Isobel Page 11

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s all so… final.”

  Isobel laughed.

  “What would you rather be doing?”

  “Nothing I can think of,” Andie said. “I don’t really feel like it will change anything. I can still wander and I can come here… Galinda says she’ll come with me. Is that true?”

  “I’ve given her permission,” Isobel said, shifting. She always got straw in her hair when they came out here, but Andie was happy amid the warm smell of animals, and Isobel seemed to like to get out of the house, so Andie never asked about the straw. Isobel was watching her, now.

  “I think things will change more than you expect,” she said.

  “What’s it like?” Andie asked.

  “What?” Isobel asked.

  “Being married. Attaching all of your fortunes to someone else?”

  The woman’s eyes went unfocused for a moment, and Andie waited. They only rarely spoke of Rafa, and Andie knew better than to ask direct questions about him, by now.

  “What would your mother say?” Isobel asked.

  “That this is what I’ve prepared for my whole life,” Andie said.

  “But have you?”

  Andie thought about it for a second, then laughed.

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “Do you love him?” Isobel asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess so.”

  Isobel rotated her face to one side and narrowed her eyes.

  “And you would marry him?”

  Andie shrugged.

  “I like him. That’s more than I ever hoped for. He listens to me. I don’t know… I never expected to be in love. Do you love Rafa?”

  “With everything,” Isobel said. It was so truthful, so exposed, that for a moment Andie almost felt ashamed. She looked away.

  “Marriages happen for worse reasons every day,” Isobel said. “Convenience, politics, revenge… lust. Friendship is hardly the worst reason I’ve ever heard. I feel like there’s more to this than that, though. Aistin wants to get married soon… what do you want?”

  To sit here forever, Andie thought.

  “How did you decide to marry Rafa?” she asked.

  “He was the only one in my world,” Isobel said. “After a while, it was just obvious.”

  It certainly wasn’t obvious to Andie. Aistin wasn’t, anyway. Isobel and Rafa, sure.

  “He called me his betrothed,” Andie said. “Isn’t he supposed to ask… someone… first?”

  “You have no father for him to ask; Lykos gave his consent by sending you. Aistin spoke to Rafa some time ago, and Rafa gave him permission to further his interests as far as you were interested. It’s a funny world for a woman with opinions.”

  They were quiet for a few minutes. Andie had secretly wished she were a man dozens of times, but it was so startling to hear someone else say it. Well, Isobel hadn’t said she wished she were a man, just… but still. Isobel shifted.

  “You should probably talk to Rafa,” she said.

  “Oh?” Andie asked. He still held the frightening mystery she had felt for him as a child, and she had never made to seek him out. When he was around, her conversations with Isobel were short and impersonal. Isobel read this in her and smiled at the rafters.

  “He isn’t what you think he is.”

  “I don’t know what I think he is,” Andie said.

  “You think he’s scary. And distant.” Isobel’s eyes darted to the side and she twisted her mouth. “Well, he is those things, but there’s a lot more to him. You should talk to him.”

  “About what?”

  “The decision to marry.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s seen great and terrible things. His perspective often surprises me, even now.”

  Andie didn’t want to, but the level of confidence the offer implied was more than she was prepared to walk away from.

  “Okay.”

  Isobel nodded, then rolled sideways as far as she could on the stool and propped her jaw up on her fist.

  “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m curious. Have you kissed him?”

  “Aistin?”

  Isobel laughed.

  “No, Rafa. Of course Aistin.”

  Andie shook her head, her body shifting away from Isobel with an involuntary force that nearly landed her on the ground. She felt her cheeks color.

  “You should,” Isobel said.

  “What?”

  Isobel nodded.

  “Trust me on this. You say you’re friends, and I believe you. If you’re considering marrying the boy, you may as well know about the upside.”

  Andie stuttered and Isobel laughed and stood, brushing hay off of her dress.

  “Are you going to try Valerie in the snow today?”

  “I think she misses Greece,” Andie said.

  “I expect she does,” Isobel said. “If you take her, bring Galinda with you. Iovanna won’t leave you, but I don’t want you out on Valerie on your own.”

  Andie nodded, remembering the stories about not finding men until spring.

  “Yeah.”

  Isobel nodded.

  “I’m going to go see my Valerie and see how the stores are holding up this winter.”

  Andie stood and Isobel squeezed her shoulder and left, long dark hair forming a cloak behind her. Andie sat with Valerie-the-mare for a few minutes before she went into the house to find Galinda.

  The winter broke into a dry, cold season, when the men resumed hunting and fishing and the women prepared their homes for the next planting season, and then spring won out over the cold. The trees budded and flowered, and the forest floor was littered everywhere with opportunistic little wildflowers catching light while they could. The explosion of color took her by surprise, and for a little while, Andie nearly forgot about her impending adulthood. She rode with Isobel for hours, picking flowers and marveling at the place she had ended up. A land that never saw winter, she came to believe, didn’t know how to properly celebrate spring. Summer came, and with it a heat that almost seemed foreign to Andie. Laukas took her out on boats, fishing and exploring little islands for the various treasures the sea washed up. She went to ceremonies at the sanctuary and spent countless hours with Aistin, just talking. Somehow they never ran out of things to talk about, and yet they never discussed themselves. Their relationship remained as undefined and assumed as ever, and it frustrated Andie. She found herself unable to bring it up, though, because she was happy with how they were. She didn’t want to risk upsetting it by making other things important. She complained to Isobel and the woman laughed.

