Page 13 of The Boy Bride

“More?” he said. “But there’s no more room to hang them.”

She rolled her eyes at him and shoved the basket into his arms so she could sign back: “That is because you’re not hanging them properly.”

She began smartly rearranging the garments he’d already hung out, somehow finding room for all the clothes she had brought. He laughed shamefacedly.

“Da, Da!” Mikhi shouted, running out of the house. “I tried the cheese and it turned out great!”

Their lives revolved around these things now: taking care of their houses and possessions, getting the daily necessities of water, fuel, and food. Especially food. For the girls, it wasn’t so different from their former life, he guessed, but for him it was like living in another world.

“Come with me,” he said to Mikhi, on impulse. “Let’s go talk to Tirtu.”

“About what?” Susami gave him a sharp look.

Maybe she was still worried about the business with the boy bride. He didn’t know how much Mikhi had told her—for that matter, he didn’t know how much Mikhi herself had heard or understood, and she hadn’t asked him about it. He would need to talk to them both—to all three of them—but he needed to know what he planned to do about it before he could explain it to his daughters.

“I think we should have another dinner, all together—it’s been too long. What do you think?”

“Lovely,” said Susami, smiling and obviously relieved. “I like that idea.”

“Yes!” Mikhi cheered.

“Tell Atari, will you?” said Vanu. He beckoned to Mikhi. “Let’s go find Tirtu.”

* * *

Dinner was brought to the infirmary that night by a girl Lill had not seen before. She was young, fourteen or fifteen, reed-thin but rosy-cheeked and winsome, and though she wore big gold rings in her ears, she dressed in the same black coat and loose trousers as the men and wore her flaxen hair pulled back in a messy knot. She even carried a sheathed knife, poking out of her sash.

“We’re all eating in the gathering place tonight,” she announced as she put down a tray laden with food. “But Na Gurti said you should not stir from here yet, either of you.”

She spoke loudly—a little more so than necessary—and there was a softness and flatness to her pronunciation that was familiar to Lill. She was hard of hearing, he guessed. He must make sure to speak clearly and directly in her line of sight when he replied—except, he remembered in time, he couldn’t reply, because she was speaking in her native language, which he was pretending not to understand. He had almost made a basic mistake, an amateur mistake. He cursed himself inwardly.

Outwardly, he nodded and smiled and said, “Thank you, miss,” in Zashian.

“I made the cheese,” the girl informed him proudly, pointing out a dish of soft white cheese flecked with herbs. “It’s very good. The best I’ve ever made.” She got to her feet. “I have to get back. Maybe next time we eat together you can come. Before we send you back over the wall. Oh yes,” she continued as if one of them had exclaimed in surprise, though of course they hadn’t, “we are going to send you back. Da doesn’t need a bride, and you—” She frowned at Halza. “We don’t even know what you’re doing here. Enjoy your food.”

She turned smartly and trotted out of the infirmary. She was wearing wooden clogs that clomped resoundingly on the flagstones in the doorway.

“What did she say?” Halza asked when she was gone. “Do you have any idea? She looked at me—was she talking about me, I wonder?”

Lill reached for a piece of fresh-looking flatbread. “I don’t know what she said, but if I had to guess, it was probably that they’ll be sending you back over the wall when your leg heals.”

Halza blanched. “Sending me how?”

“Not throwing you. I expect they’ll get a ladder or something so you can get up to the top and then call to the troops at the guard house. Here, try this cheese. Mm, it’s tasty!”

“Who was she, do you think?”

“One of Vanu’s daughters, obviously.”

“Oh.” Halza shuddered.

“See, she didn’t look the least bit interested in eating you, did she?” Lill couldn’t resist adding.

She’d have been born at around the same time Vanu led the raid on the Tawa Valley. Maybe men up here married young. Lill chewed his mouthful of bread and cheese, thinking about how this girl was feeding him food she had prepared, and he was planning to kill her father. But things like this must happen all the time. It was just that he was new to it.

They finished the food, and Lill ignored Halza’s protests, as usual, to get up and slip out of the infirmary. It was beginning to get dark, the passages between houses draped in shadow. He picked his way carefully to the path that led to the well yard and followed it, staying under the eaves of the houses. He saw torchlight flickering ahead and expected to hear loud voices and laughter, but the gathering seemed surprisingly quiet. The voices were subdued; he couldn’t make out words. Frowning, he turned back. He wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop properly, and the risk of being found out would be greater. It wasn’t worth it. Besides, there would be plenty of time.

There would be plenty of time if he wasn’t going to be sent back along with Halza—but he had no reason to believe Vanu’s daughter about that. She just didn’t like the idea of her father taking a lowland boy as a bride.