That should sweeten the cranky old cow’s mood a bit.
The weaver pulled up a chair and placed it beside the bed, positioned so she sat facing both mother and child. She threw a glance over her shoulder at Sonoe, sharp as a dagger.
So much for flattery , Sonoe thought.
The servant girl Eikko now passed around the tea. As she handed Sonoe her cup, the mage performed a quick surface scan of the girl’s mind and mentally nodded in satisfaction. She could find no trace of last night’s occurrences in the hikui’s memories.
“I think Hatora’s had enough,” Jelena announced. She covered herself back up and handed off the infant to Sateyuka, who lifted the child to her shoulder and began patting the tiny back. Jelena unsuccessfully tried to stifle a huge yawn. “I’m still so tired,” she mumbled. “I think I’ll rest my eyes for awhile. Wake me when breakfast comes.” Almost before the last word had passed her lips, she had fallen asleep.
The weaver rose from her chair to replace the baby in her cradle, then sat back down, ramrod straight, face impassive, all but openly daring Sonoe to try to make her leave Jelena’s side.
Sonoe sighed. “So, Sateyuka. Do you have a family?” she asked, attempting to make conversation.
“Yes,” the weaver replied, and snapped her mouth shut as if to prevent the escape of any more words than were strictly necessary. Her eyes refused to move from Jelena’s slumbering form.
“I’m not your enemy, weaver,” Sonoe said.
“Perhaps not,” Sateyuka replied. Her expression became thoughtful as she at last turned to look at Sonoe. “But if it weren’t for Jelena, you and I could never sit in the same room together. I stand against all that you believe in.”
“I believe okui must lead and hikui must follow,” Sonoe replied. “Our blood gives us that right.”
“And yet, you treat Jelena as okui.”
“That is different and you know it!”
“Oh, is it? Explain to me how this is so!” Sateyuka’s eyes flashed in challenge.
Sonoe shook her head. “This argument is pointless. Perhaps it would be wise for me to withdraw for a while. I’ll be in the sitting room if Jelena needs me.”
Outside the door, Sonoe came face to face with Amara. “I’ve left the weaver to watch Jelena,” Sonoe said. “She’s fed the baby already and is asleep again.”
Amara nodded, “Good.”
Sonoe glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedchamber door, then switched to mindspeech. I’m worried, Amara. Now that Jelena is a mother, I fear her concern for her child will interfere with our plans.
I, too, have considered this, but once Jelena knows the full truth, once she knows what’s at stake, I’m confident she’ll put aside all personal concerns and submit to her fate.
I wish I could be as sure as you are. The love she has for her daughter may be too strong. I fear she’ll be unable to willingly leave the baby behind.
We will assure my daughter-in-law that Hatora will be raised in the protective fold of strong families, both my own and the Onjaras… No. She will go bravely.
“I think I’ll return to the king’s quarters. Jelena won’t wake for awhile yet,” Sonoe said aloud. “The weaver watches over her like a she-wolf does her cub.” Sonoe’s expression made clear her distain.
“Something is happening,” Amara said softly. “Last night, I had a very disturbing dream.”
“Oh?” Sonoe responded carefully.
“I felt the presence of our enemy, as if he were very near. He is growing stronger each day, Sonoe. We must begin preparations for the Sundering. I had hoped to delay it a while longer, but circumstances are forcing our hand. War with the Soldarans will be upon us soon, and I think we must perform the Working before then.”
“I agree,” Sonoe answered. “Our entire attentions must remain focused on the defense of Alasiri once the Soldarans attack. But aren’t you forgetting one very important thing?”
“No, I’m well aware of our lack of a full complement. The only solution I can think of is to recruit practitioners from outside the Society to make up the difference.”
“Risky, but perhaps necessary,” Sonoe agreed. “I know of several who might serve.”
“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Amara said. She opened the bedroom door and disappeared inside, closing it softly behind her. Sonoe nodded in satisfaction.
Yes, leave everything to me, she thought.
Chapter 32
Ashinji!
Jelena?
Ashinji looked around in confusion. He felt certain he had just heard Jelena call out to him .
How is that possible?
“You all right?” Seijon poked him in the ribs with the blunt tip of his practice sword.
Ashinji shook his head and refocused on the boy. “Yes, I thought…well, never mind. The combination I just taught you, show it to me again.”
He spent another hour with the boy, putting him through several more drills before he called an end to the session.
“You’re improving by leaps and bounds, Seijon. I think you’ll be ready to move on to live steel before long.”
The hikui boy beamed. “I think I’m ready now!” he exclaimed.
Ashinji shook his head. “Not yet! Don’t be so eager; it’s a big step. Once you start with a real sword, you’re going to get cut. That’s guaranteed. Think you’re ready for real pain?”
Seijon snorted. “I was knife fighting in the street long before I ended up here. I know what it’s like to get cut.”
Ashinji regarded the boy thoughtfully, remembering what Gran had told him of the young hikui’s brutal childhood.
“Go and get cleaned up. It’s almost dinnertime,” he directed. “Give me your sword.” Seijon nodded and handed him the practice blade, then scampered off toward the bath house.
Ashinji lifted his arm, sniffed, and grimaced. He gathered up the pile of assorted practice weapons and went to stow them away before heading for the bath house.
The Soldarans did not share the elves’ reverence for cleanliness, but they did wash sometimes, usually after strenuous exercise. The slaves’ bath house, a fairly simple affair, consisted of two water pumps set up on concrete pads at either end of a walled-off area of the yard, just behind the barracks. Stone-lined drains carried waste water away, and a canvas awning provided shade during the summer and protection from rain during the rest of the year.
Seijon had already stripped and hung his clothes on a peg driven into the wall. Ashinji noted with mild surprise how well-muscled the boy had become over the past few months.
No wonder his blows are so hard! Perhaps Gran is right, and I won’t need to worry over his safety when the time comes for us to try our escape.
Ashinji had yet to tell Seijon of his and Gran’s decision to leave. He didn’t want to get the boy’s hopes up in case they couldn’t figure a way out, and the less he knew, the better. It reduced the risk to all of them.
Ashinji pulled off his tunic, breeches and sandals, and hung them next to Seijon’s. A chilly breeze skirled around the interior of the bath house, lifting the awning and setting it to thrumming against the ropes holding it in place.
“I think it’s going to start raining again,” Ashinji commented. He glanced upward at the flapping canvas.
“Yeah,” Seijon responded. Water gurgled and splashed from the wide mouth of the pump.