"Mother Sakhalin," said Tess, "your presence honors me. Anatoly, I am pleased to see you as well."
Mother Sakhalin looked tired. Her grandson looked nothing like the expressive young man of almost two years ago who had won by his own exploits the right to command a jahar. He looked a little unkempt. He had let his hair grow, tied off in three braids, and his eyes had a hard, cold gleam to them now, echoed by the set of his mouth. There were stories-that he had covered himself in so much glory in the past year, fighting in the worst skirmishes and the fiercest battles, throwing himself always to the front of the engagement, that one could scarcely recount all of the tales in one evening. His jahar took the worst casualties, and every man who fought beside him had either been killed or badly wounded, and yet Anatoly came through every engagement without a scratch. And then, ten days ago, like a horse bolted for home, he had turned up at his grandmother's camp.
Now he regarded Tess Soerensen, his expression so masked that Sonia could not read his feelings. "I want to go to Erthe," he said without preamble.
Shocked, Sonia looked at Mother Sakhalin, and what she saw there dismayed her further. Mother Sakhalin looked not just tired but frail and old. A month ago she had not looked like this.
"But that's impossible, Anatoly," exclaimed Tess.
"It can't be impossible," said Anatoly stubbornly, "if others have gone before me."
"It is impossible," said Tess so coldly that Anatoly shrank back from her and, abruptly, hung his head to hide his face. "She is gone. She left you by her own choice."
"Only because I would not go with her," he said to the carpet. His hands lay perfectly still on his lap, except for his right forefinger, which twitched as he spoke.
"Tess," said Ilya in his most reasonable voice, "perhaps this is not your decision to make." Tess shot him a look filled with venom. He smiled, unruffled by her anger. "I suggest you allow Anatoly to address a letter to Diana, to ask her."
"That could take months!" Tess objected. "A year! More!"
"If Anatoly is willing to wait," said Ilya, "then I see no reason a letter should not be sent."
Anatoly's head jerked up. A light sparked in him, and Sonia realized that the coldness stemmed not from lack pf feeling but from too much feeling. She had thought it the mark of a new-found cruelty. Now she thought he was just in pain. "I am willing," he said hoarsely, and Mother Sakhalin aged ten years in that moment.
Tess stewed. "Very well," she said finally. "You may tell me what words you wish to write to Diana, Anatoly. I will write them myself and I will send the letter. But if she says she does not want you, then you must agree to consider yourself a widower and abide by my wishes."
"Very well," he echoed meekly. He paused. "What are your wishes?"
She contemplated him a moment, and Sonia could see that Tess found this changed Anatoly a bit puzzling, as if he was both more, and less, than she expected. "I wish you to marry a Jedan noblewoman and together with her act as regents in Jeds under our suzerainty."
At these words, Mother Sakhalin rallied. "It would be a good marriage, Anatoly," she said firmly. "And a proper position for you. And for the tribe."
The light still burned in Anatoly's face, but it was as if it had been shuttered by glass now. "It would be a good marriage," he agreed in a soft voice. "And one due my position. But how can I know what to think of Jeds if I have never been there? Perhaps I would rather ride with the army instead."
Well! Anatoly had certainly learned something from his grandmother. He had learned how to negotiate. In time, Sonia thought, he might surpass even Yaroslav Sakhalin as a general.
Tess considered. Ilya settled his chin on a fist and watched her, a trifle bemused by a negotiation going on in which he had no real say.
"So be it, then," said Tess finally. "I will send you to Niko in Jeds. You can carry the letter that far and give it to Dr. Hierakis, who will see that it is put on a ship to Erthe. You already speak some Rhuian. Now you can see how the khaja rule there, and you can learn how to live among them and guard our interests."
Anatoly inclined his head obediently. "As you command."
Mother Sakhalin did not look happy, but she looked satisfied.
"Come back this evening," said Tess to the young man, "and I will write the letter for you."
He nodded, and he and his grandmother took their leave.
"You terrify me, my wife," said Ilya. "I am relieved that you are my ally and not my enemy."
Tess still looked angry, but she laughed curtly. "How like Charles I am," she murmured, "to push him toward an end which I have already devised."
"Anatoly is no fool," said Sonia. "He will do what is best for the Sakhalin tribe."
"No doubt," said Ilya dryly, "he will do what his grandmother wishes. But what will you do, Tess, if Diana asks him to come to her?"
But already Tess's anger had subsided into an odd ruefulness. "She won't," said Tess with such certainty that even Sonia was taken aback. Ah, well. Tess's heart might belong to the jaran, but her soul would always remain khaja.
Sonia rose and shook out her skirts. "Come, Tess. If you can manage to leave your husband for a moment, I thought we might just walk through camp for a little while, so you can see everyone again. They all want to greet you."
"I will languish here until your return," said Ilya with a smile. He looked more at ease than he had for-well, for years, really-but there was still an edge on him beyond the pure, stark vision that drove him on.
"I brought him six books," said Tess to Sonia as they walked away.
"Six!" But Tess was prince now. No wonder she possessed such riches.
"And four books for you. And three colloquies for the children."
This bounty struck Sonia to silence. They walked together through the sprawl of the camp, greeting children, women, and men, all the members of the Orzhekov camp.
"Aleksi says that a zayinu holy woman came from across the seas to Jeds," said Sonia at last. "That she wears heavy veils, since it is a grave offense to her gods if folk like us look upon her. Is that true? Why would a zayinu holy woman come to you, Tess? Especially if your brother wars against her kind?"
"Her own people sent her into exile. I wanted to bring her with me here, because there is much much more she can teach me, but-" She faltered. A fire lived in Tess as well, Sonia knew, a fire kindled out of a desire to seek and to know, a kind of discontent that wore away at her constantly as if she feared that too much contentment might kill her own seeking spirit. "But that will have to wait. I thought it better to leave her with Cara in Jeds. For now."
"You and Uya are very like, you know," mused Sonia. "I saw that long ago, when you first came to us."
"You have a wise soul, Sonia, just as your brother did."
Sonia pressed a hand over her heart. She smiled sadly. "I am sure the gods will send him back to us, Tess." They walked a little while in silence. But Sonia had a restless, inquisitive spirit as well. "Ilya plans to call a great meeting of tribes," she said after a while. "Do you know what he is about?"
"Yes." Tess shaded a hand to stare up at the sky, toward the sun, and her mouth turned down. She was troubled.
"And you won't tell me!
"You must ask Ilya."
"I have asked Ilya. He is certainly no more maddening than you are!"