindra slapped Jaelle, hard, across her cheek. She said calmly, “You are insolent. Certainly it is better to prevent such a necessity; but I did not do it willingly, and it is better to take thought first. Would it be better to abandon the Oath should you later wish to change your mind and marry?”

  “That will take place, kinswomen, when the Pass of Scaravel runs with fire instead of ice,” Jaelle said angrily, and stared at the resin-tree stubs broken by the winds of the past winter.

  “Well, are they salvageable, or must they be replanted?” Kindra asked. “I do not know of such things.”

  “Now that I have seen, I can decide at leisure at home,” said Rohana, turning her horse about on the trail. “No decision should ever be taken in haste, certainly not one like this.”

  They rode back silently toward the castle below.

  IV

  A few days later, Kindra woke early and wondered what had awakened her. Jaelle, in the next room, was sleeping; Kindra could hear her quiet breathing through the opened door. Outside in the corridors was a bellowing, a pounding, an unholy clamor; was it a fire, an attack by bandits? Outside the shutters she could see the dim grayish-pink light of the coming dawn.

  Kindra slid her feet into fuzzy indoor boots and pulling a robe round her shoulders, went out into the corridor. Now she could recognize the bellowing voice as Dom Gabriel’s, hoarse, almost frenzied, shouting, and quite incoherent. Kindra could not help wondering if he was already drunk at this unseemly hour, and wondered for a moment if she should tactfully disappear so as not to embarrass Rohana, or whether the presence of a stranger might restrain some dangerous act.

  Dom Gabriel came into view at the end of the corridor. Young Kyril, seemed to be trying to restrain his father, who was brandishing something and yelling at the top of his lungs about a horse-whipping.

  Kyril said clearly, “I shouldn’t advise you to try it, Father; you might find out it is not I who gets whipped. It is not my fault if your women find me more of a man than you.”

  Now Kindra could see the girl Tessa, scantily clad in a garment revealing even for a bedgown, clinging to Kyril’s shoulders and trying to pull the two men apart. Rian came and skillfully in mid-yell wrenched his father off Kyril—evidently he knew some sleight or special skill at wrestling. He pushed his father, abruptly quiet as if he had been stricken dumb, down into one of the chairs placed at intervals along the hall.

  Lady Rohana, half-dressed, came along the corridor and her face turned sick at the number of people witnessing the scene. She said softly “Thank you, Rian. Please go and call his body-servant at once, or he may be ill. Gabriel, will you come back to bed now?” she asked, bending over the trembling man. “No, of course not; Tessa will go with you—won’t you, my dear.”

  “Damned little slut,” Gabriel mumbled. “Din’ you hear? Should be horsewhipped an’ I’m the one to do—” He made a half-hearted attempt to rise, but his legs would not carry him and he sank back.

  Kyril stepped forward and put his arm round Tessa. “Lay a hand on her, father, and I swear you’ll be the one to suffer!”

  Gabriel struggled upward.

  “Bastard! Le’me at him! Want to fight? Put yer fists up like a man, I say!” He lurched at Kyril, who launched a blow at him; but Rohana, flinging herself between them, received the heavy blow on the side of the head.

  Kyril cried out in shock, “Mother!” and reached out to keep her from falling. Gabriel’s reaction was almost the same, but on seeing Rohana dizzy and half-conscious in her elder son’s arms, he staggered back and let himself fall into the chair, mumbling “Rohana? Rohana, you all right?”

  “Small thanks to you if she is,” Kyril said angrily and lowered his mother gently to the arm of an old settee. Rian had returned with Dom Gabriel’s body-servant, who fussed around Lady Rohana with restoratives. She raised her head and said “Kyril—”

  “Oh, yes, blame everything on me, as usual!” the young man said, his arm round Tessa. “If I had had somewhere to take her, this would never have happened.”

  Dom Gabriel muttered “Should throw—little slut—right out o’ here—”

  Kyril looked almost heroic with his arm around the shrinking girl. “If she goes, Father, I go with her; mark my words! And after this, keep your hands off my women—understand?”

