Thad was staring dumbstruck at the dukes, turning his head back and forth as one or the other spoke. He looked now to Amison as the man told Vane, “You’ve made friends with Hayden Grissner, I see.”
“With the Duke of Crescenton, yes. A duke as legitimate as you, his title granted by Rexson Phinnean because unlike you, he didn’t turn his back on the royal family.”
Hayden had noticed the men arguing from halfway across the vestibule, and just then was able to wind his way over. He placed himself next to Vane and addressed the Duke of Yangerton.
“You have nothing more to say to Ingleton about the council or the demonstrators. The king made clear the man had nothing to do with planning this endeavor. If you have comments, bring them to His Majesty. That’s the proper quarter.”
“Oh, I shall speak with the king, Grissner.”
Amison barged past Vane, ramming his shoulder into him and knocking his nearly full wineglass from his hand. It shattered at Vane’s feet, but no one outside the immediate vicinity took note. The vestibule was just too loud.
Thad said, “That was a mistake, Ingleton. All you told him, a mistake.”
Vane was glowering at Amison’s back, and did not bother to respond. One servant rushed off for a towel and broom, while Hayden grabbed two glasses of wine from a second. He kept one for himself and handed the other to Vane. “Drink up,” he advised. “You hardly touched the first.”
* * *
The day that news of the Magic Council broke, Gratton made it home an hour or so before midnight. He found Bennie in the now box-free living room, sweeping around the hearth.
“Cleaning?” he said, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “What are you cleaning for? I thought you’d be in bed. Don’t you have to be at the store early?”
“Early tomorrow, yes. I don’t feel tired yet.”
“That’s impossible, Bens. We were both up around four.”
“Well, my mind’s racing.”
He took the broom from her, stepped over the dust pile she was making, and sat with her on the settee. “Are you worried about Vane?”
“That’s not the only thing. Not even the main thing, I’d say.” Bennie took a deep breath. “This month didn’t do it. I’m still not pregnant, not as of today.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? Listen, we have time for that.”
“Gratton, I should be pregnant by now.”
“We’ve only been married two and a half months.”
“And we’ve been trying from the get-go. I think there’s a problem,” she insisted. “With me. You know they stabbed me in the side when the League attacked the Palace.”
“And Zalski healed you right away, didn’t he?”
“Not cleanly he didn’t. His spells weren’t clean that day. His wife had just died, and…. You’ve seen my scar. What if there’s scarring on the inside too, messing everything up? What if I can’t get pregnant? It was all I could think about today, playing with Rexson’s daughter. Man alive, she’s just adorable the way she laughs and stumbles around and hugs Hune’s dog, and I, I want that so badly: a little one stumbling around here with my red hair and your nose.”
Tears sparkled in Bennie’s eyes in the dim firelight. The room was cold, and she looked close to shivering, so Gratton took a wool blanket that was draped on the back of their seat and wrapped it around her, holding her close. “I want it too,” he told her. “And it might still happen, first of all, because like I said, it’s only been three months. That’s no guarantee you’re barren. It could happen next month, or three months from now, or next year even.”
“What if it doesn’t, Gratton?”
“We go on living and enjoying what we have, because what we have is wonderful. And Bens, there are far too many orphans in Podrar alone, not to mention Yangerton. We could give a child a home if you wanted.”
“Not a child from an orphanage. We’d have to show a marriage certificate, and that has my real name on it, with my old address and yours. That’s all well and good, but orphanages don’t just let a child walk out with you, Gratton. Not under Rexson’s reign. They keep track of how he’s doing. They would have to keep note of our address, this address, and we can’t leave that trail for someone to pick up. We just can’t do that.”
“Why not? Anyone who saw the marriage license would know we live together. They’d just have to tail me from work.”
“They’d have to learn you work at the Palace, then find out who you were, and after that go through the trouble of following you home, all without you noticing. At least in that case they’d have to earn the prize, because how many scores of people work at the Palace? Gratton, we can’t have papers anywhere with my name and address on them, you know that: not adoption papers, not a house deed. That’s why the house is in Hayden’s brother-in-law’s name. You saw what the crowds were outside the Palace today, and outside Oakdowns. For God’s sake, I’m a known associate of the king from the Crimson League. Besides Hayden, I’m the only one left in Herezoth. Some fanatics are crazy enough to think they could shut down the council if they threatened me or some such thing, and then there’s the Fist. They could want revenge, so no, taking in a child is not an option. If I can’t get pregnant we won’t have children, and I’m honestly starting to think I can’t. And I’ve told you, I keep telling you, don’t call me Bens or Bennie. If you do that around here, you’ll do it out. It’s Hannah: stupid, horrid Hannah. What a ghastly….”
“Listen up, Hannah Reesp, no name someone like you went by could ever be ugly. As for that scar, whatever else it might signify, it’s a mark of honor that I’m damn proud of and you should be too. You’re as much of a soldier as I’ll ever be. Hell, you’re more of one, you got that? War wounds sometimes have consequences. That comes with the territory. I’m still not convinced you can’t have kids, but I love you all the same, whether you’re piddling around about to start labor or barren as a cookie jar after two hours with unattended youngsters.”
