"And I -- don't kill him? I take him prisoner?" He looked at her like an eager puppy, and she had to restrain herself from patting him on the head and telling him he was a good boy.
"Exactly. Then you have the link back to your enemy; I have no doubt that a skilled priest can elicit the truth out of your captive. When you've got the truth and a warm body to confirm it, you let the law deal with him." She nodded affably. "Chances are at that point there will be plenty of people ready to link him with your cousin's death, and he'll be called to answer for that, too. But it's all going to depend on patience on your part. Three or four years' worth of learning and getting ready, knowing that at any time your parents may take care of the situation through other means."
"I can do it," Belton said firmly. "I don't think Hesten could, but I can wait."
"I think you can, or I wouldn't have told you how to set it all up," Tarma affirmed, and leaned forward. "Now, feeling better?"
"Better than -- in a long time," the boy said, with a slow, shy smile. "I think I can sleep now."
"Then go let yourself out -- and do me a favor, go tap on the door of Jadrie's room and tell her I'm about to make a last bed-check, would you?" She leaned back lazily in her chair.
He cast a sharp glance at her, then grinned. "Are you?"
"Not if I don't have to -- but it's time they stopped giggling and gossiping and got some sleep." She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if we just shouldn't let all three girls bunk together and be done with it."
"Hah. You know girls, they'd never get any sleep," said Belton, with the superior air of a boy who has not yet learned the real fascination of the female sex. "They'd spend every night giggling over nothing."
"You're probably right," Tarma sighed with mock regret as Belton got up and went to the door. "Just pass them the warning for me, would you?"
"I'd be glad to," the boy said with a grin, and managed to close the door quietly behind himself.
:That was neatly done,: Warrl observed without raising his head from his forepaws.
"What, getting the lad to scare the brats back into bed, or dealing with the potential avenger?"
:Both.: Warrl sighed, and rolled over so that his belly was to the fire. :Thank you for arranging things so I wouldn't have to leave the fireside.:
"Thank you for the compliment, Furball." She yawned, and realized that she had no real interest left in the book she'd been reading, or the tea she'd been drinking. "And since I won't have to go chivvy the girls into their beds either, I'm going to set a good example and go to mine."
* * *
It was the usual sort of midwinter day for the south of Rethwellan; gray and overcast, with clouds like long, lumpy serpents packed together so tightly that not a trace of blue snowed through. A breeze hissed in the bare branches, but didn't disturb the ankle-deep snow. Kethry, with Jadrek, Jadrie, and Tarma had come down to say their farewells to Kira and Meri; a part of Kethry regretted the need to stand there in the snow waving until the children, at least, were out of sight. Her feet were cold, and breakfast had been a long time ago. Still, Jadrie would have thought it terribly unfeeling of her not to be here.
The last set of escorts finally rode out of sight with Kira and Meri safely in their midst, and Kethry was grateful that there had been remarkably few tears of parting. And, in fact, long before the last speck faded out of sight, Jadrie had left them to go back inside the gates. As the core group of adults walked back through the gates and entered the door of the manor, Kethry cocked her head to one side. Tarma looked at her with a quizzical expression. "What is it?" the Shin'a'in asked. "Listen-" Kethry whispered, and grinned at Tarma's quick answering smile. "Silence. Isn't it wonderful!"
"By the end of the month you'll be bored and wanting your students back, and so will Tarma and I," her husband replied knowingly, and took Kethry's arm. Even after all this time, she still got a warm thrill at his touch, and she laid her free hand over his. He had a knowing twinkle in his eyes as she squeezed his hand in response.
"Well, we still have our own younglings, and I'm going to go drill Jadrie and the twins in the riding arena," Tarma replied. "They think I'm teaching them riding tricks and Shin'a'in horseback games to impress their friends. Hah!"
One of these days that trick isn't going to work anymore. Kethry laughed. "Just don't keep them at it too long. It is a holiday, and it's not fair for us to give their friends release from study and not give them the same treatment."
Tarma tossed her hair back with a casual flip of a hand. "Oh, don't worry, I'm an old hand at making lessons seem like play."
"At least until they catch you at it," Jadrek warned, echoing Kethry's thought, with a chuckle. "Last holiday within a fortnight they had it figured that your game of 'hide and hunt' was nothing more than practice in tracking."
"Well, that's your fault for breeding such clever children," Tarma retorted, as she strode off in the direction of the stables. "You should have been a little more careful."
Kethry laughed, and hugged Jadrek's arm, reminded again how grateful she was that her she'enedra and her beloved were as fond of one another as the best of siblings. "To think that I was once worried about how you two would get along!"
Her husband arched a slender, silver eyebrow at her, and she braced herself for something witty, funny, or both. "Do you think that for one scant moment I would even contemplate doing or saying anything to offend our best unpaid child-tender? Perish the thought, woman!"
"I know, how foolish of me." She released his arm with a kiss on the back of his hand. "I am going to go do something nonmagical, frivolous and feminine; I'm going to go brew up some perfume in the still-room. I've spent so much time making bruise-ointment and salve for the little hoydens that I haven't done a thing with the roses I harvested this summer, or the sentle-wood and amba-resin that I bought from that trader this fall."
"Mmm," Jadrek replied absently, as his mind apparently flashed elsewhere. I think he just realized that he's going to have whole stretches of time without interruptions for the next moon. "I've got a translation I promised to young Stefansen that's been giving me some problems."
Kethry made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go do it, then but set the candle-alarm for three marks, or you won't remember to eat luncheon, and I'm certain that Cook is already planning something a bit more experimental now that the children are gone."
This would make another pleasant change; on the whole, children bolted food without paying much attention to it, and looked upon things that they didn't recognize with suspicion. It was only when no one was in residence but "the family" that Cook made anything other than good, basic fare. And Cook looked forward to the holidays with some anticipation for that very reason.
"Well, I wouldn't risk my marriage by offending Cook either," Jadrek laughed, and kissed her forehead. "Now don't you forget to set your alarm-candle!"
They went their separate ways, and Kethry immersed herself in the intricacies of creating her own signature perfumes -- a light floral, rich with roses, and a heavier, more incense-like scent, both with hints of cinnamon. The still-room was one of her favorite places in the manor, pleasantly dim (some essences reacted poorly to sunlight), cool in summer, warm in winter. There was just enough room for one person to move about, so no one came here unless invited. She puttered happily with oils and fixatives, flagons and pestles. When her alarm-candle burned down the allotted three candlemarks and released its little brass ball to clang into the copper basin, she came to herself with a start.