Jaran

Dead silence. 'I don't believe you.'

'I don't care whether you believe me or not.'

'By the gods. Maybe I do believe you. I think you're jealous.'

This silence was deeper and colder and lasted longer. 'Yuri, leave me right now.'

'No. You are attracted to her.'

'Very well. It may be that I am suffering from certain desires that could, after all, be aroused by the close proximity of any woman. And satisfied by the same female, or another, whichever was closer.'

Yuri gasped, a sound caught somewhere between horror and disbelief. His voice, when he finally spoke, had such a sarcastic edge to it that Tess flinched. 'You bastard. But could a female satisfy them?'

'Yurinya.' Bakhtiian's tone could have been chiseled, it was so hard. 'I will thrash you to within a hand of your life if you ever say anything to me on that subject again.'

Tess got an itch on her nose, stubborn and flaming, but she dared not move.

'Well, I say good for Kirill and be damned to you.' Yuri strode away uphill, boots stamping through the grass. After a long pause, Bakhtiian began his slow, limping pace back down toward camp.

Tess lifted her hand slowly, rubbed her nose, and stood up. A breeze pushed through the trees and a few final drops of water scattered down from the branches onto her uncovered head. She ducked away, wiping at her hair with disgust. Heard footsteps. But it was only Yuri, returning.

'Yuri?'

'Tess! Where did you come from? Did you hear that?'

'Yes.'

He came up beside her. 'I'm sorry.'

'Are you through matchmaking now? Maybe you've learned your lesson.'

'I feel scorched,' he replied. 'Gods. Don't you start on me, too.'

'Listen. Let's settle this right now. Of course I'm attracted to him. He's that kind of man. But he's a hard, cold, ambitious bastard-you said it yourself, so don't try to disagree with me now-and he'll never be able to care for anyone as much as he cares for himself and, well, to be fair, for this thing that drives him. He may well desire me. I have the honor, after all, of being the female in closest proximity to him.'

'Tess…'

'Let me finish. And, of course, I didn't succumb instantly to his charm, which doubtless gives me a little originality.'

'You can spare me the sarcasm.'

'What did you mean, anyway, about a female not-'

'Never mind. Forget I said it. Please. I thought you were going to finish.'

She shrugged. 'I'm done. Do you understand, Yuri? I would think you of all people would.'

But Yuri's silence was mulish, not conciliatory in the least. 'I know him better than you do,' he said in a soft, troubled voice. 'You think he isn't capable of really loving someone but he is. He's slow to trust because he's been hurt so badly before, because he's been responsible for people he loved dying-for his own sister and nephew and parents-and he can't forgive himself for it. Yet he can't stop what he has to do either. But if he ever gives his heart to a woman, he will give it absolutely.'

'Then I wish her all my sympathy. He'll burn her alive.'

'Not if she's strong. Tess-'

'You're damned stubborn, Yuri, and I'm not in a very good mood, or at least, I was, but I'm not anymore.'

But Yuri plunged onward with remarkable obstinacy. 'There are times a brother's advice is of uncounted value, my dear sister, however much their sisters dislike to hear it. Just ride carefully and, gods, don't antagonize him now. If he decides he wants you-'

'You mean if I antagonize him he'll decide he wants me in revenge? I don't call that giving one's heart absolutely.'

'You're just not listening to me! It's all the same thing with him. Oh, never mind. Next time you're riding straight into an ambush don't bother to expect a warning from me.' He whirled away from her and stalked down toward camp.

'Yuri!' She started after him. 'Yuri.' He halted. 'I don't want to be angry with you.'

'Oh, were you angry with me? I thought I was angry with you.'

She put out her hand. 'Truce?'

With reserve, he shook it. 'Truce. Is it true about Kirill?'

'None of your business.' She grinned. 'What do you think?'

'I was wondering why he was so polite to Kirill these past three days.' He laughed. 'Kirill! Well, he did come in second in the-' He broke off.

'In the wagering?'

'How did you know?'

'Oh, I know a great many things. Actually, Kirill told me.'

'He's subtle, is our Kirill. You'd never think it to watch him.'

'Subtle? What does that mean?' That old, creeping, cluttering fear that she had somehow done something stupid, that she had allowed herself to be taken advantage of, reared its ugly form again, and then, laughing, she neatly squelched it. 'Well, Yuri,' she said smugly, 'subtle or not, I have no reason to complain.'

'How like a woman,' said Yuri with disgust, but they walked down to camp together quite companionably, and discussed whether Josef ought to be prevailed upon to tell a story or Mikhal to play his lute.

They rode through the hills the next day without incident. The next morning they came out onto the plain. Tess felt unburdened of a weight that she had not been aware she was carrying. She smiled at Bakhtiian, inquired politely about his injury, and was rewarded with a perfectly normal conversation about the recent debate in Jeds over the form of poetry most conducive to philosophy. Yuri was driven by this display of good fellowship to beg to be allowed to scout, if they meant to continue in this fashion. But once his reassuring presence vanished, they both grew self-conscious, and the dialogue trailed off into awkward sentences that even Niko's late arrival could not repair.

That night she sat and sat and sat in her tent, but Kirill did not arrive. At last she bundled up in her cold, empty blankets and forced herself to sleep. To be awakened very late by Kirill.

'Forgive me, Tess,' he repeated at least three times as he stripped and snuggled in next to her. 'Bakhtiian switched my and Mikhal's watch just as Mikhal was about to go out. Do you suppose he suspects?'

'Who, Mikhal?'

'You're teasing me.'

'My sweet Kirill, would I tease you?' He only laughed and hugged her a little more tightly. 'He's known all along.'

'What? How do you know?'

'Yuri knows, too.'

'Yuri! Begging your pardon, my heart, but Yuri is not my caliber at this business. I can't imagine how he would have known unless you told him.'

'No, Bakhtiian told him. There's nothing for it, Kirill. I have won the wager.'

'Well,' he said, resigned, 'so you have. I was hoping you might.'

That morning it was a near thing that Kirill got out of her tent before the camp woke to dawn. And to unexpected news, as well. Yuri greeted her with it as she saddled Myshla.

'Tess! Tess! Have you heard? We've come across Veselov's tribe! Josef just rode in.' His face shone with excitement.

'Veselov. Why is that name familiar?'

'The best of my friends from growing up is with Veselov now,' he rattled on, ignoring her comment. His voice rang clear in the still morning. 'I haven't seen Petya for two years.'

'For what possible reason would your Petya give up the opportunity to ride in Bakhtiian's jahar?''

'Oh, they'll all be Bakhtiian's jahars soon enough. But Petya left us to marry-' He stopped abruptly and glanced uncertainly toward his cousin. Bakhtiian, who had evidently been looking at them, looked away. 'Well,' Yuri continued in a lower voice, 'you'll meet her.'