The Chronicles: Three Sisters 05

"Lanko deserved a beating, and he should have paid compensation. No one needed to die. I had nothing but respect for Dengel, and I never bore your family any ill-will - except for Lanko."

"We do have an enemy in common. Bacho stole your land - and he's at least partly responsible for the death of your sons."

"I suspect that my daughter already told you what he and his men - and Kestutis - did to my wife, and my son."

Guen Nadesti only nodded. Her expression hadn't changed, though.

- "There's a second reason you should let us stay." I continued. "You have only three fighters - four, if you count Seva. Weyl is untested, from what I can see - and so is his sister."

"You need all the help you can get." I said.

- "Inisian will be very useful." said Vingoldas. He had the same level stare, the same expressionless face as Mother Nadesti. "That is, if you don't talk him into leaving with you."

- "I wouldn't." I said. "They aren't bound to us, and Moruith has had a hard enough life, without tramping through the wilds in winter. Prospal Hill is the best place for the two of them. You did the right thing ... inviting them to stay with you."

Guen Nadesti raised an eyebrow.

- "You'd leave without them?" she said. "You'd let them stay here?'

I met her stare. "I just said so."

- "Then why do we need you, if we can have Inisian?"

- "Seriously? Because your most experienced fighters are babes in arms, compared to me. I mean no offence, Vingoldas - but both you and Hedyn still have a lot to learn. And even with one eye and half a hand, I don't think that either one of you would want to face me in a serious fight."

Vingoldas didn't reply - but I hadn't expected him to. Smart young man. Had he been hot-tempered, or overly proud, we could have had that fight right away.

"You would gain my girl Yevna, too." I said. "Seva may be older, but my daughter is a good archer, a better forester, and has more grit. Have you seen her teeth?"

- "Yes." said the old woman.

- "And you know how they got that way?"

Guen Nadesti nodded.

"Then you know that if you let us stay, you get much more than just me. And my two youngest girls have skills of their own. I wager that within a year or two, you'll be very glad to have them on your side."

The old woman glanced at the young man in the helmet. Vingoldas didn't move, nor did his expression change. From that, I guessed that nothing I had said so far came as a surprise to either of them.

- "I swore, years ago," said Guen Nadesti, "that I would never make peace with Veran Hammerfist."

"One should never make such an oath lightly. But it seems that I've been released from my vow. Hammerfist is gone. And it just may be that I can work with Veran One-Eye."

I didn't react. She wasn't finished.

"But I have a few conditions, if you are to stay here, with us."

- "Name them."

- "First, I am the headwoman of Prospal Hill. These are my folk."

- "Understood." I said.

- "So you will obey me, as my people do."

- "No."

She frowned.

"I will respect you, as your people do." I said. "I will not challenge you publicly. I will do nothing to undermine your position - or your authority. But I'm not your servant, or your bondsman."

- "Fair enough." she said.

- "You said 'conditions'. What else?"

- "I will choose husbands for your daughters." said Mother Nadesti.

- "No."

- "You're making this more difficult, One-Eye. Are you trying to make me reconsider my decision?"

- "No, Guen. I want my daughters to grow up safe. But you can't choose their husbands."

- "Why not?"

I wasn't about to say anything about her disastrous choice of a husband for her own daughter - I wonder if she expected me to.

- "Because my daughters will choose their own husbands, when the time comes. I expect that they'll consult me, and I hope they'll take my advice. But the decision will be theirs."

- "What makes you think they'll choose wisely?" said Guen Nadesti.

- "What makes you think they won't?"

She thought about that in silence for a time. Vingoldas didn't move. The man's ability to sit still was impressive. I tried to look impassive. I wasn't at all sure yet that she was going to let us stay.

Then the old woman looked me in the eye.

- "I asked your daughters a question, the other day." she said. "The middle girl - Tanguiste - she told me that if I invited you to stay, I would never have cause to regret it."

"I asked, in return, if she knew what had passed between us. The history of our families."

I nodded.

- "We didn't hide anything from our children." I said.

- "Oh yes - she knew." said Mother Nadesti. "So I asked her: after all of that, how could I trust you? How could I ever trust you?"

"And do you know what the girl said to me?"

"That's entirely up to you, Mother Nadesti. There's nothing my Father can do to change your mind. Trust is something you have to give."

"Most people think that trust is earned - it's not. You have to grant someone your trust. You extend it. It's a reach - a leap of faith. You can never know for certain if your faith is justified. Until it's tested - that's when you find out if a person is trustworthy."

"I was shocked, Veran. That girl is wise beyond her years. But I said to her: 'What are you on about, girl?"

"She said: If I was your daughter, and you told me not to do something ... how could you be sure that I wouldn't? Even if you put temptation in my path, and I passed your test - how could you know that I would pass a second test ... or a third?"

"That's what betrayal is, Mother Nadesti. That's why it hurts so much."

Guen Nadesti sighed, deeply. I saw her bright eyes, and the craggy, wrinkled ruins of her sagging face. For a strange moment, I felt the weight of her years, and her losses, and her many heartbreaks.

- "She's ... she's a bright girl." I said. "And to make matters worse, she's the spitting image of her mother."

Guen nodded. Vingoldas had the good sense not to say anything. He didn't move.

- "I've thought about little else, for the past two days." said the old woman. "She's clever, alright - I'll grant her that. She planted a seed in my head, and I couldn't get it out."

I was about to say 'I'm sorry' - but I wasn't.

"I'm impressed by your daughters, One-Eye. And it occurred to me that the man who helped raise such fine girls might have some similar qualities himself."

"I've told you two of my conditions, and you've rejected them both." she said. "Now I'm about to tell you my third - my final condition. But there's no give on this one, Veran. You agree ... or you leave. Is that understood?"

I couldn't even begin to guess what she was going to say. Did I have a choice, though?

- "Say it."

- "Do you understand?" she repeated. "You agree to my last condition, or you leave."

Now I was even more confused. How bad could it be? At the worst, I would still have a choice - though a winter in the wilds, with three young girls, was not be taken lightly.

- "I understand."

Mother Nadesti sighed again.

- "You have to marry my daughter."

*****