Jin Li Tam felt her heart flutter and expand. “You mean-?”
The River Woman nodded again, picking up a bucket of river water. “You’re with child. Recently, too, I’d say.” She winked.
Jin Li Tam did not know what to say. Instead, she sat still and watched as the woman clenched the ring and its strings in her closed fist, speaking to them in a mumbled tongue she could not place. The River Woman poured the water into a wooden cup, then dropped in the ring, still mumbling.
“Now,” she said, “we see what your water tells the river.”
Jin went into a back room, feeling suddenly awkward and exposed. She felt fear and elation arguing within her over whether she should run or dance. Afterward, when she brought the cup back out, the River Woman took it and set it on the table.
“Now finish your tea, dear,” the River Woman said. “It will take awhile.”
Jin Li Tam looked at the cup and the ring at the bottom of it. The threads were tucked neatly beneath the gold circle, their tips waving slightly in the blended waters. “What if it’s wrong?”
The River Woman shook her head. “Forty years and I’ve yet to not know a woman with child when I saw her walk into this hut-even as soon as the morning after if you get my meaning.” She grinned and sipped her tea.
They finished their tea in silence and sat, watching the cup. Finally, the River Woman clapped her hands. “Delightful,” she said. The blue thread had become disentangled from the ring and drifted to the top.
Jin Li Tam didn’t need to ask what it meant. She fell back into the chair, letting her breath out. She felt tears in the corners of her eyes, and her stomach suddenly felt uncertain. “A boy,” she said in quiet voice.
The River Woman nodded. “A strong one, by the looks of it. What will you name him?”
She didn’t even think about it. The name leaped to mind immediately even though she’d not thought about it before this very moment. “Jakob,” she said. “If Rudolfo concurs.”
The River Woman’s smile filled the room with light. “A strong name for a strong boy.”
Jin Li Tam couldn’t take on amp;#_her eyes off the cup now and its blue thread floating in the yellowed river water. “He will need to be,” she said. “He is inheriting a tremendous task.”
The River Woman nodded. “He will be strong because he has strong parents.”
One of the tears broke loose, and Jin Li Tam felt it trace its course down her cheek. “Thank you,” she said.
The River Woman leaned in, her voice low. “Lady Tam,” she said, “it occurs to me that you are more concerned about how this child came to be than you need be. Lord Rudolfo will be delighted and he will not question this.” She paused. “I consider this to be a private matter between you and me.”
Jin Li Tam nodded. “Thank you,” she said again.
As she left the hut to make her way back to the manor, she found herself wondering what kind of mother she would be. She’d barely known her own mother, spending most of her time with large groups of siblings, taking instruction from her father and his brothers and sisters as they raised her to be a Tam. The idea confounded her. Two parents bringing one child into the world and staying near that child until old age carried the parents away. That child creating children of their own and the turban passing down from father to son in the shadow of a new library in a different world.
It was the most terrifying undertaking Jin Li Tam had ever imagined.
Once inside her room, she reran the bath and stripped down, pausing in front of the full-length mirror to study her stomach.
Easing herself into the hot, sweet-smelling water, Jin Li Tam smiled.
Neb
Neb felt the weariness deep in his bones now that the work was done. He’d walked Windwir twice in the last week to be certain, but despite the winter’s storms they’d finished ahead of schedule. And though the sense of accomplishment permeated him, he felt a sadness in the midst of it. Over the months, he’d seen more and more of the Marsh girl, Winters, and they’d fallen into a routine together. At least twice weekly now, she met him out on the northern edges of the camp, when he could discreetly slip into the forest. They walked together, and somehow, somewhere along the way, their hands had touched and then joined so that now, whenever they walked alone, they did so hand in hand. They had not kissed again, but Neb found himself thinking of it all the time, uncertain of how to bring that about again.
He laughed as he walked north across the empty plain. Over the last several months, he’d commanded a camp of gravediggers, presided over discipline, even buried some of their own dead when the war crossed into their work. He knew how to order and inventory the supplies for a camp, and he found himself suddenly undeof s sorstanding and even proposing military strategy. All impressive for a boy of fifteen years.
Sixteen now, he realized suddenly. Sometime in the last few weeks a birthday had slipped past him unawares.
He had learned much and had proven much, but he still did not know how to kiss a girl.
As he approached the line of trees he called out, and she broke from them, running nimbly across the ash and mud.
“Nebios ben Hebda,” she said, smiling and out of breath. She looked around the field and looked south to what remained of the gravediggers’ camp. The tents were already coming down as the workers began their exodus. A small contingent would be traveling north with Neb to aid the construction of the new library. Most were scattering to what homes they could either find or make or return to. “You really are finished,” she said.
Neb nodded. “I am. Petronus and Rudolfo should arrive tomorrow. I’ll ride back with them to the Ninefold Forest to see what help I can be with the library.”
Winters smiled. “Your work here was impressive. I’m certain you will be an asset to them.”
He smiled, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. Odd how only she could do this to him. “Thank you,” he said. “Shall we walk?” He extended his hand to her and she took it.
They walked to the river first, pausing there to watch a deer at the far side. They’d never come so close before, but nature reasserted its rule quickly. Someday, Neb thought, if no one built here, this plain itself might return to the forest it once had been.
As they walked, they didn’t speak this time. Before, they’d talked about his dreams and the Marsh King’s dreams and where they intersected. He’d always been amazed at her grasp of those-as if she were in them, herself. And she had been on a number of occasions, or at least the image of her.
She’d shown up in other dreams, too, that Neb could never talk about. Just thinking about them made his hands get sweaty and his mouth go dry. In one of those dreams, they lay beneath a clear canopy looking up on a moon far more massive and blue and green and brown than the one that hung in their night sky. They lay there naked in their own sweat, holding one another in their arms. She had rolled into him in that dream, her body sending shivers through him as she whispered in his ear.
“This dream is of our home,” she had said, and he’d awakened afraid that she really had been there, not just some image of her conjured out of his imagination and his desire.
As they turned west and walked with the river to their back, they feor b/dill into a rhythm. After a while he looked over to her, and saw the sadness on her face.
She looked at him and as if reading his mind, she explained. “We will never have these times again,” she said. “I will miss them.”
Neb shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, Winters.” He knew he should say something else, thought about it, and hoped they were the right words. “I want to see you again,” he said.
She squeezed his hand. “I do, too. But it will be complicated.”
He stopped, suddenly knowing what to do, exactly what to do, and the words tumbled out before he could think himself out of them. “Then come with me, Winters. Surely, the Marsh King would understand and grant you this? Perhaps Rudolfo would speak to him on our behalf. Come and help me with the library.”
She stopped walking and dropped his hand. A wry smile played on her face, and the beauty of it, despite the smudges of mud and ash on her face, made his heart ache. “An interesting proposal, Nebios ben Hebda.”
He blushed at the word “proposal,” and starting reaching for words to dismiss his outburst. But she continued before he could finish that dismissal. “What would I do in the Ninefold Forest? How could I help with this library?” She took a step closer to him, and his nose was alive with the earthy scent of her. He could feel heat radiating from her, and he willed his feet forward one step.
