“Moirin, this is foolish!” Aleksei pleaded with me. “Whatever you’re doing, I wish you wouldn’t.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I trust them.”
He shook his head in mute dismay.
Vachir and I agreed to a simple contest-the best of three shots at the distance at which we had last competed. He let me take a couple of practice shots to accustom myself to the feel of a new bow. It was different, very different, from the yew-wood bow my uncle Mabon had made me. It was shorter and stiffer, and the ends curved sharply outward, making for a tighter, more concentrated draw, the bow recoiling sharply when the string was loosed.
On my first shot, I missed the target altogether, provoking good-natured laughter from the onlookers. But I got the feel of it and adjusted quickly, acquitting myself well enough with my three official shots.
And then Vachir stepped up to the mark, drawing and releasing three times in quick succession, clustering three arrows in the center of the crude red heart painted on the stuffed target.
I laughed and bowed to him in the Ch’in manner, one hand clasped over the other. “Your honor is restored.”
He smiled his quiet smile. “I suspect we would be closer matched if you had more time to practice with an unfamiliar bow. May it serve you well, lady archer.”
After I had thanked Vachir and Arigh for their generous gift one last time, Aleksei and I took our leave of the Tatar camp. I gave him the bow and quiver to carry, reckoning it would look less conspicuous on the streets of Udinsk. He listened silently to my explanation of how I had come to compete against Vachir in the archery contest at the spring gathering.
“Are you angry?” I asked when I had finished. “Truly, I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think we could trust them. The laws of hospitality are sacred among the Tatars.”
“Not angry, no,” Aleksei said slowly. “You lived among them, you know their ways. It was just… strange… seeing you thusly. Strange, and beautiful. It made me understand why the old Hellenes gave one of their goddesses a bow. Every time I think I am coming to know you, Moirin, I discover a new you. It’s as though I turned a corner I thought was familiar, and found myself in a hallway I hadn’t known existed.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to respond.
He gave me a sidelong glance. “Are there many more of you?”
I thought about it. “Well, there is the Moirin of Terre d’Ange who served as royal companion to the Queen, who went about in jewels and finery, attending balls and concerts and poetry recitals. And there is the Moirin who was Master Lo Feng’s pupil, and learned to master the Five Styles of Breathing and studied the Way. But they are all me, Aleksei. Does it trouble you?”
“No.” He frowned. “It’s just that I’ve only ever been one person, I suppose.”
I took his arm. “You’re an uncut gem, sweet boy. Time will reveal your facets. The Aleksei I met three months ago is not the Aleksei who offered to teach me to lie to his uncle, and that young man is not the Aleksei who plotted our escape. Of a surety, none of them are the Aleksei who consented this very morning to accept Naamah’s blessing.” I raised my brows. “Or had you forgotten?”
“No.” Aleksei flushed and looked downward, his dark lashes shuttering his eyes. “Oh, no.”
“Good.” I squeezed his arm. “Now let us see if that bath is ready.”
FORTY-ONE
The bathing-chamber was small and steamy, the tin tub was small and cramped-and the bath was altogether a glorious thing. It was the first hot bath I’d had since leaving Shuntian, and the first time in months I’d been able to bathe without chains rattling and clanking around me, and shackles chafing my skin. If I hadn’t had to share it with Aleksei, I’d have stayed in that tub until the water cooled.
It was worth every cent it cost.
Such a simple thing; and yet it felt as though I’d taken a step further toward reclaiming myself, washing the taint of the Patriarch’s touch from my soul even as I washed the grime from the journey from my skin.
Afterward, I found myself humming. To be sure, all was not right with the world. Distant Bao and his low-burning diadh-anam were never far from my thoughts; and I was a long way from being safely out of Vralia.
But yesterday I had been penniless, tired, and hungry, with scarce a possession in the world. Today, I had nearly everything I would need to set out on a long journey. I was well fed, well rested, and clean.
And today I was on Naamah’s business, which made me happy.
I had assumed my modest, blushing boy would want to wait for nightfall and the cover of darkness to invoke Naamah’s blessing, that I might even have to coax him into letting me light a candle.
Much to my delight, I was wrong.
I sensed it in the common room where our hostess, whose name was Polina, served us leftover chicken and dumplings for a midday meal. Clean and damp from his bath, Aleksei stole covert glances at me as we dined, and I could sense the yearning rising in him, an aching hunger I longed to assuage.
“You don’t want to wait for nightfall, do you?” I asked softly.
“No.” His voice was low and steady; and although he blushed, he held my gaze without flinching. “I want to see you, Moirin. All of you.”
I nodded, rose, and held out my hand to him. “Let us go, then.”
He took a deep breath, nodded in agreement, and took my hand. As we left the common room together, our hostess Polina gazed after us with a maternal look of habitual disapproval mixed with indulgence.
In the bedchamber, I closed the door and latched it. Aleksei glanced around the sunlit room. “It does seem very bright.”
“Too bright?”
He shook his head. “No. I will not hide from this.”
I fetched one of the tallow candles we had purchased earlier that day. It took several tries to kindle it with the flint striker.
“What’s that for?”
“An offering to Naamah.” I smiled at him. “It should be incense, but I thought you’d take it amiss if I stole some from a temple.”
“Like as not.” Aleksei tried to smile back at me, but it came out as an anxious grimace, tension beginning to war with desire in him. He took another deep breath, shuddering as he exhaled. “What… what am I supposed to be doing, Moirin? You will have to tell me.”
“Nothing, sweet boy.” I laid one hand on his chest. “I am going to pray to Naamah. If you like, you may pray with me.”
“I don’t think I can,” he said earnestly. “But I will keep you company if you like.”
“That would be nice.” After removing my shoes, I knelt on the wooden floor, sitting on my heels and fixing my gaze on the candle- flame, barely visible in the bright daylight. Aleksei knelt beside me, quiet and still, doing his best to contain his nerves.
I prayed.
As strongly as I felt Naamah’s presence in the gift that Aleksei and I shared, it took a long time before I was able to sense her will. I had sought to seduce Aleksei toward my own ends; I carried a burden of resentment that I had failed, a burden of resentment toward his uncle and his aunt; and aye, a lingering burden of resentment toward God and his son Yeshua.
I had to let go of those things, offer them up.
I did.
The bright lady smiled, but she remained silent. I concentrated on the flickering candle-flame, willing my heart to be open and my ears to hear.
“You wished this, O brightest of goddesses,” I whispered in Alban, reverting to the tongue of my birth. “Will you not grant your blessing to this hurt and damaged child of yours? I offer myself as your vessel.”
When it came, it came in a rush, a sense of Naamah’s grace settling over me like a cloak of sunlight, like an embrace, like the tenderest of kisses, making my heart ache, setting the doves to fluttering in my belly. She was here, present between us. I drew a shaking breath, tears filling my eyes, words filling my mouth.