Anna waited, crouched just in front of Aitrus in the narrow tunnel, looking out into the bottom of the well. Just below her, the surface of the tiny, circular pool was black. Slowly, very slowly, sunlight crept down the smooth, black wall facing her, a pure light, almost unreal it seemed so bright, each separate shaft a solid, shining bar in that penumbral darkness.
It was cool and silent, yet overhead, far above the surface, the sun approached its zenith.
“Wait…” Aitrus said softly. “Just a moment longer.”
The sunlight touched the still, curved edge of the water. A moment later the water’s depths were breached, the straight beam bent, refracted by the clear liquid.
Anna gasped. It was beautiful. The well had a solid wooden lid, but Aitrus had cut an intricate design into the wood. As the sun climbed directly above the well, so each part of that design was slowly etched upon the dark circle of the pool, until the whole of it could be seen, burning like shafts of brilliant fire in the cool, translucent depths of the water.
The D’ni word Shorah. “Peace.”
Anna smiled and turned to look at Aitrus, seeing how the word was reflected in the black centers of his pupils.
“So that’s what you were doing,” she said quietly. “I wondered.”
She turned back, knowing, without needing to be told, that its beauty was transient, would be gone just as soon as the sun moved from its zenith and the sunlight climbed the wall again.
“I made it for you,” he said.
I know , she thought. Aloud, she said, “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it?”
They watched, together in the silence, until, with a final, glittering wink, the brightness in the pool was gone.
Anna stared into the blackness and sighed.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, after a moment.
“I was thinking of my father.”
“Ah…” He was silent a long while, then, “Come. Let’s go back up.”
Anna turned and followed, half-crouched as she walked along the tiny tunnel, then straightening to climb the twisting flight of steps that had been cut from the rock. Aitrus had worked weeks on this. And all for that one small instant of magic.
A tiny shiver passed through her. She watched him climb the steps ahead of her, noticing how neatly his hair was clipped at his neck, how strong his back and arms were, how broad his shoulders, and realized just how familiar he had become these last few years.
As familiar almost as this Age they had slowly built together.
Stepping out into the sunlight beside Aitrus, Anna smiled. It was so green. All she could see was green. Forest and grasslands, wood and plain. Why, even the slow, meandering rivers were green with trailing weed.
Only the sky was blue. A deep, water-heavy blue. In the distance a great raft of huge white clouds drifted slowly from right to left, their movement almost imperceptible, casting deep shadows on the hills and valleys below.
It had all seemed strange at first, after the desert landscape she had known all her life. So strange, that she had spent hours simply staring at the clouds, fascinated by them.
She looked to Aitrus. He was wearing his D’ni glasses now, to protect his eyes against the glare of the sun. They all wore them when not in D’ni. Only she did not have to.
“We should go north next,” she said. “To the mountains. I could map that area beyond the lake.”
Aitrus smiled. “Perhaps. Or maybe that long valley to the northeast of here.”
She looked down, smiling, knowing exactly why he was interested in that area. They had passed through it several weeks ago on their way back from the peninsula and had noticed signs of long-dormant volcanic activity. She had seen the tiny gleam of interest in his eyes.
“If you want.”
They walked on, talking as they went, continuing the discussion they had begun earlier that day. Wherever they went, they talked, making observations on the physical signs of this world, and debating which small changes to the words and phrasing might have caused this effect or that.
Sometimes Aitrus would stop, crouch down with the notepad balanced on his knee, and would write down something he or she had said, wanting to capture it, ready to enter it in the book of commentary they had begun six months back. Already they had filled half the great ledger with their observations, and each day they added to it, with words and maps and drawings.
A long slope of the falls was ever-present, a counterpoint to the exotic, echoing cries of birds from the wood that climbed the steep slope behind them. To the north were mountains, to the south the great ocean.
It was a beautiful place.
Aitrus’s tent was to the left of the camp, its long frame of green canvas blending with the background. A smaller, circular tent, its canvas a vivid yellow, stood just beside and was used for stores. Until a week ago there had been a third tent, the twin of Aitrus’s, but now that the cabin was habitable, Anna had moved in. It was not finished yet—Aitrus had yet to cut and fit the wooden floor—but the roof was on and it was dry. Beside Anna’s section, which was screened off, Aitrus had set up a temporary lab, which they planned to use until they had built a proper, permanent laboratory a little way farther up the slope.
