The Chronicles: Three Sisters 06

- "Oh?"

She didn't turn her head, but she did nod. "Yes. Had you fallen, we would have had to fight."

There was something chilling about the way she said it.

I tried not to stare, but I glanced at her, from the side, several times. She was deliberately avoiding eye contact, keeping her head down, and turned slightly away, so that she wouldn't have to meet my eye.

- "Sulcen ..." I said - with no idea what came next.

Then she turned, and met my gaze.

I wished she hadn't.

There was so much pain in her eyes. It went beyond despair. Despair is the loss of hope. I was very near to it myself, the night Meonwe was raped and killed. I despaired, briefly, overcome by my defeat, and by the horrors my loved ones had to endure. Yevna had rescued me - she restored my hope.

Sulcen looked like someone who had never known hope in the first place.

I wanted to ask her what had happened ... what she had been through. It was probably not a good idea, but that didn't matter: I didn't have the courage. Or the foolishness. Sulcen looked down again.

But I couldn't sit there and say nothing. Already, the silence between us was lengthening ... as I grew more uncomfortably aware of it.

- "Umm ... I - ah ..." I felt like a complete idiot. Better not to say anything, than to be making these inarticulate noises. Then I blurted out: "Your Mother spoke to you?"

Sulcen nodded.

"About me?" I asked.

- "Yes."

- "And about ...?"

- "Marriage? Yes."

It was impossible to read her face - or her profile, to be more precise, because she was half-turned away from me. But even without the curtain of her hair partially hiding her features, I doubt that I could have guessed what she was thinking.

- "Ah ... how ... how do you feel about it? Do you ... want this?"

- "Why do you ask?" she said.

That was not at all what I had expected.

- "Well ... your mother ... is offering me a marriage. To you. So ... I was wondering. Do you ... want to be married? To me?"

She turned, slightly, to look me in the eye.

- "Do you?" she said.

- "What?"

- "Do you want to marry?" she asked.

- "Of course I do." Why I said that, I don't know. It remains a complete mystery to me.

- "Why?" she asked.

Now I was stuck. Before I could reflect on what I was doing, I told her the truth.

- "So that my daughters can stay here, and be safe." I said. "Because an alliance between our families may help to ... heal the ... to end the bad feeling between your mother and me."

"And ... because you're lovely."

Sulcen didn't react to anything I'd said. I couldn't tell if she was pleased, or upset.

- "So why ask me?" she said. "Why not just accept the bargain and take me?"

- "I wanted ..." Damn- why was this so difficult? "I wanted to know, Sulcen, how you feel about it. I would rather have you happy. Or, at least - not unhappy."

- "I am not unhappy." she said.

Well that was something, I suppose.

- "I know that ... that I'm no great prize." I gestured to my missing eye, to my scars. "In terms of looks ... and in other ways."

"And I understand that you've ... been through a ... a great deal. I won't ... I won't force myself on -"

- "I will be a dutiful wife." she said. Sulcen turned again, to look me in the face. "I understand that you will try to make me happy. I will try to do the same."

***

The next day, I met with Vingoldas. None of his watchers - young children, or girls, for the most part - had seen anyone approaching the hill from the landward side. Hopefully, then, the boatmen had been acting alone, and their disappearance would befuddle or confuse Bacho.

Vingoldas didn't say anything else - but he did extend his hand to me. I took it.

Then I went to see Mother Nadesti.

- "She said yes." I told her.

- "She did?"

- "You sound surprised."

- "No - just pleased."

- "Why do you even want this wedding?" I asked her. "What do you get out of it? Is it just so that you can trust me? Surely, after yesterday, that's no longer an issue?"

The old woman shook her head.

- "No. You've always been reliable. Your daughter was right. I have to choose to trust you - or not. But I've always suspected that you were one of the most trustworthy people I know."

Given that I had killed two of her sons, and caused her to flee to this swamp-encircled hill, it was quite something to hear Guen Nadesti say that she trusted me.

- "Thank you, for that." I said.

- "I always liked you, Veran. And I bear some of the responsibility for what happened. I might have been able to hold Dengel back, if I had really tried."

- "I had nothing but respect for him."

- "I know. I've had plenty of time to wonder if the two of you could have been friends."

I understood her pain. Had she encouraged Dengel to befriend me, he would still be alive. There would have been no battle, and several Nadesti men would still be alive as well.

