There, on a bed of silk, was a necklace of delicate gold, at its centre a cluster of gemstones surrounding an emerald the size of a dog’s eye. Renna was still getting used to the idea of money — something they had little use for in Tibbet’s Brook — but she knew a fortune when she saw it.
She reached out, brushing the sharply cut stones with her fingertips. ‘It’s beautiful.’
Arther came smoothly forward once more, taking the box as Thamos lifted the necklace high for all to see. ‘It will look more beautiful still about your throat,’ he said loudly.
It was an incredible gift, worth more by far than all the others, but something about it rang false. The Hollowers were giving the most personal things they had. Thamos, his fingers bedecked with gem-studded rings, was just giving her money. Did he really care she was married, or was this just politics?
With the pad of her thumb, Renna rubbed at the woven band about her finger. The necklace was indeed beautiful, but she had all the jewellery she would ever need.
She smiled, raising her voice to match the count’s. ‘Thank you, Your Highness. I would be honoured to wear it tonight, but I cannot accept such a gift while folk still go hungry in Hollow County.’
Shamavah hissed, and there was a slight twitch at the corners of Thamos’ smile, but he recovered smoothly, bowing again as he fastened it about her throat. ‘It is yours to do with as you please, Mrs Bales. Sell it on the morrow, and you will fill many an empty belly.’
Renna smiled and nodded, and the crowd cheered again. Arlen took her hand, squeezing. She could feel his love in that simple gesture.
Leesha looked up as Wonda came to the door, knocking at the same time she opened it as was her habit. She and Rojer were back at the table, having spent the better part of an hour staring at their cups, lost in thought.
‘Sorry to disturb, Mistress Leesha,’ Wonda said, ‘but there’s a commotion down in town. Dunno what’s goin’ on, but you can hear it all the way out here, so I doubt it’s good.’
Leesha set down her cup and reached for the half-warded cloak she had been making to replace the one she had given Ahmann. The ever-present headache, faded for a moment, flared back to life. ‘Creator, is a quiet night too much to ask?’
Rojer was out of his chair in an instant, grabbing his cloak and fiddle case. ‘Amanvah and Sikvah are down there’ was all he said, going for the door.
‘Rojer, wait!’ Leesha cried, but he was already gone, running like all the Core was at his heels.
Wonda watched him go and sighed. ‘Hope those Krasian girls know what they’ve got. Give anything for a man to feel like that about me.’
Leesha put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Magic’s put you in body of a woman, Wonda, and I know you’ve been with boys in the … heat that follows a demon hunt, but you’re only sixteen. There’s time still to figure out men and try a few on for size. And you don’t need a man to run and save you like most girls.’
Wonda nodded. ‘Ay, think that’s the problem.’ She waved a hand over her scarred face. ‘That and this. I’m good for a sticking, ay, but no one’s looking to bring me to the solstice dance.’
‘If any man looks at you and only sees the scars, he doesn’t deserve you,’ Leesha said.
‘Might be better off stuffing a sock in my trousers and chasing girls than waiting for one who does,’ Wonda said as they started out along the path to town.
‘Nonsense,’ Leesha said. ‘You keep your head held high, and they’ll be fighting over you before long, Wonda Cutter. You mark me.’
They set a strong pace, but Leesha resisted the urge to break into a run. Years of keeping pace with Bruna’s slow shuffle had taught her patience. ‘If folk can’t live long enough for me to get to ’em, there isn’t much I could do anyway,’ her teacher used to say. ‘No good to anyone if I fall and break my hip.’
There was a large rock beside the path about halfway to town, and a silhouette stood atop it, barely visible in the wardlight. Wonda trained her bow on it as they approached, but as they drew nearer they saw it was only Rojer, listening intently.
‘Whatever it is, it ent trouble,’ Rojer said, hopping down beside them. ‘Sounds like a party.’ His relief was visible, but — never one to miss a party — he pressed for them to quicken the pace even more.
The music and cheers and laughter grew louder as they approached the Corelings’ Graveyard, creating an ever-present din. Leesha could see poles waving in the air as men hurriedly put up festival pavilions, and there were Jongleurs in the sound shell with women dancing on the stage.
‘What in the Core …?’ Rojer wondered.
Smitt’s young granddaughter Stela ran by, carrying a basket of freshly cut flowers. ‘Ay, Stela!’ Wonda called. ‘What’s goin’ on?’
Stela slowed and turned to look at them, but did not stop. ‘Ent you heard? Deliverer just got married!’ She turned back and took off, vanishing into the throng ahead.
Rojer and Wonda’s eyes snapped to Leesha. She could see them holding their breath, waiting to see her reaction.
‘Wonda,’ she said, ‘be a dear and run back to the cottage and fetch the festival flamework. Careful with it on your way back.’
Wonda looked at her a minute, then unstrung her bow, tucking it over her shoulder before setting off at a run.
‘You all right?’ Rojer asked.
Leesha shrugged. ‘He’s made his choice, Rojer. How I feel about it doesn’t really matter. Arlen Bales saved us, and this town, and if this is what he wants, what gives him peace …’
Rojer looked at her. ‘Then we shut up and dance.’
Leesha smiled. ‘Ay.’
Stela rushed by them again, and returned a few moments later with more flowers. This time Leesha stopped her, pressing a coin into her hand and taking a handful.
‘This way,’ Rojer said, moving towards a collection of Krasians, standing apart from the rest of the throng. At their forefront were Amanvah and Sikvah, a knot of dal’Sharum around them. Rojer quickened his pace, and Leesha had to lift her skirts to keep up.
Amanvah saw their approach and immediately went over to him, Sikvah a step behind. ‘Greetings, husband. It appears we have returned on an auspicious day for the Hollow tribe. It is said the Par’chin and his new Jiwah Ka gave no warning. Your tribesmen were not prepared, and were … chaotic in their joy. I sent Shamavah to facilitate for the bride before she was overwhelmed.’
‘That was very kind of you,’ Leesha said.
Amanvah bowed, but she did not take her eyes off Rojer. ‘It is an honour to observe your Northern wedding customs.’
Rojer shook his head. ‘Wedding celebrations aren’t meant to be observed, Amanvah. They’re meant to be enjoyed.’
Amanvah shook her head, and even Sikvah looked taken aback. ‘This is not our tribe …’
‘The Core it isn’t,’ Rojer said. ‘Are you my wives or not?’
Amanvah blinked. ‘Of course we are …’
‘Then …’ Rojer took her arms and drew in close to her, smiling as their noses touched through the thin white silk of her veil. ‘… please honour me by shutting up and dancing.’
With that, he took them both out into the wide space cleared in the Corelings’ Graveyard. People were reeling, spinning wildly into one another’s arms with practised efficiency. Amanvah and Sikvah watched the dance warily. No doubt there was nothing like it in Krasia. Any unmarried men and women so casually touching one another was against Evejan law, and no doubt touching a dama’ting who was not your wife would get a man’s hand cut off. Out of the corner of his eye, Rojer could see Enkido lurking nearby.
‘Look at me,’ Rojer commanded, and the women both turned to him. ‘I know this dance looks daunting, but it’s really quite simple. Watch my feet.’ He traced a quick series of steps, moving in a figure of eight. ‘You try,’ he said, continuing to move in the repeating pattern.
‘Good!’ Rojer cried as they did. ‘Now clap your hands and stomp your feet to the beat of the music.’ He began to clap as his feet beat a steady pattern on the cobblestones.