The Law of Isolation (16 page)

Try as she might to conceal it, Kevessa’s excitement shone through her attempt at decorum. “I’ve applied myself to my studies of ancient literature, Father, just as you wished. I can read Shimanos easily now. Do you think I could understand them?”

Dear Mother, she looked just like Nanirra when her face lit up that way. Gevan cleared his throat. “I’m sure you could. In fact, that’s the reason I’m here. Among them is a young lady close to your age. I believe she would greatly benefit from a companion of good breeding to help her accustom herself to our ways. She’s learned some Ramunnan already, but she picked it up from the sailors aboard the ship that found them, so she sounds quite coarse. More refined conversation would help her perfect her accent. If you find the prospect pleasing, I thought I might escort you to the Matriarch’s palace and introduce you to her.”

Kevessa dropped her eyes again to her hands, which gripped each other so tightly the knuckles were turning white. “I find it most pleasing, Father. I must seek Mama and Papa’s permission first, but I’m sure if you ask they’ll agree.”

“Of course they will.” Alitta would be overjoyed that he was taking more than a cursory interest in his daughter. Her husband Revarren, for all his wealth and the prestige of the Erlorre family, was thoroughly dominated by Gevan’s sister. He would docilely agree with whatever his wife desired. “Is Alitta in? I’ll speak with her right away. The Matriarch wants me to bring you to court this afternoon.”

“Mama suggested that I invite you to share the midday meal with us, if it’s convenient. Papa will be joining us. You can ask them then.”

“I’d be delighted.” Alitta employed an excellent cook. The occasions when he shared a meal with her family were always gastronomically pleasurable, if socially strained. “Afterwards, assuming they agree, of course, I’ll take you to the palace.”

She kept her smile within the constrained bounds propriety dictated, but it sparkled. “Thank you, Father.” She looked sideways under her lashes at him, and the formality of her manner fell away a bit. “Can you tell me about her? About all of them? I heard you were right there, talking to them.”

“Yes, the Matriarch asked me to translate. I was at the palace when their ship arrived because I’d just presented my new invention to her.”

Kevessa lifted her chin another few degrees. “Hethem attended your presentation to the scholars at the University. Does it truly let you open a window and see far away, as the ancient wizards could?”

“It does.” Alitta’s eldest child Hethem was a student at the University. Gevan had hoped his nephew might follow him into the study of history, but he took after his father, with a head for numbers and business. “I can show it to you, if you’d like. Although I suppose it’s not the sort of thing that would interest a young woman.”

“Oh, no, Father. I would very much like to see it.” Kevessa sounded sincere, but Gevan wondered if she was simply humoring him. She was always pleasant and agreeable, but he’d seldom caught a glimpse of the person behind the careful facade.

Her interest in the strangers had been real, though. He was sure of it. He steered the conversation back in that direction. “I’ll make it a point to do so, then. Although I expect today you’ll be too busy getting acquainted with Nirel.”

A lift of her head and a quickening of her breath rewarded him. “That’s her name? It sounds strange. Nee-rrrrell? Not much like the names of the ancients.”

“Close. They pronounce their ‘r’’s differently, though, more toward the back of the tongue.” Gevan fell into the familiar didactic tone he used with his students. “Swallowed, almost. And the first vowel has two distinct parts slurred together. ‘Nah-ee-rel.”

“Naee-rel. Naaae-rel.”

He could tell Kevessa was doing her best, but she managed only a vague approximation of the way the foreign girl said it. Ah, well. The strangers would have to adapt to their names being pronounced in more conventional Ramunnan ways. His countrymen couldn’t be expected to twist their mouths around the weirdly degraded accent. His students had enough difficulties with basic Ancient Marvannan. “Close enough.”

“Does she have a family name?” Kevessa put her head to the side. Gevan hoped he hadn’t been wrong about her ability to accept the stranger. Nirel wouldn’t fit into any of the neat slots Kevessa had been taught to sort people into.

“Not that I could tell. Once she referred to herself as ‘Knitterkin.’ Apparently they use some sort of system of trade affiliations to identify themselves. Her mother belonged to a guild of knitters, I believe. But she responded oddly when I asked her about it and refused to tell me any more.”

“Oh.” Kevessa considered that for a moment, then turned to more practical matters. “You said she’s near my age?”

