Royal Airs (22 page)

It wasn’t far from the dinner hour, still daylight at this time of year, by the time Rafe paid off the driver and strolled up to the front door. Most of the family members were probably still working in the fields, he realized, but his sharp knock on the open door elicited the sound of a woman’s voice promising she’d be there momentarily. And before long Nerri appeared, looking flushed and frazzled and very pregnant.

She stared for only a second or two before she recognized him. “Rafe! I didn’t know we were expecting you! Come on in.”

He stepped into the
kierten
, a comfortably sized space made entirely of burnished wood planks—walls, ceiling, floor. He’d always felt like he was stepping inside a highly polished casket.

“You’re looking well,” he told her, and earned a grimace for that.

“I’m looking like a
cow
,” she said. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, and her swelling belly pushed against the loose fabric of her plain green top. She hadn’t bothered with an overtunic and, indeed, looked like she was hot enough that she’d like to dispense with the clothes she
was
wearing. But she
did
look good—rosy, vibrant, full of life. “But it was nice of you to lie.”

He grinned. “City manners,” he said.

“Would you like something to eat or drink? How long are you staying?” she asked, leading the way into the kitchen. Rafe barely bothered glancing at the other rooms they passed, all of them familiar from his miserable years under this roof. Everywhere, the rich wood paneling was complemented by sturdy furniture and hand-sewn drapes over the wide windows. Intellectually, Rafe knew that it was a comfortable, well-maintained, even welcoming place, but he had so thoroughly hated living here that he still couldn’t appreciate its unpretentious charms.

“Only a night or two. And I’m sorry to just show up like this. But I got a note from Steff and I realized how long it had been since I saw him—and I figured I could get here as quickly as a letter could.”

The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was spacious and well maintained, floored with stone instead of wood, and redolent of baking meat. Nerri waved him to a long table where she prepared the food and fed the family.

“
I’m
hungry, of course—I’m always hungry—so I’m going to have a bowl of soup and some bread. Do you want some?”

“That would be great.”

When they were seated across from each other at one end of the table, Nerri heaved a sigh. “Steff isn’t happy here. No more than you were. Bors tells him he has to stay until he’s eighteen, but I don’t know that he will. Every morning I check his bed first to be sure he hasn’t run off in the night.”

“Where would he go?”

She gave him a quick, keen look. Her jewel-blue eyes were the only things about her that were actually beautiful. It was as if she’d hurried through the marketplace of physical attributes, resisting all the gorgeous hues and textures offered for hair and skin, but when some enterprising vendor offered her a choice of eye colors, she just couldn’t help herself. “Well, my suspicion is that he would run to you. But my heart nearly stops when I think of a sixteen-year-old boy trying to make his way through that great city all by himself, looking for one man.”

Rafe had to admit the prospect was chilling, though Chialto wasn’t particularly dangerous if you stayed within the circle of the Cinque. “I’ll talk to him.”

Nerri leaned her elbows on the table. “Well, get him to think more than a few quintiles into the future, would you? He wants to leave the farm and make his own way, fine. But what does he want that way to look like? Does he want to sign up to be a soldier, take a job on a merchant ship, study a profession? We’ll help him, but he needs a plan, or he’ll just be adrift his whole life.”

Rafe nodded. “As I know.”

Her lovely eyes were on his face again. “I don’t mean to be unkind, but you haven’t made much of your life, Rafe.”

“I know,” he said again.

“If Steff
does
run away to you, I hope you have a place to offer him that’s safe. That’s secure. Where he might look for a decent job and make suitable friends.”

She didn’t end her speech on an interrogative note, but she didn’t have to. She and Bors had visited him once in the city, and even Rafe had been embarrassed. They hadn’t stayed, of course, not for longer than it took them to write out the address of a quiet hotel they’d found in the Plaza district. And Nerri was right. Steff couldn’t stay with him, either. Rafe had never thought that far ahead, but he would never subject his younger brother to the rough education of the slums.

After a long silence, he answered, “I’ll work on that.”

“Good. Let me show you where you can sleep tonight. Steff will be so excited to see you.”

