But it had stood up to the scrutiny he’d given it since. The Matriarch was adamant that the only wizards she’d allow into Ramunna were those who would fight the Marvannans for her. Elkan was positive the Mother wouldn’t approve of them using her power that way. Marvanna was controlled by the Purifiers, so was closed to them. From what Nalini had told him about Giroda, its leaders were unlikely to welcome wizards, either. He didn’t see any way to continue what they’d started. And if they couldn’t, sealing off Tevenar from outside contact seemed the course of action most likely to preserve what they had.
He looked up to see Josiah watching him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I got lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?”
Before Josiah could reply, the door to the stairwell opened. They both looked over. Meira emerged and headed toward them, Ravid toddling at her side. Elkan’s heart caught as it always did at the sight of her.
She grinned ruefully at both of them. “Discussing strategy?” She grabbed Ravid’s hand as he headed for the parapet. “You couldn’t pick a more convenient spot?”
“At least we know none of Hanion’s friends are listening to us.” Josiah looked pointedly around the flat expanse of the roof, void of any potential concealment.
“Unless they use a window. Would this be considered a private place or a public one?”
“Public,” Elkan said. “But it doesn’t matter. I have nothing to hide.”
“Not anymore,” Josiah said. “But actually, discussing strategy is a good idea. We ought to get Todira and a few of your other strong supporters up here and start making plans. There’s more space here than in your room, and it’s a lot cooler than the courtrooms. Sar can warn us if it’s going to rain.”
Elkan wished he could forget about the election until it happened. But that wouldn’t be fair to those who’d committed themselves to his cause. “All right. Go find Todira and Hadara and Orine and bring them up here. We’ll have a brief meeting to consider what we’re going to do over the next few days.”
“Yes, sir!” Josiah jumped off the parapet and raced for the stairs. Sar switched an ear back and forth and stayed put.
Meira scooped Ravid into her arms and moved to stand at Elkan’s elbow. “What a beautiful view. Why haven’t you brought me up here before?”
He put his arm around her waist and drew her close. “We’ve both been too busy, I guess.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “When you’re Guildmaster you’ll be even busier.”
“If I become Guildmaster, you mean.”
She shrugged, her body moving against his. “Zagan is leaving for Shalinthan at the end of the week. I’ve got to find a new arrangement for Ravid. Either another single parent to split days with, or—” She shrugged again.
Elkan’s stomach went hollow. “I can only work half days if I arrange with the Smiths’ Guild to formally adopt Ravid. Is that what you want?”
She was quiet for a long time. Finally she asked, “Is it what you want?”
He took a deep breath. This conversation had always been inevitable. He just wished he’d been able to delay it longer. “It depends on what our future is going to be.”
“Is there any question about that?”
Before he could answer, Ravid squirmed. “Down!”
“Not now, nugget.” She glanced at the low wall and shuddered.
“Tobi can watch him.”
His familiar gave a long-suffering sigh and rose from her relaxed sprawl. Meira shot the drop another doubtful glance, then relented and let Ravid slide down. They’d called on Tobi to babysit before, and she’d proven deft at keeping him out of trouble. Don’t let him too near the edge.
Of course.
Ravid set off purposefully across the roof, Tobi glued to his side. Meira turned back to Elkan with a sigh. “Well?”
“Now might not be the best time to discuss this. Josiah’s going to be back with Todira and the others soon.”
“It shouldn’t take long, should it? Not for me, anyway. I love you, Elkan. I want to marry you. I think Ravid’s ready now, as much as he’ll ever be. He adores you.”
His heart thudded in his chest. He chose his words very carefully. “And I love him. And you, Meira. But I don’t want to rush into anything we might regret later.”
“I’m not going to regret it if we stand up together. Will you?” Her gaze challenged him.
He closed his eyes. “Not if we can make it work. But I don’t know if we can. You’re a guildmaster, and I might be. We’re both going to have enormous pressures on us. Enormous demands on our time and resources. That’s hard on a marriage.” He opened his eyes and met hers, trying to make her understand. “We’ve only been together a month. We’re still caught up in the first rush of infatuation. When that wears off, things will change. Things that seem easy now might prove impossible.”
She gazed back at him. He couldn’t tell how badly his words had hurt her. But they must have done some damage. If she’d said them to him, he’d be devastated.
To his shock, her lips quirked into a rueful smile. “I’m not Liand,” she said softly.
He opened his mouth, although he didn’t know what he was going to say. She put her fingertips on his lips. “Shh. I’m not. I’m not going to turn around one day and say I don’t love you and I never did. I’m not going to ask for our bond to be broken. I’m not going to leave you.”
She removed her fingers. Elkan clenched his fists. He didn’t want to say what he was thinking. It was cruel, and unfair, and she didn’t deserve to hear it. But it was true, and if he didn’t say it now it would fester like an infected wound.
“But you already have.” He rushed to get the words out before she could interrupt. “I know it was shock and pain and grief talking, and you didn’t really mean it, and it’s horribly wrong of me to hold it against you. But you told me I meant nothing to you. You told me to go away.” He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear the hurt he saw in hers. “And a part of me believes it’s only a matter of time until you do it again.”
