His conquering sword

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

At the tail end of summer, Tess came home. She had sent no message before her, only a courier from the coast, and she rode into camp with her escort in the late afternoon, hard on the messenger's heels, having made good time herself.

"You might have warned me," said Sonia grumpily, hugging her. "I've no celebration prepared to welcome you home."

Tess kissed her on either cheek. "You are my welcome, Sonia. Oh, gods, look how much Katya has grown. Is that Vasha?" She laughed. "And who are you, young man?" she said to Ivan. "I scarcely recognize you." Tess shone with happiness. Sonia felt, to be truthful, unutterably relieved to have her back. She had been gone for almost nine months, and at times, Sonia had worried that she might simply decide to stay in Jeds or even to follow her brother back to Erthe. Now, Sonia saw that she had worried needlessly. This was Tess's home now.

Tess caught sight of a figure wavering under an adjoining awning. "Good God, is that Nadine?" She broke away from Sonia and strode over. She could not embrace Nadine very well, since Nadine was by now so incredibly pregnant that her belly overwhelmed every other feature. "Dina! How are you?"

Nadine flushed just as Sonia hurried up to forestall the explosion. But she was too late. "I hate mis!" Nadine exclaimed. "I just hate this!" She pushed Tess away and turned and waddled back into her tent.

Tess turned to Sonia. At once, her happy glow subsided. She looked guilty. "Oh. Is that the way it's been with her?"

"Let me tell you," said Sonia, drawing Tess away from Nadine's tent, "that pregnancy has made her even more foul tempered than usual."

Tess cast a glance back at the tent. The entrance flap stilled and hung there, heavy, cutting Nadine off from the rest of her family. "Can that be possible? Poor Nadine."

"Tess, my dear, you ought to save your sympathy for those of us who deserve it. And Feodor Grekov is impossible. If he's not fighting with her, then he spoils her. I can't imagine why I ever agreed with Mother Sakhalin that he would make a good husband for Dina."

"You agreed!"

Sonia arched an eyebrow. "Certainly Mother Sakhalin consulted me since my mother was not available. To be frank, there were other young men I preferred-a very well-mannered and clever young Raevsky son, for instance-but it might have proven difficult to persuade any of them to marry her."

Tess snorted. "Well, then, you got what you deserved." She grinned, surveyed the camp, and sighed, happy again. Kolia went up to Svetlana Tagansky's daughter and the two children circled each other like two horses getting acquainted. In her competent manner, Svetlana oversaw the unpacking and the rolling out of tents, and Aleksi took the horses out to the herd. Farther back, a young woman in a Jedan gown sat stiffly in a wagon, hands clasped in her lap and her hair covered by a loose white scarf.

"Who is that?" Sonia asked.

"She's my hostage," said Tess lightly. "A Jedan noblewoman. Baron Santer's daughter. I thought I might marry her to Anatoly Sakhalin."

"Anatoly Sakhalin!" Sonia surveyed the young woman, who seemed unremarkable except perhaps for the calm with which she regarded the jaran camp. She appeared to be an extremely self-possessed young woman. "Have you asked Anatoly about this?"

"I thought I would discuss the matter with his grandmother."

"Well," said Sonia, with deep misgivings, "I will see that a messenger goes out to them. Not that I don't think it's a good idea. Of course, I know who Baron Santer is.

But keep in mind that there are other young men-Georgi Raevsky, for instance-"

Tess gave her such a look. "You're showing a sudden partiality for the Raevsky tribe, aren't you?"

"I am giving my husband the honor he deserves. In any case, I suggest you speak with Anatoly first. He just returned from the south, from his uncle's army, two hands of days ago."

"Hmph," said Tess, and then grinned hugely and hugged Sonia again. "Oh, I missed you so much." She broke away and swept her gaze around the camp. It halted on her tent, sitting there, looking silent and alone at the heart of the camp. "But where is Ilya?" she asked, sounding rather plaintive.

"Sulking in the tent." Sonia laughed. "Or pacing, more like. The truth is, I think he's afraid he'll embarrass himself if he meets you in public."