“A bit younger. Fourteen. Quite mature for her years, however.”

Kevessa nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me more. What was the first thing the strangers said to you?”

Gevan hesitated a moment, then launched into a detailed account of the meeting on the dock. As Kevessa’s interest continued unflagging, he recounted everything he could remember of the discussion over the dining table. He found himself much more relaxed than during their usual awkward, stilted conversations. On a typical visit the minutes dragged and he seized the earliest opportunity to flee. But this time, when the butler reappeared and announced the midday meal was ready to be served, he realized with surprise that more than an hour had passed without his notice.

Alitta swept up to greet him when he entered the dining room. “Gevan! What a pleasure!” She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on each cheek. He returned the greeting with only a little awkwardness. “I don’t remember the last time you ate with us. You should join us more often; you know you’re always welcome.”

“I’ll try. But you know my work at the University keeps me busy.” Even if it didn’t, he would only be able to tolerate this sort of strained and elaborate interaction on widely separated occasions.

His sister showed him to a seat. Hethem and the rest of Alitta’s brood sat stiff in their formal clothes. The youngest, Yarra, was only eleven; she squirmed a little, but subsided at a warning glance from her mother. Kevessa took her place among them, to all appearances just another sister among many. Gevan wondered how often she remembered these were actually her cousins and not her siblings. Did it bother her when his presence brought that fact uncomfortably to the fore?

If it did, she gave no sign. She chatted amiably with the others while they waited for the food to be served. Finally Revarren swept in, apologized for his tardiness, gave Alitta a quick peck on the cheek, and took his place at the head of the table. The servants bore in the first course, and Gevan took refuge in the pleasures of the repast from the strain of maintaining polite conversation.

After the final sweet course had been served and eaten he sat back and wiped his hands on the warm damp towel a servant presented him. Time to settle the matter and make as quick a departure as he could manage. “My dear sister, this has been a wonderful treat, but I’m afraid I must be going. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take Kevessa with me to the palace this afternoon. The Matriarch has invited me to present her at court. She wants to make her guests from across the sea feel welcome in Ramunna. I suggested that Kevessa’s fluency in Ancient Marvannan, which the foreigners speak, makes her an excellent candidate to befriend the young ladies of their party. Of course I’ll defer to your wishes, but I’m sure you see what an excellent opportunity this is for Kevessa. The Matriarch’s attention is invaluable for a young woman.”

Alitta frowned. “Are you sure, Gevan? From all I hear, those strangers are a wild and uncouth bunch. Folk say they arrived wearing nothing but rags, the women in trousers like the men.”

“That’s true, but due only to their difficult circumstances. They fled their homeland to escape persecution, bringing little with them. But the Matriarch has generously given them everything they need, and now they’re entirely respectable, I assure you. I wouldn’t allow Kevessa into their presence if they weren’t.”

The skeptical narrowing of Alitta’s eyes told him she was not at all confident of her brother’s ability to judge what was respectable, or suitable to expose his daughter to. “That’s all very well, Gevan, but Kevessa has other commitments. Her dance tutor is scheduled to come this afternoon, and she was going to pay a visit to the Tomarre sisters after that.”

“Please, Mama.” Alitta turned to Kevessa, her eyes widening in surprise. Gevan got the impression that it was quite unusual for her to speak up to her aunt this way. “We were just going to work on our embroidery. I can take that with me. And last week my dance instructor said I was nearly ready for the ball. It’s not for two more months; I’ll have plenty of chances to practice before then.”

Revarren cut in. “Think of what this could mean, dear. If Kevessa gains the Matriarch’s favor, it will be a great advantage when we negotiate her betrothal.”

“True.” Alitta put her head to the side, considering. Kevessa bowed her head, to all appearances demurely awaiting her decision. Gevan watched her with a little pang. Surely it would be years before such things should be a consideration? But no, it was usual for women of status in Ramunna to marry at eighteen or nineteen. Of course the negotiations must start much earlier.

Alitta shook her head. “I suppose. Though you must promise to bring her home at the slightest sign of trouble. I don’t trust those strangers.”

“Of course I will. And I’ll make sure they’re properly chaperoned by women of the court.”