They walked across. A trestle table stood just outside Aitrus’s tent, in the shadow of the canvas awning. On top of it, its corners held down by tiny copper weights, was the map Anna had been working on earlier, a clear thin cover of D’ni polymer laid over it in case of rain.
The map was remarkably detailed, a color key on the right-hand side of the sheet making sense of the intricate pattern of colors on the map itself. Areas of the sheet were blank, where they had not yet surveyed the land, but where they had, Anna had provided a vivid guide to it—one that not only made sense of its essential topography but also gave a clue to the types of soil and thus vegetation that overlay the deeper rock formations. It was all, she said, using one of her father’s favorite terms, “a question of edaphology.”
Maybe it was because she was from the surface, but her grasp of how the kind of rock affected the visible features of the land was far more refined than his almost instinctive. Often she did not have to analyze a rock sample but knew it by its feel, its color and its texture. His instinct was for the pressures and stresses within the rock that provided what one saw with its underlying structure.
At first it had astonished Aitrus that she had known so much of rocks and minerals and the complex art of mapping the rock, and even when he learned more of her father and how she had helped him, he was still amazed that she had grasped quite so much in so brief a time. Yet as the weeks went on, his surprise had turned to delight, knowing that here at last was someone with whom he might share his lifelong fascination with the rock.
It was not long before he had begun to teach her the D’ni names for the different types of rock and the terms his people used to describe the various geological processes. Anna learned easily and was soon fluent enough to hold those conversations which, through to today, had never ceased between them. After a while Aitrus had begun to push her, testing her, as if to find the limits of her intelligence, but it seemed there were no bounds to what she was capable of.
Right now, however, the two of them stood beside the trestle table. Aitrus studied the half-completed map a moment then tapped an area in the top left corner with his forefinger.
“We could start here, Ah-na, where the river bends and drops. It would give us the opportunity to map all of this area to the west of the river. That would take, what? Two days?”
Anna studied the blank area on her map and nodded. “Two. Three at most.”
“Three it is. We could take the tent and camp there. Then we could spend a day or two exploring the valley. There are cave systems there. Did you see them?”
Anna smiled. “I saw.”
“Good. And once we’ve finished there, we could come back here and spend a couple of days writing things up.”
“Can the guild spare you that long?”
“If they need me urgently, they’ll send someone. But I doubt it. Things are slow at present, and until the Guild of Miners present their report on the new excavation, that is how it will remain. We might as well use the time fruitfully.”
“Aitrus?”
“Yes?”
“Can we set out a little later tomorrow? In the afternoon, perhaps?”
“You want to see the well again?”
Anna nodded.
“All right. I guess it will take most of the morning to pack what we need, anyway.”
She smiled. That was so like Aitrus. Rather than admit to indulging her, he would always find some excuse to let her have her way.
“And Aitrus?”
He turned, clearly distracted. “Yes?”
“Oh, nothing…Nothing important, anyway.”
§
That evening it rained; a warm, heavy rain that thundered on the roof of the cabin and filled the valley like a huge, shimmering mist of silver.
Anna stepped out into the downpour, raising her arms, her head back, savoring the feel of the rain against her skin.
Just across from her, Aitrus peeked out from his tent and, seeing what she was doing, called out to her.
“Ah-na! What are you doing? You’ll be soaked to the skin!”
Laughing, she turned to face him, then, on whim, began to dance, whirling around and around, her bare feet flying across the wet grass.
“Ah-na!”
She stopped, facing him, then put a hand out.
“Come, Aitrus! Join me!”
Aitrus hesitated, then, reluctantly, yet smiling all the same, he stepped out. Almost instantly he was soaked, his hair plastered to his head.
He took her hand.
“Come!” she said, her eyes shining brightly, excitedly, “let’s dance!” And without warning, she began to whirl him around and around beneath the open sky, the light from the hanging lanterns in front of the cabin turning the fall of rain into a cascade of silver.
Exhilarated, Aitrus whooped loudly, then stopped dead. He was laughing, his whole face alive as she had never seen it before.
“Isn’t it wonderful? ” she asked, almost shouting against the noise of the downpour.
“Marvelous!” he shouted back, then, unexpectedly, he grabbed her close and whirled around and around again, until, giddy, from their circling, he stopped, swaying and coughing and laughing.
