The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) (19 page)

There
were the practical advantages. Being married to the hetman’s daughter would solidify
his status here even more than all of his innovations. He would be accepted as
a Caedelli, even if a naturalized one. He wanted to introduce as much knowledge
as he could and as the civilization here could absorb, and to be part of a
hetman’s family would provide blowback protection from people or institutions that
might not like what he was doing.

And
she’s right. If I don’t live in the here and now, then I give up the future.

His
attention focused back on Maera, sitting on the cloth, legs folded under her,
hands clenched in her lap, a pale face and wide eyes staring at him.

Once
again, to be honest and objective, am I likely to get a better option for a
wife?
was
his last chiding thought
.

Her
patience, never one of her sterling qualities, capitulated. “If you don’t want
to marry me, I’ll understand,” she squeezed out. “Forgive me for surprising you
with such an unseemly proposal.” Her mind had already begun processing that he
was going to refuse, wondering how she would tell her mother, and dreading how
she might feel after having committed herself.

“Sorry
for being quiet, Maera, but you must admit your proposal was both a surprise
and something that doesn’t warrant or deserve a quick response.”

So,
what’s the answer?!
she wanted to scream.

He
paused, ran a hand down his pant leg, and tugged at his beard. His eyes roamed
from her face down her body, then stared off toward the valley below. Yozef’s
first reaction had been surprise, the second was that he should take time to
consider before making any commitment. How did he feel about her? How did he
feel about marriage? And in this world, that meant children, plural.

Why
do I need more time? To say no? What about her father? She hasn’t indicated that
he knows anything about this. Maybe he’ll shitcan the whole idea. In this
culture, if the father says no, then that’d be it. How would I feel then? Look
at her. She looks nervous, afraid to be disappointed, and angry I haven’t already
answered.

Poor
Maera. Someone that smart trying to fit into the pre-made molds of this society.
In many ways,
I
may well be the
best match she would ever find on the island.

The
same could be said for me. I’m never going to share everything with anyone
here, not even a wife. Maera may the closest I could come. She’s smart and
inquisitive. She would be a help in anything I try to introduce. And I’m
attracted to her. The kiss on the picnic was spontaneous, and the time we’ve
spent the last sixday has only reinforced that attraction. Didn’t she just
solve for me my indecision on how to follow up?

Hell,
sometimes you just gotta go with a gut feeling.

He
turned his focus back to her. Her jaw was clamped, her breath deep and halting,
fingers rhythmically clenching and relaxing.

“Yes,
Maera. I would very much like to marry you.”

She
went limp where she sat. Unbidden tears came to her eyes, whether from joy at
the answer or relief at
having
any answer, she didn’t know. She
swallowed, started to respond and felt a croak coming, stopped, and swallowed
again.

“That’s
. . . good . . . I’m pleased.”
Well, God! What else am I supposed to say!?

Yozef,
bless him, once more came to her rescue. “What’s your father going to say?”

Given
a concrete problem to focus on, Maera regained her composure.

“I’ll
take care of Father. If necessary, Mother will help.”

“There
are, of course, many things to talk about,” said Yozef. “When would the
marriage take place? That is, how long before the formalities are taken care of,
once we have your father’s approval?”

Maera
was in her element, planning details. “I think three to four sixdays from now, assuming
Father gives permission when he returns.”

“That
soon?” Yozef chuckled. “And not even a shotgun wedding or the bride in
trouble.”

“Shotgun?
And why would I have trouble?”

“Never
mind, just some expressions from English. They don’t translate well into
Caedelli.”

A
sudden gust of wind took the lid off one of the food baskets. It sailed off
downslope and disappeared into a clump of brush, as they took first notice of the
changing weather—their having been engaged in becoming engaged. Cloud cover obscured
the sun, and the wind whipped the tree branches.

“Perhaps
we should eat and start back to the manor.”

And
they did eat . . . quietly. Maera passed morsels they had laid out to Yozef,
who took them from her hand. Several times he held her hand momentarily. The first
time she flinched, then held back in return. No words were said. They ate faster,
as the air chilled and the sky darkened with thickening clouds rising over the
ridgeline. Finished, they had repacked the remnants of the meal, folded up the
cloth, and put everything back in the dray when she was about to climb up into
the seat. He put a hand on her arm and turned her toward him.

“The
day I kissed you at Abersford, I was afraid I’d done something terribly
inappropriate, and you were mad at me. Especially when you wouldn’t talk to me
afterward.”

“I
was confused,” said Maera, “and unsure of what I both
should
say or
wanted
to say.”

He
looked down to her from his six-inch advantage. At the moment, she seemed
smaller than he remembered.

Or
maybe it’s just her personality that makes her seem bigger
.

“Now
that we’ve agreed to marry, I think another kiss is appropriate.”

Her
irises widened, and she leaned closer. “Yes, a reasonable suggestion.”

This
second kiss was longer than the first. This time, she didn’t break off suddenly,
but it ended on its own, as she lowered her head against his chest. He kept
both arms around her and held her body to his, gently but firmly. Even with
their heavy clothing, he could feel the mounds of her breasts. He ended the
embrace with his hands stroking her back and arms. She was flushed and
breathing heavily.

“There,”
he said. “Let’s consider that the first sign of our coming marriage.”

She
nodded without words, and they returned quickly to the manor, arriving just as
the threatening weather turned into reality and a driving rain covered the
valley. A man sped over to hold the horse, as Yozef gave Maera a hand from the
dray, and they ran to the veranda’s shelter. There, he held and drew her to
him. She put a hand on his chest.