  “You’re going to have to find your own way in the world, there, child,” she said.

  Andie hadn’t forgotten Isobel’s advice that she speak with Rafa, but the man was so difficult to find, and so central to the household’s existence when he was around, that she continued to postpone it.

  She was in her room one mid-morning, trying to learn a regional craft Galinda had insisted she should be able to master, when a commotion downstairs gave her a ready excuse to leave it in a mess on her bed. The ruddy face in the front hall startled her, and she ran for him.

  “Saul!”

  “Hey, there, girlie. How are things?”

  She hugged him hard, startled to find tears in her eyes.

  “How are you?” she asked. “How are Eb and Ben?”

  “They’re outside. You’ve lost weight. Aren’t they feeding you here?”

  She was still a little wan from her sickness, but she’d forgotten about it. She looked down at her figure and laughed.

  “It’s all the hard work,” she said, the sound of his quick Greek speech welcome to her. Isobel emerged from somewhere else in the house and greeted Saul.

  “We’re always glad to see you, trader. What have you brought us?”

  “Oh, many fine things, as always,” Saul said. “The more important thing is what have you got for me?”

  “Have I ever disappointed you?” Isob
el asked.

  “How is my family?” Andie asked, taking Saul’s arm and going into the main room after Isobel.

  “Your father was planning for a spring war when I passed through,” Saul said. “Didn’t have much to say to old Saul, but your mother was glad to hear you arrived well. Asked me to stop back this year, if I managed to get this far, again.” He blew air through his lips. “As if I wouldn’t. But what of your young prince? Did you pick a good one?”

  “She picked the most difficult of them,” Isobel said, “though he has had the good fortune to survive the year.”

  “They lost someone?” Saul asked, the nature of his attention changing.

  “Elbing is dead,” Isobel said. “This winter.”

  “How?”

  “Raid,” Isobel said. “One of your hairy men.”

  “Never said they were mine,” Saul said.

  “You take their money.”

  “I take everyone’s money.”

  “Explain how that’s an excuse.”

  Saul winked at Andie, but he was less playful, now.

  “How are things holding up?”

  “Laukas will make a fine king, even if he never prepared himself for it,” Isobel said.

  “Why kings have sons,” Saul observed, grim.

  “You should tell Aistin that Saul is here,” Isobel said. “The king will have things stored for trade.”

  Andie hesitated, and Saul pinched her.

  “I’ll still be here, girlie,” he said. “Bring me your young man. I need to lay eyes on him so I can give his measure to your mother.”

  Andie hesitated a moment longer, then dashed to the barn. Valerie startled as Andie threw herself onto the mare’s back and urged her into a run, but was never one to turn down a run through the woods. The sandy path between the trees was in shadow all day, again, and the woods around her were quiet as they raced to the king’s estate. Andie felt great, like flying on the swift wind and never coming down. The shadow Elbing had cast in his passing was gone, and even Isobel’s moody recollection of it couldn’t dim the fact that Saul was here. Andie wanted to sit and talk with him for hours, make him tell her everything he had seen and done in the past year. Valerie was light and fleet, kicking up her back feet as she ran in a gleeful appreciation of being out. Andie smiled at the cool aloofness of the forest, and closed her eyes, just for a moment, then curled down over Valerie’s back and they ran on.

  A servant intercepted her in the king’s yard and Valerie blew and danced as Andie sprung to the ground.

  “Tell Aistin I’m here,” she called to the house servant who opened the door. “And that he’s going back with me.”

  The man dipped his head and disappeared. Andie took deep breaths of the warm, humid air, feeling alive. Saul was here. He’d been to Egypt and back since she’d last seen him. Egypt. She barely even knew what that meant. Vast stretches of sand and men with red skin who built great things.

  Aistin came outside a few minutes later.

  “What’s this about?” he asked. Andie opened her mouth to answer, then frowned.

  “What’s that?” she asked. He turned and backed across the yard to try to see what she was looking at. Smoke trickled up into the sky beyond the palace. As she watched, it grew thicker. She ran toward the shores.

  Four fishing boats were drifting in with the waves as she rounded the last hill before she hit the rocky shore. Red sails were disappearing over the far horizon. Fishermen were out, waist-deep in the waves, trying to intercept the boats and help survivors, and there were cries and yells. The boats burned fast, and while the fishermen made valiant efforts to search them, it was clear from where Andie stood that they wouldn’t find anyone alive. The stories Elbing and Laukas had told of raids suddenly became real to her. The barn was on fire and all the horses were inside, and now there was no Rafa to kick in a wall and go in after them.

  They were all already dead.

  She shook.

  Aistin passed her, running down to the shore, calling the men back. Only one of the boats still floated; two were on their sides, beached, and the third hadn’t made it close enough to shore to beach. The entire hull was underwater, and the mast flamed and sputtered like a torch.

