Adelmar raised a hand. “I do not require apologies, Renna. I am merely saddened for you both that this union should be so difficult. It is not meant to be so, truly. But you both seemed determined to…” she closed her eyes briefly and stilled her words. “I should not speak so. To comment on a new marriage is wrong. All is unknown and you will learn.”
Renna bristled, though she tried not to. Adelmar spoke as any of the older women in the colony were wont to—their additional years lending a sort of shrewd superiority that was often infuriating. They were right many times, and therefore worth heeding, but they were far from infallible.
And in this... this marriage might not feel like much of one, but it was hers, and she did not like to hear another’s musings about it.
“I have given offence.”
She blinked and looked to the other woman. Was she so obvious in her feelings? “I... I suppose a little,” she hedged, torn between her disgruntlement and needing this woman to like her. She did not approve of that feeling of urgency, that if she did not find a companion to speak to she might go a bit mad. It was new and most decidedly unwelcome, but it remained a reality no matter how she wished otherwise.
“Then it is I who must offer my apologies. I did not invite you to give insult.”
Renna well believed that, and some of her ire faded as quickly as it had come. “I just feel that there are... expectations from all of you. From my people too,” she quickly amended. “That somehow all of this will be fine between us.”
Adelmar looked at her intently. “You do not believe it will be so?”
Renna suppressed a scoff, though it still came out as a strangled huff. “I think it will be what he and I can make it.” And right now that meant a rather shaky civility. She did not blame the Marzon, or her own people really, for choosing to believe that something grand might come of this arrangement. It would assuage their own consciences to, perhaps naively, think that two strangers might find something good in their relatively forced relationship. In a vague sort of way she did as well, but that required willing participants. And she and Machrus were anything but.
She ignored the subtle ache that came at the thought.
She was thankful that Adelmar did not smile, did not give a pat, but simply nodded a little gravely and murmured, “Of course,” before brightening a bit. “You must have questions.”
Renna gave a hesitant affirmation. “May I ask something of you first?”
“You may.”
Renna swallowed, knowing she needed to ask this but the awkwardness of it, the almost nearness to confrontation making her feel slightly sick. “Please don’t keep thinking poorly of Machrus whenever I don’t know something. I understand that you all think it’s his job to teach me these things but obviously...” she shrugged, not knowing how to explain what she most definitely did not. “He just isn’t. And I don’t want to push him for more than he’s ready to give me.”
Adelmar was staring at her, and Renna grew more nervous, though she did not regret having spoken. It was all right for her to grow frustrated with Machrus’s silences, for her to—on occasion—give voice to those aggravations. But it troubled her when others did, when Adelmar gave him those reproachful looks, when she accused him of some inadequacy. Perhaps he was a terrible husband, probably was in reality, but there was some strange protectiveness in her that made their disappointment in him quite bothersome to her.
“You are very gracious to him.”
Renna shrugged again. “Neither of us wanted this. I don’t need him to pretend otherwise.” To be a bit kinder, perhaps. A little warmer, but anything else would be disingenuous—almost a lie in its insincerity—and she would have honesty between them. Since there could be so little else, there could at least be that.
Adelmar sighed and sank against the back of her seat, still continuing to eye Renna speculatively. “There is so much you do not understand.”
Renna nodded, for there was no point in denying it. “I am well aware. But he gets very cross when he feels... well, I’m not sure of what he feels, but I know nothing is gained by annoying him.”
Adelmar frowned at that. “You should know how he feels.”
This time there was no containing her scoff. “True. I know well when he is annoyed, when he is angry, when he is frustrated. But when he is none of those things, he is simply...” she smoothed away all expression and at Adelmar’s grimace, she knew the woman understood. “I am doing my best.” As inadequate as that might be.
Adelmar shook her head, her fingers coming to her temple. “Sladec is laughing. He feels warm and amused and his joy is infectious.”
Renna looked about them. She supposed she could faintly hear the children elsewhere, but she had heard nothing from Sladec. “I can’t hear that well.”
Adelmar tapped her finger against her temple. “I cannot hear him. I know. Just as you should know of your own husband.”
“But I don’t.”
Did she?
From the blankness of Adelmar’s expression, it was clear that she was indeed expected to know precisely that. She sat quietly for a moment, considering, before feeling foolish when it finally occurred to her that she spoke of that strange presence in the corner of her mind, that little speck of all that was foreign that had settled there after Machrus had touched her.
She smiled rather sheepishly. “Oh, that.”
Adelmar visibly relaxed. “Yes. That is your bond. It is what grants you language, knowledge, both of our people and of your husband. For our people to know of you. What allows Machrus to know all of your kind.”
Renna paled. “All?”
Adelmar gave her an odd look. “There is nothing hidden in your union, if both were to simply look.”
The queasiness returned, along with the dizziness.
“Renna? You do not appear well.”
“That is... that’s terrible!”
Adelmar cocked her head slightly. “He did not explain?”
