“Ah, so it does rankle.”
He stood up. She resented his speaking to her. It had been on the edge of every word. It was in his mind to walk out, but that would let her forget everything he had said. Necessity overcame his pride. “Djan. I have nothing against you. In spite of—because of—what we did one night, I have a certain regard for you. I had some hope you might at least listen to me, for the sake of all concerned.”
“I will look into it,” she said. “I will do what I can.” And when he turned to go: “I hear little from you. Are you happy in Elas?”
He looked back, surprised by the gentleness of her asking. “I am happy,” he said.
She smiled. “In some measure I do envy you.”
“The same choices are open to you.”
“No,” she said. “Not by nemet law. Think of me and think of your little Mim, and you will know what I mean. I am Methi. I do as I please. Otherwise this world would put bonds on me that I couldn’t live with. It would make your life miserable if you had to accept such terms as this world would offer me. I refuse.”
“I understand,” he said. “I wish you well, Djan.”
She let the smile grow sad, and stared out at the lights of Nephane a moment, ignoring him.
“I am fond of few people,” she said. “In your peculiar way you have gotten into my affections,—more than Shan, more than most who have their reason for using me. Get out of here, back to Elas, discreetly. Go on.”
9
The wedding Mim chose was a small and private one. The guests and witnesses were scarcely more numerous than what the law required. Of Osanef, there was Han t’Osanef u Mur, his wife Ia t’Nefak, and Bel. Of the house of Ilev there was Ulmar t’Ilev ul Imetan and his wife Tian t’Elas e Ben, cousin to Nym, and their son Cam and their new daughter-in-law, Yanu t’Pas. They were all people Mim knew well, and Osanef and Ilev, Kurt suspected, were among a very few nemet houses that could be found reconciled to the marriage on religious grounds.
If even these had scruples about the question, they had the grace still to smile and to love Mim and to treat her chosen husband with great courtesy.
The ceremony was in the rhmei,where Kurt first knelt before old Hef and swore that the first two sons of the union, if any, would be given the name h’Elas as chanito the house, so that Hef’s line could continue.
And Kta swore also to the custom of iquun,by which Kta would see to the begetting of the promised heirs, if necessary.
Then Nym rose and with palms toward the light of the phusmehainvoked the guardian spirits of the Ancestors of Elas. The sun outside was only beginning to set. It was impossible to conduct a marriage-rite after Phan had left the land.
“Mim,” said Nym, taking her hand, “called Mim-lechan h’Elas e Hef, you are chanto this house no longer, but become as a daughter of this house, well-beloved, Mim h’Elas e Hef. Are you willing to yield your first two sons to Hef, your foster-father?”
“Yes, my lord of Elas.”
“Are you consenting to all the terms of the marriage contract?”
“Yes, my lord of Elas.”
“Are you willing now, daughter to Elas, to bind yourself by these final and irrevocable vows?”
“Yes, my lord of Elas.”
“And you, Kurt Liam t’Morgan u Patrick Edward, are you willing to bind yourself by these final and irrevocable vows, to take this free woman Mim h’Elas e Hef for your true and first wife, loving her before all others, commiting your honor into her hands and your strength and fortune to her protection?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Hef h’Elas,” said Nym, “the blessing of this house and its Guardians upon this union.”
The old man came forward, and it was Hef who completed the ceremony, giving Mim’s hand into Kurt’s and naming for each the final vows they made. Then, according to custom, Ptas lit a torch from the great phusmehaand gave it into Kurt’s hands, and he into Mim’s.
“In purity I have given,” Kurt recited the ancient formula in High Nechai, “in reverence preserve, Mim h’Elas e Hef shu-Kurt, well-beloved, my wife.”
“In purity I have received,” she said softly, “in reverence I will keep myself to thee to the death, Kurt Liam t’Morgan u Patrick Edward, my lord, my husband.”
And with Mim beside him, and to the ritual weeping of the ladies and the congratulations of the men, Kurt left the rhmei.Mim carried the light, walking behind him up the stairs to the door of his room that now was hers.
He entered, and watched as she used the torch to light the triangular bronze lamp, the phusa,which had been replaced in its niche, and he heard her sigh softly with relief, for the omen would have been terrible if the light had not taken. The lamp of Phan burned with steady light, and she then extinguished the torch with a prayer and knelt down before the lamp as Kurt closed the door, knelt down and lifted her hands before it.
“My Ancestors, I, Mim t’Nethim e Sel shu-Kurt, called by these my beloved friends Mim h’Elas, I, Mim, beg your forgiveness for marrying under a name not my own, and swear now by my own name to honor the vows I made under another. My Ancestors, behold this man, my husband Kurt t’Morgan, and whatever distant spirits are his, be at peace with them for my sake. Peace, I pray my Fathers, and let peace be with Elas on both sides of the Dividing Sea. Ei,let thoughts of war be put aside between our two lands. May love be in this house and upon us both forever. May the terrible Guardians of Nethim hear me and receive the vow I make. And may the great Guardians of Elas receive me kindly as you have ever done, for we are of this house now, and within your keeping.”
She lowered her hands, finishing her prayer, and offered her right hand to Kurt, who drew her up.
“Mim t’Nethim,” he said. “Then I had never heard your real name.”
Her large eyes lifted to him. “Nethim has no house in Nephane, but in Indresul we are ancestral enemies to Elas. I have not burdened Kta with knowing my true name. He asked me, and I would not answer, so surely he suspects that I am of a hostile house; but if there is any harm in my silence, it is upon me only. And I have spoken your name before the Guardians of Nethim many times, and I have not felt that they are distressed at you, my lord Kurt.”
He had started to take her in his arms, but hesitated now, held his hands a little apart from her, suddenly fearing Mim and her strangeness. Her gown was beautiful and had cost days of work which he had watched; he did not know how to undo it, or if this was expected of him. And Mim herself was as complex and unknowable, wrapped in customs for which Kta’s instructions had not prepared him.
He remembered the frightened child that Kta had found among the Tamurlin, and feared that she would suddenly see him as human and loathe him, without the robes and the graces that made him—outwardly—nemet.
“Mim,” he said. “I would never see any harm come to you.”
“It is a strange thing to say, my lord.”
“I am afraid for you,” he said suddenly. “Mim, I do love you.”
She smiled a little, then laughed, down-glancing. He treasured the gentle laugh: it was Mim at her prettiest. And she slipped her hands about his waist and hugged him tightly, her strong slim arms dispelling the fear that she would break.
“Kurt,” she said, “Kta is a dear man, most honored of me. I know that you and he have spoken of me. Is this not so?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Kta has spoken to me too: he fears for me. I honor his concern. It is for both of us. But I trust your heart where I do not know your ways; I know if ever you hurt me, it would be much against your will.” She slipped her warm hands to him. “Let us have tea, my husband, a first warming of our hearth.”