Jaran

'Well,' she said finally, for something to say. 'Thank you.'

'I told him I would kill him if I ever found out that he hadn't delivered either message or relic.'

'Ilya!' She wanted to laugh but he looked so grim that she smoothed the letter out instead. 'I feel sure it will get there. And the khepellis?'

'I hope you will forgive me, Tess, but I lied to Lord Ishii. I told him-' His voice shook, '-that you were dead.' He stopped. 'Tess,' he whispered. 'I didn't even know, all that time, if when I came back, you would still be alive.' The agony in his expression disturbed her so much that she found refuge in staring off toward the camp. Though a number of young men still worked on the practice field, in the camp itself some event had occurred to excite the interest of the tribe. Children ran, screaming and leaping, and adults walked quickly away from the periphery of the camp toward the hidden center.

'Niko took good care of me,' she said in a voice not her own. 'And anyway, Bakhtiian, as I recall, I promised you that I would live.'

'Yes,' he said in a steadier voice, 'you did. Can you forgive me the lie?'

Startled, she looked up at him. 'Of course, I forgive you. You probably saved my life.' She faltered.

'You will never grant me anything simply because I am your husband, will you? Nothing, except when you were so ill that it was easier to agree than to argue. Nothing of your own will. Well, you told me yourself you did not want me. I ought to have listened.'

'Ilya…' Once, before everything had been shattered by Yuri's death, she would have yelled back at him. Now she simply felt faint. 'I have to sit down,' she said apologetically.

'Tess! Gods, you're pale.' He closed the gap between them and picked her up in his arms. 'I'll take you back to my aunt's tent.'

'I can walk.'

'You will not walk, my wife. You're exhausted and as pale as the winter grass. I think I may be allowed to carry you so far.'

It was no use fighting, so she simply lay against him, cradling her head on his shoulder and shutting her eyes. She could not bear to see what kind of stares were surely being directed their way. She heard Niko.

'Ilya! What is wrong?'

'She is exhausted. You've been working her too hard. Is this how you take care of her?''

'She was fine until you came back,' said Niko crossly. 'But I was coming to get you in any case. You are wanted at your aunt's tent.'

Tess kept her eyes clenched shut. He walked with her easily, as if the burden was gratifying to him. She heard a few whispers, a few broken comments, but nothing she could not ignore. For a little stretch, there was silence, as if no one was about. But when he halted, she felt a roiled hush surrounding them, as of many people whose attention was split among several momentous occurrences.

'Nephew.' This in Irena Orzhekov's ringing tones. 'I hope you will come forward and explain this immodest display. This woman may be your cousin but she is also unmarried.'

'Unmarried! She is my wife.'

The silence rang more loudly than shouts would have. Tess opened her eyes. Most of the members of the tribes of Orzhekov and Veselov had gathered here before the awning of Mother Orzhekov's tent. Beneath the awning, the two etsanas faced each other, seated respectably on pillows. Blood still wet Arina's cheek, seeping from the cut scored from her cheekbone diagonally down to the line of her jaw. Kirill stood behind her, looking pale but determined. His mother knelt in front of the two women, and whatever discussion Ilya's precipitous entrance had interrupted clearly involved her.

'Your wife?' demanded Mother Orzhekov. 'I see no mark, Nephew.'

Every gaze was fixed on them. Behind Irena Orzhekov sat her three daughters. Sonia stared transfixed, hands on her cheeks, lips parted, fighting back a grin. Behind Arina Veselov, behind Kirill, sat Vera, and behind her, Yeliana. Vera's face was white, her mouth a thin line.

'Let me down,' Tess whispered fiercely.

'Ah, so you have come back to me,' he murmured. 'You were acting far too meek.' He lowered her gently and set her on her feet beside him but he did not relinquish his grip around her waist. It would be undignified to struggle in so public a place and with such an audience. Doubtless he counted on it.

'Niko,' he said, 'I thought my aunt had been told.'

'Bakhtiian, it was not my right to tell.'

Ilya glanced at Tess. 'With your permission?' he asked, but he did not let go of her. She nodded mutely. 'Mother Orzhekov,' he said formally. 'Terese Soerensen and I rode down the Avenue of the shrine of Morava at sunset. The ceremony was completed. The bond has been sealed. So she is indeed my wife. And I,' he added, with a sardonic edge to his voice, 'am her husband.'

Silence could not contain their audience's astonishment. Exclamations, comments, every kind of noise broke out, and hushed to stillness when Irena Orzhekov rose. Arina sat with complete composure. Kirill, behind her, now looked strangely serene. Sonia had clapped her hands together, delighted. Vera-Vera was gone.

'I will have quiet,' said Mother Orzhekov. 'I think this assembly has ended. If you agree, Mother Veselov. And you, Elders?' More nods from various aged faces.

She had to say no more. The crowd dispersed quickly and with a great deal of noise.

'Come here, Ilyakoria,' said Irena when only the etsanas and their families and five Elders from each tribe remained. She sounded displeased. He looked not the least bit cowed. 'You will sit beside me until our business is finished here. Tess, sit with Sonia.'

Sonia said nothing when Tess sat down next to her but squeezed her hand.

'Now, Olya Zvertkov, is it truly your wish to bind yourself over into the Veselov tribe?'

These negotiations went on for some time. The two etsanas haggled over tents and pots and how many of which flock ought to go to which tribe in recompense for the loss of Kirill's mother or the gain of Kirill himself. Tess rubbed her eyes and lay her head on Sonia's comforting shoulder, and Sonia put her arm around Tess to hold her steady.

At last they agreed, and Arina rose. Bakhtiian rose as well. 'I have not yet released Kirill from my jahar,' he said. 'And while I claim the right to perform that release in private, I ask that he remain behind now.'

The two women nodded, and Arina took her family and her Elders and left. Bakhtiian gave his aunt a curt nod and then walked away to where his tent was pitched some distance behind hers.

'Tess!' whispered Sonia. 'Why didn't you tell me! Did Yuri know?'

'Yes.'

'Well, the gods' blessing on that. It would have made him happy.'

'Everything made Yuri happy,' said Tess bitterly, and then she stopped, seeing what Bakhtiian had brought them from his tent. Two blankets, folded neatly, and on top of them, two red shirts, folded with equal neatness. A scrap of sleeve showed on one, a line of Yuri's distinctive embroidery.

'I bring these to you, his sisters.' Ilya knelt before his cousins and held out his hands. Kira, the eldest, took them from him with reverence, but instead of turning to Stassia first, she turned to Tess.

'Which will you have, my sister?' she asked.

Tess started to cry silently. She took the topmost shirt gently from the pile and held it hard against her face. The silk was cool and soft. Sonia took the other shirt and cradled it against her chest. She, too, was weeping. Kira and Stassia each took a blanket.

'Because my kinsman Yurinya has neither brother nor father living, I return his saber to you, my aunt.'' He offered it to her.

Tears ran down Irena's face, but her expression remained composed. 'You are his nearest male relation. It is yours, now, Ilyakoria.'

He shut his eyes for an instant. 'Thank you,' he murmured, and he simply held it a moment before he remembered where he was. Then he turned to Kirill.

'Perhaps, Zvertkov, you will tell Yuri's sisters, and Mikhal's wife, how they died.'

Kirill was very pale but his voice was steady, and the account he gave covered Yuri and Mikhal with so much glory that Tess could hardly believe it was true though she knew it was: that Mikhal had ridden back into the fight instead of riding for help, as he might well have done with no shame-as Petya had; that Yurinya had saved Tess's life. The children had crept up to listen, and Katerina and Ivan clutched their mother, faces solemn. Stassia held