"My hair?"
"Tied in two bunches, with yellow ribbons. Like ponies' tails out to the sides."
She laughed. "At the Cloister we wore them like that a lot. It was simple and quick. So when I went over to Farside…" She looked at Macurdy fondly, and felt the old attraction-sexual and spiritual-tugging at her. "How did Melody wear hers?" she asked, "when she wasn't at war?"
"Bobbed off," he said, "the same as when you met her at Ternass. Only not quite so short."
Then she guided him to the subject of Melody's death, on his estate in Tekalos. He told her how it happened, and how he'd tried to revive her. They'd both been soaked with icy water, and the day had been freezing and windy. "I cried like a baby," he said, and to his dismay, choked up in the telling. After recovering himself, he looked at Varia thoughtfully. "When you were stolen from the farm, I never cried at all. Cursed and swore, but didn't cry, because I was sure I'd get you back. And when I found you married, and you told me you were going to stick with Cyncaidh-well, I cried some that night, but I could see you'd outgrown me." He paused. "You know, I never actually said that to myself, but inside I knew it. You outgrew me. I wasn't in the same class with Cyncaidh. If you'd have come with me, I'd have done it in a minute, even though I was in love with Melody. I hadn't been at first, but she was in love with me from the get-go, and finally I found myself in love with her."
Then he told her about Mary, and how she'd died. "I went crazy after that," he said, "didn't know what I was doing. Some guys came along-loggers I worked with-and they dragged me dripping out of the creek and hauled me to town. But I couldn't stay there any longer. My dreams were dead." He almost added, "for the third time," but stopped himself. "After the funeral," he went on, "I sold everything and went back to Indiana."
Then he told her about Charley and Edna and Frank and Edith… people she'd known as family for twenty years.
"And now I'm here again, and can't imagine going back."
"What will you do next?" Varia asked quietly.
Unexpectedly he grinned at her. It wasn't quite the boyish grin she'd known back in Washington County; it held a touch of ruefulness. But it made him very attractive. "I'm going to sit here," he said, "and listen to you tell me about your life since I saw you eighteen years ago."
She laughed. "It will have to be after dinner. I've a few things to do before then."
As always, Cyncaidh was considerate. After supper he left them to themselves, and they talked in the garden for more than an hour. When they said good night, Macurdy felt a powerful urge to take Varia in his arms. Not to kiss her, he told himself, only to… what? It couldn't work. They'd both regret it, lightly if nothing happened, and heavily if they ended up in bed. In this universe she was Cyncaidh's wife, not his.
When the twins returned to their room after supper, sunlight still angled through the windows. Jahns arrived with mugs of mulled cider, and the two of them sat sipping.
"You know," Ohns said thoughtfully, "I'm not sure I could get used to this Outland system of living with parents. But it might be pleasant to be near them-us in the barracks, Curtis and Varia in the palace."
Dohns looked at his brother. "But apparently the only real options we have are to return to the Cloister, and probably never see Varia again, or else stay here with her and Cyncaidh. It's tempting to stay, to see what it would be like, but I'm not likely to unless you do. It seems to me we're supposed to stick together, you and I."
Ohns nodded. They'd been born to be together. And being in the Guards, there was a good chance they'd continue to be. "What would you say," he asked, "if the Lion let us travel with him? We could ask to, you know. Volunteer."
Dohns frowned. "Do you think we should?"
"I'm… not sure. I'd like to apprentice under him, but… For one thing, there'd be no breeding assignments. Mainly, though, I don't think he'd go for it. And in the Guards, we're the top in our year. Given time, we're almost sure to be ranking officers."
Dohns nodded, though their career prospects meant less to him than to Ohns. Ordinarily he was more interested in new things than his brother was. Actually, the idea of staying with their mother and Cyncaidh on the Northern Sea was more attractive than following the Lion around the Rude Lands. But if they chose that option, then didn't like it, the dynast would never accept them back, except as culls. And Ohns was right: He'd miss the girls.
"Anyway," Ohns said, "by Ten-Month, the Lion will visit us at the Cloister. We'll have time to ask him then, if we decide to."
Before he went to sleep that night, Macurdy examined something he'd said to Varia-that if she'd wanted to come back to him, that evening eighteen years past, he'd have done it in a minute. Would he, really? Just the evening before that, Melody had proposed-not for the first time-and he'd told her yes, sealing it with a kiss. Wondering at the time how he could possibly be saying it.
He looked at that. And it seemed to him now that he must have known, from some deeper wisdom, that he'd never have Varia back. That it wasn't to be. That if it had been, he wouldn't have said yes to Melody.
The next morning after breakfast, Macurdy and Vulkan set off for the Rude Lands again, this time with a small pouch of gold imperials, from the emperor via Cyncaidh. To cover expenses, because they would, after all, be acting in the interests of the empire, preparing the rulers and people of the Rude Lands for a possible voitik invasion. The twins went to the embassy, and a few days later, headed back to the Cloister, as guards for a courier.
Witbin a week, Cyncaidh and Varia were on a packet rowed by a dozen brawny oarsmen, traveling up the Imperial River to the Middle Sea. There they'd embark on the Sea Eagle, a graceful forty-four-foot schooner built for speed. Within three weeks, perhaps less than two, they'd be at Aaerodh Manor, on the Northern Sea. Cyncaidh would stay only briefly-a month-then return to the capital. Varia would stay on till Nine-Month, unless he sent for her. Stay with their sons. She'd look at them from a slightly different perspective since she'd met Ohns and Dohns, but she'd love them as much as ever. They were truly hers, unshared with the Sisterhood.
21 Tussle in the Grass
Macurdy didn't linger in the Marches. He wasn't widely familiar with them, and they lay in Gavriel's and Cyncaidh's realm of influence. His responsibility was the Rude Lands, and he and Vulkan would spend much of the summer traveling them.
There, for the most part, Vulkan didn't use his concealment spell. Though the Rude Lands lacked a formal postal system, word traveled far and reasonably fast, if it was interesting enough. And an accepted legend riding a great boar remained interesting in spades, even after people got used to the idea.
Stories spread, interest heightened, and inevitably, rumors and exaggerations were accepted as reality. Macurdy ate regularly in inns now, and told of speaking with the Imperial Chief Counselor. There was, he said ominously, evidence of a possible invasion from across the Ocean Sea.
And what Macurdy said tended to be credited.
His first royal visit was in Indervars, the throne home of Indrossa. Next he paused to visit Jeremid again, before continuing on to Tekalos to see Wollerda and Liiset. Wollerda was by far his closest royal ally, and he greatly respected the old Kullvordi revolutionary. Who'd had weeks to get used to the idea of a possible voitik invasion.
Macurdy had hopes that Wollerda would have worthwhile thoughts to share. He didn't. But he was impressed by Cyncaid's story of the two strange ships, fifteen years earlier, and the letter the ylf lord had received from his healer and magician.