Page 95 of The Boy Bride

“I’m sorry,” said Lill. “I should have done that. I … ” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Thinking I wouldn’t tell you if you asked. But I would’ve.” He gave a rueful huff of laughter. “Think I forgot you didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” Lill said again.

He was sorry. It had been such a stupid blunder, entirely the wrong way to go about it. Never resort to subterfuge when you can secure information openly; Master Moon said so himself.

Besides, he should have known Vanu would go to his room to check on him.

Chapter 26

Happy Marriages

Madurasha was a big, impressive man. His beard was long and glossy black, his nose like an eagle’s beak. Heavy gold rings decorated his ears and his fingers. He and Vanu could not communicate directly—in those days Vanu didn’t know enough Zashian for a conversation—so they had mostly been sitting and smiling at each other across Davanu’s table while Davanu did the talking.

Vanu had brought Darma, his interpreter, but it turned out that there wasn’t much for him to do. Davanu spoke hand language fluently himself, and his Zashian was better than Darma’s, so he could more easily interpret between Vanu and Madurasha. Darma was sitting in a corner of the divan beside Vanu and sulking. Vanu felt young and uncouth in the presence of the Zashian nobleman, and Darma was not helping. But it made Vanu like Madurasha all the better, because he was so urbane and sensible while Vanu’s loyal companion was acting like a bad-mannered child.

Madurasha spoke finally, in a low, measured rumble, his eyes on the middle distance, his fingers moving over the string of prayer beads that he held in his right hand.

“He says there are many in Akramarra who don’t want peace with Hawakhurta,” Davanu translated, although Vanu had understood that part of what Madurasha had said, “because they have long wanted to control the passes themselves, to see the Hawakhaba driven out of the mountains and cooperative Akra governors installed. Then there are also ambitious Zashians who want to win the king’s favour by subduing the mountains themselves. Mathista of the Panchun, for instance, and the king’s own brother Artayarasha.”

“Among us, too,” Vanu signed. “The men who make their fortunes as raiders don’t want peace because it would mean an end to raiding.”

Darma made an aborted movement, as if he’d been about to say something and thought better of it.

Davanu translated Vanu’s words for Madurasha, who nodded sympathetically. He was such a gracious man, Vanu thought. He acted as though he understood, when he could have no real knowledge of what it was like dealing with the Hawakhaba, with their feuds and their bee-fuckery, their endless striving and competing for plunder. It wasn’t like that in the lowlands.

Davanu smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of whatever Madurasha had just said.

“He says he has four sons and no daughters, or he would propose a marriage alliance. Though he does have a niece.”

Darma laughed out loud. Vanu and Davanu both glared at him. Madurasha gave him a look of polite alarm, the way Vanu imagined he might look at someone who’d made a rude body noise very loudly at the table.

Davanu recovered quickly, and Vanu was able to make out that he was telling Madurasha that Darma was surprised because Vanu was young to marry, not yet twenty-one. Madurasha expressed urbane amazement, smiling at Vanu, and then apologized for forgetting that Hawa men took only one wife and so would want to take their time choosing.

When he was gone, Vanu seized Darma by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

“Don’t know what you were playing at, but don’t fucking do that again,” Vanu snarled.

Darma didn’t pretend he didn’t know what Vanu meant. He held up his hands as the colour drained out of his face. “All right. I’m sorry.”

Vanu let go of him, and Darma rallied a little.

“It was just funny thinking of you marrying a Zashian girl,” he muttered.

“I don’t see what’s funny about it,” said Davanu. “He may not want to, but it would be fine if he did.”

Darma stared at him. “And be yoked to some lowland woman with ties to the Kuro clan, after we’ve made what use we can of Madurasha and cut him loose? That seems a steep price to pay—and hard on the girl, for that matter—even if Vanu liked women.”

“Who said anything about cutting Madurasha loose?” said Davanu.

“Who said anything about not?” Darma looked alarmed. He gaped at Vanu and Davanu in turn. “You’re not seriously considering going to the invader king to—to what? To surrender?”

“To discuss terms of peace,” Vanu signed. “Were you not listening to us talk just now?”

“I was listening, but I didn’t think you were serious! Heart of the Blue Heaven.”

He got quiet after that, quieter than was usual for Darma.