She didn’t answer. His words rang in the silence.
When he finally dared open his eyes, she nodded slowly. “You don’t trust me.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat. “I want to. I want to desperately. But I don’t know how.”
She bit her lip. “And I don’t know how to prove to you that you can.”
Silence stretched long between them. Finally Elkan said, “If it were just me, I’d risk it. I’d stand up with you and deal with whatever came. But there’s Ravid, too. He’s already lost one father. If I adopt him and later you and I divorce, he’ll be hurt. I would take my commitment seriously, I’d never abandon him, but he’d still suffer. And that would be a bond between us that could never be broken, even if we wanted nothing more to do with each other. Even more so if we were to have other children together.”
She turned to look at Ravid, who was gathering dead leaves into a pile under Tobi’s watchful stare. “That’s all true.”
Elkan spread his hands. He felt strangely light, now that everything he’d been holding back was on the table. “That’s why I can’t marry you.”
After what seemed a very long time, she looked back at him. “All right.”
She was so calm. Elkan felt dizzy. “It’s over?”
“I didn’t say that.” She regarded him seriously. “You can’t trust me right now, but I trust you. I believe you when you say you love me. I know you would never do anything to hurt me or Ravid. I want whatever you’re able to give.” She looked down at her left hand rubbing her right wrist. “I broke your trust, and the only way to regain it is to earn it back over time. I’m willing to try, if you’re willing to give me a chance.”
He couldn’t believe that she’d heard the full awful truth and wasn’t running away. “What does that mean?”
“We go on like we have been, until you’re ready to take the next step. However long that is.” She stepped close and put her arms around his wais
t, tilting her head up invitingly. “I’d rather have half of you than any other man’s whole.”
He recognized the echo of words she’d spoken to him long ago. He kissed her as he’d wanted to kiss her then, with abandon. She returned it with equal ardor. He didn’t dare examine this miracle too closely lest it evaporate. But he would savor every moment she was willing to give him. Maybe she was right, and all he needed was time. Hope was so sweet it was almost pain.
She broke away, jerking her head toward the door that led to the stairs. “I hear voices.”
He forced his voice as close as he could to a normal, amused tone. “You don’t want them to catch us acting like a couple of love-sick apprentices?”
“I’d rather not.” She tugged at her tunic, though it didn’t look disarrayed to him, and smoothed a stray lock of his hair behind his ear.
She stepped back to a decorous distance as the door opened. Todira emerged, carrying a lantern that cut through the deepening twilight. At least a dozen more of Elkan’s strongest supporters followed. Josiah brought up the rear. He grinned and spread his hands. “When they heard what we were doing, they all wanted to come.”
Hadara gave him a warm hug. “Dabiel would be pleased with the way you handled yourself down there.” Whiskers chittered in agreement. “I’m glad we’re getting another chance to carry out her wishes.”
One by one the other masters followed her example, hugging him or clasping his hand or slapping him on the shoulder. Vethon snorted. “Hanion should have joined the Players’ Guild. He certainly knows how to stage a dramatic scene.” His familiar, Cloud, a seagull, squawked and bobbed her head.
Nachra rolled her eyes. “As if any of us believe he’ll actually go through with it.” She stroked the brightly-striped snake coiled around her wrist. “Sethi thinks he’ll say that Mavke talked him out of it.”
“You should send him to Thedan, afterwards, so you never have to deal with him again,” Todira added.
Elkan soaked up the warmth of their trust and confidence. But he had to make sure they knew what they were committing themselves to. “You might be right. But it’s entirely possible he means to carry out his threat.”
Orine frowned and stroked her familiar Thorn, a large goat with big, floppy ears. “That’s between him, his familiar, and the Mother. It’s not our responsibility to save him from his foolishness.”
The others all murmured their agreement. None of the familiars gave any sign of objecting. Elkan let out his breath. “I hope we can convince enough of the others of that.”
“That’s what we’re here to figure out.” Vethon tossed Cloud into the air and sat down on the parapet. The seagull circled overhead, then flew toward the ocean.
Everyone else gathered around. Meira gave him an encouraging smile. Josiah grinned broadly. The other masters looked at him attentively.
Resolve solidified in Elkan’s heart. Maybe they could do this, after all.
Of course you can, Tobi told him.
Elkan looked around at his audience. “All right. First, we need to go through all the masters and identify who’s with us, who’s with Hanion, and who’s undecided. Josiah, make a list. Todira, who have you spoken to so far?”
Forty-Nine
Tenorran huddled on the bench behind the long table, nursing his fifth surprisingly good ale of the evening, listening to the conversation ebb and flow around him. He was tired, and his thoughts and emotions were a jumble of confused impressions. He wanted to retreat to his quiet bed where he could make an attempt to sort out everything he’d seen and experienced, but at the same time he didn’t want this incredible night to end.
Sachiel leaned over. “We’ll need to head home soon. Firstday starts early when you’re founding a new guild. Meira’s got a dozen things she wants done before midmorning.”