Anna, too, was laughing. She put her head back, drinking in the pure, clean water from the sky. Rain! The wonder of rain!
§
Anna stood behind the wooden partition, toweling her hair. Outside, the rain still fell, but now it could be heard only as a gentle, murmuring patter against the roof. Soon the storm would pass.
She had changed into a dry, woolen dress of cyan blue, her favorite color, fastened at the waist with a simple cord.
Folding the towel, she dropped it onto the end of her pallet bed then turned full circle, looking about her. There were books wherever she looked, on shelves and surfaces, and, on the narrow wooden table in the corner, scientific equipment, the polished brasswork gleaming in the lamplight.
Anna sighed, feeling a real contentment. For the first time in a long, long while, she was happy.
To be honest, she had never worked so hard, nor felt so good. Before Aitrus had asked her to work with him on the creation of this Age, she had felt useless, but now…
Now she had a problem.
Anna sat on the edge of her low bed, staring at the bare earth floor. Perhaps it was the dance. Perhaps it was that glimpse of Aitrus, happy just as she was happy. Was that an illusion? Was it a transient thing? Or could it last?
And besides…
There was a knock on the door of the cabin. Anna looked up, startled. It was Aitrus’s habit to spend an hour at this time writing up his journal for the day.
“Come in.”
Aitrus stepped inside, his right hand drawing his dark hair back from his brow.
“I wondered if you were all right.”
She smiled up at him. “I’m fine. It was only rain.”
Aitrus stood there a moment, hesitant, not sure just what to say, then: “Would you like a game of Gemedet? ”
“All right.”
He grinned, then nodded and turned away, returning to the tent to bring the grid. Smiling, Anna stood, then went across to clear a space on the table.
Gemedet , or six-in-a-line, was the most popular of D’ni games. She had seen a close variant of the game in Tadjinar, played by the Chinese merchants, but the D’ni version was played not on a two-dimensional board but on a complex three-dimensional grid, nine squares to a side.
It was, she thought, the perfect game for a race embedded in the rock, whose thinking was not lateral but spatial.
Aitrus returned a moment later, setting the grid down on the table. It was a beautiful thing, of hand-carved lilac jade, as delicate-looking as a honeycomb yet strong. Strong enough to have survived a thousand games without a single chip or blemish.
The base of the grid was a polished hemisphere of topaz on which the grid revolved smoothly. Long, silver tweezers, called re’dantee , were used to slip the playing pieces into place, while the pieces themselves were simple polished ovoids of green tourmaline and dark red almandine.
Both the re’dantee and the “stones” were kept in a velvet-lined box, which Aitrus now opened, placing it on the table beside the grid, so that both of them could easily reach it.
Anna smiled. She had fallen in love with the set at first sight.
They sat, facing each other across the table. As ever, Anna went first, slipping her first “stone” into place, deep in the heart of the grid, giving herself the maximum of options.
For an hour or more they played, in total silence, each concentrating on the pattern of the stones. After a while the patter of rain on the roof stopped. Night birds called in the darkness of the woods outside. Inside the game went on beneath the lantern’s light.
Finally, she saw that she had lost. Aitrus had only to place a single stone in the bottom left-hand corner and there was no way she could stop him making six.
Anna looked up and saw, by his smile, that he knew.
“Another game?”
She shook her head. Was now the time to speak? To tell him what she had been thinking earlier?
“What is it?” he asked gently.
Anna looked down. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
“Are you sure?”
She gave a single nod. It had been a good day—an almost perfect day—why spoil it?
“Shall I pack the game away?” he asked, after a moment.
“No,” she said, looking up at him and smiling; content now that she had decided. “I’ll do that in the morning. Besides, I want to see how you managed to beat me.”
Aitrus grinned. “Experience, that’s all.”
At that moment, there did not seem to be so many years’ difference in their ages. In human terms, Aitrus was old—as old, almost, as her father—but in D’ni terms he was still a very young man. Why, it was quite likely that he would live another two centuries and more. But was that also why she was afraid to speak of what she felt?
“I’ll leave you, then,” he said, standing, the lamplight glinting in his fine, dark hair. “Good night. Sleep well, Ah-na.”
“And you,” she said, standing.
He smiled. And then he left, leaving her staring at the door, the words she wanted so much to say unsaid, while outside the night birds called, their cries echoing across the darkness of the valley.
