Tobas found her sweet-tempered but stubborn, intelligent but naive. She seemed far younger than himself, though he knew she was no more than two years his junior. He could not imagine living with her from day to day or taking her to his bed.
The days passed, however, and the wedding drew ever nearer.
The snow began falling around midday on the twenty-first, and on the morning of the chosen day it had reached a depth of six inches, with drifts over a foot. The Lord Chamberlain had anticipated a crowd of perhaps two thousand; a tenth of that actually showed up.
That was still quite enough for Tobas. Going through the ceremony, vowing to the gods to cherish a near-stranger, was almost worse than facing the dragon.
Peren seemed to be enjoying his part of it; he and Tinira made a much better couple than Tobas and Alorria, quite aside from the complications Karanissa’s presence created. They both seemed very happy with their situation, and Tobas supposed glumly that their marriage would be a success. He doubted they felt any great love for each other as yet, but they did seem to like one another, which was as much as could be said for most marriages.
After the ceremony came the delivery of the promised dowry, carried out in a small locked room; Tobas and Karanissa counted out seven hundred pieces of gold as their share, and Peren took the remaining three hundred. Karanissa took charge of the large share, and Tobas did not worry about it further. He was too busy worrying about the rest of the day and night that lay ahead.
When the gold was taken care of, the feasting and the merrymaking began; three different minstrels had composed odes in honor of the dragon slayer, and Tobas found himself acutely embarrassed by all three. One singer had a trick of jamming extra syllables into his lines; another couldn’t carry a tune; and the third, though his songs were well written and lovely, had embroidered the truth beyond recognition, adding a long dialogue between Tobas and the dragon wherein each listed the other’s offenses against dragonkind and humanity respectively, and then went on to boast of his own prior achievements.
“But the dragon didn’t talk,” Tobas insisted quietly to Alorria, while trying to keep up a polite smile. “If it’s true that dragons can learn when they grow old and wise enough, then I suppose it never had anyone to teach it a language, living alone up there in the hills, or maybe it just didn’t think we were worth talking to. But in any case, it never said a word.”
“It was just a bloodthirsty monster,” Alorria agreed.
“I think that it was just hungry, really, there isn’t much for something that big to eat around here, except livestock and people.”
Alorria shuddered delicately. “Don’t talk about it like that.”
“Why not?” Tobas asked, startled. “These idiots have been singing about it!”
“That’s different. It sounds so awful when you talk about it eating people just because it was hungry.”
“What other reason could it have? And they’re singing about the same thing! Listen to that: ’You have swept the fields with bloody slaughter, devouring the peasants’ sons and daughters.’ I never said anything like that!”
“Tobas, it’s just a song; be quiet and enjoy it.”
Tobas realized he was being unreasonable. What he actually wanted to protest was not the minstrels’ songs, but that he was marrying Alorria. She, however, was not likely to be a receptive audience to any complaint of that sort; she was obviously delighted to be marrying him. Morosely, he settled back and drained his wine cup.
A servant promptly refilled it; Tobas made no protest. One good thing about Dwomor was the local wine, which was of truly exceptional quality. He had been without any wine worthy of the name for some time and intended to enjoy the stuff now that he could.
When at last the happy couple was sent off to their chamber, with much cheering and a smattering of bawdy remarks, Tobas was somewhat tipsy, though still able to navigate well enough. The combination of alcohol and an evening spent in close proximity to Alorria’s beauty had worn away his reservations and left him looking forward to the night. Their bridal chamber was the same room that Tobas and Karanissa had been using for the past two sixnights; no better accommodations were available. Alorria had, until now, shared a chamber with Zerrea, so that her former residence was not a possibility. Karanissa and Peren had tactfully been given smaller, separate rooms elsewhere.
Tobas was surprised, therefore, to find the witch waiting for them in the suite’s sitting room. “Hello,” he said, confused and embarrassed, unsure whether to keep his arm around Alorria’s waist or not.
“Hello,” Karanissa said as she opened the door into the bedchamber.
“What are you doing here?” Alorria demanded, clearly upset by her rival’s presence.
“I wanted to say good-bye before I left,” the witch replied. “I didn’t want Tobas to worry.”
“Left? Where?” Tobas asked. His arms dropped away from Alorria as the warm glow of the wine suddenly vanished.
The three of them had all moved on into the inner room as they spoke. “I think you two should have some time to get to know each other,” Karanissa explained. “So I was planning to leave for a while. I don’t want to be in the way. Tobas can come and get me in the spring, when the snows melt enough for travel.” She reached for the drawstring to uncover the tapestry.
“Wait a minute, Kara!” Tobas said.
“Let her go!” Alorria said, holding him back.
“Good-bye,” Karanissa said. She picked up a case of wine she had waiting ready by the bed, stepped into the tapestry, and was gone.
“Oh, no!” Tobas said. “You’re not leaving me here like this!” He pulled free of Alorria’s hands and stumbled through the tapestry after his first wife.
“Tobas!” Alorria cried. Without having any idea of what she was actually doing, she followed her hero-husband.
CHAPTER 33
“Now look what you’ve done,” Karanissa said, her hands on her hips as she stood on the bridge to the castle gate.
“You might have warned me what you had in mind,” Tobas retorted from the outer path.
“Where are we?” Alorria wailed, clutching Tobas’ arm and staring around at the eerie, red-lit void.
“Calm down,” witch and wizard said in unison. A spriggan giggled from one of the castle windows.
After a moment, Karanissa shrugged. “Well, we’re all here until spring, so we might as well make the best of it. Come on in.” She turned, and the doors opened before her.
“Showy witch,” Tobas muttered, annoyed by the entire situation.
“They were locked from the inside,” Karanissa reminded him. “How else would we get in?”
“Call the servants,” Tobas replied immediately.
“But, Tobas...” Alorria began.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Karanissa admitted.
“Ha! It seems to me that there are a lot of things you didn’t think about!”
“Tobas...” Alorria said urgently.
“I hope most of the spriggans are gone,” Karanissa remarked.
“And I hope I have the ingredients for doing lots of dream-messages; I don’t want anyone to worry about us.”
“Tobas!”
Tobas turned to Alorria. “I’m sorry, Ali.” He waved an arm at the castle. “This is part of marrying a wizard, I suppose; at least, it’s a part of marrying me. Welcome to your new home!” The princess gaped up at the gargoyle-covered ramparts, the bat-winged turrets, the forbidding black walls.