“Not like that! I never would have agreed to... if I’d known...”
Adelmar reached out, surprising Renna with her touch as she took hold of her hand. “There is nothing to fear, Renna, so you may calm yourself. Has Machrus given you any reason to believe that he is prying? That he has glimpsed something you would prefer that he not?”
Renna forced herself to breathe, to calm down and thought back to their initial encounter. According to Adelmar, he had not needed to ask about... to ask about Maisie, he could simply have looked for himself and gathered all the answers he wished. But he’d asked her instead, he’d accepted her response and seemingly allowed the subject to fall away. Just as she wished it always would.
“But I can’t feel him, not as you say,” she argued lamely, hoping that perhaps there was some mistake after all.
“Not at all?”
Renna thought a moment, feeling foolish as she focused her attention on something that still felt too extraordinary to possibly be real.
“Not... not a feeling, like you mention. I know there’s... something there, or should be? But it’s... dark. Muddled.”
Adelmar’s lips thinned. “It is very wrong for one to block the other. Machrus should know better.” The woman stopped, releasing a slow breath before taking on a placid expression. “But you do not wish to hear that. Then I shall simply say that communication, the ability to feel the other, it is a right between you both, one that should never be stoppered.”
Renna clearly knew too little about this, for instead of the apparent outrage she should be experiencing, only relief filled her—assuming that Machrus’s choice meant that he could not sense her as well. She sincerely hoped it did.
But arguing with Adelmar seemed pointless, and this at least was something she felt relatively confident she could discuss with Machrus.
So she settled on understanding another subject instead. “Are you... is it all right that you are touching me?”
Adelmar immediately drew back. “Does it offend?”
&
nbsp; “No! No, not at all. I just... you wouldn’t take my hand before, when I wanted to speak with you. And I thought... something Machrus said made me think maybe it wasn’t permitted at all.”
Adelmar shook her head, a bit ruefully. “That is not so. But until the bond is set, we are not permitted to touch the newcomer.”
Renna’s brow furrowed. “Because we’re outsiders? Until then?”
Adelmar appeared torn between embarrassment and amusement. “No, it is merely custom. It is said to encourage a couple to place the bond with more speed.”
Renna had to tamp down her outrage at that. Everything seemed set to push them together, to speed things along regardless of what they wanted, what they wished to occur—to form a dependence between them that was almost unavoidable. And while she would try her hardest to be gracious, she was beginning to understand some of Machrus’s resentment, a few tendrils of it instilling within her as well.
“You... you said that you... the Marzon, that is, know of my people too. Through the bond. What did you mean?”
Adelmar’s eyes narrowed. “Are you certain you wish to know?”
She supposed that meant it was something upsetting, but her purpose here was to learn, and she could not just ignore the aspects of her new life that she would find objectionable. “I am.”
Adelmar’s fingers briefly touched the metal cuff around her upper arm, the marking intricate. Renna still did not know what they meant, not fully, their purpose only so recently made clear by their ascent. “Those born to the Marzon, they are... connected. Their knowledge joined. We, as their brides share only a part of that—what our husbands may provide through our pairings—but to them... there is so much more. Histories, skills, custom—the languages of not only their people, but of all they have since married. That is what our unions are for. They acquire all that we know so that they might better their own people.”
If Renna had difficulty understanding how she might be connected to Machrus now, the idea that he could be so to an entire people...
That all of her secrets were vulnerable not only to him, but to everyone...
She didn’t realise at first that she was shaking, but she wrapped her arms tightly about herself to try to quell the trembles, her dismay at the prospect nearly overwhelming. Her history was hers and no one else’s. Her memories, her pain, those thoughts she held most dear, they were hers to remember and hers to try so desperately to forget.
And yet with one stupid trade, one foolish assent, she had opened them to an entire people.
Adelmar was watching her, clearly noting that something was wrong. “I do not explain it well. Your husband would be better, as he has experienced the fullness of it himself.” She gave a half smile, in what Renna assumed was meant to be reassuring. “There is no need to be upset.”
There was most certainly a need. When her entire being had been ripped open and was apparently available for anyone to view.
“Was this explained? To Desmond?” she asked, her voice coming out in a rather hoarse whisper. Adelmar looked at her without recognition. “To my leader?” How much had he known when he asked this of her? Did he realise the extent of her sacrifice?
Her expression gentled. “Sladec is your sanmir as well. But if you ask if your people were informed of this... I am uncertain. Would they have rejected the trade if they had known?”
It was doubtful, not when they were nearly desperate for a true colony, but unease had settled in her, difficult to simply ignore now that it had begun. It was not only her secrets that had been lost, but everyone’s. All that she had ever known, ever been taught, all that made them a colony...
Information did not have to be asked about, bits hidden at will.
And it was her fault.
The Marzon were kindly, she supposed, but something of this felt too close to theft. That knowledge and experience could simply be absorbed, reconstituted to a people who had not lived it, but could use those lessons and abilities for their own purpose...
