Healers wedding, p.13
Healer's Wedding, page 13
“Therapy requires the consent of those involved,” Jahir replied, and though he remained composed, something about the way he spoke the words made her think there was a lot more there. Some memory, complicated but good. It softened his eyes. “But our world has not consented to Liolesa’s changes, my heart. That they’re necessary only makes the medicine more galling.”
Sediryl sighed. “Well, if we make the plots smaller it should still be do-able with an all-Eldritch crew. And I can fly a groundcar.”
“I think your plan will go over better thus. If Beth truly is parading through towns in a white gown…?” He paused. “Is she really, or is that exaggeration?”
“She really is,” Sediryl said dryly. “I had Maia direct a few satellite cameras at her and it’s ridiculous. There’s no way that procession wasn’t designed, Jahir. She’s trying to evoke pity and awe with her little ‘I’m in mourning and all alone’ charade.”
“God and Lady.”
“I wish my aunt would hurry up and arrest her,” Sediryl said. “Except she hasn’t done anything wrong. Yet.”
“Arresting her would polarize the situation.”
“Right. Which is why I’m not planning on letting her know what I’m doing, if I can help it. Beth, I mean.” Sediryl tapped the fingers of her free hand on her knee. “I’m going to come in behind her, to the villages she’s already visited. I want to be the last thing they remember, not her. Which brings me to… you, my love. Would you come? I’m bringing food, and everyone loves food. But some basic medical care would be even better.”
“I am not yet a licensed physician,” Jahir began.
“Lord Hirianthial tells me you already know more about chemistry and pharmacology than most healers,” Sediryl said. “He says the licensing is practically a formality in your case, and more about your confidence than theirs.”
Jahir started. “Sediryl! He did not say. And you did not ask!”
He was his own worst blind spot. Sediryl had confessed to finding it charming to Vasiht’h, who’d said he gave it about a year before it became frustrating. Since the Glaseah had said it with a fond smile, she hadn’t taken the prediction very seriously. “Of course I asked. I wanted to know. And Lord Hirianthial likes to talk about you. He’s proud of you, you know.”
“God and Lady,” Jahir murmured, flushing.
“You do know,” she pressed.
“Yes,” Jahir said. “And I like him as well, but as much as I respect him I cannot agree with his assessment. I am not a healer yet, Sediryl. I won’t pretend to be.”
“So don’t?” Sediryl said. “Come with me and do first aid. You can do first aid, right? And given the chemistry degree, you can hand out the sort of pills and patches and teas that people in the Alliance take for granted, without ever walking into a clinic.” In his hesitation she read his yearning, and it made something in her melt. “Please, Jahir. They need what you can give them, too. They need to hear that news. That they will be able to have babies without fear, and break bones without being laid up for weeks, and catch the flu without dying. Without dying, for Her sake.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, courtly. “You make a convincing argument.”
“You’ll come?” she asked, because she’d learned that he had a million ways of deflecting conversations from decisions he’d made that he didn’t want to argue about. She admired that skill, and wondered if a few centuries of marriage would teach it to her.
“I’d be honored to,” he answered, and she exhaled.
“Good. So… who else do you think we should bring? Or what?”
They spent a good half hour then, planning. She brought out her tablet with a map, and a calendar, and they sketched out a preliminary route, checked the weather to make sure their first few stops wouldn’t get rained out—hard to plant in a storm—and it was good. It even distracted her from the heat of his body alongside her… mostly.
“I’d call this a solid beginning,” Sediryl said. “And… we still have about an hour before we need to show. Since you’re not going to let me debauch you…”
He coughed, eyes sparkling.
“…I think I’d rather be in public company. I’ll go downstairs and see what your mother has planned for our next family dinner.”
“She is not alone in the kitchen… I believe Vasiht’h’s mother and sister are with her.”
“Oh good. That means there are cookies in the kitchen.” She rose, checked the panels of her gown, craned her head to look over her shoulder at the back.
“It’s fine,” Jahir assured her.