“Of course. Don’t let me keep you.” Not that he’d have any tasks to keep him busy tomorrow. His mother insisted he stay in the tent, idling away the long hours waiting for her to go into labor. She’d only granted him these few precious hours of freedom because Lord Renarre had spoken on his behalf. Tenorran suspected that was more because he wanted a little privacy with his wife than out of any concern for him or the guards and servants he’d also urged her to give Restday leave. The dividing walls of the tent were opaque, but they did little to block sound.
Sachiel studied him, concern in his eyes. “You’re awfully quiet. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself today.”
“I have,” Tenorran assured him. “Very much.”
He’d been standing in the plaza outside the Mother’s Hall after the Restday service, the noisy crowd flowing around him, wondering how best to spend his unexpected bounty of free time. Sachiel and Jaron had emerged from the bustling throng and cheerfully invited him to accompany them and some of their friends to a restaurant for the midday meal. Apprehensive but unbearably curious, Tenorran had accepted. This was his opportunity to find out if what Elkan had told him about Tevenar was really true.
The three of them had walked to an area near the market, gathering companions as they went. The group was made up of both men and women, mostly journeymen with a few young masters. Sachiel and Jaron had introduced Tenorran around. The Tevenarans had eyed him with curiosity, some reserved or hostile, but most apparently willing to tolerate their former enemy or even welcome him.
Over the midday meal they’d plied him with questions about Ramunna, which he’d answered to the best of his ability. In return they’d regaled him with accounts of life in Tevenar. He hadn’t dared ask about the subject that concerned him most, but he hadn’t needed to. Plenty was said during the course of the conversation to confirm everything he’d barely dared hope.
It was all so… ordinary. Casual gossip about their friends’ lives included mention of couples comprised of two men or two women in terms and tones indistinguishable from what was used to discuss pairs including one of each. Jaron and Sachiel weren’t the only ones holding hands and sitting next to each other, and no one blinked. Several young men spoke to Tenorran with open interest. He was far too overwhelmed to do more than stammer polite replies, his eyes downcast, but none of them seemed to take offense.
After the meal, the group moved to an establishment similar to a Ramunnan tavern. Long wooden tables filled the big room, with a clear space at one end where musicians sang and played music for dancing. Ale and wine were available at one counter, food at another. Someone tried to explain about the collaboration between several guilds that made such places possible, but Tenorran couldn’t follow the complex politics involved.
After his first ale, he let himself be persuaded to take part in a session of group dances. Couples formed momentarily, split apart, and reformed in different combinations, with no regard for the gender of those involved. After his second, he accepted an invitation from one of the young men for a round of stones-and-squares. The ancient game was played here just as it was in Ramunna, aside from a few local variations in the rules. Tenorran was tongue-tied at first, but his opponent kept the conversation relaxed, pertaining mostly to innocuous subjects when not focused on the game itself. Tenorran got caught up in the strategy and was able to forget his discomfort for long minutes at a time. After a hard-fought endgame the Tevenaran edged him out for the victory. They exchanged a warm handclasp. But when the young man expressed interest in further interaction, Tenorran demurred and retreated to the table with another ale.
The rest of the lazy afternoon and evening was filled with more songs, games, dancing, eating, and drinking. Tenorran danced with partners both male and female, sang until he was hoarse, ate until he was stuffed, and drank enough to keep himself from thinking too hard about what any of it meant. He spent every coin in his purse; when he ran out of Tevenaran ones the vendors were happy to take those minted in Ramunna.
But no matter how much he let himself sink into the welcoming atmosphere, a part of him remained acutely aware that he was an outsider. He was only visiting this corner of paradise. Bec
ause of who he was and the choices he’d made, it could never be his home.
Sachiel turned back to his conversation with the others, but before long he and Jaron rose and made their farewells. Tenorran fielded a chorus of good-byes, a myriad of invitations to come back, and a few specific invitations to stay and explore the possibility of deepening relationships. One or two he might have considered accepting under other circumstances, but he declined them all and followed Jaron and Sachiel out and through the dark, quiet streets.
His hosts walked with their arms around each other’s waists, talking quietly. Tenorran trailed them. For a while he watched them, but eventually he had to turn away, heart aching with envy and grief for what he’d never have.
As they neared the Ramunnan camp, they fell back to walk beside him. “Join us again next Restday?” Jaron asked.
“I’d better not.” Tenorran met their puzzled frowns. “Tell me the truth. Did Elkan ask you to do this?”
They exchanged glances. Sachiel said, “No, but Master Meira did mention that you might appreciate it if we offered our friendship. I suppose Elkan might have asked her to. Although why would he?”
“Because he wants to prove to me how much better Tevenar is than Ramunna. He wants an ally in my mother’s inner circle.”
Sachiel looked baffled, but he grinned. “Of course Tevenar is far superior to Ramunna. But I don’t see how a day out with us would prove that to the Matriarch’s son.”
“You’d be surprised.” He shook his head at their innocence. “Ramunna is different. Very different. Don’t ever go there.”
Sachiel was about to speak again, but Jaron put a hand on his arm. “Maybe sometime you can tell us more. But I can see you’re tired, and so are we, so we’ll take our leave now. Any time you’d like to get together again, just let us know.”
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