“It’s
best if we don’t give ourselves away until we talk to Mother and Father. It’s
only proper for a hetman’s daughter.”

He
smiled. “No problem, Maera. I can wait for tomorrow before the next kiss.”

She
blushed and squeezed his hand. “I’ll take the basket in and see you at evening
meal.”  

Neither
of them talked to anyone else the rest of the afternoon, each within a private
world of thoughts, wondering whether they’d made the right decision, each not
knowing but still anticipatory.

Evening
meal was
interesting
. When the family members gathered in their usual
places at the table, only the two middle sisters were oblivious that something
had changed. Breda knew, because she and Maera had already talked about
broaching Yozef that day, and Maera’s awkward flush and sideways looks to Yozef
told her all that she needed. Mared, the youngest daughter, was probably as
sharp as Maera and had several days ago discerned what was going on between her
sister and the strange but nice man from Abersford. Ceinwyn and Anid were clueless
about events, yet couldn’t help but notice Maera’s mood. Ceinwyn actually
became concerned that Maera was ill when one of her catty remarks was sloughed off
with a wan smile.

After
the meal, the three younger daughters were excused by Breda, to their
protestations, because even Ceinwyn finally realized something was up. When the
protesters had exited, and their mother checked the door for dallying ears,
Maera broke the news.

“Mother,
Yozef and I have decided to be married.”

“That’s
nice, dear.”

Red
flags hoisted in Yozef’s mind at the equanimity of Breda’s response.

That’s
nice? Your daughter, the eldest child of the clan’s hetman, announces she’s
marrying someone not even from the island, and that’s all you say? Something
tells me this isn’t news to her.

“Now
we’ll have to see what your father says,” Breda added, smiling.

That
confirms it. It’s a conspiracy. I was the first target, and now it’s the
father’s turn. He may be hetman of all of the Keelanders, but I suspect he’s overmatched
.

Despite
this thought, Yozef still wondered exactly what Culich Keelan’s response would be
and whether he should alert Carnigan to have himself and the carriage ready for
a quick departure.

The
Hetman Returns

Yozef
advocated that he should talk to the father first but was relieved when the
female component of what was now a tri-partite conspiracy vetoed this noble
gesture. Meara and Breda would go first, together at Breda’s insistence and
over the objections of Maera, who thought she should brace the father alone. Yozef
was told not to appear for evening meal, and he walked into Caernford to eat
with Carnigan, who wondered at his friend’s distraction.

Hetman
Keelan’s carriage drove into the manor yard, along with several of his men,
near dusk the next day. His mood was not the cheeriest. The meetings with the
Hewell and the Adris had gone well enough. Hewell confirmed the desire to join
the Tri-Clan Alliance, and only a formal meeting and acceptance with the
alliance’s three hetmen remained, scheduled for the next month. As for Adris, its
new hetman had gathered all of his boyermen to meet with Culich, and by a nine
to two advisory vote had supported making it a Five-Clan Alliance. Hetman Adris
had not technically needed the vote, but Culich approved of the way he had
gathered boyermen backing and then put it to a vote, once he had counted how
the vote would go.

Less
successful was the meeting with the Bevans and Pawell hetmen together, near
their borders with Adris. Bevans reckoned themselves too remote from the danger,
while Pawell was more concerned with the neighboring Skouks and Nyvacks clans
and long-standing border disputes and ancient animosities. Culich’s evaluation of
the two hetmen was “Stupid heads up their asses, idiot bird brains.”

It
was the former success with Adris and Hewell that Breda kept bringing up at the
evening meal’s conversation, to keep her husband as upbeat as possible. Culich,
as shrewd a leader as he was known to be, was oblivious to the moods running
through the female contingent of his family, meaning everyone else at the table.
Maera backed her mother in keeping the conversation light and positive, and the
three younger Keelan females were under dire threat from their mother to behave
and keep their mouths shut.

Thus,
after Breda dismissed the three younger daughters, who left quietly, as forewarned,
Hetman Keelan, leader of the sixty-thousand-member Keelan Clan, was relaxing
after the family meal when Breda brought the conversation to the main topic of
the evening.

Maera
and her parents sat sipping glasses of one of the latest liqueurs to come from
Abersford’s booming distillation industry.

“How
do you like this latest drink from one of Yozef Kolsko’s enterprises, dear?
Maera says it’s called ‘Amaretto,’ for some reason. The flavor is from balco
nuts.”

Culich
took another sip. “Perhaps a little strong on the balco flavor, but it
certainly is smoother than the whiskey we’ve had before. I’m still more a beer
man myself. I can appreciate this Amaretto, though, and maybe it’ll grow on me.
It certainly makes one glow inside.”

Breda
smiled at Maera. “It seems to be getting popular, along with all those other
new products Kolsko is introducing. He is becoming quite a wealthy young man.”

“Wealthy,
yes. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if in a few years he’ll be the wealthiest
man on all of Caedellium, just with what he has introduced so far. Only the
Merciful God knows what else he’ll come up with.”

“And
such a nice and respectable man, too, don’t you agree?”

“Nice?
I suppose. Respectful also, but in a way that always suggests he’s not
impressed by anything. Of course, as you and Maera have pointed out, that could
just be differences in his people’s customs.”

“You’ve
found your discussions with him about the Narthani and other matters of value,
haven’t you?” Maera chimed in for the first time.

Although
Culich was not the most perceptive Caedelli male when dealing with family
females, neither was he the worst, and his skill at reading and handling men
had crossover. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the last run of comments.