§
The valley was a deep gash in the surrounding land, cut not by a river but by older, far more violent processes. Bare rock jutted from the slopes on either side, the folded pattern of its strata long exposed to the elements so that the softer rocks had been heavily eroded, leaving great shelves of harder rock. At one end of the valley, in the shadow of a particularly long shelf, were the caves. It was there that they began their survey.
Anna knew what Aitrus was looking for, and it was not long before he found it.
“Ah-na! Come here! Look!”
She went across to where Aitrus was crouched in the deep shadow of the overhang and looked.
“Well?” he said, looking up at her triumphantly.
It was old and worn, but there was no doubting what it was. It was the puckered mouth of a diatreme—a volcanic vent—formed long ago by high pressure gases drilling their way through the crustal rocks.
For the past two days they had kept coming upon signs that there was a volcano somewhere close by. Volcanic deposits had been scattered all about this area, but this was the first vent they had found.
From the look of it the volcano was an old one, dormant for many centuries.
“I thought we’d made a stable world.”
He smiled. “We did. But even stable worlds must be formed. Volcanoes are part of the growing process of an Age. Even the best of worlds must have them!”
“So where is it?” she asked.
He stood, then turned, pointing straight through the rock toward the north.
“There, I’d guess.”
“Do you want to go and look for it?”
Aitrus shrugged, then, “If you wouldn’t mind.”
Anna laughed. “Why should I? It’s a volcano. Our volcano. Our first!”
He grinned, as if he had not thought of that, then nodded. “Come then. If I’m right, it can’t be far.”
§
The caldera was still visible, but time and weather had worn it down. Trees covered its shallow slopes and filled the great bowl of the volcano, but here and there the thin covering of soil gave way to fissures and vents whose darkness hinted at great depths.
It was old. Far older than they had first thought. Not thousands, but millions of years old.
It was this part that Anna had taken a little while to grasp. The Ages to which they linked were not made by them, they already existed, for the making of worlds was a process that took not months but long millennia. Aitrus, trying to make things absolutely clear to her, and summed it up thus:
“These Ages are worlds that do exist, or have existed, or shall. Providing the descriptions fits, there is no limitation of time or space. The link is made regardless.”
And so, too, this world of theirs, their Age, which they had called Gemedet, after the game. It, too, existed, or had existed, or would. But where it was or when they did not know.
Not that it mattered most of the time, but on occasion she did wonder just where they were in the night sky, and when—whether at the beginning of the universe or somewhere near the end of that vast process.
The very thought of it humbled her, made her understand why her father had believed in a Maker who had fashioned it all. Having “written,” having seen the great skill and subtlety involved merely in creating a link to these worlds, she now found herself in awe of the infinite care that had gone into the making of the originals to which their templates linked.
Personally, she could not believe that blind process had made it all. It was, for her, quite inconceivable, bearing in mind the complexity and variety of life. Yet in this, if nothing else, Aitrus differed from her. His was, or so he claimed, a more rational approach, more scientific —as if understanding the product of such processes were a key to understanding the why of them existing in the first place.
Aitrus had walked down the tree-strewn slope, making his way between the boulders, until he stood beside one of the larger vents. Resting his chest against the sloping wall of the vent, he leaned out, peering into the darkness. For a moment he was perfectly still, then he turned his head, looking back at her through his D’ni glasses.
“Shall we go in?”
Anna smiled. “All right, but we’ll need to bring a rope from the camp.”
Aitrus grinned. “And lamps, and…”
“…your notebook.”
A look of perfect understanding passed between them. It was time to explore the volcano.
§
They got back to the encampment three days later than they had planned, to find that a message had been delivered from D’ni. It lay upon the map table in its dark blue waterproof wrapping.
While Anna began to stow away their equipment, Aitrus broke the seal of the package and took out the letter. He knew it was not urgent—they would have sent a Messenger into the Age to find him if it was—but it was unusual. Unfolding the letter, he squinted at it through the lenses of his glasses. It was from his old friend Kedri, and concerned a query Aitrus had put to him the last time they had met for supper.
He read it through quickly, then, smiling, he slipped the paper into his tunic pocket.
“Well?” Anna asked, coming alongside him. “Anything important?”
“No, but I need to go back.”
“Should we pack?”
He shook his head. “No. I only need to be away an hour or two. I’ll go later tonight. You can stay here. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
Anna smiled. “You should have a bath when you get back to D’ni.”
