by Patty Jansen
"It's not busy," she said.
"New travel laws," Braedon said. "It's become hard to leave for anyone who's not on business."
Without her aunt, the council would be even more restrictive.
Outside the airport, a blast of wind pelted snowflakes in her face. The cold fingers of the wind reached in the spaces underneath her too-big cloak. Her thin apprentice tunic, which had seemed impossibly hot in Barresh, was no match for the biting cold. At least Rehan was warm on one side of her and his body blocked some of the wind.
A sled with two tiyuk waited outside the building. The animals, two magnificent spotted bulls, stood with their heads lowered against the snow. Steam blew out their bristled noses. The driver, a highland boy, sat huddled in the driver's seat, using his cloak as tent. He gave the group one glance and went back to staring. The people who used his services were Nikala from lower parts of the city who lived too far away to walk.
One of the animals lifted its shaggy head with a great tinkling of the harness. The boy whistled. The animal snorted and continued moving its head up and down. The boy jumped to his feet and grabbed the rope that was attached to the animal's ear rings. The bull snorted and rolled its eyes. The head-tossing was a defensive display that the males of the herd used to ward off animals from a different herd.
Sure enough, another sled came into the street at a trot. The two magnificent beasts snorted when the driver pulled up the reins and stopped in front of Mikandra and the three brothers. Steam rose off their pelts.
"Tarlen!" Taerzo called.
Yes, the driver was the Andrahar groundsman. She had seen him before, a tall and wiry fellow unusual for Nikala. He probably had highland blood, which would explain his skills with the sled.
"Get in," he said. "The army mob is still loose in the streets somewhere. If they get wind that you're back, they'll try to cut us off."
"They tried to stop us at the airport already," Rehan said, while helping Mikandra into the forward-facing seat.
While Tarlen explained how he'd borrowed the sled off a highland cousin of his who was in town for winter, Mikandra sat down. The bench was hard and cold. Braedon came to sit next to her, Rehan and Taerzo opposite. Both with weary looks and their hands under their cloaks.
"I gather things are not well here?" Braedon said.
Tarlen flicked the reins and the sled started moving with great snorting and tossing of heads of the tiyuk as display of power against the animals from the other sled. Like the drivers and passengers, the animals obviously came from different herds.
Tarlen had to shout into the wind to be heard. "They only put out the fire at the Ilendar house yesterday. It's burnt to the ground. It's a crying shame. They've lived in that spot for hundreds of years. All that heritage is lost. Gone."
"Is the house safe?" Rehan asked. "Mother and Gillay?"
"For now. It's become hard to get supplies. We've had to clear and re-open the north gate to get the sleds out to the stores via the fields rather than through the city."
"Access to the airport?"
"Secure, for now."
They crossed the central square. Few people braved the snow, huddled in their cloaks. Lights were on in Merchant Ranuddin's shop, but the rest of the building on the corner was dark. The brothers could now return there to work, but the group of people who stood outside the shop looked like some kind of sentry.
"Those guys have moved further uphill since I left," Rehan said.
Braedon nodded, his face grim.
"Can we still get to the office?"
Braedon shrugged. "Haven't tried. Been too busy surviving at home."
The sled turned the corner past the market hall.
Another group of men stood here, leaning against heaped-up snow fashioned into a wall. In the middle was an opening big enough for the sled. Tracks in the snow showed that Tarlen had come this way. Sleds did not often go into the Edri quarter.
A man shouted. Two figures wearing heavy fur cloaks climbed onto the snow mound.
"It's them!" someone yelled.
Cheers went up. A few more young men climbed on the snow. One of them held a gun.
Taerzo waved to the men as the sled whooshed through the opening. They were mostly young, councillors' or merchants' sons, some Nikala and some Endri. They raised fists and crossbows.
"Has this been going on for long?" Mikandra asked.
"This mob, no," Braedon said. Rehan stared in to the distance. He clearly liked this development as little as she did. "They came out in support of the Ilendar family, but it was too late for them. Look."
