legendary city of Gal. Many layers of rich rugs padded the floor. The walls were very high and glazed in random patterns of cool green and blue tiles, with small openings under the roof for ventilation.
Only Tene, the most junior Daughter, was present, kneeling in vigil before the flames and bare to the waist. Ingeld moved across to join her, although not so near that they would have exactly the same viewing. She knelt, dropped the top of her gown, loosed her hair to fall in red-gold veils over her breasts, and bent her head in silent dedication and appeal for guidance. She sensed Sansya joining them on her other side. The only sound was a faint crackling of the logs.
Sansya had fetched her, claiming that she had seen the babe, a portent that up until now had been revealed only to Ingeld herself. She had first seen it back in the spring, and that was a long time for a vision to be so restricted. Even Tene had not discerned it, and her sight was brilliant—clearer and wider-ranging than Ingeld's had ever been.
When the ripples on her soul had calmed, she raised her eyes to contemplate the coals. A boat, of course, going away. That was Cutrath. She kept trying for a closer vision of him, but all she ever saw was the boat, and often only its sail. Almost instantly an ember shifted and the boat was gone, although he could not be aware of her sight or even of his own desire to block it. She did not try to overrule him. Cutrath had never been willing to share anything, even himself; the more he needed love, the more he rejected it. She was happy just to know that he was alive—and also surprised that he was still relevant to Kosord, for his brothers had disappeared from view long before they died.
Boats approaching, five of them. They could not be far away now. And for days now this little fleet had been linked to an ax; yes, there it was, a double-bladed ceremonial ax of silver with a long handle and shiny crescent edges. Ingeld knew who that was. She pointed.
'What do you see there?'
Tene had been close to trance—it was so easy for her—and she jumped. 'My lady!... Where? Oh! A bird, my lady.'
'What sort of bird?'
She gave a nervous little laugh. Tene was very beautiful, slender and fair and glowing with youth. Even in daylight she was gorgeous, and one glimpse of those high, rose-tipped breasts caressed by firelight would drive a man clean out of his mind. There was better to come, for in the three sixdays since she had made her final vows to Veslih, her flaxen hair had begun turning bronze and her eyes to gold. 'A nighthawk, my lady. It is a white bird we have in the hills. It hunts by night, like an owl.'
Ingeld smiled, mostly to herself. 'Good omen or bad omen?'
Tene was obviously shocked to hear the light of Veslih speak of omens. 'The peasants fear it, my lady.'
'I don't blame them. I cannot see your bird, but what I do see is my own warning. How many days until she arrives?'
'Who? Er...' Tene looked back into the coals for a moment. 'Four days, my lady. The feast of Ucr.'
Ingeld exchanged glances with Sansya. 'Incredible, isn't she?'
'I am wrong?' Tene asked, worried.
'No, dear. I mean that we two can't guess within a six-day. But I think you will find that the nighthawk is your own portent of my dear sister-in-law, Saltaja Hragsdor.' Ingeld contemplated the boats. Not all evil, though. Whatever news or orders or companions Saltaja was bringing had mixed implications for Kosord. Horold had reacted with predictable horror when warned that his sister was coming.
And there was Benard, striding along an alley with a sour expression on his face. He was in even worse trouble than usual. Ever since spring, when he began showing up in the embers, Ingeld had regarded Benard as a civic matter and had kept him under surveillance, so she knew exactly where he was heading. One of Eriander's hags had her claws in him.
'There?' she asked, pointing.
'The artist,' Tene said, just as Sansya said, 'Celebre.'
Ingeld had never met a Florengian Daughter until she inducted Sansya, and she was fascinated by the way the Veslihan change expressed itself on Florengian coloring. The heavy tresses hung like ropes of reddish metal, but it was the fiery shine of Sansya's skin that most impressed; her aureoles and nipples might have been carved from enormous red garnets, glowing like lanterns in the firelight.
Now for the babe... 'Where do you—' No need to ask. Ingeld could see baby, baby, more baby... It had been born, and that was why it had gone from private portent to civic. 'Big healthy lad,' she muttered. She could not see the mother, or even any hint as to
'I see it,' Sansya muttered. 'It is a blessing for the city, my lady.'
'But so much blood!' Tene cried. 'Surely the mother died!'
¦
Puzzled and deeply troubled, Ingeld went back to her room to think on these things. She sent word to Horold to expect Saltaja next fifth-day, and left orders that she was not to be disturbed by anyone except Tene or Sansya. It was almost dark already. Many of her evenings were spent counseling brides-to-be, but at this season the young were too busy bringing in the harvest to have time for romance.
Thoughts of reaping reminded her of a verse in the Arcana ... She put her head out again and told them to let Benard in if he appeared. She was not certain he was coming to visit her, but she needed a serious talk with that unserious young man, for he had been entangled with the rogue Nymph quite long enough and should be rescued before he suffered permanent damage.
Nymphs undoubtedly performed a valuable service—without them, single men would be a public nuisance, constantly bugling like wapiti. Most Nymphs were true to holy Eriander's ideal of love freely exchanged, but some became greedy or even sadistic as they aged, and this one had offended Ingeld before. A few days before he left
