The scene in the front room stopped her as soon as she came through the doorway.
Quiss was stirring what looked like enough stew to feed half of Houseldon. Her cheeks were red from heat and exertion; sweat made her hair stick to the sides of her face in streaks. Behind her, servants clattered around the room, setting platters, utensils, and pitchers on the table, bringing pots and tureens and trays from a back kitchen Terisa hadn’t seen – and talking to each other loudly through the din. The Domne and Tholden sat together at the end of the table, discussing something intently, raising their voices to make themselves heard. In one corner of the room, a boy perhaps fifteen years old and a girl somewhat younger were arguing hotly; but the only part of their discussion Terisa could make out was the part that went: Did so. Did not. Did so! Did not! Another boy, this one no older than eight or nine, sat near Tholden trying to sharpen a wooden sword with a piece of tile for a whetstone. A third, still-younger boy used a stick the size of a club to experiment with the resonant qualities of a tin wash basin.
For a second, the clamor seemed so intimidating – so at odds with the peace inside her – that Terisa almost turned away. Nothing in her life with her parents, or in her life alone, had prepared her for a home where people acted like this.
But then Quiss raised her head, saw Terisa, and smiled.
Quiss’ pleasure changed the meaning of the din altogether. Or changed the way Terisa saw it. All this noise and activity wasn’t angry, distressed, or alarmed, didn’t represent pain: it was just loud. As soon as Quiss smiled, Terisa knew that Tholden’s wife was in her element, flourishing precisely because her family and her household were so busy, so noisy; so full of themselves and each other. And then Terisa understood that the tumult was just another form of peace – hot and hectic, of course; not particularly restful to a novice like herself; but completely without fear.
Smiling back at Quiss, she came forward to meet the noise.
“I understand you spent the afternoon with Minick.” Quiss was nearly shouting, but Terisa could hardly hear her. “The whole afternoon? Letting him show you around?”
Terisa nodded.
“Good for you. I knew I liked you as soon as I saw you. He’s your friend for life. Most people aren’t willing to listen to him that long.”
“They ought to give it a try.” Terisa tried to speak loudly enough to be audible. “He’s nice.”
It was Quiss’ turn to nod. “Fortunately, his nieces and nephews dote on him.” She indicated the children at the other end of the room. “I mean, fortunately for them.
“If his wife weren’t so shy, he’d be here tonight. I know it saddens him sometimes that he can’t spend more time with us. But I think the poor woman panics every time she sets foot outside her house.” Quiss started to laugh, but Terisa couldn’t hear what her laughter sounded like through the noise. “They must have had a rousing courtship.”
Terisa grinned again, then raised her hands to rub the muscles in her cheeks.
A serving woman appeared in front of her, carrying a foaming tankard on a tray. “Do you like ale? My husband brews for the Domne. You won’t find a better ale in the Care.”
“Thanks.” Terisa didn’t know anything about ale, but she knew she was thirsty; she accepted the tankard and sampled it. The serving woman watched her while she discovered that the ale had a bite which wasn’t quite sour, wasn’t quite bitter, but which seemed to be both. After a second taste, however, the flavor had improved dramatically. Soon it became wonderful. She beamed her approval, and the serving woman went away delighted.
“Terisa!” Tholden gestured to her. She went over to him, and he pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down. I want to tell you what we’re doing to get ready. Maybe you can think of something I’ve forgotten.”
The Domne looked a little skeptical; he may have been sensitive to her general bewilderment. Nevertheless he nodded as if he also wanted to hear what she might say. At once, Tholden began to describe his specific arrangements for the possibility of battle.
She couldn’t absorb them. In fact, she only heard every third word; the rest of his explanation was lost in a chorus directed at the Domne: Da, it’s her fault, No, it’s his fault, She did it first, He did it first! And she couldn’t help noticing that even the Domne appeared more interested in the bickering of the children than in Tholden’s preparations. Feeling vaguely irresponsible – but not enough to worry about it – she said once, “Maybe it’ll be quieter after supper,” then drank her ale and stopped trying to listen.
The chaos of getting supper ready seemed to approach a climax as an inner door burst open and a squall of children blew into the room. They were all about Ruesha’s size and age – too many of them too close together in age to belong to any one family. Or any three families. They were all buck naked, full of glee, and glistening with water. And they were followed by Geraden, dripping copiously. He had a couple of towels in his hands, but they were too wet to be much use.
“Come back here, you little monsters!” he roared. “I’m going to towel you until your heads fall off!”
Squealing with delight, small, naked bodies scattered in all directions.
Terisa hadn’t seen Geraden for most of the day. She looked at him eagerly, and saw at once that he was still clenched and dour, knotted inside himself. Perhaps for the sake of the children, however, he had pushed his hardness into the background. Or perhaps they elicited that response from him involuntarily: perhaps it was something they did for him, rather than he for them.
It was enough. She could wait for more until they had a better opportunity together. Giving him her best smile, whether he noticed it or not, she relaxed and let the clamor continue to grow on her, like a milling and vociferous form of contentment.
Quiss, Tholden, and the servants snatched up wet children indiscriminately; soon all of Geraden’s victims were caught in adult arms. Stifling a laugh, Quiss said to one of the serving women, “Your boys are responsible for this.”
“I beg your pardon,” the woman protested in tart amusement. “I’m sure Ruesha is the cause. She’s the most notorious truant in Houseldon. Ask anyone.”
“They’re all monsters!” growled Geraden. “They’re all going to suffer horribly when I get my hands on them!” Doing his best wild gorilla imitation, he began stalking children.
With the help of three or four servants, he succeeded in herding his fugitives from torture and cleanliness out of the room.
If he hadn’t been so busy – and if she hadn’t been so comfortably settled with her tankard of ale – Terisa would have gone after him. She felt an unaccountable desire to kiss him far more seriously than she had kissed Minick.
He came back after a while to join his family – and half a dozen men who arrived in the meantime – for supper. These men were the leaders of teams which had been organized to perform various functions during the defense of Houseldon. As soon as the meal was over, and the table had been cleared, the talk turned to the subject that seemed to be uppermost in everyone’s mind, except Terisa’s: what kind of attack was coming, and when, and how to meet it.
Geraden described a few of the uses of Imagery which Master Eremis had already made against Mordant; and the men quickly lost whatever self-confidence they had brought with them to the Domne’s house. Finally, one of them asked almost timidly, “Is there anything you can do?”
He shook his head. “Not until I get a chance to make a mirror.”
“But how can such things be fought?” another man inquired. “What can we do?”
“We’re already doing it,” the Domne said flatly, as if he were sure. “Everything that can be done. We’re doing it.”