"Wise of him, I'm sure," Tess replied, but her face had already lit. "If you'll excuse me." She had enough dignity not to run, but she vanished into her tent swiftly enough.

The next day, Mother Sakhalin and her grandson arrived from the Sakhalin encampment a half-day's ride downriver. Tess received them under the awning of her tent, and Sonia saw how unconsciously Tess carried authority with her now, as if she had grown used to wielding it in Jeds. It made her at once more formidable and yet more easygoing. Ilya sat beside her, looking remarkably subdued. Sonia reflected that it had not, on the whole, been an easy nine months, what with Nadine pregnant and Ilya's moods swinging wildly from day to day. They had traveled slowly back through Habakar, de-marking territories, installing governors, and sending Kirill Zvertkov to the south to reinforce Yaroslav Sakhalin in the Xiriki-khai province. Gangana had revolted and, quite rightfully, Ilya had laid the city to waste as an example to the rest. All in all, Sonia had been relieved when they reached the plains again at the beginning of summer and Ilya had announced that he intended to remain on the plains for at least a year. For almost five years he had been fighting; it was time to rest while others consolidated and pressed forward.

"Mother Sakhalin," said Tess, "your presence honors me. Anatoly, I am pleased to see you as well."

Mother Sakhalin looked tired. Her grandson looked nothing like the expressive young man of almost two years ago who had won by his own exploits the right to command a jahar. He looked a little unkempt. He had let his hair grow, tied off in three braids, and his eyes had a hard, cold gleam to them now, echoed by the set of his mouth. There were stories-that he had covered himself in so much glory in the past year, fighting in the worst skirmishes and the fiercest battles, throwing himself always to the front of the engagement, that one could scarcely recount all of the tales in one evening. His jahar took the worst casualties, and every man who fought beside him had either been killed or badly wounded, and yet Anatoly came through every engagement without a scratch. And then, ten days ago, like a horse bolted for home, he had turned up at his grandmother's camp.

Now he regarded Tess Soerensen, his expression so masked that Sonia could not read his feelings. "I want to go to Erthe," he said without preamble.

Shocked, Sonia looked at Mother Sakhalin, and what she saw there dismayed her further. Mother Sakhalin looked not just tired but frail and old. A month ago she had not looked like this.

"But that's impossible, Anatoly," exclaimed Tess.

"It can't be impossible," said Anatoly stubbornly, "if others have gone before me."

"It is impossible," said Tess so coldly that Anatoly shrank back from her and, abruptly, hung his head to hide his face. "She is gone. She left you by her own choice."

"Only because I would not go with her," he said to the carpet. His hands lay perfectly still on his lap, except for his right forefinger, which twitched as he spoke.

"Tess," said Ilya in his most reasonable voice, "perhaps this is not your decision to make." Tess shot him a look filled with venom. He smiled, unruffled by her anger. "I suggest you allow Anatoly to address a letter to Diana, to ask her."

"That could take months!" Tess objected. "A year! More!"

"If Anatoly is willing to wait," said Ilya, "then I see no reason a letter should not be sent."

Anatoly's head jerked up. A light sparked in him, and Sonia realized that the coldness stemmed not from lack pf feeling but from too much feeling. She had thought it the mark of a new-found cruelty. Now she thought he was just in pain. "I am willing," he said hoarsely, and Mother Sakhalin aged ten years in that moment.

Tess stewed. "Very well," she said finally. "You may tell me what words you wish to write to Diana, Anatoly. I will write them myself and I will send the letter. But if she says she does not want you, then you must agree to consider yourself a widower and abide by my wishes."

"Very well," he echoed meekly. He paused. "What are your wishes?"

She contemplated him a moment, and Sonia could see that Tess found this changed Anatoly a bit puzzling, as if he was both more, and less, than she expected. "I wish you to marry a Jedan noblewoman and together with her act as regents in Jeds under our suzerainty."

At these words, Mother Sakhalin rallied. "It would be a good marriage, Anatoly," she said firmly. "And a proper position for you. And for the tribe."