There was the Ilendar house, or what was left of it. Most noble houses were built from a stone shell surrounding an interior structure made from plates of pressed straw and cement. While they sheltered against the cold, they were also flammable.
Blackened walls were all that remained of the house, silhouetted against the fast-darkening sky. Wisps of smoke still rose from the ruins.
Slogans had been scrawled on the walls. Miran first and Rich people out. The gates into the yard had been ripped off their hinges. Scores of sooty footsteps led in and out of the yard, some accompanied by drag marks. A half-burnt chair stood as sad sentinel in the middle of the yard, the seat covered in a thin layer of snow.
Mikandra shivered and remembered the times that she'd skipped through the gate and entered the house's huge kitchen. Remembered the smell of cooking. Remembered Aithno Ilendar seated at the table with his reader.
All gone.
Looters had gone through the possessions the family had been forced to leave behind.
In the next street, they ran into another barricade of rocks and bins and half-burned furniture stacked across the road.
Tarlen stopped the sled and for a moment all was silent. He rose and peered into the misty dusk.
Taerzo said, "Whoa, this didn't used to be here when we left."
"They're friendly," Tarlen said. "At least they were when I came this way." There was tension in his voice.
A few furred shapes detached from the mist and came towards the sled.
To the right, were the stately houses with walled yards of the Endri quarter. Her own house was there somewhere, but it seemed Mother and Liseyo didn't live there anymore.
Four men came out from behind the barricade. They were all Endri, three administrators' sons from the Takumar and Azthunar families. One was Thaeron Tussamar's younger brother, a gangly man younger than Mikandra. He held a gun, pointed at the ground in relaxed fashion.
Mikandra stiffened. Did he know that his brother was in the lockup at Guild headquarters for attempting to shoot her?
"These are not allies," she whispered to Braedon.
His face was tense. On the opposite bench, Rehan sat with his jaw clenched and both hands under his cloak. A predator ready to spring.
Taerzo got off the sled. He spoke to the men, and there was some shoulder-clapping and shaking of hands, accompanied by sideways looks at the sled. Not entirely happy. Their cheer was an act.
Taerzo climbed back into the sled.
"Go, quickly!" he whispered under his breath. "Before they change their minds."
The driver flicked the reins and the animals pulled uphill, grumbling and snorting.
Mikandra felt the suspicious gazes of the four men on her as the sled passed. Tarlen spurred the animals on and they ran, snorting and blowing steam. The snow had become heavier.
The sled whooshed through alleys with slogan-riddled walls and overflowing rubbish bins on both sides. One or two maramarang flapped away, disturbed in their scavenging of frozen food scraps.
A few turns later, the sled pulled up at the Andrahar house.
Normally, servants would have cleared the snow, but it had blown in the corners against the walls.
The gates, which she had never seen closed, were shut. Taerzo jumped from the sled and pushed aside a heap of snow so that he could open the gate. It creaked.
When Mikandra climbed from the sled and
slung her bag over her shoulder, the front door of the house opened, and a child yelled, "There he is!"
Two small figures ran into the yard.
"Daddy, Daddy!"
Taerzo ran to meet them. He swept both boys in his arms and swung them around.
A couple of people had come to the porch. Mikandra recognised Isandra, Gillay and Calliandra and a middle-aged woman wearing an apron who had to be the family's cook.
Calliandra now came down the stairs and met Taerzo and the boys in the yard in a big group hug.
"I'm surprised to see you here," he said.
"The house isn't in a safe area." She lowered her voice. "Your mother sent Tarlen to collect us this morning. I think she has finally realised that the boys may be all she's going to see in the way of heirs for a long time."
"I have some news for you on that front. Let's go inside. It's freezing."
Mikandra followed the couple onto the veranda, feeling a bit lost and awkward.
