Their pace picked up as he told his own news, slowed only a bit by the arrival of Torchay’s sedili. Kallista let them share news of the valley, delaying their own stories until they were all together.
They found Aisse and the babies ensconced in the great communal hall in the center of the clustered houses, used also for visiting guests. Kallista swooped down on her twins where they played on a pallet of furs, just in time to see Lorynda roll onto her stomach and poke her sister in the eye. They had grown so much, had learned so many new things, and Kallista hadn’t been present to see it. She held them both in her arms, though Rozite squirmed and protested, covering them in tears and kisses while Torchay told their news.
He introduced their new marked ones. Stone didn’t assault Joh. They’d been friends of a sort before the explosion. Aisse did, blacking his eye before Obed could pull her away.
Tales all told, Torchay’s family had withdrawn, leaving their ilian alone together. Kallista sat snuggled against Stone, finally giving the twins up to Torchay for his turn at baby cuddling.
“Never again,” she said. “We are not ever again separating like this, I don’t care who suggests it.”
“The babies can’t go into battle,” Aisse said, but mildly, as if merely curious.
“No, but they don’t have to be so far away to be safe. We can protect them better if we’re together. We can
hide
them better.” Kallista looked around the shadow-filled room, suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen someone. “Where is Merinda? Didn’t she make it through all right?”
“She made it through just fine,” Stone said. “Unless you count the stomach trouble she’s suffered the last few weeks.”
Kallista rolled her head down his arm to look him in the eye. “What sort of—?”
“I think she’s pregnant.” Aisse looked up from where she leaned against Fox admiring their month-old infant.
“What?” Kallista sat up straight. “How? No—I know that. But—when?
Why?
”
Fox and Stone exchanged red-faced looks. “
Is
she ilias? The same as the rest?” Stone asked. “We didn’t know. Not for sure. And she kept
pushing
. So we…”
“We talked,” Aisse said. “And I told them—
we agreed
they should, to turn her attention from the magic.”
“Were we wrong?” Fox asked quietly.
“No.” Kallista shook her head. “No, you weren’t wrong. Merinda is ilias—but if she’s pregnant, it’s not temporary anymore. I should have explained it better. I should have known sending three Tibrans off—”
“Is it such a bad thing?” Torchay laid a restless Rozite on the pallet where she began playing with the tassels on Obed’s boots. “You said we would be nine.”
“I said I
thought
so.”
“Merinda is not marked.” Obed removed his boot to make it easier for Rozite to reach.
“Neither was I when we married,” Torchay said. “Or Aisse.” He held Lorynda on his shoulder, patting her to sleep.
Kallista sighed. “And there is the child. I suppose we ought to be certain there really is a child before we go any further. We have to hold a wedding anyway. Might as well marry three as two.” She made a face and reached a hand toward Joh and Viyelle. “That sounded awful, as if I didn’t want any of you. It’s not true.”
Joh blew her a kiss from beyond Obed. Viyelle reached across Stone and squeezed her hand. “We know. It’s just confusing. Goddess knows, I’m confused.”
“So.” Kallista planted her hands on Stone’s and Torchay’s knees to either side and pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll go have a little chat with Merinda, shall I?”
“Wait. I’ll come with you.” Torchay moved as if to hand Lorynda off to Obed.
“No, stay. Reacquaint yourself with your daughter.”
“I’m still your bodyguard, Major.”
“I will go.” Obed passed Rozite to Joh and stamped his foot back into his boot as he stood. “I also serve as bodyguard.”
“And ilias,” Viyelle said. “You know, Major, it is more proper for two to pay respects, with this size ilian.”
Kallista made a disgusted noise deep in her throat. “Why is it, if I’m a major, no one pays any attention to what I say?”
“Because you’re
our
major.” Stone grinned at her. “And we don’t have to.”
Torchay’s grin appeared. “Can’t deny truth, Major.”
She couldn’t smack all of them, not without it degenerating into a wrestling match. So she rolled her eyes, shook her head and walked out, Obed chuckling at her heels.
At the door she turned back. “Don’t suppose any of you might know where I could find Merinda, do you?”
“In the temple, maybe,” Aisse offered. “She’s been spending a lot of time there. When she hasn’t been puking.”
