come in?'
Ilya rounded on Tess. 'Did you invite him? Did you? I'm not sharing you with him!'
'Ilya, why did you get drunk?' she asked, stupidly stuck on this one point.
He jerked his head away from her and stared at the far wall.
'Because he's mad at you,' said Vasil. 'And anyway, isn't an ugly battle excuse enough to get drunk?'
'Aren't all battles ugly?' Tess demanded.
'There were children in that citadel,' said Ilya under his breath. 'Children. They slaughtered them, rather than let them fall into our hands. Gods. There was a baby, a tiny baby. And a pregnant woman.' He covered his face with his hands. He shuddered.
'Oh, Ilya.' Tess embraced him. The blanket fell down from her as she pressed against him. Almost as quickly, Vasil moved and crouched down on his other side, running a hand up Ilya's arm, up his shoulder and neck, up to the luxuriant mass of his dark hair.
'No,' said Ilya. But he did not move away.
'You do love him,' said Tess, amazed by this revelation. Amazed that, faced with the truth, it no longer frightened her.
'You don't understand,' Ilya said into his hands. 'I love you, Tess.'
'I know you love me,' Tess said. And he trusted her. He trusted her to see this. She felt such a rush of confidence and joy that he must have felt it as well, because he sighed audibly and turned his face into her hair.
So close, across Ilya's body, Vasil smiled at her, and she was struck by a second revelation-that she desired him in part because Ilya desired him. 'You see,' Vasil said to her, 'how much you and I are alike. I love him. You love him.'
'And he is gods-touched by a vision in his heart. This is all very well, Vasil, but the bitter truth is that no matter how he feels, he already chose his vision over you.'
'But I'm a respectable married man, now,' said Vasil. 'So is he. There's no reason we can't live in the same camp. Not any more.'
'Stop discussing me as if I'm not here,' said Ilya into Tess's hair. 'Given the choice, you must know that I'd choose Tess over you without hesitation.'
'Did I ask you to make a choice?' asked Vasil.
Ilya went quite still.
'What are you suggesting, Vasil?' Tess asked, astonished and appalled and abruptly intrigued.
Vasil leaned close across Ilya and kissed her. It was a lingering kiss, and his hand slid caressingly up her bare back-except it wasn't Vasil's hand, there, on her back. It was Ilya's.
'Do you want me to leave?' Vasil murmured.
'No,' said Tess, surprising herself, because it was the truth. Ilya said nothing. Neither did he move away from them. They took his silence for assent.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The monitor implanted in David's ear buzzed, stirring him out of his drowsy lassitude. The candle had burned out, leaving the little room in darkness. Even the high window, paned with a transparent substance stronger than glass, let through only the light of stars, not enough to illuminate anything more than dark shapes against darker background. The dark of the moon.
'Oh, hell, I've got to go,' he said, sitting up.
Nadine yawned and pulled her legs up so that he could scoot past her. 'Umm,' she said, and fell silent, undisturbed by his nocturnal comings and goings. She ought to be used to them by now, he thought, glancing back at her as he struggled to get his clothes on. He swore as he got his trousers tangled up. He shook them free and tried again.
'David.' He felt more than saw that she raised herself on an elbow to peer at him. 'You aren't married. Do people think you ought to be?'
'No. I don't think it's any of their business, anyway. Do people think you ought to be married?'
'Of course.' Her tone was caustic. 'I even have a suitor, who would mark me in a moment if he didn't know that I'd cut him to ribbons if he tried.'
'You don't like him?'
She shrugged. 'I like Feodor well enough. He's a pleasant lover. But he doesn't care about Jeds or anything I learned there. He doesn't care about maps. He doesn't wonder about anything, he just rides in his uncle's jahar and acquits himself well in battle, and is a good son to his mother and a good brother to his two sisters. He doesn't have any imagination, David!'
'And you have enough for two people. A trait I'm rather fond of.' She smiled at him, and David grinned back. It was one of her great charms: he was fond of her, and she of him, and yet there was no possessiveness in their relationship. They shared what they shared while they shared it. Beyond that, they had their own lives. 'But if you don't want him, then what is there for people to complain of in your behavior?'
Her voice darkened to match the room. 'Because women aren't supposed to have any choice in marriage. Because every woman ought to be married, so that she can have children.'
'Do you want children?' He gave up trying to get his trousers on standing up because he couldn't manage to keep his balance. He sat down and slid them on one leg at a time.
'No. I want to ride.'
'With the army?'
'I like the army. I'm a good commander, too. I'd rather explore, though, like Marco.'
'Like Marco!' He chuckled and stood up, fastening his belt on. 'Yes, you and Marco would make a good team.'
'Thank you,' she said. 'I admire him. He reminds me of Josef Raevsky, but perhaps you don't know Josef.'
'No, I'm sorry. Listen, Dina, I have to go.'
'Why? I know the prince is expecting a party to arrive from the coast, but surely they won't arrive until daylight. How can you know which day they'll arrive, anyway?'
David sighed. He was growing annoyed with this constant slippery sliding he had to engage in to get around her tireless, curious questioning. It would have been easier if he'd never taken up with her, but he liked her, damn it, and as the days passed he found his irritation being directed more and more at Charles. Charles should never have proclaimed the interdiction if he didn't mean to hold to it. Damned hypocrite. It wasn't Charles who had to dance the delicate dance of truth and lie to avoid giving away privileged information, to avoid the betraying slip of the tongue, to avoid telling this stubborn, affectionate spitfire that her beloved uncle was unconscious and possibly dying.
'I'm sorry.' Nadine lay back down. 'It's none of my business.'
Which only made him feel worse. He went back and kissed her, and left, thankful that she was both sensible and understanding. He padded down the hallway to Charles's room. The door was latched shut. He knocked twice, a pause, and twice more. Jo opened the door. He slipped inside. Inside, Cara Hierakis's image stared at him without seeing him.
'— preliminary signs show that he's no worse for the wear. He's weak, as might be expected after almost sixteen days in a coma, and he's a damned difficult convalescent, if you ask me, but I don't at this time expect a relapse.'
'How is Tess?' asked Charles.
'She's ecstatic. Hello, David.' The image raised its eyebrows and glanced behind itself, toward nothing they could see. 'Her health is fine. I must go.'
'Off here,' said Charles. The image snapped and dissipated into nothing. A cold light illuminated the room, a steady gleam that seemed alien to David's eyes after the flickering lantern light he was growing used to.
'What happened?' David asked.
