“You can atone for it in one way.”
“Tell me and I will do it.”
She sat up straight, crossing her arms. “If you meet anyone, like me or Gareth or Quinn or River and they be lost in this world, treated unfairly, alone, without friends, I beseech you to send them to me. Send them to us. They will find what they seek in Sister Sea. And we will find a place for them.”
“I will.”
“And you yourself, lady,” Thalia said, her tone thoughtful, eyes on my hagstone again.“I see loss in you. Mother Earth is not the only one of the Farthest Four to offer comfort. Come pray in the temple with us. Your goddess is not a jealous one. Yours and mine often act together.”
84. Alric
On the morning of the fifth day of my husband’s absence, I woke to the rumbling brown tabby curled along my side and a wedding ring on my left ring finger. It was plain, thin and made of silver. I sat up, disturbing the poor cat, who gave a cry, but only moved a little and in the bit of light coming through the sides of the animal skins, I saw my husband’s boots caked with clay and mud leaning against his wooden chest. A clean, second pair had been there before. Over the cat, I reached to his side of our bed, trying to feel for warmth. He had to be back. He had not stayed long in our rooms and must have only returned after nightfall.
“Thank you,” I gushed. “Thank you for protecting him.”
My goddess did not reply. But we had a deal, she and I. I had just under three moons to have him before my bones rotted in Nyossa, encroached in moss.
I checked the drawer in the desk for the key to Gareth Pope’s bath, but it was still there. I bathed myself with intention in the baths, washing my hair, running lavender oil through it and braiding it into a crown around my head. I rubbed the oil all over me, sitting on the edge of the baths on a folded linen. I kept holding my left hand out, admiring my ring. The ring Thrush had given me was encrusted with rubies, but this was much more valuable to me.
I entered the dining hall, eyes peeled for him, but the Procurers’ table did not include him or Thatcher. I showed Helena my left hand and explained my theory that Alric and Thatcher must have returned to the keep in the middle of the night.
“They live,” she breathed. “I know you explained we had naught to worry about, but…”
“I know,” I said. “I am relieved.”
My day at the earth temple was tedious. Cian had given me the drudgery of taking the accounts of a marl marker and a dissatisfied farmer who had said the marl he bought had done nothing for his crop, no fertilization or different yield. I asked the marl maker what kind of clay, lime or seaweed he used and wrote that all down. Then, the farmer, a barley and lentil man, gave me his account, accusing the marl marker of substituting seaweed with land grasses. This took me all morning and my head ached from bending over a ledger and my right hand cramped, my reed pen nib leaving a dent on my right forefinger. Both men were rude and accusatory and when luncheon was nigh, I told them to leave. I delivered the accounts to Cian’s office, my greeting brief, avoiding his question of how I fared. His offer of petitioning for my divorce and my lack of response hung between us. I walked with the rest of the staff to the dining hall, aware of Cian’s eyes on me. I sat with Hazel, again looking towards the Procurers’ table. I did not see my husband or his sergeant there, but I did see Thatcher sitting at our regular table, eating dried peach slices with Helena, kissing her between bites, while she pretended to be scandalized.
“Where is my husband?” I sighed aloud without thinking.
“Ah, itisa love match,” said Hazel. “You once told me the correct rumor was the one where you tricked him but now you hanker for him openly.”
“And I did not lie, my friend.” I was looking down at my plate.
She poked my arm. “You did notmeanto lie, but lie you did. I love to see lovebirds.”
A jaded part of me wanted to protest that Alric did not love me the way that I loved him, but my bargain came to my mind. Time was short and I would love him no matter. “This makes you think of you and your Gordon?” I teased, masking my inner strife.
In the afternoon, I took another tedious account of another farmer who had had three oxen die on him. I was grateful that he was at least more civil than the men I had dealt with during the first half of the day. I assured him that Cian or Hazel or some other earth priest would visit his property to see if the oxen were diseased or cursed.
At dinner, I did not eat the fragrant roasted eels which were served in an herbal buttery sauce. I could not bear to concentrate enough to eat such heartiness. I picked at fig preserves on toast and had a cup of pear cider. I was massaging my sore right hand with my left when I felt his eyes on me.
I looked up to see Alric sitting with the Procurers, his mouth full of bread, chewing methodically. He jerked his head towards the entrance to the corridor closest to our stairwell.
I smiled fully at him. I pointed at my plate, as if I had any interest in the bread or nuts there.
He swallowed his bread and mouthed what I thought was ‘quickly’ at me.
I put a nut in my mouth and chewed slowly, watching the minuscule twitch of annoyance in his face. I did not know what game we played, but I was the winner. I held up my left hand and twirled the wedding ring on my ring finger with my thumb. “Thank you,” I mouthed.
He held up his own left hand.
Though he was many tables away, I saw the glint of his own ring. And I did not want to play this game anymore. I wanted to play another. I took one last sip and stood, bidding my companions a good night. I had complained earlier about my day at the temple and they thought me retiring to rest. Without looking in his direction, I walked at a brisk pace towards our stairwell. I heard footsteps behind me and I knew them to be his. I wanted to look over my shoulder, but that felt like I would lose the game. I quickened my steps and I heard him do the same. Then, because the majority of the keep was eating and no one was around to witness it, I began to run, laughing as I did at my own frivolity. I heard him begin to run too, though I guessed he was not running as fast as he could. When I hit the stairs, I was sprinting. By now, he was nearly at my heels, but I continued to elude his superficial pursuit.
In a burst of speed, I made it to the room before he had exited the stairwell and I ran inside and closed the door shut, hand on my stomach trying to catch my breath. Thinking how they could hamper us, I undid my belt, apron and sagaris, letting them sacrilegiously clatter to the floor.
Behind me, I heard the door swing open and be closed shut.
He stepped to just behind me, not quite touching but only a breath separated us. His right hand cupped the back of my head. “Take it down,” he said, removing his hand.
