Ilya stared away, out to where the wind drew ripples in the dark, coursing waters of the river. The sun breached the eastern horizon. "She is going back to Jeds. I will get my horses and then-you know what I mean to do."
"And what about Tess?"
"What about her?"
"Are you going to just let her leave?"
Ilya's gaze fixed abruptly on the older man. "I want her, Niko. I thought I would go to any length to get her, but now-now I see that if she does not want me, I must let her go"
Niko smiled, but gently, to take the sting out of the expression. "You are learning humility, Ilyakoria."
"Yes," he said fiercely. "And I hate it."
Light spilled out, dusting with brightness the brilliant patterns woven into the walls of the gathered tents. "My dear boy," said Niko slowly, "do you love her?"
"I married her!"
"Loving a woman and wanting a woman are not the same thing."
Ilya simply stared at him, perplexed. "Of course, to desire a woman only because she is pretty-"
"I am not speaking of anything so simple. Listen to me, my boy. When you came back from Jeds, you had found the path you were destined to ride, knowing that it would bring you fame that no other jaran had found before you. But the gods play this game with us, challenging us to strive for fame, and yet how many of us can ever hope to beat their players: the wind that never ceases, the deep earth, the rain that dissolves the ashes of the dead, the unbounded sky, and the silent stars. They play their game well. They have only to wait us out to win."
The rising sun laced his pale hair with silver. "Yet now and again, a man or a woman is born who has weapons against these opponents, one who can command quiet, who can see beyond death, one who can hold fire to the old ways and let them burn. You are such a man. You can change the jaran. You are changing them. You can leave this world with a name that will live forever. You can win that game." He fell silent. Two women spoke in low voices from the etsana's tent, too far away for words to be distinguishable. From the farther edge of camp, a man hallooed, and a child yelped and laughed.
"But you will die in any case, Ilyakoria. What good is everlasting fame to a man if he dies unloved?"
A wind had come up. It touched Ilya's hair, stirring it like a whisper.
"Love, Ilya. That is what we who are mortal have been gifted, a gift never given and never known by the undying. The wind cannot love the plain, but I can love the plain, and I can love much more than that and be loved in return. Fame is something you want. A woman is someone you love."
"I don't know," said Ilya in a low voice, averting his gaze from Niko's keen one. "I don't know what the difference is."
Niko sighed and rested a hand on Ilya's shoulder. "I don't envy you."
Ilya laughed a little unsteadily, and then grinned at the older man. "Was that meant to comfort me?"
"No, it was meant to keep you honest."
"Then I will tell you this much." His voice shook as he went on. "I don't want her to leave." He shut his eyes, struggling to keep his expression controlled. "I don't want her to leave," he repeated in a whisper, and then, as if the only way to keep his control was to keep talking, he went on. "I remember the first time I saw her, and she told me in that elegant Rhuian she speaks that she wasn't going to harm me. Harm me! She could barely stand. Gods, how I wanted to laugh. But when the gods exacted that life, when it was done, I went after her. I don't know-I was afraid that she would think I was a barbarian, and then I was offended that she did. It was months before I began to wonder why I cared what she thought. And Sonia and my aunt! She walked into camp, alone, starving, with nothing but the clothes on her back, and they took her into the family. Do you know how long Vladi has been riding with the jahar, and still not accepted?"
"Vladi," said Niko kindly, "does not have Tess's ability to make friends."
"Then my aunt gifted her with her own daughter's tent! And she rode out with us, and I knew it would be a day, two days, three days at most, before she gave up-and then those damned-they knew I wanted her gone and still Yuri and Mikhal and Kirill and the others helped her."
"Until she could do it herself. She beat you fairly, Ilya." Niko chuckled, seeing Ilya's expression. "What, you aren't still mad about that, are you?"
"Damn her," said Ilya with heat. "I hate losing. Gods, though, I was impressed. She barely knew how to ride when we started. Do you suppose you know anyone as stubborn she is?"
"Yes," said Niko innocently. "I think I do."
For an instant, Bakhtiian looked offended, and then he called Niko a very unsavory name that had once started a feud between two tribes that lasted three generations.
Niko laughed heartily. "I like watching your face," he said. "But I'm curious. When did you decide that you had to marry her?"
'Do you know, I did something I had never done before-something I had never had to do before. I put myself in her way one evening, thinking-hoping-that she would ask me to lie with her. I thought she needed comfort. It was after we found those three butchered riders of Doroskayev's.
That was when I discovered that she and Fedya-" He shrugged.
"It took you that long?"
"Where a woman slept had never before concerned me. But I'm glad she chose Fedya. He began making songs again before he died. For her. And I didn't have time to learn them all." He shook his head. "When we were up in the hills on that damned ill-fated scouting expedition… I know the exact moment. We were down, the hunter stalking us, and my fingers touched her neck."
He raised one hand to touch the single gold necklace at his throat. "I ran. I ran because it was so strong. But it wasn't until we reached Veselov's tribe, the night of the dance, that I could see it for what it really was. Tess came to talk to me because I couldn't dance. When I saw her, I finally understood that I loved her.''
A woman hurried up to the etsana's tent, spoke with someone inside, and hurried away again. Around them, the camp was waking up. Three children ran by, bound for the river.
Niko coughed. "Excuse me for saying so much, Ilya, but then why did you go off with that-" He glanced toward the other tent, still quiet. "That awful woman."
Bakhtiian flushed. "Because Tess left me to go dance, just jumped up and left me, went straight to-" He broke off.
"Ah," said Niko.
"And then in front of everyone she had the audacity to gift Petya with that necklace. And then, do you know what she said to me that day? She said, 'I wonder who got the beauty and who got the beast.' She said that. To me."
"And that," said Niko with awe, "is why you married her. By the gods."
"Yes," said Ilya sardonically, "how fortunate for me that the Avenue presented itself so conveniently. The gods have a strange humor, Niko. In trying to bind her, I bound only myself.''
"Oh, you bound her as well."
"Perhaps. But in Jeds, our laws mean nothing."
"Bitterness does not enhance you, Ilyakoria."
"Here are Anton and Vladi," said Ilya. At the same moment, Vera emerged from her tent, dressed in a bright blue tunic with a chain of silver bells around each ankle. She arrived beside Niko and Ilya a few steps before the two men, but her attention was all for Bakhtiian.
"You did not come to my tent last night," she said in an undertone but not quietly enough that Niko could not overhear. "Three nights you have refused me, Bakhtiian."
"I beg your pardon," he said politely, and turned to greet Anton Veselov.
"There's news," said Veselov.
"Your mother?"
"No, she is the same. Arina will stay with her. But ten riders just came in. Mikhailov's jahar slipped away last night, and it looks as if they've ridden hard south. Sergei sent word that you may have the ten riders for your journey to the coast. That way," he added, looking thoughtful, "you can leave today, since you ought to gain enough of a head start that Mikhailov cannot catch you now. With the ten riders, you'll have double his men, counting the pilgrims, that is."