The small temple sat on the highest spot in the village, its white-painted compass vane drawing the eye for leagues. The temple house across the lone plaza on the south was sized for a six-person ilian—more than this area would need.
Kallista climbed the winding path, wondering whether Merinda actually was the ninth intended for them. She was a naitan in her own right, unlike the other godmarked. Still, the One could use any who offered, and there was a child to be considered—if child there was.
Merinda sat on the east side of the central sanctuary on one of the benches provided for the elderly and infirm, leaning against the wall behind her as if weary beyond all bearing. She was thinner than Kallista remembered, no longer the plump cheerful midwife-healer who’d come from Arikon to their mountain home for the twins’ birth and stayed. The journey to Korbin had obviously been hard on her. Perhaps too hard.
Obed laid a hand on Kallista’s shoulder as she squared them, offering silent support. She stepped fully into the wood-floored sanctuary with its painted compass rose. “Merinda?”
The other woman startled, then jumped to her feet, pulling at the bracelets on her arm. “Here.” She thrust them at Kallista. “Ilias no more. The need is ended.”
Kallista took them, fearing Merinda would drop them on the floor if she didn’t—her own bracelet given to her by Torchay at the first wedding, and Torchay’s anklet from Stone. “There’s no need for such haste.” She spoke gently, as gently as an army officer could.
“There is also no need for delay.” Merinda backed away. Would have run away if she dared, Kallista thought.
“Is there not?”
The healer’s eyes rolled as she looked from Kallista to Obed and back. “No, of course not. No reason at all. The need is ended. We’re all safe in Korbin.”
No use hinting at meanings. Kallista asked it, point blank. “Merinda, are you pregnant?”
Her eyes got wider and she backed into the bench where she sat down with a thump. “What does it matter if I am or not?”
Goddess, this was a role for someone else, not a mannerless soldier, naitan or no.
Think of it as practice
. The girls would not be babies forever. “You know it matters, Merinda. The sire is one of our iliasti. We have a responsibility to this child. It is ours as well as yours. You’re already ilias. We have only to formalize it.”
“But I don’t want to,” she wailed, burying her face in her hands. “I thought it would be grand, living in your fine house, going to court, meeting with the Reinine. But it’s
awful
. People
hate
you. People try to
kill
you. There are swords and blood and dead people everywhere you go. I hate it! I hate being afraid all the time.”
Dear Goddess, had she gotten pregnant deliberately?
Kallista wanted to be angry, but she was too tired. Besides, she could understand wanting something and discovering when one had it that it wasn’t at all what was expected. Merinda had been ilias when she took their warriors into her body. She hadn’t done anything either illegal or immoral. Yet. Evading the consequences of what she had done would cross that line.
Kallista touched Obed’s arm to ease the anger coming through the link. “It’s too late now to change your mind, my dear.”
“It’s early on. The soul hasn’t yet taken root.”
“Is that truly what you want to do?” Kallista hid her shock. Healers rarely ended a pregnancy. Something about their East magic made it more difficult for them than for others.
“No.” Merinda sounded miserable. “But I’m afraid. I’m tired of being afraid.”
Kallista sat beside the younger woman and put an arm around her. “You don’t have to be. We’ll protect you. We kept you safe all the way up here.”
“Safe?” Merinda jerked away to stare at Kallista in horror. “I’ve been caught in a blizzard, shoved rolling down a mountainside, hidden in cave after cave after cave afraid even to breathe lest someone hear me. I’ve eaten things I don’t even want to know what they were. I’m bruised, battered, cut and scraped. There isn’t one part of me that doesn’t hurt even after two weeks’ rest, and you call that safe?”
“Yes.” Kallista held back her amusement. She knew Merinda wouldn’t appreciate it. “You’re here. You’re alive. You may be bruised and battered, but you’re not maimed. Your injuries won’t even scar, not like Fox’s. Comfort isn’t the same as safety.”
“You don’t understand,” Merinda wailed.
“I do. Believe me, I understand.” Kallista stifled her sigh. Merinda wouldn’t appreciate that either. “I think it’s you who failed to understand a few things. You saw us at court. You didn’t pay attention to the fact that most of us are soldiers. As soldiers, we
can
keep you safe. But as soldiers, our lives are not always comfortable. We have our duties. And one of those duties is to you and this child.