  The shore suddenly grew quiet.

  The water lapped at the stones and wood snapped and popped with heat, and the men were silent.

  Then Aistin wailed and fell to his knees. Andie turned and ran.

  She hit Valerie at speed, flipping up onto the mare’s back and booting her into a sprint. Her hands sweated on the reins and her heart ran at a hard throb that threatened to shake her off the mare’s back as they ran.

  No.

  No.

  The happy little pieces of her world threatened to fall apart. This was supposed to be a safe place, one where she got married and raised children and played with them in the sun. Where Isobel walked with her in the forest.

  Not the kind of place where people just died.

  The mountain men had only raided when the fighting troops were away. Not when they were all home, hunting and fishing and farming.

  For the first time, she felt as though her way of life were in danger.

  Her lungs ran dry and Valerie found her way back to Isobel’s stone fortress without direction. Her motions were jerky, fearful at Andie’s unfamiliar behavior. Andie didn’t spare her. She was, herself, afraid.

  In the yard, she rolled to the ground, her knees buckling beneath her, and she caught herself on her palms.

  Elbing would have been king. He would have been a great king.

  Laukas would have been king. He would have been a good king.

  Now Aistin would be king. King, with all of the responsibilities over the soldiers, and all of the responsibilities over the farmers. And if she went through with it, she would be queen, beside him.

  She scrambled to her feet and ran inside, brushing past servants and ignoring Galinda when the woman called out to her. She ran up to her room and pulled out a small wooden chest Isobel had given her, and brought it downstairs, bouncing it against her knees to keep it lifted. Saul and Isobel stood with a small group of servants in the main hall, watching her. She dropped the chest and kicked the lid back, then dumped it over with her foot, letting the mass of amber stones roll across the floor.

  “What is this about?” Isobel asked.

  “I know what they’re worth,” Andie said to Saul, ignoring Isobel. “I want you to buy them.”

  “You know I don’t carry goods worth that much,” Saul said. “Even I don’t.”

  “On consignment,” she said. “You bring their value back with you next year.”

  He knelt and picked up one of the stones, rolling it in his palm.

  “And what would you have me bring back?” he asked.

  “Dried fruit,” Andie said. It had been on her mind for a while, and it was the first thing that came out. He started to smile, but the stony look on her face stopped him. He stood.

  “What else?”

  She glanced at Isobel, then looked firmly at Saul, back straight, fists clenched.

  “Weapons.”

  Andie didn’t sleep well that night. She was restless and the muggy heat that usually broke in the evening stayed through the darkness this night, oppressive and making sleep elusive and dreams oppressive. She woke from an uncomfortable un-sleep to find Rafa in her room, staring up at the sky. The moon colored his skin white, and his dark hair vanished against the stones behind him.

  “Isobel says you’ve been looking for me,” he said.

  Why tonight? Why, oh why did he come tonight?

  “Yes,” she answered, rubbing her eyes and peeling her clothes away from her skin.

  “What do you want of me?” he asked, his eyes not moving from the dark sky.

  “Help Aistin,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Why?” she echoed, her upset sleep raising her anger to a boil. “Why? Because he will be your king.”

  “He is not
my king. Nor is his father,” Rafa said, his voice soft but uncompromising. “Can’t you see that we don’t belong to these people?” He turned to face her, leaning against the stone, his face fully reflecting the moonlight. “Can’t you see that they have not adopted us, but we have adopted them?”

  “So you won’t help him?” Andie asked, feeling like her six-year-old self, huddled in her sticky blankets.

  “Of course I will. But not because you asked. You have given me my wife back, and I will grant you a favor, but not that.” He paused. “He will be the king. Will you be his queen?”

  Andie looked away.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What makes you uncertain?”

  She shrugged. He watched her for a moment, then shifted, sitting down in the windowsill and leaning his back against the wide rock that formed the side of the window.

  “Human passion is a tricky thing. I don’t know what sparks it. I don’t know that I ever will. But I do know that you are a passionate person, like my wife, and you shouldn’t do something that you aren’t passionate about.”

  “You would let me stay?” Andie asked.

  “I will never send you away,” Rafa said. “You are free to stay her so long as Isobel allows it.”

  “Why did you come, when I was a child?” she asked. It was a question that had been hidden under everything else, her whole life, and the opportunity to ask it exposed it. She didn’t know that she planned to ask it until it was out.

  “Because your father was my friend,” Rafa said. “He knew me better than any living man, and I wanted to see that his family was safe.”

  Andie shivered at the depth of meaning of the words, meaning she couldn’t even guess at. Rafa waited, but she didn’t follow his answer with a new question.

  “What will you do?” he asked.

  “I will go see Aistin, I suppose,” she said.

  “He will have heard that you sold the amber to Saul,” Rafa said. “Everyone has.”

  “Do you think he’ll be angry?” she asked.

  “It’s his right,” Rafa said. “They believe that the amber belongs to the goddess. But it’s also within your rights to sell it. It belongs to you.”

  Andie nodded. Rafa paused again, then stood.