'No, Mistress, he went to bed several hours ago. There's only myself and the night-guards awake now.
'I see. Well, good night, Waterwalker.
'Goodnight, Mistress.
Homelt gave them a surprised look, then escorted Kristabel up the wooden stairs into the mansion.
'Can you be ready for next Tuesday? Kristabel's longtalk asked.
Edeard didn't even think of the mountain of work and schedules he'd have to reorganize. And a week from Tuesday was the graduation ceremony, which he could not miss. It would be tight. 'I will be. Whatever it takes.
'I'll hold you to that.
He caught one last glimpse of her atop the stairs. Smiling in expectation. It was, he reflected, an enchanting smile. Macsen had been right about her beauty after all.
The gondolier simply took him over to the other side of Flight Canal where he could walk home through Silvarum into Jeavons. There were two exceptionally bored and sleepy constables standing guard on the bridge over Arrival Canal. Both were startled to see Edeard at that time in the morning, but he stopped for a moment to speak with them. The correct thing to do politically, as Finitan had drilled him, create goodwill and support at every opportunity for you never know when you might need it.
Politics, as he had learned, could never be ignored in Makkathran, not at any level. It was Finitan's clever play which had exploited the kidnapping to get the result they needed in the Grand Council following the Festival of Guidance. It was also politics which had prevented the Gondoliers from going on strike as they'd threatened, for that would have made it look as if they were siding with the kidnappers. For now, the city remained on his side. He knew it wouldn't last, that there would be other attempts to subvert the Council, to turn his supporters away from the exclusion warrants. In all probability, those efforts would never end. He had to remain vigilant, which he was trying his hardest to do.
Kristabel, though, seemed to be filling his mind these days. He thought of her when he should be concentrating on duty rotas or meetings with District Masters or sniffing out the gang masters. He thought of her when he got up. He thought of her when he was out on patrol, remembering her laugh, the way she-looked, her scent, the trivial things of which they spoke. And when he finally did get a few free hours at the end of each day and could be with her, she simply filled his whole world.
Now this. They were finally to become lovers in the truest sense.
When he eventually got back to his maisonette and lay on the bed there were only a few hours until dawn when he was supposed to lead a patrol through Jeavons and round Tycho.
Rather than sleeping as he should, his mind was a whirl with how to rearrange duty periods so he could spend next week away. That and how she'd felt pressed against him in the gondola. Her smile. The promise. It would be difficult for the squad to cover for him; though he no longer cared. Makkathran could fall into oblivion now. He and Kristabel were to be lovers. It was hard to believe; he'd never been so happy before.
In one respect, Kristabel and Ranalee were very similar; their notion of 'just us' was one which could only ever apply to a daughter from a Grand Family. Admittedly, Kristabel only brought three of her personal staff, not five, but the wagon which accompanied their carriage was heavily laden with luggage cases and hampers of food. And of course there was the team of coachmen, and the wagon drivers, each with their own apprentices. In addition there were the ge-wolf handlers which Homelt had assigned to them for the road.
He wouldn't have minded that so much if they'd simply been able to go. But first there were all her (rather too giggly, he felt) girl friends they simply had to say goodbye to as they left the Culverit mansion. Poor Mirnatha was distraught that her sister and the Waterwalker were leaving her behind, acting as if the separation was for ever — so she had to be promised presents and treats on their return. He also had to shake hands with her father and swear no harm would befall his precious daughter; and that was while Lorin was watching impassively from a balcony above.
Edeard had arrived at the mansion with his one bag shortly after breakfast. The coach didn't pull out of the family stables in Tycho until just before midday. Kristabel sat straight-backed on the cushioned bench opposite him, her hair woven into a broad beret with little corkscrew curls dangling down. Simply sitting quietly she carried herself with the kind of imperious nature that Ranalee forever sought yet would never be able to achieve.
'You were impatient, she said loftily. 'I had to rush my leave-taking, it was almost rude. Was there some reason you wished to hurry?
He just managed to maintain his composure. 'No, Mistress.
'Really? I will enjoy testing the limit of your anticipation this evening.
'Even your cruelty is a joy, Mistress.
Kristabel managed to keep a straight face for another few seconds, then she was laughing wildly. 'Oh Lady, I thought they were never going to let us get away! She launched herself at him, and they spent the rest of the journey cuddled together.
The south road out of the city was as well maintained as all the roads across the Iguru. Twice they passed militia patrols, which had recently been increased to compensate for the growing numbers of highwaymen waylaying travellers. Edeard suspected such incidents were due to the way his own exclusion campaign was squeezing the gangs out of city districts. A number of those named in the warrants had simply left. Apart from that, their trip along the coastal route was without incident. The tall palms lining the road had survived the winter, and were now shedding their scarlet fronds to make way for the new season's emerald growth. Fields on either side were being readied for the summer crops, with large teams of ge-monkeys preparing the vines and citrus groves and fruit gardens, while ge-horses pulled heavy ploughs. This time of year always cheered Edeard up, reminding him of more carefree times during his childhood. Everyone's mood improved with the onset of spring.
He hadn't known what to expect when they reached the beach lodge. Best guess was a pavilion like the one Ranalee's family owned. He only started to suspect something different when Kristabel opened the carriage windows, and watched him with mischievous intent. They were no longer riding through fields. The land outside had transformed to gritty hummocks smothered by long reedy grass with shrivelled wind-bowed trees huddled in the lees. Ahead of them the track wound down into a modest cove, with promontories of dark rock. A small stream gurgled alongside. Then he saw it, standing back from the white beach, just behind the crumbling sandy bluff.
'Oh my Lady, he gasped in delight. Kristabel squeezed his hand in shared glee. 'I always loved this place, she sighed wistfully.
The lodge was a half-living sculpture. Five ancient muroaks had been planted in a circle, then pruned and guided for decades. Their first boughs were three yards above the ground, woven into a platform and reinforced with sturdy planks to form a level floor. But it was the wall which fascinated Edeard. Above the floor, the trunks had been allowed to fork, then fork again. As they'd done so, master gardeners had trained them into tall arches, before bending them back towards the apex when they'd all been twisted together into a final whorl of bark and branches that opened out to shade the lodge from the summer sun. It would need that shade, he realized, for the wall arches were filled with glass. A slender open deck encircled the entire lodge.
The coach stopped outside, and Kristabel led Edeard up the curving wooden stairs to the door where the lodge keeper was waiting for them. The old man bowed deeply, welcoming Kristabel as if she were his own family.
Edeard examined the wall's thick archway pillars, marvelling at the buds of green leaves that were starting to open amid the wrinkles of grey bark, seeing how the stubby twigs were meticulously pruned every autumn. In another month, the entire lodge would appear to be lead-framed panes of glass supported by lines of verdant leaves.