Page 102 of The Summer Pass

It turned out he didn’t need to explain.

“Snow in the lowlands—it’s a funny thing, but I’m not jealous of you,” Barda said. They stood waiting together by the west postern as the evening darkness deepened. “I feel like I should be. Of course I want to ride with Lord Vanu. The honour of it! He’s only taking a couple of trusted men, and he’s picked you. Of course I’d want that. But you know, I’m too happy for you to mind.”

“It’s because,” Firuduna started, “we’re … ” He’d thought he knew how he might finish that sentence, but no—no, he didn’t.

Barda did, though. He knew it didn’t need to end with a word. He looked up at Firuduna with a sidelong grin that made him look handsome and deeply untrustworthy at the same time, and said, “I think you’ve gotta be the one to do it, because you’re taller.”

He was right, and Firuduna knew what he meant. His heart thudded against his ribs. There was no one around—he didn’t care if there was anyone around. He put his thumb and forefinger on Barda’s chin, the way a man might do with a woman, and leaned down and gave him a sound, decided kiss.

“What are these?” Tirtu asked, looking down at the swords lying on the bench in front of Gurti, in the dim, lamplit hall of the great house.

Gurti looked at them too, wondering if she could keep a straight face.

“They are the swords from my bride price,” she said, and no, it turned out, she could not stifle laughter.

“What?” Tirtu’s face lit up. “How … how is that possible?”

Gurti shook her head. “It isn’t. They’re not those swords. They were hanging up on the wall.” She gestured behind her. “Lord Vanu took them down because his daughters asked. It was their idea. They wanted me to tell you that we had found the swords from Manáshta, so that you could ask me to marry you.”

“So that I … ”

“You haven’t wanted to mention it—so I think—because I told you that I wouldn’t marry a man to satisfy his sense of duty. Is that … not so?”

“Yes! That’s it, exactly. I’ve been cursing myself for waiting so long, because now you’ll think—well, how could you not? You’ll think I’m just trying to help you out. Which I would do, Gurti, of course I would! Because I love you.”

She looked at him, waiting for him to take it back, the way he had that time when he’d called her “love” by the campfire.

“Do you?” she prompted finally.

He nodded earnestly. “I do. Everyone seems to know it. Even Vanu’s girls, coming up with this clever idea about the swords. But they’re not the real ones, so it’s no use, is it?”

“I wouldn’t say that. They’ve got us to talk about this. You never told me you loved me before.”

“No. Too scared to, I guess.”

She didn’t quite know what to say. She hadn’t thought to hear this from him, not now. She couldn’t tell him she returned his love, not with perfect honesty. She had thought he was the one who didn’t know his own heart, but perhaps she had been wrong.

“You wouldn’t want me to marry you just to escape Faru’s brother on Korudukha,” she said. “You wouldn’t want to think I might have said yes to you partly for that reason.”

“I wouldn’t care!” he answered with no hesitation. “I wouldn’t care. I’d think he did me a favour. Gurti, you’re a splendid woman. I’ve thought myself a very lucky man to get to … er, to get to know you as I have. I tell you what. I’m going over the way with Lord Vanu, to join the reinforcements on the mountain. You think about it while we’re gone. If you think we could suit—I know we suit well enough in some ways, but that’s not all there is to it, I know that, and you know better than I about all the rest, having had a husband once—as I say, you think about it, and when we get back, you and I’ll talk again. How—how does that sound?”

“That sounds wonderful, Tirtu. Thank you.”

He reached out and clasped her hands, and they kissed, leaning across the piled swords between them.

The group at the west postern was small, just the men who were leaving—Vanu, Tirtu, Firuduna, Enu, and two young swordsmen from Manáshta—and a few people seeing them off. The swordsmen were brothers, and their mother was there. Enu’s wife and children were back in Tsuruva, so he had no one to see him off. Gurti had come to say goodbye to Tirtu, and Barda was lounging around with a smile on his face, for some reason.

Lill wished he could say goodbye to Vanu in private, but there had been no opportunity for that. Garda of Manáshta, who was taking over defence of Tagra Degra, had followed Vanu from the great house, still busily talking about strategy. Artayarasha had come too, but he would not be leaving with Vanu; they had discussed it and determined that he should remain in Tagra Degra. He had sent orders under seal to his guards to follow Vanu’s command and attack Pantaresh’s force.

The sun had sunk so low that most of the visible sky was dark, just a few streaks of sunset showing above the walls and between the mountain peaks beyond. They had brought no light, and in the shadows by the gate it was hard to make out everyone’s faces. They spoke in hushed voices.

How was one supposed to do this, take leave like this? Lill felt suddenly, alarmingly adrift. It wasn’t like departing on a mission—for one thing, he was staying, not going. And was it permissible to show fear when it was for another person’s safety? That would dishonour Vanu, surely.

Vanu had finished speaking to Garda and stepped away from him, taking his leave. The men who were accompanying him were already waiting by the gate. They had rope and pickaxes for descending the slope. They would be met at the bottom by messengers with extra horses for them to ride to join the troops in the valley.

Vanu turned to Lill. He was just a tall shape in the dark, and Lill thought, What if this is my last sight of him?

“All right, love?”