Aspundh nodded, understanding, and rose slowly, stiffly to his feet.
BZ rose with him. “I’ll show KR to his rooms, Dhara—”
She let go of him, remaining where she was; used to this arcane ritual of her husband and his guest, accepting his explanation that they had confidential policy matters to discuss. “Thank you for coming, KR.”
Aspundh nodded again. “I’m glad I could be here.” They both looked at Gundhalinu.
He hesitated. “Will thou wait here for me, Dhara? I … need to discuss something with thee.”
She nodded. Surprise drove the brooding sorrow out of her gaze for a moment as she watched them go out of the room.
“BZ…” Aspundh said, settling himself in a comfortable chair as Gundhalinu closed the door behind them.
Gundhalinu glanced back at him, unsure of what was in the older man’s voice, just as he was unsure of his own expression. He crossed the room, sat down in the chair’s mate. “Yes,” he said softly, “I’m ready.”
“To go into Transfer?” Aspundh asked. “Or to go back to Tiamat.”
“Both,” he said, looking down.
“Then let me tell you something that may help to ease the pain of this transition.”
Gundhalinu looked up again in silent curiosity.
“There is some evidence,” Aspundh murmured, holding his gaze, “that the situation you find yourself in now may have been set up intentionally, to fill you with exactly the kind of doubts you are feeling now.”
Gundhalinu stared at him. “What are you saying? Are you saying that Pandhara—”
“No… your wife is completely innocent in this matter. But it appears certain factions made sure that the two of you would meet in the first place, and that you would continue to encounter each other; that eventually you would find yourself in your present position—too comfortable, too happy … even falling in love,” Aspundh said gently. “Doubting yourself, doubting your choices. There are those people who would rather not see you return to Tiamat.”
“Do you mean the Brotherhood?” Gundhalinu asked, remembering his brothers’ death with sudden appalling vividness.
Aspundh nodded. “Yes. But not the Brotherhood alone… . You are at the center of too much power now for anything to be that simple. Your position may protect you from direct attack, but it also makes you a lodestone for subtler forms of betrayal.”
“ ‘Ask the right questions’…” Gundhalinu muttered, “ ‘and trust no one.’ ”
“Exactly.” Aspundh’s smile was full of sorrow. “Not even yourself.”
Pandhara was still sitting where he had left her when he returned to the meditation room… sitting perfectly still, with the lights dimmed and her eyes closed, meditating on an adhani, as he had shown her how to do. She had picked up the skill very quickly. He had been pleased when she had told him that it helped her focus while she worked.
She opened her eyes as she heard him come back into the room; looked up at him expectantly, folding her hands in her lap.
He dropped down to sit cross-legged facing her, exhausted by the unnatural stress of the Transfer. He looked away for a long moment, with no idea of how to begin. At last he made himself look at her again. “Dhara … you told me once that one of the reasons you wanted my family’s heritage was for your children. That you wanted to have children…?”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she bent her head. “Yes.”
“I … Gods—” he whispered, and his hands fisted. He looked up at the diamond-within-diamond pattern of the ceiling dome, an infinity of blue-on-blue. “I don’t know how to explain this so that it doesn’t … When I go, where I’m going, with what I’ll have to do when I get there … thou know I won’t be coming back. And … the gods know, if it goes far enough, there may be trouble … enough trouble, focused on me, that it might have repercussions even here, for thee and the estates. I don’t want what happened to thee ever to happen again.” She watched him, her eyes dark, saying nothing. “I’ve given it a lot of thought these past two days—” pushing on before he lost his nerve. “How to secure thy position, and protect the estates from any possible attempt at confiscation… . Dhara, would thou consider having a child by me?” The final words were barely audible.
“I—” Her hand rose to her breast.
He looked down, said hastily, “I would set up the necessary sperm account before I leave. I’ll see to everything. The procedure could be done at thy convenience, that way, quite easily… . With an heir, a child who belongs genetically to both of us, there can be no question to whom the Gundhalinu family holdings belong… . And I would know … would know that I have honored my ancestors in the only way that holds any real meaning in my heart, anymore.”
She was silent for a long moment. “Thou have thought this out very carefully, very considerately, as always, I see.” She waited for him to look up again, finally. “It would give me great joy to bear thy child, BZ … I could not imagine a more beautiful thing.”
He began to smile, with relief and release.
“On one condition. Will thou give me one thing, in return?”
Surprise stirred in him. “Whatever thou want, that I can give thee.”
She looked steadily, deeply, into his eyes. “Give me tonight, BZ. Give me a child with thy own body.”
He stared, feeling himself flush again, feeling his heartbeat quicken. “I … Are thou at the … I mean …”
“I will arrange it.” She whispered the same words he had spoken so many times to her. “I will not do it any other way. A child is a human being; to create one is not as simple as mixing sperm and egg in a bottle. Thou will give this child life—but thou may never see it again, for as long as either one of thee live. Thou can’t do that; it isn’t fair. Let our child’s life begin as an act of love … so that when I tell our son or daughter of it, I can tell the truth. Be a husband to me …” She leaned toward him, her taut body clearly outlined beneath the fluid cloth of her gown, and put her hand on him. He got an erection, so quickly that the pain was like a shock. “Just for tonight.”
He felt his sudden understanding of the truth she had spoken drown in a wave of need, as the rush of heat rose up through the aching emptiness inside him from his aching loins. “Yes—” he whispered. He found her waiting mouth, soft and wet and warm, drank her kisses like a man dying of thirst. His hands slid down her body, feeling her warmth, her womanliness, the pressure of her breasts against him as his arms circled her back and began to unseal her gown.
He slid her gown down her body, revealing her shoulders, the exquisite curve of her back, her breasts. Her deft fingers unfastened his jacket, opened his tunic, undid his pants—were down inside them, doing things to him that made novas of his nerve endings. He gasped in ecstasy and anguish as he felt himself slide over the edge of control. Unable to stop it, he pushed her back and down, found his way inside her, spent himself, in an act of desperation, hearing her feeble cry of protest drown inside his own cry of release.
He lay on top of her, his heart pounding, dazed and humiliated, until he could find the strength to push himself up off of her again, so that their bodies were no longer joined together, or even touching. “Gods …” he mumbled, “oh gods … I’m sorry. It’s been so long—”
She reached up, drawing him back down beside her. She stroked his hair, touched his lips like a kiss. “Hush, I know—I should have realized… .”
“Did I hurt thee?” he whispered, and remembered his brothers. He shut his eyes, sick. “Oh, Dhara, thou must think I—”
“It’s all right—It is…. Hush….” She drew him into her arms, rubbing his back, holding him close. “We have all night.”