One gives you the shirt off his back, mused Des, and the other offers to help you bury bodies. I do believe you have made some new friends, Pen!
Hush, Pen thought back. But he believed so, too. Or a brother-in-law and a… did Idrene realize they were going to acquire a eunuch-in-law?
I imagine she will, said Des. She seems quite as shrewd as Nikys.
He grinned and let Ikos and Nikys pull him to his feet. The gray dizziness passed off as he caught his breath.
When he had composed himself, the three taking ship continued the interrupted trek for the Customs shed, leaving Ikos and Bosha to lurk warily among the crates. Pen let Idrene, all assured-army-widow this morning, although of a different and fictional officer, present their papers to the clerk. They all watched in feigned indifference as their baggage was turned out onto the table, but it was soon clear this modest party bore no contraband. The clerk grew interested in Pen’s medical case, though not for any official reason, and seemed content with Pen’s explanation that he was an aspiring student of the healing arts.
Then it was time to traverse the dock to the gangplank of the Saonese ship, and be herded up it by sailors ready to get underway. Three sturdy masts, Pen observed with approval, and even larger than the cargo vessel on which he’d traveled from Lodi to Patos not four months past, which now seemed a century ago. Making this Pen’s second sea voyage ever. Would it be as life-altering as the first?
XVIII
A bench ran along the taffrail at the stern of the big merchanter. After stowing their scant baggage in their cabin, they all went out and sat upon it to watch the sailors work the ship out of the harbor. Nikys contemplated the receding shore, as did Idrene. Their hands found each other, as if to assure that this one part of their lives, at least, was not lost to them. Pen leaned his head back under the wide sky and gazed up. Distant figures, no matter how carefully watched-for, grew indistinguishable, then the town became a blur on the sun-hazed coast, and then the coast, too, dropped below the horizon. They were away.
It felt to Nikys as though her body had been bound strangling-tight by wires, and one by one, each wire was being clipped away till none were left. She breathed, shook out her arms, sensed her blood move freely. Stretched her neck. Exhaled.
“Penric…” No, that wasn’t right. “Desdemona. Can I talk with you?”
“Mm?” Pen turned his head. “Of course. Any time.”
She stood. “Let’s go to the cabin.”
Pen followed her up at once, amiable if baffled.
Idrene smiled behind her hand. “Take all the time you like. I’ve had my fill of tiny rooms. I plan to sit right out here as much as possible, this voyage.”
Nikys rolled her eyes, but said, “Thank you, Mother.” And meant it.
The cabin was tiny indeed, two pairs of bunks built into the bulkheads facing each other across a narrow aisle. It did have a small, square window on the end, presently hooked open on the sight of the sea falling behind them, stirred by the ship’s passage. The air was fresh and fine.
Nikys gestured Pen to one bunk, and sat on the other facing him. With his long legs, they were nearly knee to knee.
Nikys hardly knew where to begin, only that she had to begin. With a feeling of jumping into murky but deep water, she said, “Desdemona, have you ever been married before?”
She wasn’t sure if it was Pen or Des responsible for his head going back and his eyebrows up, but she could mark the little changes in the tension of his face as the demon came to the fore. “By which I suppose you are asking if any of my sorceresses were married before?”
“Yes, that. During the time you were with them. I know some were widowed…”
Pen held up his fingers to keep count. Or Des held up Pen’s fingers. “Of the ten, five were never married. Sugane, Rogaska, of course Mira, Umelan, and Ruchia. Vasia and Aulia were both widowed before they acquired me, and did not remarry after. Litikone, well, I was a very young demon then. With no Temple guidance, I suppose it seemed more like contracting a madness than a power. Her husband became frightened and moved out, which was why she went to Patos to end her days as a servant to Vasia. Who was the first to acquire me purposely, if still untutored.
“Aulia of Brajar was my first trained Temple divine, and what a huge difference that made, but she was already older, and widowed, and very firm of will. Which was how I came to be handed off at her death to the great physician Amberein of Saone. She was still married, with her childbearing behind her of course, but her husband, dear fellow, was already used to dealing with a strong-minded woman. I had not guessed a sorcerer could live in intimacy so well, before. Helvia was another of the same stamp.
“Ruchia… was Ruchia, my dearest rider until Pen. The first to really treat me as a partner and a person, if still unnamed. Forty years with her quite spoiled me for anything less.”
Pen’s hands had lowered to clasp between his knees; he looked up from them. “Six of the ten had borne children, before me. None after, of course.”
“Why of course? Is it something to do with the chaos?”
Pen, yes, it was Pen now, cleared his throat. “Yes. Sorceresses who conceive suffer early miscarriages. Unless they are very knowledgeable and adept. Amberein or Helvia could certainly have brought a child to term, but they had already finished their families. Or Ruchia, but she did not choose it. Something emotionally complicated to do with herself being a foundling of the Bastard’s orphanage, I gather.”
Nikys pursed her lips. “What of sorcerers?”
“Um… I’m less sure. Well, no. I’ve heard of sorcerers who managed to get married, and have families.” He added reluctantly, “Though they are more often bachelors or widowers. Or their wives leave them, because it’s too much like living with a crazy man.” He smiled ruefully as if inviting her to argue with this, and looked more rueful when she only nodded. “I’ve never been married,” he pointed out. “Although I am trying to rectify that.”
His lips twitched back, as Des said, “Feeling left out, lad?”
“Who wouldn’t? Looking at…” A feeling gesture at Nikys, and a melting smile.
Nikys resisted melting. Barely. She tried to remember everything on her list. “I don’t want to move to Adria.”
Pen sat up. “I could transfer to Orbas, with some help from the duke. The duke pressuring his archdivine, rather. Even the Temple hierarchy must give way in the face of the sacrament of marriage. …Usually.” He added after a moment, “And if not, well, I’m in Orbas, they’re in Adria, what are they going to do about it? Although I would like to be able to travel back there someday, at need.” He nodded, as though the point were disposed of. Perhaps it was. Though, being Pen, he added after another moment, “I might still like to take you to visit Adria sometime. When it’s not having a clash with Cedonia, but then, you’re not going to be a Cedonian anymore, are you? It’s really a very interesting realm.”
Nikys grimaced. “I’d never have left Cedonia, if Cedonia had not betrayed Adelis. No going back now.”
“Sometimes,” sighed Pen, “that happens. Even without betrayal.” Missing the white peaks of his distant cantons? Though Nikys was of the strong opinion that the Mother’s Order in Martensbridge had betrayed him too, and first, through their nearly lethal mishandling of his healing skills. And he knew it, or he would not have near-fled that beloved home, either.