“Bother,” Sediryl answered, impish. “I was hoping it was crumpled over my rear so I could ask for assistance.”
He laughed. “Sediryl!”
“Can’t blame a girl for hoping.”
“No,” Jahir said, taking her hand. “That I certainly cannot.” As they headed toward the door, he added, “Do you suppose your father will ever come to dinner?”
“I don’t know,” Sediryl said, quiet. “But I plan to keep inviting him until he does.”
Laisrathera had developed a reputation for its hospitality and especially its parties, and this one was only going to add to the legend, Sediryl thought with admiration. The delegation had been due in orbit during night on the seaboard, where most of the Eldritch powers had their seats, but rather than insist on waiting for the following morning, Reese Eddings had said, “Tell them to come on down for dinner.”
Which had made it sound informal. But she and Jahir arrived to find the castle lit like something from a fairy story, with floating lights in warm golds shading to peach or white against a sky as clear and dark a blue as a cabochon sapphire. Laisrathera’s gardens, which had benefited from its Alliance landscapers, produced truly astonishing amounts of flowers, the perfumes of which were floating through the night air like incense; someone had gathered and trimmed hundreds of them for arrangements set along the path from the Pad outside the gates to the front doors, thrown open for the festivities. There was food too—she could smell it—but probably inside that bright hall, where musicians were tuning their instruments. Did Chatcaava like the same sort of music Eldritch did? Not something she’d ever thought to discuss with the Queen Ransomed, but then, they’d been preoccupied when they’d met.
She was grateful for the long walk from the Pad, since it gave her time to enjoy the preparations. From the murmurs behind her, her entourage found it just as worthy of commentary… though she was glad her guards—self-appointed and official—kept a sufficient distance that she could pretend she was alone with her fiancé. Her White Dirks were accommodating in that regard, but Qora and his Faulfenza did not observe alien social niceties unless it suited them.
Liolesa was already there, chatting with Reese and Fassiana in front of the doors. Mounting the steps, Sediryl called, “Oh, Reese, it’s beautiful!”
“The party crew outdid themselves, didn’t they?” Reese said. “I think they worked harder on this than they did on my wedding.”
“I heard that!” Irine called from in the hall.
“I expected you to, fuzzy!” Reese grinned. “Seriously. They’ve had practice, and the grounds are a little less of a mess than they were when I first got here.”
Lord Hirianthial, joining them, said, “There are even fireworks planned, I believe.”
“Fireworks!” Sediryl exclaimed.
“If we set them up properly,” Reese said. “I’ve never seen fireworks in person. Not something we had on my homeworld. But Taylor came up with the idea, and Bryer said it would be good to put some decorations in the sky, because fliers look up more than we do.”
“Can they fly here?” Sediryl wondered.
“They can,” the Lord of War said. “And we have lit the battlements for their comfort and safety.”
Which explained the beams of red light rising from each of the towers. She’d assumed them to be decorative. They still were, but she loved the easy way Laisrathera compensated for the needs of such a broad array of peoples. Sediryl didn’t expect that kind of heterogeneity in every Eldritch town, but the towns that hosted aliens should do it right. If not like this, then… in their own way. But like this.
She laughed at her thoughts and kissed Jahir’s hand. “I can tell you want to talk shop with the healer. Go and enjoy it before we have to do the pretty for a few hours.”
He cupped her jaw and held her still so he could rest his brow against hers, thrilling her. She treasured that: that he was willing to be affectionate with her in public. That his command over his powers made it less fraught for him. That they got to touch, because Goddess, if this is what minor touches felt like she couldn’t wait for more.
“Me neither,” he whispered, and kissed her chastely on the cheek before moving off to Lord Hirianthial’s side.
“My my,” Reese said with a grin as Sediryl joined the women. “Someone’s chafing at the bit.”
“Nicely done, Theresa!” Fassiana said. “A local metaphor, and perfectly employed.”
“Horses do grow on you,” Reese said. “Besides, all I’ve got for you is sympathy, Sediryl. Hirianthial made me wait too, and I was about ready to jump out of my skin by the time they wrapped our hands up.”
