A Cold Wind

by CJ Brightley

  I sighed. Dinner was not going well. Ena and Joka had invited me over again. Ena knew how much I was struggling with the decision, and I’d finally, tentatively, decided that I would tell Riulono yes. Yes, I would sign the papers. Yes, because I wanted children. Yes, because I wanted to belong to someone.

  Joka harrumphed and scowled at his plate. Ena put one hand on my arm, as if it was a comforting gesture. It felt more like the sympathy after someone you love dies, which didn’t encourage me at all. But only Lani gave me her opinion openly.

  “Ria, you can’t.” She was pleading. “It’s not worth it. If you want children that much, there are plenty on the street. You could love them.”

  “What do you know of the street foxes, Lani?” It felt like an unfair attack. I wasn’t a bad person because I wanted my own children, was I? To feel the life growing within me, to see my features mixed with a husband’s beauty in their faces?

  She puffed out her cheeks and huffed. Joka frowned at her. “Lani, Ria is a grown woman. Leave her be.” Then even more gravely, to me, “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Ria. Just because he’s handsome.”

  “It’s not because he’s handsome! It’s because…” I stopped and tried to say it kindly, so it didn’t sound like a complaint or an accusation. “You all belong. You’re a family. You have each other. I don’t have anyone. You’re lovely to me, but…” I blinked back tears and stared at my hands clenched together in my lap.

  “Ria.” Ena stood and moved around behind my chair to embrace me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as if she were my mother. I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying not to cry. “I understand, Ria. I do. Be careful with him, that’s all.”

  “I’ll think about it. I haven’t decided yet.” It was almost true. I had decided, but I was willing to change my mind.

  “Good.” Joka let out a sigh of relief that was almost comical. “Good, Ria. Think about it hard. No one can make you as happy or as miserable as your husband or wife. No one. Better to be lonely than married to the wrong person.”

  Lani found me in my room a few nights later. She was grumpy, nearly slamming the door behind herself. She’s not normally so ill-tempered, so I merely waited, and finally she sniffled a little.

  “Now Da wants to talk to Aku Parvisano about me.”

  “You don’t like him?”

  “No. He smells funny and he walks with his fat gut sticking out.”

  I almost laughed. “He does. A little. But what would make you happy, Lani?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to get married yet. And Da just wants him because he’s ‘a step up’ for me. He doesn’t want me to have to work as much as Ma does. I’d rather do that than be married to Parvisano, though.” She played with the hem of her apron.

  “It won’t be for years yet. Don’t worry.”

  “He’ll just be older and fatter by then!” She scowled ferociously. “Just because you’d settle for someone with one foot in the grave doesn’t mean I want to.”

  Tears sprung in my eyes and I turned away. My hands were shaking, and I clasped them together.

  “I’m sorry, Ria. I didn’t mean it.”

  Riulono didn’t have one foot in the grave; he was young, and handsome. But the desperation she touched was real.

  “I didn’t mean it, Ria.” She came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “He’s not so bad. I guess. He isn’t fat and he smells all right.” The reluctance in her voice was so obvious even she couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear it. “He’s…” she sighed. “I just think you deserve better.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making sure my voice was steady before I said anything. “I don’t have a lot of choices, Lani.”

  I’d have been grateful if Parvisano liked me. He might not have been handsome, but he’d seemed kind, and that’s more than many women get in a husband.

  Riulono sent me a message asking me to meet him behind Harl’s fruit stall at the market. Despite my lingering doubt, I said I would. Lani didn’t know, of course.

  I was early. Harl gave me a slice of moonfruit to eat while I waited, so I didn’t look so foolish. The noise of the market swelled around me, voices in a dozen accents and a few foreign tongues. A Dari sold grilled lamb across the market, and I watched him with interest. He was new among the vendors, and I hadn’t gotten a look at him the one other time I’d seen him. He wasn’t as tall as General Sendoa, nor as… I hesitated. What was General Sendoa? Alive. Vigorously alive.

  I jumped at a touch on my back.