The light still burned in Anatoly's face, but it was as if it had been shuttered by glass now. "It would be a good marriage," he agreed in a soft voice. "And one due my position. But how can I know what to think of Jeds if I have never been there? Perhaps I would rather ride with the army instead."

Well! Anatoly had certainly learned something from his grandmother. He had learned how to negotiate. In time, Sonia thought, he might surpass even Yaroslav Sakhalin as a general.

Tess considered. Ilya settled his chin on a fist and watched her, a trifle bemused by a negotiation going on in which he had no real say.

"So be it, then," said Tess finally. "I will send you to Niko in Jeds. You can carry the letter that far and give it to Dr. Hierakis, who will see that it is put on a ship to Erthe. You already speak some Rhuian. Now you can see how the khaja rule there, and you can learn how to live among them and guard our interests."

Anatoly inclined his head obediently. "As you command."

Mother Sakhalin did not look happy, but she looked satisfied.

"Come back this evening," said Tess to the young man, "and I will write the letter for you."

He nodded, and he and his grandmother took their leave.

"You terrify me, my wife," said Ilya. "I am relieved that you are my ally and not my enemy."

Tess still looked angry, but she laughed curtly. "How like Charles I am," she murmured, "to push him toward an end which I have already devised."

"Anatoly is no fool," said Sonia. "He will do what is best for the Sakhalin tribe."

"No doubt," said Ilya dryly, "he will do what his grandmother wishes. But what will you do, Tess, if Diana asks him to come to her?"

But already Tess's anger had subsided into an odd ruefulness. "She won't," said Tess with such certainty that even Sonia was taken aback. Ah, well. Tess's heart might belong to the jaran, but her soul would always remain khaja.

Sonia rose and shook out her skirts. "Come, Tess. If you can manage to leave your husband for a moment, I thought we might just walk through camp for a little while, so you can see everyone again. They all want to greet you."

"I will languish here until your return," said Ilya with a smile. He looked more at ease than he had for-well, for years, really-but there was still an edge on him beyond the pure, stark vision that drove him on.

"I brought him six books," said Tess to Sonia as they walked away.

"Six!" But Tess was prince now. No wonder she possessed such riches.

"And four books for you. And three colloquies for the children."

This bounty struck Sonia to silence. They walked together through the sprawl of the camp, greeting children, women, and men, all the members of the Orzhekov camp.

"Aleksi says that a zayinu holy woman came from across the seas to Jeds," said Sonia at last. "That she wears heavy veils, since it is a grave offense to her gods if folk like us look upon her. Is that true? Why would a zayinu holy woman come to you, Tess? Especially if your brother wars against her kind?"

"Her own people sent her into exile. I wanted to bring her with me here, because there is much much more she can teach me, but-" She faltered. A fire lived in Tess as well, Sonia knew, a fire kindled out of a desire to seek and to know, a kind of discontent that wore away at her constantly as if she feared that too much contentment might kill her own seeking spirit. "But that will have to wait. I thought it better to leave her with Cara in Jeds. For now."

"You and Uya are very like, you know," mused Sonia. "I saw that long ago, when you first came to us."

"You have a wise soul, Sonia, just as your brother did."

Sonia pressed a hand over her heart. She smiled sadly. "I am sure the gods will send him back to us, Tess." They walked a little while in silence. But Sonia had a restless, inquisitive spirit as well. "Ilya plans to call a great meeting of tribes," she said after a while. "Do you know what he is about?"

"Yes." Tess shaded a hand to stare up at the sky, toward the sun, and her mouth turned down. She was troubled.

"And you won't tell me!

"You must ask Ilya."

"I have asked Ilya. He is certainly no more maddening than you are!"

"I beg your pardon," said Tess with a laugh.

Sonia stopped suddenly, overwhelmed by a feeling of great contentment. Knowing, too, that because she was not afraid of contentment, she could embrace it. "I'm so glad you came back to us."

"Where else would I go?" Tess asked quietly.

Where else, indeed? Ann in arm, they walked on together.