Guengerthlon also had to know that if she had made an effort to bring Dengel and me together, that Meonwe and Iarn would probably still be with us, too.

If only we had sat down, and had a serious conversation.

If Lanko had been punished, by his own family, for stealing sheep. If Dengel and I had become friends. Bacho would never have had the opportunity to betray me.

Meonwe ...

Pain doesn't always diminish with time. Sometimes it remains as powerful as the first time we felt it. I couldn't help myself; tears came to my eye, and my scarred, eyeless socket throbbed.

- "I'm sorry, Veran." she whispered.

- "So am I, Guen."

- "I know."

- "Then why this ploy? Why this marriage?"

Guen Nadesti looked very old, at that moment. Old, and vulnerable.

- "Can't you see it?" she said, softly. "You took my sons."

"Veran - you took my sons. Now I want you to bring me back my daughter."

She didn't cry. I don't know if she could, anymore. But I wanted to.

- "Why ... what makes you think that I can, Guen?"

- "I know you can."

- "Why? Because we're ... fellow sufferers? Because you think I can understand her pain? That I somehow know how much it cost her?"

- "No." said her mother. "Because when you arrived, it was the first time I saw a spark of interest in Sulcen. The first time since she came back."

"When I discussed you with Vingoldas, Sulcen listened - attentively - to every word. You think she's hard to reach? You should have seen her before you got here."

I swallowed. "I'm not sure ... that I can do it."

- "I want you to try." said Mother Nadesti. "She's my last child, Veran."

***

Both of us had experienced a marriage ceremony before. I didn't want to be swamped by memories of Meonwe - not in this way, nor at this time. And I doubted that Sulcen would want to be reminded of her first husband.

That was why I decided that we should do something different - something unconventional. Sulcen agreed to my suggestion, though without any particular enthusiasm. Her mother was more encouraging.

- "Very thoughtful, Veran." she said. "Very wise."

We married beneath the trees, with only her mother and my daughters as witnesses. Virtually everyone else on Prospal Hill knew what was going on, but I don't believe that any of them begrudged us the privacy.

I spoke the vows, and Sulcen answered. To my surprise, she met my eye when she said the words. I still couldn't read her expression.

Afterwards, we broke bread, and drank sushen - fermented honey. There were no crude jokes, no ribald behaviour. The girls were wonderful. Even Yevna gave Sulcen a hug. Tanguiste embraced her, and squeezed her tight. Guenna kept herself in check, and only asked two questions.

Mother Nadesti took my daughters back to her house. Sulcen and I spread a fur and a blanket under the stars.

- "Have you ... have you been with many women?" she asked. "Since ...?"

It was a painful memory. But it was also one of the very few times Sulcen had spoken to me without being asked a question. I wanted to treat her query with respect.

- "No." I said, softly. "None. You will have to ... be patient with me."

- "I haven't, either." she whispered.

I kissed her cheek, and enfolded her in my arms. I didn't caress her, or touch her ... anywhere. I just held her.

It might have been easiest to simply hold her, and let us fall asleep together.

But once we began in that manner, it might prove difficult - or even impossible - to progress any further. 'Start as you mean to go on', my father used to say.

I began to lightly stroke her back, and then her shoulders. She shivered, and clung to me more tightly - but she didn't pull away. When I sought her lips with mine, Sulcen allowed me to kiss her. And then, to my further surprise, she kissed me back.

What followed was not especially passionate - I was too careful, too afraid to rush, or to hurt her. But it was warm, and close, and more intimate than I had expected.

Sulcen gave of herself, as much as she was able. We consummated our marriage, under the stars, and then held each other close.

***

We had to build two new houses, before winter: one for Moruith and Inisian, and a larger one for my three daughters, and my new wife.

Hedyn and Vingoldas pitched in to help us. Everyone on the hill contributed, in one way or another, whether by carrying stone, providing food, or keeping watch while the rest of us worked.

- "Should we have a house of our own?" I asked Sulcen. "Would you prefer that?"

- "That would be cruel." she said. "To your girls. And to you."

- "Are you sure you won't mind?"

- "Your daughters mean the world to you. I can see that." she said. "They would suffer, to be away from you. And ... I hope that I can be their friend. In time."

- "Probably sooner than you think." I said.

*****