A guard stood to one side of the council room door. He was burly, Meinish, wrapped in bands of stained leather, with a battle-ax propped on the floor, his hands atop the curved blades of it. His gaze was set on a point directly in front of him, but he let his eyes slip over to Corinn long enough to express his disdain. She should not be here, he was indicating, although he did not have the power to say as much. Corinn ignored him.
She did not walk through the doorway, but she stood where she could see Hanish. She was not sure what she wanted, but if she caught his eye she would motion to him in the hopes that he would smile at her or blush or look away to hide his memories of their recent passion from the roomful of officers. As she watched him, she began to make out what he was saying.
“…he should get no farther than that. If we face him, it must be far from here.” He leaned over the chart spread on the table and pinned a spot with his finger. “We must keep this contained within Talay. Your generals can handle the repositioning of the troops. Have them see to it until Maeander returns. When he does I’ll-” He broke off for a moment. As he raised his head, his eyes touched on Corinn’s. He chewed a thought a moment and then began to round the table toward the door. He moved slowly and resumed speaking. “When Maeander returns he’ll oversee the entire operation. You and your officers can all report to him directly.”
“Will you eventually join us?” one of the men asked.
Hanish had cleared the table now and moved away from it. Several of the generals’ heads turned to follow him. He said, “I don’t foresee doing so. Maeander can handle it. I have the Tunishnevre to resettle.”
He reached the door. As he set his fingers on the handle, Corinn took a step into the corridor. She smiled, head to the side in a gesture meant as a playful apology for disturbing him. He stared right into her eyes and, without a word, swung the door shut in her face.
Corinn, standing there in shock, heard his voice on the other side. She could not make out his words anymore, but he carried on with his sonorous discourse. It took considerable effort for her to turn beneath the guard’s nose and move away with dignity.
An hour later she intercepted Rhrenna as she walked across one of the upper courtyards. The Meinish woman came on toward her without seeing her, her view obstructed by the wide, hanging rim of a hat meant to shade her from the sun. She did her best to maintain a winter pallor. Corinn did not think it particularly suited her. Her imperfect features and streaked blond hair would likely have been more attractive if her skin had some color to it, but such was not the Meinish ideal. Corinn had come to suspect that few Meins sincerely preferred their own ideal above the beauty of other races, but that was hardly what she had searched out Rhrenna to discuss.
The young woman resisted stopping for a chat, but Corinn convinced her to sit on a nearby bench. They were in the open air and plainly visible if anyone should take an interest in them, but they were out of earshot as well. The bench stood next to a stone balustrade that overhung a drop of a hundred feet down to the next terraced level. Rhrenna sat with her back to the view, preferring instead to flit her eyes around the courtyard. She was clearly anxious about being seen with the princess.
Corinn came straight to the point. “What is going on?” she asked. “There is something strange in the air. Something is happening. Do you know what it is?”
Rhrenna’s blue eyes looked everywhere but at Corinn. “You don’t know?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Hanish didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
Rhrenna considered this for a moment. Her voice did not soften. “Why should I tell you, then?”
“Because I’ve asked you.” When this got no response, Corinn said, “Hanish doesn’t tell me everything. He keeps a great many secrets from me.” She did not like having to say this. She was not even sure if it was true, but she imagined hearing it might soften Rhrenna. It was what they all wished for, wasn’t it? To be reassured that Corinn had not truly won their beloved chieftain’s confidence. She was but a plaything for him, nothing more. Part of her wanted to slap Rhrenna across the face that very moment, to spit at her and declare at the top of her lungs that Hanish loved her above all else, more than he had ever love a weak-skinned, goat-faced Meinish girl. But that would get her nowhere.
“I know what the court thinks of me,” she said, her voice weighted with apparent umbrage. “I know you all hate me because you think Hanish favors me too much. You don’t really know, though, what it’s like between us. He doesn’t feel for me the way you think he does. Please, Rhrenna, tell me what you know. We were friends once, weren’t we?”
Something in Rhrenna gave. It happened on the inside and spread up through her features. “But if Hanish doesn’t want you to know…”
“Rhrenna, you know something that I do not. Perhaps everybody knows. I could find the answer a thousand different ways, but I am asking you. Whatever you tell me, nobody will know that I learned it from you.” Then she added, “I will be in your debt.”
Rhrenna lifted her blue eyes a moment, questioning what power Corinn had left with which to repay a debt. “It is not true that you could find the answer a thousand different ways. What is happening isn’t public knowledge yet. It will be soon, I suppose, but I only know because my father-who is on Hanish’s council-told my brother. And he never keeps secrets from me.” She looked around. Annoyance flashed across her face, although whether this was directed at Corinn or at herself was not clear. “It’s your brother.”
“What?”
“Your brother Aliver. They say he’s been living in Talay. He’s just come out of hiding and he’s gathering an army to attack us. He has no chance of winning, but-” Rhrenna paused, alarmed at the expression on Corinn’s face “-he is going to start a war.”
Corinn, who had stood throughout their conversation, now sat down. She touched her knee against Rhrenna’s and let the woman clasp her hands. Of all the things that Rhrenna might have said, she would never have imagined news of her brother to be a possibility. It hit her like a blow to the abdomen that thrust up toward her heart. She felt the oncoming rush of a great weight of thoughts, but she knew that she was not ready to confront them yet.
Throughout the hours leading up to the evening meal, through the meal, and on into the early evening, the weight of the news perched on the crown of her head like an inverted pyramid, the point touching her, the vastness of it stretching up from there. Her brother was alive! That much echoed in her ears. He was trying to start another war. That part of it was spelled out as well. But she did not take her thoughts the further step toward formulating what her response to this news was. She actually moved through the evening with the erect posture and slow bearing of a person balancing an object on her head. Hanish acted normal all evening, not discussing the earlier incident or even mentioning that he’d had a council meeting.
Later, she prepared to spend the evening with Hanish in the private baths. Steam baths had never been an Acacian custom, but the Meins had managed to channel heat from the subterranean ovens for the purpose. Corinn had been slow to enjoy lounging around naked, sweating and breathless in the heat, but she had come to accept it as part of the day, a time spent with Hanish in a manner no other woman did.
Alone in Hanish’s bedroom, they had both taken off their clothes and slipped on their robes before Corinn asked, “Why did you treat me so rudely?” She had not planned to call him on this. It just came out, perhaps because she had a whole host of other things to keep from him now. This thing seemed small by comparison.
Hanish spun to face her, incredulous. “What do you mean? When was I rude?”
“Today, when you slammed a door in my face. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
“Oh,” the chieftain said, nodding in a way that indicated he recalled the incident but somehow also conveyed that Corinn had misunderstood it. He came back to her and took her hands in his. “I meant no insult by that. None at all. You must understand, though, that what passes between my generals and me is for our ears only. I share everything with you, but that does not mean my officers should have to as well. They must hear me without distraction, and they must speak without censoring themselves. They would do that in front of you. Men of the Mein-”