  Dom Gabriel raised his swollen blustering face, scowled and shook his fist, struggling to speak; then his body twisted into a frightful spasm. He fell, striking his head, and lay with his body twitching, unconscious. Rohana sprang toward him, appalled, but his body-servant knew what to do; the man forced a twisted kerchief into Dom Gabriel’s mouth so he would not bite his tongue, straightened his limbs a little as the convulsion died down, and knelt beside him, muttering words of reassurance as his eyes opened. Kyril flinched as his father stared sightlessly at him.

  “It’s all right, Kyril,” said Lady Rohana wearily. “When he comes round, he won’t remember anything about it.”

  “Look here. Mother, you can’t blame me for this—”

  “Not entirely; but you should know that when he has been drinking for days, this would be likely to happen and anything might set him off.” She added to the body-servant, “Call one or two of the stewards and get him to his room and his bed; he will not leave it today nor probably tomorrow. And make sure that when he comes around there is soup or broth for him, but not a drop of wine, no matter how abusive he is nor how he raves. If you cannot refuse him, tell me, and I will come and talk to him.”

  When Dom Gabriel had been carried to his room, she looked at the assembled family in the hallway. “I suppose there is no use in telling people to go back to bed and sleep after all this,” she said, and went to her daughter. “Don’t cry, Elorie, Father has been ill like this before; he won’t die of it, no matter how bad it looks. We must simply try harder to keep him from so much drinking or too much excitement.” She turned to Kyril, who still stood with his arms round Tessa. She said to the girl in a clear icy voice, “You are not very loyal to your lord, my child.”

  “No, Mother,” protested Kyril. “It’s the other way round. Father knew perfectly well Tessa was my girl. He brought her here to make trouble, that’s all, maybe because he was hoping people would think it was his child! But how could anyone think an old goat like him—” he broke off abruptly, his voice strangling back in his throat as he looked at his mother. In her light gown, it was perfectly clear that Rohana’s pregnancy was well advanced. He stared at the floor and mumbled.

  Jaelle snickered, her hand held tight over her mouth so only a suffocated sound like a fart escaped. Kindra scowled angrily at her, and Jaelle stared at the floor.

  Rohana said wearily, “Well, the girl should be monitored; if the child is an Ardais, no matter which of you fathered the poor thing. Tessa is certainly
entitled to shelter here, and protection, and it is my business to see to it. Alida, will you have her monitored today?”

  She beckoned to the leronis, who said, “Certainly, Gabriel had spoken to me about her child already—”

  “Then he did not know—then he thought—” Rohana said half under her breath. She swayed on her feet suddenly, and Kindra supported her with a strong arm.

  “Lady, this is too much for you,” she said urgently.

  “If everyone will—go and dress—I will see to breakfast in the hall—” Rohana said shakily.

  Jaelle said in a firm voice, “No, Aunt, you are ill; Dom Gabriel is being looked after by his servants; you go back to bed, and Elorie and I will see to breakfast. Kindra, get her back to her room—call one of the women and carry her, don’t let her walk! Aunt, for the baby’s sake—”

  “Why, thank you, Jaelle,” said Rohana in surprise, letting herself fall back into Kindra’s arms as the wave of sickness threatened to overcome her. She never knew who carried her to her room or her bed.

  The light had strengthened considerably when she woke again, and Kindra was sitting by her bed.

  Jaelle was just opening the door. She asked in a whisper “How is she, Kindra?”

  “You needn’t whisper, Jaelle, I’m awake,” Rohana said and was surprised at how shaky her own voice sounded. “Is everything all right downstairs?”

  “Oh, yes, everyone had breakfast; Elorie told the cooks to make spicebread, and she had hot cider served to the workmen. Rian told everyone the Master was ill, and the replanting of resin-trees would begin at noon—he would come himself to oversee—”

  “Rian is a good boy,” said Rohana softly.

  “Yes; he knows the estate well, and if Kyril would let him, he could save his father much trouble,” Jaelle said, “but Kyril is so jealous that Rian might have some influence with his father—” she shrugged. “It was Kyril who took up some broth and was feeding Dom Gabriel; it was, I am sure, a touching sight, but I heard Dom Gabriel shouting, as loud as he can shout which is not very loud now, to take away that swill and bring him some wine.”