  “Morning, darling. Eager to see me?” Riulono grinned and tried to kiss me.

  I turned my head, and his lips slid across my cheek, catching a few stray hairs. He smelled of ale, and it wasn’t even midday. His hand tightened on my arm as I tried to twist away.

  “What’s wrong?” he frowned and pulled on my arm.

  “Stop! You’re hurting me.” I was more irritated than scared.

  “Don’t like that?” He pushed me away and spat on the ground. “I had something for you, but I lost it.” He laughed a bit too roughly, and Harl looked back at us.

  I took a half-step backwards. “It’s fine. I’m sorry, I need to go.”

  His face darkened. “It was a joke. Here it is.” He smiled again, teeth glittering, and I suddenly felt afraid. He pulled some papers from his coat. “I got the papers, Ria darling. Good fruit man here can be our witness.”

  Harl glanced at me again, and he kept one hand on his knife.

  “I told you I wasn’t ready yet.” I swallowed hard, my heart thudding raggedly as he pushed close to me and twisted my arm so that I gasped.

  “Come now, what’s to question?”

  “Let me go, ‘Lono.” I jerked my wrist back.

  He let me go but stepped in closer as I stepped away again.

  “I’m not going to marry you. You can have the necklace back.” I fumbled with the clasp behind my neck. I was afraid for a moment he would hit me, but he only trailed one finger down my cheek.

  “Darling, dear little fool. You don’t want to do this. There isn’t someone else, is there?”

  General Sendoa’s face came to mind, the way he bowed so solemnly, but I shook my head. No. There was no one else.

  Better no one than the wrong person, though.

  Better alone than him.

  “No.” My voice was shaking. “No, ‘Lono. I’m sorry.”

  He spat, grabbing the necklace and thrusting it into his pocket carelessly.

  I cried in my room that night. I’d been willing to pretend I didn’t see that he stared after every woman that walked by. Willing to tolerate his arrogance. Perhaps he had reason to be arrogant. He was handsome, dashing, funny. Sometimes. When he wasn’t cruel.

  Perhaps he was right. No one else might want me.

  I could have tolerated many things for the sake of marriage. I wanted a man, wanted to be protected. I wanted children, babes to hold, laughing children to call me Mama, to nestle close, to kiss me sloppily on the cheek, to come running to me with their scraped knees. I would have settled, tried to find a measure of happiness with him. With love, with patience, perhaps we could have had a good life.

  But the thought of his careless cruelty turned my stomach. I couldn’t live with that. I couldn’t live with the way he twisted my arm, the way his eyes flashed when I said it hurt.

  He enjoyed it.

  I told Lani first, because she would never have forgiven me if I hadn’t. But then Joran and Ena and Joka and soon nearly everyone knew. Both their sympathy and congratulations felt like salt on the wound, and I wished everyone would just pretend it had never happened. But my heart felt lighter, uncaged, and even the disappointment of being alone again felt less lonely somehow.

  “Don’t you like General Sendoa?” Lani’s eyes were wide as she turned to me.

  “Hold still.” She turned back around. I brushed her hair and began the braid over again. I did her hair because she said I didn’t pull as much as her mo
ther did.

  “Well, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do, silly goose. Doesn’t everyone? He’s a hero.”

  “I mean more than that. He’s not much older than you are.”

  “Lani, he’s the Minister of Military Affairs and the ambassador to Rikuto. He’s a personal friend of the king. I’m a maid. You know better than that. You’d best not get any crazy ideas.”

  “I don’t think he’d mind that. Besides, don’t you think he’s nice, at least? I think he has a nice smile.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You think everyone who smiles is nice.”

  “Not Riulono.”

  “Fine. Except Riulono. I’m sure General Sendoa is quite nice, but I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”

  “Well, isn’t it time you started looking again? I don’t see how you could do any better.”

  This time I did snap at her. “Nalani, I don’t need you to lecture me on my marriage prospects! You’re fourteen!” She deflated a little and I finished her braid in silence. “Now go on, I’ll see you at lunch.” I swatted her seat as she went out, as if she were still a child, and she laughed and ran off.