She laid her head on his shoulder with a sniffle. “I love you so much.”
“You feeling tired yet?”
“I’m starting to.”
“Well, good. Let’s get you to bed, then. You need your sleep.”
* * *
The clock in the sitting room of August’s quarters had just chimed midnight when Vane transported in. August was still clad in her work dress. Darning socks to pass the time, she sat in the rocking chair she used to calm Melly when the young girl fussed. The door to the bedroom, which she usually kept open, was shut so as not to disturb Teena.
“How is she?” Vane asked.
“Loads better. Her fever broke, and she was up and about earlier. Ate a good amount of vegetable soup and bread, and she drank some tea the doctor recommended. We talked about you for a good half-hour. I told her Zacry was here, and she was so relieved at that you could just about see the tension melting from her face. She wanted to stay up to see you, but I told her you’d want her to rest. She tried to hold out, of course. You know how she is, but she went back to bed about two hours ago. Val, how was it? Did anyone cause problems?”
“Openly, only Amison. Most others just settled for warning glances. I was able to sit by Thad at dinner, at least. That meant Carlina too, but….”
Vane’s cheeks, already flushed with wine, grew an even deeper red as he recalled Carlina’s opinion of Tara Grissner. And Thad…. He had been hoping that Thad, if no one else, would understand about August, but that had been more of a wish than a probability.
Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps the cumulative effect of the strain of the last six months, and the last twenty-four hours in particular; perhaps it was the anger that enveloped him each time he remembered Carlina and Thad’s comments about marriage, an anger that urged him to act out of spite towards them and the entire establishment; perhaps he was exhausted to the point that delirium was setting in; but all of a sudden, an idea Vane had only contemplated half in jest he now considered in seriousness. A concept that had a
lways seemed absurd became not only a viable option, but perhaps the best one. He walked up to August and took her right hand. “Tomorrow’s your day off, isn’t it?”
“Like always,” she said. “I didn’t really watch Melly today, so I offered to take this as my free day for the week, but the queen wouldn’t let me do that.”
“August, let’s get married,” he said.
She blinked in confusion, and told him, “We will, eventually.”
“No, let’s elope. Tonight.”
“What!?”
“Elope to Partsvale. There’s always a minister at the Shrine. All the priests in the village take turns staffing the sacristy late. Whoever’s there will marry us.”
Vane had never seen August look so startled. She made to raise her free hand to the side of her head, but Vane grabbed it too and held it alongside the other.
“I realize I’m not the safest person to be associated with right now. Hundreds of protesters could have overrun my estate mere hours ago without the protective spells I’ve set up. In the last thirty minutes, Amison took his threats against me from latent to clearly voiced. I’ll think nothing of it if you say you’d rather wait, because frankly, I have no business asking you to marry me on this of all days. The timing’s beyond dreadful. But August, I realized tonight there’ll never be a decent time. I’m a sorcerer and of Zalski’s blood, and whenever I get married, married will mean kids, won’t it? Kids mean more sorcerers, and there’ll be people who don’t want that, whether we marry tonight or five years from now.”
“I’ll give you we’ll never find an ideal moment. But there’ll be better times than this, surely!”
“God help me if there aren’t,” he responded.
August pulled away from him and started pacing the floor. Her stomach felt tied in knots; she was amazed she could move and was not doubled over from all the tension in her gut. “Val, waiting makes more sense, doesn’t it? It’s certainly the practical thing, the safe and proper thing. If we’re honest with ourselves, the proper thing would have been never getting involved in the first place, but since that’s over and done with, we’re left with….”
Vane felt his heart drop, and prayed his disappointment wouldn’t show. “We’re left with waiting,” he said. “So we’ll wait. That’s settled, we’ll wait.”
But August kept on pacing.
“Propriety, now…. There’s more to consider than propriety. Val, I…” She stopped moving, which Vane appreciated, because he had started to feel dizzy following her with his eyes. “I’ve been thinking the last few hours, about us. We’re sure of our emotions. We’re agreed on what we want for the future. Yes, we could wait until things calm down a bit, but I know the both of us fairly well by now, and I’m convinced that if we don’t face this mess together—openly, unabashedly, undividably together—we’ll regret it as long as we live.”
“So we’re doing this?” asked Vane. “We’re getting married?”
“We’re getting married,” she confirmed. Her voice shook with excitement. She kissed him and held his shoulders. “Gracious, we…. We’re getting married! Val, how will this work?”
“Pack your things,” he said, and kissed her. “I’ll go grab mine, and change….” (She kissed him this time) “…and I’ll be back in half an hour.” (His turn again.) “I’ll leave a note in my room for Rexson, so don’t worry about that, all right?” (Her turn.) “August….”
“All right,” she said, and kissed him one last time, hanging on his arm as though to prevent him leaving. “Have we gone insane? Val, what will the king say?”
“I’m trying not to think about that right now.”