 • • • 

I
n fact, the whole damn lot of them seemed pleased to have Rafe in their midst that night. Steff had greeted him with a wide grin but a punch on the arm instead of a hug. A gangly kid nearly Rafe’s height, he was clearly conscious of trying to behave more like a man. The little ones—two boys and a girl ranging in age from eight to two—danced around him with truly exhausting energy, demanding that he look at this or answer that or show them another card trick
and
another one.

Even Bors had seemed glad enough to see him, clapping him on the back and managing a brief smile. Bors was big and brown and slow and certain, and the earth would have to cave in beneath his feet to get him to move from this place. He had no malice and no imagination, and to this day Rafe had no idea what Bors and his mother had ever seen in each other. His memories of her were few but vivid; she had been slim and sweet and brilliant and magical. What had drawn her to this severe and heavy man? Why had he wanted to hold on to her? Nerri was so obviously the woman he should have married in the first place.

“So what’s going on in the wicked city?” Bors asked over dinner. It was the same question he asked every time Rafe saw him.

“The usual wickedness,” Rafe replied with a smile. “Everyone is planning for the big changeday celebration. There’s talk that the crown prince of Berringey is coming for a visit. There are more elaymotives on the street every day. Oh, and Kayle Dochenza—the man who invented smoker cars—he wants to invent cars that fly.”

“I hope I live long enough to see that,” Nerri commented, passing around a platter of meat. “I thought I’d be too terrified to ever ride in an elaymotive, but now I have, a dozen times, and I want one!” She gestured around the kitchen, where they were all crowded around the long table for the meal. “And did you notice? We have gaslight in the house now. Even gas for cooking on the stove! For the first nineday, all I could think about was how the whole place would catch on fire. But now I love it.”

Conversation continued in this pleasant but impersonal way for the whole meal. Not until the dishes were cleared and Nerri was taking the younger ones off for their baths did Rafe get a chance to speak to Steff alone.

“Why don’t you show Rafe the new grain thresher?” Bors said. Steff was dragging his brother out the back door toward one of the new outbuildings before Rafe even had a chance to respond with an insincere, “That sounds interesting.”

“The new
grain thresher
,” Steff burst out once they were out of earshot of the house. “The new
irrigation system
. My life is a nightmare. If people aren’t talking machinery, they’re talking weather. I honestly think I’ll go insane if I’m here through one more harvest.”

They circled around to the back of the new shed, where a padlocked door kept the equipment safe from thieves, but it was clear neither of them had any interest in going in. Rafe leaned his back against the sun-warmed wall and grinned sympathetically at his brother.

“I understand
exactly
what you’re going through,” he said. “But Nerri says your father wants you to stay another year or two.”

“I don’t think I can stand it! Rafe, you have no idea—”

“I do,” Rafe interrupted. “The labor’s hard, the conversation is dull, the kids are annoying, and you feel like you’re the only living creature surrounded by people made of stone or clay. No one else is real. Or if they’re real, they certainly don’t understand you.”

“Yes—right—exactly! I can’t stay another year or two. I’m not sure I can stay another day.”

“So you leave. What then? You come live with me in the slums? Learn how to win at cards, or maybe how to steal a man’s wallet when he’s not looking? Sell illegal medicines to rich folks from the city? Sell
yourself
? Plenty of people, men
and
women, would love to buy time with a good-looking kid like yourself.”

Steff looked first irritated, then disgusted. They’d had variations of this conversation before, except never so explicit. “No—of course not—I could get a real job, couldn’t I?”

“Sure, if you had any particular skills. Or any idea what kind of career might appeal to you and applied yourself to learning it.”

“So then—you’re saying—”

“I’m saying plan to stay here another year, but think about what you want to do next. Don’t waste the time being mad and frustrated. And try not to drive Bors crazy while you’re here.”

Steff threw his hands in the air and slouched against the toolshed with a
thump
. “I didn’t expect a lecture from
you
.”

“That’s the end of the lecture, such as it is. Tell me what else is going on with you.”

Teenagers could always be counted on to talk about themselves, so Steff launched into a long and animated description of the indignities he’d suffered as an unpaid farm worker, as well as some of his more enjoyable activities with friends. Rafe listened, laughed, and commented appropriately, but the entire time half of his mind was running on another track.