“They made up for lost time,” Irine said from behind them.
“Iriiiiiiine,” Reese said, dragging the word out with an exasperated smile. “Do you have to?”
Irine wrapped her arm around Reese’s and rested her chin on the woman’s shoulder, beaming. “Absolutely. It’s in the contract. All Harat-Shar are outrageous. Unless they decide not to be, because that’s totally their choice.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” Sediryl said. “Well, I mind waiting for myself, but I don’t mind because it makes him happy. He likes our traditions. One of us should.”
“Ouch!” Reese said. “That’s harsh.”
“But honest,” Sediryl said. “And I’m among friends, where I might safely be so.” She glanced around. “No one who hates what we’re about is likely to be here. Particularly for this.”
“No,” Liolesa said. “That they are not.” And then, flashing one of her mischievous smiles. “How I am looking forward to their attendance at the investiture!”
“You are a terror, Liolesa,” Fassiana said severely. “Have I said yet?”
“Many a time,” was the serene reply. “And I shall communicate to Araelis that you are standing in her stead admirably.”
“All right, no, that was the burn of the night,” Irine said, laughing.
Sediryl’s communications with Araelis, who was spending most of her time overseeing the construction on the new Eldritch colony of Chalice, had acquainted her with that woman’s fearless tongue. She could well imagine Araelis dressing Liolesa down, and hid her smile. Badly.
“She has you there, Lady,” Reese said to Fassiana, who sighed.
Jahir’s voice, low, brushed over the back of Sediryl’s neck. She hadn’t even heard him approach—he could be so quiet. “They’re come.”
She glanced behind her shoulder, found him standing, tense and attentive, and as much as she loved all the smoldering looks he shot her from beneath his lowered lashes, she loved these looks just as much. The way he loved, so completely and so differently. And this look…she hadn’t seen it in far too many months for her taste.
Reese touched her earring. “They’ve got the party at the Pad. Irine, tell everyone places. It’s showtime.”
“On it!” the tigraine said, and scampered.
“No substitute for good people,” Reese said.
“No, indeed,” Liolesa agreed. “Where do you want us, then, Laisrathera?”
“Right here, at the top of the stairs. Just.. um… arrange yourselves however you want. I’m not brave enough to take a stab at figuring it out myself.”
As the others shifted toward the stairs, Qora joined Sediryl. “It will be good to see the Queen again.”
“Yes,” Sediryl said. “I’ve missed her. I want to hear all the news, too, about how she’s settling in.”
“That makes three of us,” Maia murmured from the telegem. “And it would be nice to have that conversation somewhere I can have a body…!”
“No fears,” Sediryl said. “I believe Liolesa wants them to stay here.”
“Under the eyes of the best bodyguards on the world, eh?” Maia said.
Sediryl glanced at Hirianthial, who towered behind Reese, and Val, who’d arrived late if the way he was shifting his robes and shaking out his sleeves was any indication. In the weeks after she’d met them, she’d made it her business to get as clear an account of their actions during the short-lived civil war as possible. It had been Araelis, in fact, who’d told her about the final battle in the throne room… and there had been any number of eye witnesses for Hirianthial’s other feats. “Even if anyone could get past Lisinthir, they’re not going to manage those two, no.”
“Hey, Sediryl!” Reese said. “Get in line!”
The first bell startled Sediryl into motion. As she took her place alongside Liolesa, another sang out, and another, until a chorus of them rang out to welcome the party now visible at the end of the path. Her breath jumped in her throat, for while she recognized the handbells Eldritch used to ring in the new year, she could think of only one reason Reese might have used them now. “How did you know?” she whispered.
“We do our research,” Reese whispered back. “Watch.”
Accordingly, Sediryl laced her hands in front of herself and waited as the procession approached…and a grand showing they made. The Queen Ransomed came first, dressed in a silver and white and orange robe that included embroidered panels draped from her arched wings. Beside her and a little behind was their cousin Lisinthir, once Nase Galare and now Lauvet Imthereli and whatever extra family name he’d acquired by becoming the consort of an emperor. Behind them, an entire entourage of Chatcaava; at least thirty, Sediryl thought, in varied dress. Some looked like courtiers, others guards, and at least one or two of them might have been priests.