  That day, Avusta, was the day I led the girls scrubbing the floors. I had four to help me, all younger of course. We filled buckets with soap and water in the cool morning darkness. Tanith, Sinta, and Anthea were to do the Great Hall together, and Sayen and I would start at the door to the courtyard and work our way toward the Great Hall. Then we’d move to the next set of hallways. It’s a never ending job, but we try to rotate it among the women so no one has to do it every week. Sayen was the oldest of the girls under me, but Sinta was quite responsible, most of the time anyway, and would keep the other two in line if necessary.

  Sayen was twenty-one and pregnant with her first child. She and her husband Eko were happy together. He worked as a scribe and they hadn’t been married long. I’d offered to transfer her to the kitchen, which is easier work, but she said standing so much hurt her back and the smells made her sick. She was a sweet girl, and I enjoyed working with her, though I sometimes felt a pang of envy.

  We worked for some time. We’d started at the door to the courtyard since I wanted to finish before everyone woke for the day. We sang sometimes, quietly, but mostly we worked in silence. Scrubbing floors is tiring work, and though I don’t really mind it, it doesn’t leave much breath for chatting. Not that we had much to say. When you work with someone every day, you run out of conversation topics.

  We’d finished the two connecting rooms and nearly finished the hallway when the door to the courtyard opened. I sat back in surprise and Sayen scowled slightly.

  I should have known it would be Sendoa who strode through, dirty boots leaving a distinct path halfway down the hallway. Aside from servants, no one but him is up that early. He stopped suddenly when he caught sight of Sayen and me on our knees, rags in hand. Sayen, with her customary good humor, stopped scowling and smiled as we ducked our heads in respect.

  “Sorry.” He turned on his heel and retreated back the way he had come.

  Sayen and I looked at each other.

  “I’ll do it.” She sighed.

  “No, I will. You keep on here.”

  But she scooted over anyway and I shrugged. It didn’t really matter, either way we’d both have to work until we finished. The door opened again and we looked up.

  Sendoa had his boots in hand, noticeably cleaner, and stood barefooted on the doorframe. “I just washed my feet too, they’re not dirty.” He padded around the muddy trail and put his boots at the far end of the hall. We were even more surprised when he returned and knelt near Sayen. “Do you have an extra rag?”

  She shook her head, now thoroughly confused. “No, sir.”

  “Then may I use yours?”

  We both stared at him in confusion. After a moment he repeated his question. “May I use yours?”

  “Why, sir?” She glanced at me, as if I would be able to explain his behavior.

  He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Because I muddied the floor you were cleaning.” He reached out and took the rag from her hand and began to scrub the marble floor.

  She watched him and then looked at me before trying unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle.

  “What’s funny?” Sendoa spoke without looking up.

  “You don’t need to do it, sir. It’s a servant’s job.”

  He glanced up and paused in his scrubbing. “I’m not royalty, you know. I’m not even nobility.”

  She said what I was thinking. “Sir, you’re the king’s ambassador to Rikuto! And commander of the army.”

  He looked back at the floor. “Minister of Military Affairs. All the same, I think I can manage to scrub a floor. If you can suffer my presence?” He glanced up, and at my wide-eyed nod bent to his task again.

  I continued as well, though I watched him out of the corner of my eye. Sayen continued to kneel, unsure what she should do. He cleaned the long trail of muddy footprints, rinsing out the cloth periodically and pushing the bucket ahead of himself as he moved down the hall. Finally he wrung out the rag, stood, picked up the bucket and brought it back to her. Then he bowed slightly and was gone.

  She looked at me with wide eyes. “What was that all about?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose he can do what he wants.”

  She bent over again. “If I have a son, I want him to be like that.”

  “Like how?”

  “Cleaning up his own messes! Eko is lovely to me, but he can’t see dirt until it grows legs.” She smiled at the floor. “Besides, isn’t he nice? Saraid said he searched her out and thanked her for her care while he was ill.”