She felt defenceless, helpless. Betrayed.
She had thought it wrong that her memories might be open to Machrus’s perusal, but he had also made it clear that he would do his utmost to give her what privacy he could. And though those she had met of the Marzon seemed to be good people—she had liked them well enough at only the barest of meetings—that did not mean she was ready for them to know all.
Machrus had not wanted to complete the bond with her. He had cautioned her against it, had insisted that the loneliness and isolation were worth abstaining from it.
Yet she had thought she understood, even had known better. That communication and community were more important, and worth what she had thought would simply be a regrettable furtherance of their entanglement.
But now with the ache in her belly, the misery that came with the sheer weight of all that she had revealed with her urgency, she finally appreciated all that he had been trying to protect her from.
And suddenly she felt as though Machrus was the only one she could truly trust.
Because with absolute certainty, she knew she could not trust herself.
12. Hide
“You are distraught.” Adelmar still sat across from her, looking at her worriedly. “I asked if you truly wished to know.”
Renna had to work hard to keep angry tears from choking at her throat, to keep her voice level as she responded. “You came from another people, yes?”
Adelmar nodded in confirmation, beginning to eye her warily. “Ties between us have always been close. It was an honour to be chosen for the sanmir.”
“How were you all right with them knowing everything? No secrets, no privacy given to your people, for their ways to be stolen away?” No privacy for herself...
Adelmar reached out again, her touch no longer soothing. “Renna, the Marzon do not use these things for evils. For war. To take advantage. They do it so they might learn and understand, to help their own people to flourish. How is that so wrong?”
Because regardless of what she said, they could do those things. Perhaps they were as peaceful and well meaning as she suggested, but there was still much power to be had when boundaries could be so easily destroyed.
“I think I’d like to go find Machrus now.”
She was being rude. Adelmar’s disappointment was obvious, but Renna did not feel able to sit and converse. Not now. She needed to talk to her husband, to understand things better, and he seemed the only one who had an appreciation for all she had lost by coming here.
She wanted to laugh at how quickly she could suddenly appreciate his distant nature.
“There were others who wished to meet with you,” Adelmar tried to persuade her. “Others that perhaps you would find more agreeable to speak with.”
Guilt niggled beneath her hurt, and she found herself offering placations before she was even conscious of doing so. “It isn’t you. Truly. But I... I need to talk with Machrus.” She stood, feeling anxious, feeling as if the walls that were so recently a comfort were now too close. “Your home is lovely,” Renna hinted, inching slightly toward the door. She would need help to find him as she didn’t in the least know where he might be or how to navigate their strange living quarters, and her reliance chafed at her. Nothing she did would change what had occurred. She had opened herself to Machrus’s bond and as he had rightly told her, there was nothing that could dissolve it.
Adelmar appeared troubled, but she acquiesced, opening the door and leading Renna out. She looked back every few moments to see how she fared, before finally halting when evidently Renna’s face showed exactly what she thought of being out upon the spiralling ledges without Machrus’s hand to brace her.
“This is when the bond would be most helpful,” Adelmar half grumbled to herself. “He would know of your need and come to you.” Her voice rose a little and Renna supposed that meant she was actually meant to hear her. “He is with Sladec. It is not far, but do you think you are able?”
Renna hesitated, her eye
s darting about as her heart began to beat a little faster.
The platform had expanded to a larger communal area, small groups of men and women clustered about tending to their tasks. They seemed to focus mostly on cloth, as a loom dominated one side, weavers peeping up from their work to look at the newcomers. There were three spinners as well, baskets of fluff settled at their feet—one twined and coiled and the other yet to be finished.
One of the spinners halted in her work and Renna recognised her as the woman who had accompanied Adelmar before.
“Renna!” She called, rising from her stool and approaching hastily. “We were hoping you would come.”
“Edlyn,” Adelmar interjected, glancing back at Renna. “I fear that her visit must be short. She is... distressed. We shall find Machrus and then they will go.”
Edlyn looked at Renna worriedly. “You are unwell?” To Renna’s dismay, her eyes flickered briefly to her middle. She tried to remain calm even as her cheeks burned, and Edlyn shook her head. “Too soon for that, my apologies. But you do look sickly. Why has he not come to find you?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer,” she managed at last, turning to address Adelmar. “And I’ll manage.”
Adelmar did not appear wholly convinced but gave another nod. “Perhaps you would be available, Edlyn, after I have seen Renna safely to her husband.”
Edlyn did not look surprised, and gave her assent quite readily. “May health return to you, Renna. I desire to know more of you.”
Renna had to bite her tongue to keep a retort from slipping out. What was the point of questions, of that time spent together, if they could simply dip into her mind and learn anything they liked?
She was not panicking, not yet, her disgruntlement at the concept of this bond doing much to keep her mind from just how high they must be above the ground, but she also did not wish to prolong things. So she gave a tight smile and nod to Edlyn and followed Adelmar onward.
Trade (Deridia Book 2) Page 16