“A bath?” He looked mock-offended. “Are you saying I smell, Ti’ana?”
“You positively reek of sulphur!” she said, grinning now. “Like Old Beelzebub himself!”
He smiled at that. In the caves beneath the caldera, she had taught him much about the mythology and gods of the surface, including the demons whom, according to many religions, lived in the regions beneath the earth.
“If only they knew the reality of it,” she had said. “They’d be amazed.”
It was then that he had given her her new name— Ti’ana , which in D’ni meant “story-teller,” as well as punning on her surface name. “Do you need me to cook you something before you go?”
“I’d rather you helped me sort those samples.”
“All right,” she said, her smile broadening. “I’ll do the tests, you can write up the notes.”
§
Aitrus looked about him at the tent. All was neat and orderly. His notebook was open on the small table by his bed, the ink of the latest entry not yet dry. It was time to link back.
Anna was in her cabin. He would say goodnight to her, then go.
Aitrus went outside and stepped across to the cabin, knocking softly on the door. Usually she would call out to him, but this time there was nothing. Pushing the door open a little, he saw that she was not at her desk.
“Ti’ana?” he called softly. “Are you there?”
As if in answer he heard her soft snoring from behind the thin, wooden partition. Slipping inside, he tiptoed across and, drawing back the curtain, peered in.
Anna lay on her side on the pallet, facing him, her eyes closed, her features peaceful in sleep. The long journey back from the valley had clearly exhausted her. He crouched, watching her, drinking in the sight of her. She was so different from the women he had known all his life—those strong yet frail D’ni women with their pale skin and long faces.
It had been more than two months ago, when they had made their first, and as yet only, journey to the mountains north of the camp. On the way Anna had collected samples of various native flowers for later study. Yet, coming upon the wonder of a snow-covered slope—the first she had ever seen or touched or walked upon—she had taken the blooms from her pocket and scattered their petals over the snow. He had asked her what she was doing, and she had shrugged.
“I had to,” she had said, staring at him. Then, pointing to the scattered petals, she had bid him look.
Aitrus closed his eyes, seeing them vividly, their bright shapes and colors starkly contrasted against the purity of the whiteness—like life and death.
It was then that he had decided, and every moment since had been but a confirmation of that decision—an affirmation of the feeling he had had at that moment, when, looking up from the petals, he had seen her face shining down at him like the sun itself.
Aitrus opened his eyes and saw that same face occluded now in sleep, like the sun behind clouds, yet beautiful still. The most beautiful he had ever seen. At first he had not thought so, but time had trained his eyes to see her differently. He knew her now.
Aitrus stretched out his hand, tracing the contours of that sleeping face in the air above it, a feeling of such tenderness pervading him that he found his hand trembling. He drew it back, surprised by the strength of what he felt at that moment. Overwhelming, it was, like the rush of water over a fall.
He nodded to himself, then stood. It was time to go back to D’ni. Time to face his father, Kahlis.
§
“I cannot say that I have not half-expected this,” Kahlis was saying, “but I had hoped that you would, perhaps, have seen sense in time.”
“I am sorry that you feel so, Father.”
“Even if it is as you say, Aitrus, have you thought this through properly? Have you thought out the full implications of such a union? She is an outsider. A surface-dweller. And you, Aitrus, are D’ni—a Guild Master and a member of the Council. Such a marriage is unheard of.”
“Maybe so. Yet there is no legal impediment to it.” Aitrus took the letter from his tunic pocket and placed it on the desk before his father. “I asked Master Kedri to look into the matter, and that is his expert opinion.”
Kahlis took the sheet of paper and unfolded it. For a moment he was silent, reading it, then he looked up, his eyes narrowed.
“And the age difference, Aitrus? Have you considered that? Right now you are the elder, but it will not always be so. Your life span is thrice hers. When you are still in your prime she will be an old woman. Have you thought of that?”
“I have,” he answered. “Yet not to have her—to have never had her by my side—that would be death indeed.”
“And what if I said I was against the marriage?”
Aitrus merely stared at him.
Kahlis stood, then came around his desk.
“You will not accept my advice. But I shall give you my blessing. That, I hope, you will accept.”
“Gladly!” Aitrus said, then, reaching out, he took his father’s hands in the D’ni way. “You will be proud of her, Father, I promise you!”