How can I create a safe home for Steff in the city?

He had been on his own for so long it hadn’t occurred to him that he might have to tailor his life to meet anybody else’s needs or expectations. He’d had no incentive to better himself or his situation. Even now, he felt a tiny bit resentful at what he might have to sacrifice, what he might have to change wholesale. At the same time, he felt himself standing a little straighter, bracing his shoulders to accept a new weight.

He felt a touch of excitement as well. They were all part of a pattern, perhaps—Josetta, Kayle Dochenza, Steff. They were showing him the shapes and colors of a new life, if only he could figure out how to put the disparate puzzle pieces together. If only he could figure out exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

 • • • 

B
y the time Steff and Rafe made it back to the house, most everyone else had gone to their rooms. Rafe remembered that, too, from his years at the farm: Sunset meant bedtime, no matter how early it came; and dawn meant it was time to rise and get to work. He was certain it was largely a rebellion against this implacable diurnal clock that had turned him into a man who pursued most of his activities at night.

Bors was the only one still awake, and he was standing in the kitchen, yawning mightily. “Best get to bed, son. Early day tomorrow,” he said to Steff and the boy stomped off, his expression mutinous but his mouth shut.

The minute he was out the door, Bors waved at the table where he’d set out some homemade wine and a couple of squat glass tumblers. It was clear he’d been waiting for Rafe to return; otherwise, he’d probably already be asleep. “Pretty good vintage from two years ago,” he said. “Would you like to try a glass?”

“Be glad to,” Rafe said, and they took their places across the table from each other. The wine was sweeter than Rafe liked, and full of sediment, but it was better than no wine at all, so he praised it highly and received a second glass for his pains. Bors, who rarely drank, took a second glass himself.

“Nerri says she talked to you,” Bors said abruptly.

Rafe nodded. “That’s right.”

Bors shot him a heavy look from under those heavy brows and spoke in a heavy voice. “He doesn’t want to stay. Don’t want you to think we’d push him out, but I don’t think we can hold him back.”

“I never thought you would push him out.” Rafe managed a grin. “You didn’t push
me
out, though I have to think you were glad when I left. But I always knew you’d have let me stay as long as I wanted. As long as I did my share, of course.”

Bors nodded. “There’d be a place for you here anytime you wanted—and work for you to do, too. But you weren’t meant to be a farmer, and neither is Steff. I worry about him. He’s not like me. He wants things I never wanted.” He leveled a longer stare at Rafe. “Maybe you’ll understand him better if he comes to you. But it’s not so easy to try to raise a boy. You have to give him some direction or he’ll end up—” Charitably, he didn’t finish the sentence.

“Nerri said much the same thing. I’m taking it all to heart, I assure you. I know I’m not the best role model.”

Bors took a sip of his wine and changed the subject. “So how are things with you? Still getting along all right?”

Rafe meant to say
Yes
and leave it at that. Bors always asked a variant of the same question and Rafe always replied with polite generalities; but tonight, unexpectedly, the truth crossed his lips. “Getting a little restless,” he admitted. “Asking myself questions. Maybe I’m older than Steff, but I don’t seem to have a much better sense of direction.”

Bors’s brown eyes were alight with comprehension. “Met a girl, I take it.”

Rafe laughed. “Is that such an obvious corollary?”

Bors smiled slightly. “Women are about the only thing I ever knew could make a man stop and think, even if he wasn’t keen on thinking before.”

“Somehow I find it hard to picture you as young and rash and thoughtless,” Rafe retorted.

Bors’s smile widened. “I had my days.”

“So were you in your wild phase when you met my mother?”

Bors thought that over, taking Rafe’s question seriously. “Looking for reasons to settle down, I expect,” he said at last. “I’d been living in the city because I thought every man should get some experiences his father had never had, and my father had never set foot in Chialto. But I missed the land more than I thought I would. I just hadn’t been able to convince myself that it wasn’t a defeat to go back home. Then I met your mother, and you. I never saw any two people who needed a home more than you did. So it all came together for me. Provide for her, provide for you, and get what I wanted for myself, even though I hadn’t been able to put it into words.”