He leaned to kiss her. 'Certainly it does. I also have to relieve Konstans on watch, my heart.'
She laughed and let him leave.
In the morning, it continued to drizzle, but they rolled up their tents despite the damp and went on their way. Because Bakhtiian could not scout, Tess rode with Yuri at the fore of the main group, enjoying this novelty although not the rain.
' 'What's a bit of rain,' ' she groused when they halted at midday. 'How anyone can shrug off this miserable weather is beyond me.'
'Why?' asked Yuri casually. 'Did someone say that?'
She turned her head away to hide her expression from him. Behind them, Kirill was talking with Mikhal and seemed unaware of her. Composing her face, she said, 'Yes, Kirill did.'
Yuri wiped a bead of rain away from his right eye. 'I've never heard Kirill complain about any hardship Bakhtiian has put us through.'
'Just about Bakhtiian?' Tess glanced back to where Bakhtiian rode next to Niko. Ilya was looking at her. She jerked her gaze away and fixed it self-consciously on Yuri. 'But he follows him.'
'I remember when I was a boy, and Kirill was just old enough to ride in jahar, and Bakhtiian had started this great ride of his-and Kirill clung as close to Bakhtiian as Vladimir does now. He admired him. But Ilya changed, and Kirill grew up and became his own man. Somehow, I think they never forgave each other.''
'Forgave each other for what?'
'Kirill never forgave Ilya for casting aside all his old ties of friendship, for giving up everything for the path he chose to ride. Ilya never forgave Kirill for beginning to question him.'
'You're being very wise today, Yuri.'
He grinned. 'Am I? Was there something you wanted to tell me, Tess? You have that look about you.'
'No, I just hate this rain.'
That he did not suspect was obvious. Yuri, of all people, would not hesitate to either congratulate her for finally behaving as a jaran woman ought, or, she supposed, censure her for heedlessly antagonizing Bakhtiian-not that it was any business of Bakhtiian's who she slept with, by God. And she had grown to know the riders in the jahar well enough by now to recognize the little signs that would show that they knew, and were amused, and teased Kirill. The signs that, had she known them those months before, would have shown her that the entire jahar knew about Fedya. Kirill, especially, would be teased relentlessly, in that subtle, merciless, but discreet way the riders used when there were women present. And Kirill, she realized with a sudden flash of insight, was well enough liked and well enough respected that no man in the jahar would begrudge him what he had fairly gained: her regard. Or at least, no man possibly but one.
Three days passed, riding. Three nights, she pitched her tent so that its entrance faced away from the others, out at the edge of the little camp, and Kirill crept in. Always in the best of humor, despite the damned rain. As well he might be. No one commented. It was beginning to look likely that he would win their wager.
'Gods,' said Yuri to her as he helped her set up her tent that night, where they had camped at the edge of a range of hills. 'If Bakhtiian has said ten words these past four days it's been out of my hearing.'
'He's in pain. That he can ride all day amazes me.'
'Does it? It shouldn't. He is Bakhtiian, after all. What he really needs is a woman to take pity on him and find a way to take his mind off that injured knee.'
'Yuri. No, no, no, no, no.'
'If you insist, but I still think-'
'Must we have this conversation every night? How did these damned blankets get damp?' She threw them inside and then thought of Kirill and smiled.
'What's wrong with you?' Yuri demanded. 'You look awfully pleased with yourself.'
'Oh, it's just the stars. I'd forgotten how I miss them at night, now that the clouds have cleared off and it's stopped raining.' She stood up and stretched, relishing the delicate touch of the twilight air on her skin. 'Niko says we've only a day's ride through these hills tomorrow and then we'll be back on the plains again.'
'Yes.' Yuri stood as well. 'Gods, I'll be glad to be on the plains again.' He hesitated and sighed. 'Well, I'm off to set up Ilya's tent. Wish me luck.'
'Can't Vladimir do it?'
'I'm Ilya's cousin, Tess. Mother would be furious if I let Vladimir interfere while Ilya can't do it himself.'
'Well, then, Yuri, if you're so afraid of Ilya's bad temper, I'll go with you and help you.'
'Oh, he won't say a word to me. That's why it's so bad. He just sits there. How he hates being beholden to others. Actually-' Yuri grinned- 'I rather enjoy it in a way because he knows I know how he feels.'
She laughed. 'Why is it that the ones who look the sweetest hide the most malicious hearts?'
'Why, Sister, how should I know?'
He left, and she had a sudden urge to just walk, alone, and smell the air and gaze up at the sharp brilliance of stars above. She hiked up the nearby hill and settled herself on a rock that lay beneath three leafless trees grown up on the lee side of the hill. Rain, after all, wasn't such a bad thing as long as one's feet stayed dry, and hers had. And it was not so very rainy in this part of the world, or at least the jaran knew where to ride so as to stay out of it.
Below her, a few fires lay strewn like a cache of untidy jewels across a strip of land. She breathed in. Air like this no longer existed on Earth. All of her life on that distant planet seemed at that moment inconsequential. She had so utterly lacked confidence that her slightest movement caused her fear-that she was doing the wrong thing, that someone was watching, that she only mattered because of who her brother was; worst, that she would fail Charles somehow. To be honest, about her feelings, about any action she took-that was dangerous in the extreme. While here…
Sonia's family, for no reward whatsoever, had taken her in, had given her the initial mark of respectability that had allowed her to build a place for herself within the jaran. For she had built such a place. She knew the men of this jahar respected her. She knew that she could expect the same open friendship she had received from the women of both the Orzhekov and the Sakhalin families at any tribe they might meet, simply and purely because she was a woman. She had a family. She had a lover-one, by God, she had chosen herself, with confidence, with fondness, with a fair measure of real, artless love.
Certainly their technology was primitive, but their spirit was passionate and free. Bakhtiian claimed to be jaran to the core; if that were so, then the jaran, like the wind, could fill any form no matter its size and shape. They could adapt and hold firm. They could revere the quiet heart of the gods' mysteries on earth and still remain unquenchably curious. Like Kirill, they could be brash and diffident together. She smiled, then frowned, hearing familiar voices approaching her sanctuary.
Like Bakhtiian, they could be enthralling and utterly perilous. She shrank back into the protection of shadow and held still.
'Damn it, Ilya,' Yuri was saying, 'you'll just ruin your knee, walking around like this. You ought to be lying down.'
'I'm not sleepy.'
'I'm sure Josef is in the mood to tell a good tale. He always is. He knows a thousand we haven't heard yet.'
'Yuri, leave me alone.'
'I won't! Mother will have my head if I don't try to stop you hurting yourself for no good reason. What's wrong with you?'
Bakhtiian did not dignify this plea with a reply, but Tess heard his breathing, husky from pain, as he halted not ten paces from her on the other side of the trees.
'Very well, then, I'll tell you.' Yuri's voice had a reckless tone to it that surprised her. 'You won't admit to yourself that you're attracted to her. You certainly won't act on it.'
'It is not a man's place to act.'
'Yes, you'll hide behind that excuse, won't you, knowing very well that any man can find a hundred ways to let a woman know how he feels and win her over.'
'As Kirill did?'
'Gods. Kirill is always flirting. You know it doesn't mean anything.'
'How odd that I should then see him coming out of Soerensen's tent these four nights past.'