Our
child.”
Now Kallista let her sigh out. Anger might have been preferable. It would have felt better anyway. “Marry us, Merinda. Formalize the relationship. Then, after the child comes and everything is in order, if you still feel the same way, you can sever the ties then. Your child is ours, too. Don’t deny us that. Do the right thing.”
Merinda swiped tears from her dripping cheeks. “I hate this. But I know you’re right. I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Kallista lifted Merinda from the bench as she stood. “Come with us. Meet the others—there will be three of you joining us in this wedding.”
Merinda’s expression soured, something Kallista hadn’t thought possible. Did she expect a separate ceremony just for her? Goddess help them all. They had neither time nor aptitude for dealing with such moodiness. Obed had been bad enough.
Once more, Viyelle stood under the sky and the spreading branches of apple trees, though this time they were filled with tiny green fruit rather than pink and white blossoms. With her, spaced evenly around the compass rose created on the orchard floor by colored chalk stood all the members of the ilian she was about to join. Viyelle had always expected to marry, but she had never expected it to
matter
. Not like this.
Truth told, marriage had been a thing to dread, even had she been able to escape her mother’s intentions. She had never expected this giddy anticipation, never thought she would feel more than tolerant resignation toward more than one or two of her iliasti. Instead—
She smoothed out a wrinkle in her deep rose-red wedding tunic, standing a fraction straighter as Kallista crossed the circle to take her hands. Bracelet already given, the naitan spoke the vows binding them together.
Viyelle liked Kallista. She admired and respected her, in some ways envied her, and in others—she was grateful she didn’t have the major’s problems. In many ways, Viyelle felt as if she were marrying someone out of the old legends, who wasn’t quite mortal, who performed nine impossible tasks before breakfast every day. In truth, she was. More astonishing, Viyelle had herself somehow become one of those legendary beings.
Aisse slipped a bracelet onto Viyelle’s right wrist, repeating the ancient words as Viyelle watched and listened. This woman she didn’t know well, but given the stories Stone told of their ride north, Aisse matched the rest of them. Viyelle hoped yet again that she could live up to their standards.
Torchay came next, another she liked and respected. She found his reluctance to share with her the physical side of marriage frustrating, but had to respect it as well. He was so obviously deeply in love with Kallista.
Stone. Viyelle had been attracted to him from the first, had seen him as a tragic, romantic character from an old jonglier’s song. Now as she began to know him a little, she understood what a silly idea that had been. Yet one thing remained. He was a man she could love, maybe more easily because of who he truly was.
Obed approached to say his vows, all dark mystery and brooding emotion. He seethed with it, the sort of man she would once have made a fool of herself over, the sort she had believed Stone to be. Thank heaven he focused all that moody attention on Kallista. Still, Viyelle couldn’t help liking him.
Then Fox came, bringing his bracelet to slide on her left wrist with the four others chiming there. Stone’s
brodir
. They were as close as sedili and each as beautiful, as golden as the other. But Fox held that tragic core Stone didn’t have. He didn’t brood or seethe, but it was there and it made Viyelle shiver. She could fall in love with this man, too.
After Fox, it was Joh’s turn. Ordinarily it would have been Viyelle’s turn and then Merinda’s, as all three were binding themselves into the ilian today, but Joh and Viyelle were already bound by oath, bracelet and the marking of the One to at least a part of the ilian, ties more complete than the arrangement with Merinda. Joh had been marked and bound first, so he would go first.
Viyelle studied him as he took her hands and spoke his vows, his bracelet already on her wrist. He wore his hair loose today—Kallista’s request—and it framed his serious face. He was reserved and thoughtful, quiet, kind—the sort of man she’d never noticed, much less thought about. But she liked him, too. And she loved his attentive, meticulous approach to sex.
Now it was Viyelle’s turn to cross the smudged compass rose to each of the others, to say her vows and give her bands, those not already given. Seven times she repeated the words, kissed their lips. The ceremony seemed endless with so many swearing vows. The eighth time, she crossed the rose to Merinda, carrying the band provided from Obed’s seemingly inexhaustible store. She’d brought her own bands for the iliasti she knew about: Stone, Fox and Aisse. Merinda had been a surprise to all of them.