§
Aitrus linked back into the cave above the encampment. Stepping out, he saw that nothing had changed. In the moonlight the camp looked peaceful, the tents to the left, the cabin to the right. Beyond and to the right the waterfall was like a sheet of silver, its constant noise lulling him.
Walking down between the trees he found that he was whistling softly, an old D’ni song his mother had once sung to him. He stopped, his eyes going to the cabin. There she slept. Ti’ana. His love.
“It cannot be wrong,” he said quietly.
Aitrus felt a light touch on his shoulder and started. Turning, he found Anna standing there behind him. She was smiling, as if pleased by her little trick.
“What cannot be wrong?”
He swallowed. Now that the moment had come, he was afraid of it. Yet that fear was natural, it was there to be overcome.
“You and I,” he answered, taking her hands.
Her eyes went down to where their hands met, then looked up to meet his own again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I wish to marry you.”
Her eyes slowly widened. She stared at him silently, as if in wonder.
“Well?” he asked, when the waiting grew too much. “ Will you marry me, Ti’ana?”
“I will,” she said, her voice so soft, so quiet, that he felt at first he had imagined it.
“You will?”
Anna nodded, the faintest trace of a smile coming to her lips.
“You will! ” He whooped, then drew her close and, for the first time, embraced her. Her face was suddenly close to his, less than a hand’s width away. The sight of it sobered him.
“I will be a good husband to you, Ti’ana, I promise. But you must promise me something.”
“Promise what?”
“That you will be my partner in all things. My helpmate and companion, by my side always, in whatever I do.”
Slowly the smile returned to her face. Then, leaning toward him, she gently kissed him. “I promise.”
§
Veovis stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed an inkwell from the desk beside him and hurled it across the room, shattering it into tiny fragments.
“Never!” he said, glaring across the empty room. “Not while there’s breath left in my body!”
His father, Rakeri, had broken the news to him an hour back. Aitrus was to be betrothed. At first, if anything, he had been indifferent to the news. He had not even heard that Aitrus was seeing anyone. Then, abruptly, he had understood. The girl! The surface-dweller!
Veovis stomped across the room and threw himself down into his chair, gnawing on a thumbnail.
“Never!” he said again, the word hissing from him with a real venom.
His father had explained how the Five had been approached, the documents of precedent laid before them. Again that was Kedri’s fault, the traitor! Aitrus need only go before the full Council now to receive their blessing, and that was a formality.
Or had been, in the past.
Veovis took a long, calming breath, then turned his head, staring at the shattered fragments of glass as if he did not recognize the cause, then shuddered.
Never.
§
Aitrus stood before the Five, at the center of the great chamber. All were present. Lord R’hira had read out the formal request; now, all that remained was for the Council to ratify the document.
R’hira stared at Aitrus a moment, then looked beyond him, his eyes raking the levels of the chamber.
“All those in favor?”
There was a chorus of “Ayes,” some reluctant, others enthusiastic. For six thousand years the question had been asked and answered thus.
Lord R’hira smiled.
“And those against?” he asked, the question a formality.
“Nay.”
R’hira had already turned the paper facedown. He had been about to congratulate young Aitrus. But the single voice brought him up sharp. He stared at Veovis, where he sat not two spans behind where Aitrus was standing.
“I beg pardon, Guild Master Veovis?”
Veovis stood. “I say ‘Nay.’ ”
R’hira’s wizened face blinked. All five Lords were leaning forward now, staring at Veovis. This was unheard of.
“Could I possibly have your reasons, Master Veovis?”
Veovis’s face was a mask, expressionless. “I need give no reason. I am simply against.” And he sat, as if that was that.
As indeed it was. The verdict of Council had to be unanimous in this matter. R’hira looked to Aitrus. The young man had his head down, his own expression unreadable; yet there was a tension to his figure that had not been there before.
“Master Aitrus…” he began, embarrassed. “It would seem…”
Aitrus looked up, his pale eyes hard like slate. “I understand, Lord R’hira. The Council has turned down my request.”
R’hira, marking the immense dignity with which Aitrus bore this disappointment, gave a reluctant nod. “So it is.”
“Then I will trouble you no more, my Lords.”
Aitrus bowed to each of the Five in turn, then, turning on his heel, walked from the chamber, his head held high, not even glancing at Veovis as he passed.