As they drew closer, the bellringers stepped out of the dark to line the path, and Sediryl gasped in… because if Reese hadn’t found every child in Laisrathera, she must have come close.
“We’ve never had the Chatcaavan Breath visit,” Reese murmured. “We had to do it right.”
“It’s perfect,” Jahir said from behind Sediryl, his voice gentle and a little distracted. “And she is honored.”
The delegation came to a halt in an arc around their Queen, leaving her to advance with Lisinthir at her side, both dressed in white: one dragon, petite, her silver skin burnished by the warm lights, and one Eldritch, urbane and elegant in his pale coat. A few paces from the steps, he stopped, leaving her to go on alone until she stood in the center of all their attentions, and oh, how she belonged there. “Empress Liolesa. We come on behalf of the Chatcaavan Empire, to do honor to your heirs at their wedding and investiture. The well-wishes of our Empire, and our Emperor, come with us on the wind of the Living Air.”
“Queen Ransomed, and Breath of the Living Air, we welcome you, we grant you hospitality, and we accept your well-wishes.” Liolesa smiled. “And may I say how good it is to have you.”
Which had to do for protocol, because they were among friends, and had planned it so. Sediryl broke from the line to rush down the stairs and hug the Queen, who made a noise and pressed her narrow head against Sediryl’s shoulder. “Hello, sister!” the Chatcaavan said. “How well you look!”
“Not half so well as you!” Sediryl exclaimed, leaning back to look down into the other woman’s face. “Goodness, you’re glowing. The married life of power agreeing with you?”
The Chatcaavan touched her fingers to her nose, failing to hide her smile. “Oh my! Yes! Very much so.” She glanced at Lisinthir. “You know my consort, of course. But I should introduce you to my retinue.”
“Yes, absolutely,” Sediryl said, stealing one more hug. “And we must eat and talk. Everything’s been arranged for your comfort and safety. You’re among friends here. We’ve made sure of it.”
“That is well, as I have brought only friends.”
“Then let’s not waste time!”
They fell into step alongside one another as the women climbed the stairs to Liolesa, and Jahir’s shoulders relaxed. One year apart was not enough to forget the habit of being at Lisinthir’s side. How simple it was, and how right.
/My dear,/ Lisinthir murmured, the mental touch a caress.
/My-better,/ Jahir answered, and could use the mindtouch to wreath the Chatcaavan word with Eldritch gold and holy white, and did.
Lisinthir glanced at him, just a flick of his eyes to one side, and smiled. “Later for you,” he said beneath his breath in Chatcaavan.
“I look forward to it,” Jahir answered, demure, and found the surge of his cousin’s amusement reward enough.
Jahir had suffered a sufficiency of Eldritch court functions, so Laisrathera’s notion of how one should be conducted was a delightful surprise. The greeting at the door was enough formality for Reese Eddings and her people, Eldritch and alien both; once they were into the hall, they were quit of it, for while the tables holding the food were all that was elegance with their linen skirts and flower-festooned risers, they were set alongside rows of trestle tables, and it was as permissible to go for seconds oneself as it was to accept the aid of the handful of Pelted waitstaff. The Queen Ransomed introduced her retinue: her personal vassal, the Twelveworld Lord and his Attendant; her new Knife, head of her security; a priest and priestess of the Living Air and several civil servants, some of whom were even female; and the rest guards, to lend her countenance. Jahir thought her glorious… this woman he had met in the Pattern when neither of them had been sure they would live. How alive she was now!
After dinner, the group moved into the courtyard to watch the fireworks, choreographed with music and projected holographs of abstract fliers that danced amid the explosions, blooming in white and red and gold, tinted blue or green. The Chatcaava were enchanted, from beginning to end, and seemed happy to be settled in Laisrathera for the evening.