Gillay smiled at her, and the cook bowed, but Isandra's eyes were searching and penetrating. She was slightly shorter than Mikandra, with a sharp face and the same long nose as Rehan. Her hair hung, very proper, loose over her shoulders. It was whiter than the snow in the yard.
"Well, it's you again."
Taerzo protested. "Mother, she is the only reason—"
"Quiet, son." She kept meeting Mikandra's eyes. An icy breeze blasted through the yard. It blew her cloak aside, but the biting cold didn't seem to bother her. "It looks like you are hard to get rid of. That must mean you're part of the family, much as I despise that traitor of a father of yours. He may have replaced his sister, but he isn't half, not a quarter as deserving of the position of High Councillor as she is. Pity she was too weak to stay."
"Mother, stop it—"
"It's all right," Mikandra said. Her father, High Councillor? "Tell me whatever you think of my father, but don't judge me by his actions. If I agreed with him, would I stand here?"
Isandra snorted. "If you agreed with him, you'd probably be on the barricades with the other louts. They're stupid, the lot of them and Miran will pay the price for that stupidity." She turned around abruptly. "There's dinner on the table."
Mikandra followed Braedon inside. Taerzo still had his arm around Calliandra.
Rehan grinned, the first smile she'd seen from him since coming to Miran. "Just so that you know, being hard to get rid of is Mother's way of making a compliment."
"She's even worse than you."
He grinned. "I didn't get it from a stranger, then."
Chapter 33
Inside the house, it was ridiculously warm.
Mikandra shed the cloak in the hall. Gillay took it from her and looked at the collar. Her eyes widened. "Where did you get this?"
"Braedon gave it to me."
"This was Master Jihan's. I thought all his clothes were still in the bedroom."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I didn't mean to—"
Braedon said, "I gave it to her, Gillay. It was either that or nothing."
Gillay clearly didn't like it. Jihan Andrahar had been a legendary figure, and there were some, including in this family, who had never accepted that the crash that claimed his life—into the eastern highlands—had been an accident. With a family this old, you couldn't go far without running into intrigue and suspicion. The house was filled with history and every item had meaning.
Soon, the hall was a chaos of shoes and wet puddles and two mounds of fur that were the boys' cloaks.
Isandra told her grandsons off for not hanging up their cloaks. "If you want to be like your father—and heaven knows who'd ever want to be like him—you better start cleaning up after yourselves."
The boys came back, wearing only socks, looking demure, and hung up their cloaks.
"And greet your new honorary auntie, Mikandra."
They bowed politely, eyes wide and their faces in such an acted display of meekness that Mikandra felt like laughing.
The boys were identical in everything, and introduced themselves as Miruhan and Iztho. The latter name surprised her, but then she remembered that Calliandra's father had also been Iztho.
Mikandra had to hunt for slippers that fitted her, because Calliandra was using the ones that she had used last time when she was at the house.
Dinner had been set not in the dining room but at the large table in the living room, where Mikandra had spent the night checking books.
All those books were now gone, and the table had been moved further to the middle so that there was plenty of room for chairs on all sides. The family's fine tableware stood neatly-arranged at each seat. There was a bowl of fresh bread in the middle and twelve plates on the table. Mikandra counted only eight people.
Braedon said, "Mother, we've gone to Kedras for a couple of days, and you are already trying to use up all our stores. What are we going to eat for the rest of winter? How are we going to get enough fire bricks to keep us warm?"
"We will see," Isandra said. "I'm sure that if it is necessary, we will find a solution. I want us to have one more old-fashioned dinner, like we used to have."
"We haven't eaten here for years."
"Since your father died, in fact" she said. "Those were times of happiness. Once more, let us be happy."
"How can we be happy? The streets outside are a battle zone."
"Tonight, we will pretend not to notice."
"But all the best tableware . . . What's going on, Mother?"
"Tonight, I'm doing something I should have done a long time ago—"
A door opened and shut elsewhere in the house. There was the sound of voices from the hall.
"Ah. There they are."