§
“Aitrus! Come now, open the door!”
Tasera stood before the door to her son’s room, her husband just behind her in the shadows of the corridor.
When there was no answer, Tasera turned and looked to her husband. “Why did you not say something in Council, Kahlis?”
“I did,” Kahlis said quietly, “but it made no difference.”
“And is that it , then?” she asked, incredulous. “One man says nay and nay it is?”
There was the grating metallic noise of the latch being drawn back, and then the door eased open an inch.
“Forgive me, Mother,” Aitrus said from within the darkness of the room. “I was asleep.”
“I heard what happened in Council,” she said. “We need to discuss what should be done.”
“There’s nothing can be done,” he said. “The Council has given their answer.”
No word, then, of Veovis. No individual blame. As if this were the genuine will of Council.
“Nonsense!” she said, angry now. Pushing past him, she went over to the table and lit the lamp. Tasera turned, looking at him in the half light. Aitrus’s face seemed gaunt, as if he had been ill, but he was still, beneath it all, the same strong man she had bred.
“I know you, Aitrus. You are a fighter. I also know how much Ti’ana means to you. Now, will you bow before this decision, or will you fight?”
“Fight? How can I fight? And what can I fight with? Can I force Veovis to change his mind? No. Neither he nor the Council would allow it! And as for persuasion…”
“Then beg.”
“Beg?”
“If Ti’ana means that much to you, go to Lord Veovis and beg him to change his mind and grant you what you want. Go down on your knees before him if you must, but do not simply accept this.”
“On my knees?” Aitrus stared at his mother, incredulous.
“Yes,” she said, standing face-to-face with him. “What matters more to you, Aitrus? Your pride or your future happiness?”
“You want me to beg?”
Tasera shook her head. “You said yourself: He will not be forced or persuaded. What other course is open to you?”
“Aitrus is right.”
Both turned. Anna was standing in the doorway.
“Ti’ana, I…” Aitrus began, but she raised a hand to big him be silent. “I know what happened. Your father just told me.”
“Then you must agree,” Tasera said, appealing to her. “Aitrus must go to Veovis.”
“Maybe,” Anna said, nodding to her. Then she turned slightly, looking to Aitrus lovingly. “You know how proud I would be to be your wife, Aitrus. Prouder than any woman in the whole of D’ni. Yet I would not have you go down on your knees before that man, even if it meant we must spend our lives apart. It would be a violation, and I could not bear it. But there is, perhaps, another way…”
Aitrus raised his eyes and looked at Anna. For a long time he simply studied her, and then he nodded. “So be it, then,” he said, “I will go to him. But I do not hold much hope.”
§
Veovis agreed to meet with Aitrus in his father’s study, Lord Rakeri a silent presence in his chair, there to ensure that things were kept within due bounds.
“So what is it that you want, Guildsman?” Veovis said, standing six paces from where Aitrus stood facing him, his hands clasped behind his back.
Aitrus met Veovis’s masklike stare with his own. “I seek an explanation for your vote this morning.”
“And I decline to give it.”
“You do not like her, do you?”
Veovis shrugged. “As I said…”
“…you decline to give your reasons.”
Veovis nodded.
“You recall our meeting in the shaft all those years ago?”
“What of it?”
“You recall what happened…afterward? How I helped save your life?”
Veovis blinked. He took a long breath, then: “I was very grateful for your actions. But what of it? What bearing has it on this matter?”
“You made me a promise. Remember? You said then that if there was anything I wanted— anything —that was in your power to grant, then I should come to you and you would grant it.”
Veovis stood there like a statue, his eyes like flints, staring back at Aitrus.
“ Do you remember?”
“I remember.”
“Then I ask you to keep your word, Lord Veovis, and give me your permission, before the full Council, to marry Ti’ana.”
Veovis was silent for a long time. Finally he turned, looking to his father. Rakeri stared back at his son a moment, his eyes filled with a heavy sadness, then gave a single nod.
Veovis turned back. “I am a man of my word, and so your wish is granted, Aitrus, son of Kahlis, but from this day forth I wish neither to speak with you nor hear from you again. Whatever once existed between us is now at an end. All promises are met. You understand?”
Aitrus stared back at him, his face expressionless. “I understand. And thank you.”
“You thank me?” Veovis laughed bitterly. “Just go, for I am sick of the sight of you.”