“Good.” Alitta frowned at Kevessa, but when she saw how her niece held herself tautly poised, one corner of her mouth reluctantly turned up. “You may be excused, Kevessa. Get your things and meet your father at the door. I’ll send the carriage around.”

Kevessa rose, graceful as ever, but swift. “Thank you, Mama.” She bobbed a brief curtsy and fled the room with steps that bounced a bit too much to be strictly proper.

Gevan rose also. “Thank you for the wonderful meal, Alitta, and for the use of your carriage.” He’d be glad not to have to walk all the way to the palace. There were some rough areas of the city along the way. For a man it wasn’t a large concern, but for a young lady a carriage would be safer.

“I’ll show you out.” Alitta swept a hand towards her children. “Go on, the rest of you. Just because Kevessa’s afternoon schedule has changed doesn’t mean yours have. Hethem, your father doesn’t want to hear from your professors again about you being late.”

“No, ma’am.” Hethem ducked his head to his mother and joined the scramble as everyone departed the room.

Alitta waited for Gevan to precede her to the front of the house. The butler opened the door, and they stepped out onto the broad columned porch to wait for the carriage to pull around from the carriage-house in the back.

Alitta turned to him as soon as the door closed behind them. “You take care of her, Gevan.”

“I will. Don’t worry.” He put a placating hand on her arm.

She pulled away. “Of course I’ll worry.” She turned and looked at the palms lining the wide cobbled street. “She may be your daughter by blood, but she’s mine by heart. You don’t know her like I do. She’s obedient and dutiful as anyone could wish, but she’s got her own fancies and dreams behind those dark eyes. Exotic strangers, wizards... she’s smitten by them already. Maybe that will change when she meets them and the reality isn’t like her romantic imaginings. But maybe it will just get stronger.”

“I promise, Alitta, there’s no reason for concern. The strangers are quite ordinary. Now that they’re in normal clothes, except for their speech you’d never know they weren’t native Ramunnans.” That was a bit of an exaggeration, but he had to assuage the fear he saw in Alitta’s eyes. “Kevessa will see there’s nothing special about them.”

“Now, perhaps. But you say a ship is going to return and bring real wizards here? What then?”

What then, indeed? Everything depended on what the wizard’s powers proved to be. For Kevessa, and for Gevan. “Then we’ll all learn the truth.”

“Spoken like a true scholar.” Alitta smiled wryly at him. “You’ve always considered truth the highest good. But truth can hurt, Gevan.”

Did she think he didn’t know that? “Better pain caused by learning the truth than happy ignorance.” That had always been the cornerstone of his beliefs. Only recently had he questioned it. Did he really want to learn the truth about the wizards, if it overturned everything he thought he knew?

“Tell me that again after the truth has hurt you.” Alitta gazed at him sharply. His sister had always been far too good at reading his thoughts.

He spread his hands. “The truth is coming, Alitta. Only the Matriarch can stop that now, and she won’t. For good or ill, we’ll have to cope with whatever her ship brings.”

Alitta heaved a sigh. “You’re right, I know. I just want Kevessa to be safe. She’s got a good future ahead of her, Gevan. Don’t let this interfere with that.”

“I won’t.” He reached out and clasped her hands.

The carriage pulled around the corner and the driver brought the horses to a halt at the base of the porch steps. Gevan dropped Alitta’s hands and stepped back as the door of the house opened and Kevessa swept out. She clutched a sturdy embroidered bag in one gloved hand. With the other she held a light wrap around her shoulders to protect her dress from the dust of the street. The broad brim and veil of her traveling hat couldn’t hide the bright look of excited happiness she wore. “I’m ready, Father.”

“Come along, then.” Gevan took her arm and helped her into the carriage. He took his place beside her, waved to Alitta, and the carriage set out through the city toward the palace.

Eight

N
irel sat on the edge of the low stone wall that rimmed the terrace and looked out over the city and the harbor. Their ship bobbed peacefully at anchor. It had seemed so grand back in Elathir, the pride of Tevenar’s fleet, but here it was medium-sized, dwarfed by many larger ships.

Nirel wouldn’t have cared if it were a leaky little rowboat. She longed fiercely to be back aboard, far from this alien place with its miserable ways. She felt more confined in this luxurious castle than she had locked in prison. At least there her clothes had been comfortable.