"We don't care what they think, do we, Bryntelle?" she said, blinking the tears from her eyes as she looked down at her child. "They can call me whatever they want, but we don't care, right?"
Bryntelle grinned at her and then laughed.
Cresenne smiled. "That's right."
She put Bryntelle to bed and then lay down herself. It took her a long time to fall asleep, though, and even after she did, she slept fitfully, troubled by strange, disturbing dreams that made no sense to her when she awoke in the morning. She sensed that she had slept too long and she dressed hurriedly, feeling disoriented.
Once more, as she made her way to the tanning circle, she felt that people were watching her, speaking of her behind her back. Even the younger girls who took Bryntelle for the day behaved strangely around her, some of them suppressing grins as if amused by some ill-mannered joke, others staring at her with open hostility. Despite having resolved the night before not to let all of this bother her, she had to grit her teeth to keep from screaming at all of them that she'd done nothing wrong. But it was only when she reached the tanning circle that she realized how serious matters had become. F'Solya was there, and her space beside the woman was open, but her friend said nothing to her as she sat. Worse, when Cresenne said "Good morning," F'Solya didn't reply.
Cresenne felt herself growing cold, though the sun was shining and the air was warmer than it had been in days.
For a long time neither of them spoke, until finally Cresenne couldn't endure the silence any longer.
"You have something you want to say to me?" she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the skin she was tanning.
At first F'Solya said nothing, though Cresenne could tell that she had stopped working and was staring at her. "Why would you do it?" she demanded at last. "After all we've done for you, why would you do such a thing?"
Cresenne turned to face her. "What is it you think I've done?"
"T'Lisha said that she found you in L'Norr's z'kal last night."
"And did she tell you why I was there?"
The question seem to catch her friend off guard; the reason would have seemed so obvious that probably none of the people T'Lisha told-the entire sept by now, no doubt-even thought to ask.
"No," F'Solya said, her voice softening. "She just… she just said…"
"She told all of you I was there, and allowed your imaginations to do the rest." Cresenne shook her head. "I expect that from the rest of them, F'Solya. But I thought you and I were friends."
"We are," F'Solya said. She took a breath. "Tell me why you were there. Please."
"I was there for food."
The woman frowned. "Food?"
"Yes. That's all."
"But the a'laq-"
"The a'laq refused to sell me food," Cresenne said. "And he said he wouldn't give me any, either. But he said he'd arrange for L'Norr to share his meals with me. E'Menua said that since he didn't have a wife or children, he'd have plenty to spare."
F'Solya shook her head, looking utterly confused. "But that makes no sense."
"I know," Cresenne told her. "But it's the truth."
"Why would the a'laq make feeding you so complicated when it could have been so simple?"
"Because he's intent on destroying my marriage to Grinsa. He wants us to stay here, and he wants Grinsa to marry a Weaver, be it a woman from your sept or someone from a neighboring one. He doesn't care. Either way he gets what he wants: more Weavers. He knew how T'Lisha would respond to this; he might have thought that this would drive her away from L'Norr so that he would try to make a concubine of me. And E'Menua is probably hoping that Grinsa will react the same way T'Lisha did. Anything to drive us apart. He's like this old spider spinning webs all around him, trying to catch as many flies as he can before he dies."
"You're speaking of my a'laq," F'Solya said, an edge to her voice.
Cresenne winced, realizing that she had gone too far on the one day when she could least afford to do so. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just… he doesn't like me very much, and he seems intent on forcing Grinsa to marry a Weaver."
They lapsed into another lengthy silence. Cresenne tried to keep her mind on her work, but her hands were trembling again. She wasn't certain what she would do without F'Solya's friendship. It was bad enough longing for Grinsa day and night, but to be friendless as well would drive her mad.
"T'Lisha is telling anyone who'll listen to her that you're trying to steal her man," F'Solya finally said.
Cresenne wanted to ask if F'Solya believed the girl, but she was afraid of her friend's answer. So she simply said "I'm not."
"I believe you," F'Solya said.
Cresenne lowered the skin she was working on and looked at the woman. "Do you really? It didn't seem that way before."
F'Solya met her gaze. "I was wrong to speak to you the way I did. I'm sorry."
She smiled, feeling so relieved that tears came to her eyes. "Thank you."
"The others…" F'Solya trailed off, her brow furrowing.
"I know. The others believe T'Lisha. Why shouldn't they? They know nothing about me, and I was in L'Norr's shelter last night. I will be again tonight and tomorrow, and every day until Grinsa returns."
The woman frowned again. "It does seem an odd way to get you food," she said. "Do you really believe that E'Menua wishes you ill?"
Cresenne looked away. "I suppose there might be another explanation."
"Look at me," F'Solya said, as if Cresenne were but a child.
She faced her friend once more.
"Do you really believe all those things you said before about the a'laq?"
Cresenne nodded. "I do. I'm sorry."
F'Solya shook her head, looking troubled. "It's all right. I was… troubled by the way D'Pera spoke to you the day we went to see her. She as much as accused you of trying to.." Her face colored. "Well, anyway, she shouldn't have spoken to you the way she did."
"They need Grinsa," Cresenne said. "At least they think they do. And because of who I am, they feel that the only way to get him, to convince him to stay, is to drive me away." She shrugged, not quite certain why she was justifying the way they had treated her. "I'm sure it makes a great deal of sense to them."
F'Solya seemed to consider this for several moments. Cresenne went back to working on the rilda hide she was holding, feeling a bit better. Let T'Lisha spread rumors about her. As long as F'Solya didn't believe them, Cresenne didn't care, at least not much.
"What will you do?" the woman asked her eventually.
"About T'Lisha, you mean?"
Her friend nodded.
"I've told L'Norr to have her join us for the evening meal each night, so that she can see for herself that she has no reason to be jealous."
F'Solya's expression brightened. "That seems like a fine idea."
"L'Norr didn't think so. He wasn't certain that T'Lisha would agree, and even if she did, he didn't think it would satisfy her."
"Then she's a fool."
Cresenne smiled. "That thought had crossed my mind."
"I can try speaking to her for you. I've known her for a long time. She's headstrong-girls her age often are-but she's a good child at heart. She might listen to me."
"I don't know, F'Solya," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Don't get me wrong: I'm grateful for the offer. But you've done a good deal for me already. At this point you might not want to make it so clear to everyone that we're friends."
"Nonsense," F'Solya said.
Again, Cresenne smiled.
"But you may be right about talking to T'Lisha. I'd be better off speaking with T'Resse, her mother."
"Her mother?" Cresenne repeated. "That sounds like a very bad idea."
"Not at all," F'Solya said, sounding quite sure of herself. "T'Resse and I have known each other for years." She nodded, clearly convinced by the soundness of her choice. "She'll be able to help."
She stood.