Three people came into the hall and rummaged in the shoe rack to find slippers. The first, to Mikandra's huge surprise, was Eydrina Lasko, red-cheeked from the cold. The other two were and adult and a child, wrapped in their cloaks. Someone said, "Mikandra?" The voice was a child's, timid and familiar.
Mikandra's heart jumped.
Was that . . . ?
She went into the hall past Gillay and Taerzo who still stood at the door.
"Mother, Liseyo!"
Mikandra crossed the hall in a few steps into both their arms. She buried her face in Mother's dress. "You're all right! I was so worried."
Tears ran down Mother's cheeks. "I thought I'd never see you again. Look at you." She held Mikandra by the shoulder with one hand while wiping her cheeks with the back of her other hand. "Wearing the uniform already. And you look so healthy. Your face has colour."
Mikandra held her arm next to Liseyo's. Her skin had become noticeably darker in Barresh.
"I heard that Father is in the High-council. What happened? You left the house?"
Mother's face twitched. "He blamed me for what you did. For days and days, he'd rant at me at the dinner table while Liseyo was watching. He blamed me for having useless daughters. He blamed me for your refusal to marry Geonan Takumar. It was all because I wasn't any good." She took in a deep breath, nostrils flaring. She had lost weight and the wrinkles on her face had grown. And now that the first shock of meeting them was gone, Mikandra noticed other things, like the mouldy smell of Mother's clothes.
She continued in a low voice. "It was worse at night. One day, Liseyo walked into the bathroom and she saw where he'd . . . hit me. And then she said she would stand up for me like you had done for her. I was afraid and I told her not to, because he would hit her, too. And then . . ." Her lip trembled. "One day it was really bad. He always hurt me where people couldn't tell . . . if you understand what I mean."
Her eyes were intense.
Mikandra couldn't bite her lip hard enough to stop the tears. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. It's because of you that I had the courage to get up when he was asleep and leave the house."
"Didn't he come after you?"
"Yes, but I told my sister everything and her husband protected me, but their house is not very big and they have his
mother living with them. We've moved into a place of our own now."
But they clearly had no money for heating or new clothes. "How do you survive?"
"I mend clothes for a couple of families. People from the theatre have given us money." She didn't meet Mikandra's eyes. All her life she would have been taught that accepting charity was shameful.
"You should have told me."
"I couldn't. Rosep said you'd gone to Kedras."
"You only needed to have asked at the office. They would have contacted me."
Poor, poor Mother. Always timid, trying not to upset people, living in the shadow of Father. Leaving the house must have been a huge step for her.
"Enough with the sad stories now," Isandra said. "Sit down everyone."
Everyone chose seats at the table. Mikandra sat next to Liseyo, whose eyes seemed bigger than her face. Isandra made a big fuss over Taerzo and Calliandra who had to sit closest to the hearth, and next to each other.
Isandra remained standing at the head of the table.
"Tonight, we celebrate happiness. I wanted this to be a special occasion, and that is why I've invited Eydrina. Taerzo, Calliandra." She held out both hands. "It's time that we right the mistakes of the past. I should have given you the big wedding with the parade and the ceremony at the Foundation monument. Unfortunately, we can't do that today, so we may need to save that for another day. Today, however, you will be married before Mirani law." She went to a cabinet against the back wall, took something out and came back to the table with a familiar box. The wedding arm bands.
Taerzo was still staring at his mother. "Why this? Why now?"
"Shhh." Calliandra touched his arm. He gave her a bewildered look, and she smiled at him, clearly in on the plan.
Then he gaped at his sons. The twins, on Calliandra's other side, sat very quiet. Not their usual behaviour at all. One of them gave his father an innocent smile.
Taerzo laughed, but the tone of his voice betrayed that he was deeply moved. "You plan my life in my absence, huh? Don't you want a big party?"
Isandra said, "At the moment, neither our fellow Endri nor our city deserves a party at our expense—if you would come forward to speak the vows please, Eydrina."