He shrugged, pleased and embarrassed at the same time. “I do my best,” he said, and again had no idea how much he sounded like Hestan. He looked at Vanai. Regardless of what they’d just done, they hardly knew each other. He coughed. “I do want to see you again, though; before next mushroom season.” He hoped that didn’t sound too much like,
“I want to see you again, too,” Vanai said, and once more Ealstan had all he could do to keep from jumping up and turning handsprings. She went on, “Tomorrow is market day, so I don’t think I can get away, but I can come here the day after.”
His heart leaped--and then fell. “My schoolmasters will beat me,” he said glumly, “the ones not out gathering mushrooms themselves, at any rate.” He could think the switchings he got worthwhile as long as he lay in Vanai’s arms--but not, he feared very long afterwards.
To his relief, he saw his unwillingness to drop everything for her sake hadn’t offended her. Instead, she was nodding. “You have a head on your shoulders,” she remarked. Anyone who knew him would have said the same. But she didn’t, not yet, not with the mind as well as the body.
Out beyond the oak grove, someone called to someone else. It wasn’t aimed at
either Ealstan or Vanai, but both their heads came up in alarm. Nervously, Ealstan asked, “Did your grandfather come hunting mushrooms with you?” Brivibas, that was the old man’s name. If Ealstan had to be polite in a hurry, he could.
But Vanai shook her head. “No. He’s searching by himself.” Her voice went cold and distant. She hadn’t talked about her grandfather like that before. Something must have happened between them. Ealstan wondered what. He saw no way to ask. Vanai found a question of her own: “What about your cousin--Sidroc?” She’d remembered things about Ealstan, too. He felt outrageously flattered.
“He went off to the north awhile ago. We are supposed to meet back at the city gate at sunset.” Ealstan leaned over and kissed Vanai. She clung to him. The kiss went on and on. They started to lie back on the leaves again, but whoever was outside the little wood called out again, louder and closer this time. “We had better not take the chance,” Ealstan said, and heard the regret in his own voice.
“You’re right.” Vanai slipped out of his embrace and got to her feet. “You can send me letters, if you like. I live on the Street of Tinkers in Oyngestun.”
Ealstan nodded eagerly. “And I live on the Avenue of Countess Hereswith, back in Gromheort. I
“Good.” Vanai nodded, too. “My grandfather will wonder when I start getting letters from Gromheort, but I don’t much care what my grandfather wonders, not any more.” Something had indeed happened between her and Brivibas. Maybe she would tell him what in a letter.
“I had better go,” he said, though he didn’t want to leave her.
But she nodded once more. “And I,” she said, and then, as an afterthought, “I will address my letters to you in Forthwegian. I wouldn’t want to put you in danger by letting anyone know you’re friendly to Kaunians.”
He was grateful, and ashamed of himself for being grateful. “If I can do anything for you--or for your grandfather,” he remembered to add, “let me know. My father is not a man without influence.”
“I thank you,” Vanai said, “but would he use that influence for the cursed blonds?” She didn’t try to hide her bitterness.
“Aye,” Ealstan said, and nothing more.
He saw he’d startled her. “Well,” she said, “if he’s your father, perhaps he would.”
“He will,” Ealstan said, though he didn’t know if Hestan’s influence reached tOiOyngestun. “And so will I.” He had no influence at all and did know that. But he would have promised Vanai anything just then. By the way her eyes shone, she believed him, too, or at least was glad he’d said what he had.
Ealstan kissed her one last time, then started back to Gromheort. He kept looking over his shoulder at Vanai, and almost walked into a good-sized oak. Feeling silly, he waved to her. She was looking over her shoulder, too, and waved to him. Only when they couldn’t see each other any more did Ealstan turn forward and walk straight.
As he walked, he wondered what to say to Sidroc. He laughed. The easiest thing might be to tell his cousin the truth; Sidroc would surely call him a liar. But what Sidroc would call Vanai didn’t bear thinking of. He’d been making lewd jokes about her since the day Ealstan met her. Now .. .
She’d given herself to Ealstan without