“And Oakdowns? What if the crowds are larger tomorrow? What if they turn destructive?”
“Let them burn the place to the ground. No one’s inside. Listen, I’ll be right back, I promise.”
“Hurry,” she said, and squeezed his hand. He said he would and transported to the room where he had planned to sleep. He put on fresh clothing, something less formal so as not to attract attention in Partsvale, and scribbled a quick note for Rexson explaining where he and August had gone. He hardly had a clue what he was writing.
Ten minutes later, Vane found himself in a dark, deserted Oakdowns. He entered directly to his chamber and lit no lamps or tapers; he knew exactly what he was looking for, and an ominous red glow from the window gave just enough light to navigate the familiar terrain.
The first place he went was to look outside, invisible. He dared a peek around the curtain to the grounds and the fence, where ghostly, nondescript, motionless figures held at least seventy torches in a mark of solidarity with one another, in defiance of the Duke of Ingleton and his rumored future involvement with the Magic Council.
They’re still here. Good Giver, they’re still here.
There was a bowl on Vane’s nightstand where he usually poured water to wash his face before bed; he reached it just in time to vomit. Then he took a few deep breaths, cleaned his mouth with fresh water from the pitcher next to the bowl, and vanished the sick with a spell.
Damn them all!
Keeping his back to the window’s glow, he made his way to the desk and removed an envelope from the top drawer, then wasted no time in transporting out. When he made it back to August’s rooms, she had a small bag ready and had put on her favorite lace-lined dress.
“We’ll need rings,” he said, handing her the envelope he had taken from Oakdowns. She slid a diamond ring as well as a man’s gold band onto her palm.
“That was my mother’s wedding ring,” Vane told her, indicating the diamond. “She left it at the Crimson League’s last camp, but Rexson recovered it later. And that was my father’s: at least, his initials are etched on the inside of the band. I don’t know why he wasn’t wearing it when he died, or how it made it back to Oakdowns if he was. It was fixed to the back of my parents’ portrait in the attic.”
“The one someone hid with a blanket?”
“That one. I hadn’t intended to use these, August. I was planning to have new ones made for us and just keep these as heirlooms, but since there’s no time for that, we can slip them on and I’ll size them before we go.”
Vane’s father’s ring was a bit too large, while August could not slip hers over her knuckle. A few words muttered under Vane’s breath were all it took to adjust their diameters. Then Vane stuck the rings in his pocket and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I am, Val.” Because she knew what would happen if they waited. They would find another excuse to postpone announcing an engagement or a marriage, and then another, until one or both of them began to question how deep their attachment ran.
I can’t let that happen. I can’t lose him like that. I’ll face anything with him, anything at all, but I won’t lose him for want of a backbone.
“It won’t be easy, August. The nobility….”
“I can follow Tara Grissnser’s lead, can’t I? Not make appearances. I’d be fine with that, as long as you are.”
“That’s your decision. You’re the one they’ll snub, so if you want to keep to yourself, keep to yourself. You’ve every right. If you’d like to join me now and then in company, that’s fine too. I’d be proud as any fool to have you with me, and to hell with the rest of them. There will be functions I’ll have to attend, though, with or without you. Rexson’s in particular.”
“I understand that, and I’d never grudge you going. That comes with the title, doesn’t it, and I know why you took the title up. It wasn’t to stoke your ego, or make your name known, or something like that. You felt obligated, obligated to undo at least some small part of your uncle’s legacy. Val, I know how that is.” It was the same sense of duty she had struggled with after her sister kidnapped the princes.
“Good God, I love you,” he said, and kissed her. “August, I… Why did we never say that before today?”
She kissed him back, and said, “I think both of us knew deep down that when we did, something
like this would happen. So let’s go,” she urged. He made to kiss her again, but she pushed him away. “Let’s get married before we lose our nerve.”
CHAPTER SIX
Visiting Ursa
The newlyweds returned to August’s rooms the next evening arm in arm holding their light luggage, but August dropped her bag and drew back from her husband when she found the king waiting for them with a horribly stern (and frighteningly paternal) glare in his eye. He gave the bride not even a glance.
“A word, Ingleton.”
“I’ll be in the library,” August whispered in Vane’s ear, and darted off.
“Before you start….” Vane pleaded.
“Oh, I’ll speak first. Valkin Heathdon, I have never….”
The absolute worst ten minutes of Vane’s life followed. Rexson had the air of an angry and injured father. What had Vane been thinking? After all Zacry had done to limit the backlash against him, he had repaid the man by doing the one thing that was sure to make those efforts ineffectual. Perhaps Vane didn’t care about the increased dangers to himself, but what about August? Had he thought of that? He might as well have thrown August in the midst of ravenous beasts. He was a sorcerer. If August were to conceive right away, the Giver help them all! Vane said he loved her? Then his priority was her security, her protection above all else, most especially above any thought of sexual gratification. He’d been noble enough to marry the girl, at least, and not go fathering bastard after bastard like Carson Amison, but to marry then of all times….
The Magic Council (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 36