  “He did?” I hadn’t heard.

  That was odd. Healing, staying with the sick and dying, is what healers do. It’s their job, just like cleaning is one of my jobs. I don’t expect gratitude. I don’t do it out of the goodness of my heart. I don’t resent it, and I try to have a cheerful attitude about it, but I do it to keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach, not for the joy of scrubbing floors. Saraid choose to become a healer because it fits her well and she had the opportunity, but it’s also a job to her; a job she cares about, but a job all the same.

  6

  Kemen

  “Sir?” A girl peeked around the door shyly.

  “Come in.” It was quite early, and I was getting ready to exercise in the morning coolness. Only servants are up so early, servants and me. “What is it?”

  She stood just inside the doorway as I pulled on my boots. “Could I talk to you a moment?”

  “Aye.” An odd request. It was the young girl I had first seen when I awakened from my fevered dreams after Hakan’s duel with Taisto.

  “My name is Lani.” She bit her lip nervously, but she looked ready enough to smile. “I heard from Sayen that you said you’re not a nobleman. Is that true?”

  “Aye.” I sat up and waited, wondering what she wanted.

  “But you’re not a commoner, are you?”

  “I’m a soldier. But if you’re asking about my birth, I’m common enough. I was a foundling.”

  “You were?” Her eyes widened. “You didn’t ever know your mother and father?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m sorry.” She seemed genuinely aggrieved for me, and I shrugged.

  “I suppose I don’t know what I missed.”

  “Are you married?”

  I blinked at the sudden change in topic. “No, I’m not.” Would I spend every night alone if I were?

  “Have you met my cousin Riona?”

  I nearly laughed then. “I might have. I don’t know many people’s names in the palace yet.”

  “She’s very pretty. She’s nice, too. You should speak to her.”

  “You’re a bit young to be a matchmaker. She didn’t ask you to speak with me, did she?” Surely not. I couldn’t imagine that this Riona was interested in me in the least.

  “Of course not. She’s far too shy f
or that.” She grinned. “Now if you think badly of someone, it will only be of me, and I’m too young for you anyway. I think you’d make her happy. If you were younger I’d ask my father to speak to you on my behalf.”

  I hid a smile. “Thank you. I’d forgotten how ancient I am. I needed that reminder.”

  She looked stricken. “I didn’t mean…”

  This time I did smile. “I’m teasing you. I’m not offended. You’ll make a younger man very happy someday.”

  She grinned at me. “You really should speak to her. You couldn’t do better with any princess. She’s twenty-six. Her parents died a long time ago, or they would do this for her. Well, they probably wouldn’t aim so high as you, but I will. You should talk to her. If I’m too bold, and maybe I am, then she’s too shy and quiet. She deserves better than scrubbing floors, but she’d never reach for it herself.”

  I liked the girl, not least for her persistence. “I’ll speak to her if you point her out to me. But I won’t promise to court her, nor could I promise she would receive my attentions even if I did.”

  “Of course. But I think she might.” She grinned impishly and jumped up. She led me down the hallway and to a window that looked onto the courtyard. “There. Sayen is the pregnant one, and Riona is the one beside her, holding the bucket.”

  “I have spoken with her.”

  She looked up at me. “Really?”

  “Not much. But I know her face. Thank you.” She tripped away, and I wondered what, if anything, I would say to her cousin. I did like her enough, as far as I knew her, but that wasn’t saying much.

  Over the next days I watched Riona when I saw her, though I kept my glances well-hidden. I wanted to see how she spoke with those she knew, how she treated them. She was kind and considerate, even-tempered. I have no tolerance for quick tempers. She had a good humor, smiling often with those she knew, but a humility that seemed quite genuine, a warm and sweet spirit.

  What does a woman want from a suitor? I tried to address the question logically. A handsome face. There was little I could do about that. Tenderness. Concern. Stability. Humor? Perhaps fun? Fidelity, certainly. What else? How could I demonstrate these things? What is love, anyway? How does a woman perceive love? I supposed I wouldn’t know until I spoke with her.