Page 100 of The Summer Pass

“I know.” There was something new in Vanu’s expression, a kind of lost look. “I didn’t think it would be so hard to tell you I have to go fight. It’s what I do.”

“It is.”

“It’s not that I thought you’d object.”

“Thanks.” Lill smiled. “I wish I could come with you, but to be honest, even if I weren’t injured, it would make more sense for me to stay. My skills will be more useful here than on the battlefield.”

“Absolutely,” Vanu signed, and his hands were steady enough, but Lill thought he might have paled a little under his tan. “I have a job in mind for you, actually,” he went on quickly. “I’m making Garda of Manáshta my deputy here, and the guards are all divided into units now and have their orders, so things should run smoothly. Can I leave you in charge of morale?”

“You mean … what do you mean?” It wasn’t a subject they’d covered in his training. “Of course I’ll do it, but what do you want me to do?”

“Just what we’ve been doing since last night. Visit the men on the walls, check on things, see everyone’s doing all right. Invite some of them to the hall in the evenings, make sure no fights break out.”

“I’ll do it,” said Lill. “Of course.”

“And look after my—our family. But that goes without saying.”

“Of course,” Lill said again. And it did go without saying, which was such an astonishing thing. “Our family,” he repeated aloud.

Vanu drew him close and wrapped Lill in his strong arms, and the guards by the gate probably liked that, if they were watching. Lill didn’t notice.

“What were you and Shaman Padunu whispering about?” Gurti asked. She set down the basket of feathers she had brought for the arrow-making.

Otoni frowned up at her. “I don’t think we were whispering,” she said finally. “You know the shaman likes the sound of his own voice too much for that.”

“And so?”

Otoni made an expert slit in the shaft of an arrow with her knife. “I think you heard what we were saying. We were talking about you and Tirtu.”

“Yes. I wish you would not, Daughter. It is none of your concern.”

Gurti sat down opposite Otoni and picked up a knife of her own to trim the feathers.

“I beg your forgiveness, but I think it is. It concerns our family. If you have lost the swords from your bride price and cannot repay it and can be forced to marry your husband’s brother because of that—that is my concern. I would be very sorry for that to happen. So would the shaman.”

“Tcha, would he indeed. I am sick to death of hearing about those swords.”

“But would it not be best to solve the problem in the way Tirtu suggests?”

“And what way is that?” Gurti snapped.

Otoni stared across the table at her. “By … Wait. Has he not asked you to marry him?”

“He has not.”

“Oh. We thought … Surely he wants to marry you—and it would help you, so why would he not suggest it?”

“He knows I would say no.”

“You would?”

“Yes. I’ve no wish to have another man marry me out of a sense of duty.”

“That’s, um … ”

Otoni looked confused, which Gurti could understand. She was in no mood to explain herself, but she felt she must, so she went on crossly:

“It is how I feel. I have no notion what put it into my head to care about such a thing. You may not believe me, but I did my best to make sure Khatu did not marry you only out of duty. He does owe a duty to his child, but if he didn’t also want you as his wife enough to be a good husband to you—I felt he ought not to marry you. Perhaps you don’t agree.”