The weather remained fair for the next six days. They achieved a kind of equilibrium: in the mornings, Kirill insisted on a grueling practice session with saber, with the permission of Mother Avdotya, of course, and many of the male priests and even Yeliana came to watch. In the afternoons, some combination, always Tess and Yuri, often Kirill, and sometimes Mikhal and Konstans, would go riding in the great park that surrounded the shrine. Every night, Tess and Yeliana took a torch and a few candles and sneaked down to the hot springs to luxuriate there for a lazy, glorious hour.
The fifth night, Yeliana said out of the dark waters: 'I will go with you.'
'Go with me? Where?' asked Tess.
'Go with you when you leave here.'
'But I can't take you to Jeds.'
'Oh, I don't want to go across the seas. But you rode with the men. Why shouldn't I? I always envied Vladi that he left here. I never went because there was no place for me to go. I have no tent, no mother or aunt to gift me one. It is easier for a man. If he distinguishes himself in battle, then a woman might not set her brothers on him if he marked her. And there, he has a place in a tribe. But if I could learn to fight-'
'But, Yeliana-'
'You did it. Are you saying other women cannot?'
'No, but-'
'I hate it here,' she said without heat, simply as a fact. 'I'm young enough. I can learn.'
'Well,' said Tess slowly, 'you can go where Vladimir went-to Bakhalo's jahar-ledest. If he'll take you. I have an old saber I can give you. It isn't a very good one, but-'
'A saber!' Yeliana's excitement manifested itself in muffled splashing at her end of the baths. 'My own saber!'
What have I started? Tess thought, and sighed.
The next morning, Yeliana appeared again at practice and Tess politely asked Kirill to show the girl the most basic strokes. Kirill raised his eyebrows, but he complied.
'Do you know what I think?' said Yuri at midday, when they sat resting under a tree. 'I think she must be Vladi's sister by the same parents.'
'Why? They don't look so much alike.'
'No, but for the color of their hair and eyes. And she's rather tall for a girl. But did you see her with those cuts? Oh, she's very rough, and very new, but there's a certain grace, a certain touch for the blade…I'll never have it, no matter how many years I practice.'
'You're not the hardest worker at saber, Yuri.'
'That's true, but even if I were-it's not in me.'
'No.' She smiled and settled her arm around his shoulders. 'You have other gifts.'
'Yes, and whenever women say that, it's never a compliment.'
Movement erupted at the distant doors that led into the shrine. A moment later, Mikhal came running up to them.
'Riders, coming in,' he said, and ran off again.
Tess and Yuri scrambled to their feet and followed him.
'Look!' cried Yuri. 'It's Petya!'
It was a small group-only eight young riders-but merry as they greeted the four men from Bakhtiian's jahar. But Tess hung back. She could only watch, and after a few moments, even that was too much. She fled into the park and walked, just walked, out into the woods.
Midday slid into afternoon. Finally, she knew she had come far enough-except that nowhere would be far enough-and she turned back. The first shadings of dusk were beginning to color the park when she heard a horse blowing off to her right. She ran over and found herself looking out over the secluded meadow that sheltered the sacred pond. A man, leading two horses, stood by the pool, staring down into the water.
'Kirill.'
He spun. 'Don't ever go off like that! Anything could have happened to you! Damn it, what were you thinking? Yuri was half crazy, wondering where you had gone.'
'But I… I…' To her horror, she began to cry, and she collapsed onto her knees on the soft cushion of grass.
'Tess!' A moment later he enclosed her in his arms and held her to him. 'What is it, my heart?'
'I don't want to go,' she whispered into his shoulder. Tears stained his shirt.
'Then don't go.'
'I have to.'
'Why?'
The question struck her to silence. She rested against him, comforted and warm. He shifted on the grass and she looked up at him, so near. He sighed, a long exhalation of breath, and pulled her gently down to lie with him on the grass.
'It's cold,' she murmured.
'I brought blankets.'
'If Yuri is worried-'
'He knows where we are.' He kissed away her tears, one by one.
'But, Kirill, did Veselov only send eight riders?'
'Here.' He helped her up. 'Your tent is over here. It will be warmer inside. Yes, for now. Petya says that Mikhailov's jahar came up a few days after we left, and Sergei Veselov sent out the main force of his jahar to stay between Mikhailov and the Veselov tribe. But they swung north, so it's no danger to us. But still, there were only a few riders left in camp when Ilya rode in. We'll ride to meet the tribe and then Veselov will lend us more men once Mikhailov has swung clear.'
She crawled into her tent and found it rich with blankets. She laughed and nuzzled into them, then sobered. 'But why should Mikhailov swing clear? What if he follows Ilya?'
Kirill shrugged. 'Bakhtiian can solve his own problems. Do you want me to go?'
He sat so close to her that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Before she could answer, he embraced her suddenly and fervently. 'Don't ask me to go, Tess,' he said in a fierce whisper.
Tomorrow she would ask Yuri if it was really possible to love two men at the same time yet in such different ways. Tonight she simply pulled Kirill tight against her, not letting him go, because she knew that this was his way of saying farewell.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
'So far as depends on courage.'
The tents of the Veselov tribe lay along the river's bank in haphazard line, strung out in clumps of family groups camped together. The two great tents, one belonging to the etsana and one to her niece, stood in the center of the long It was unusual this early to see a fire blazing in the fire pit dug between the two tents, but one was. Three scarlet-shirted men stood there, rubbing their hands by the warmth, watching the large kettle of water that rested over the flames. Dawn pinked the horizon but the sun was not yet up.
'Vladi,' said Niko. 'Go find Anton Veselov and ask him how she is doing.' Vladimir nodded and walked away to the etsana's tent. 'That woman,' said Niko uncharitably, 'never did a good thing in her life, and now with everything else, she has to fall ill. What if she dies? Little Arina ought to be etsana but that damned cousin of hers will wrest even that from her if she can.'
Ilya blew on his hands and glanced toward Vera Veselov's tent, where nothing stirred. A woman emerged from the etsana's tent, glanced at them, and walked with Vladimir award the river. 'Arina is young, just eighteen, I
