| |
TAMARYL CAME GENTLY to the ground, his wings stretching pleasantly as they flexed against the air. It was good to be himself again, his own Ryuven form. A warm breeze brushed over him, welcoming him from the cold human world.
His first duty was to report to the Palace of Red Sands. He had stayed longer in the human world than expected, and he should explain himself. He must also find a way to break the news that the shield was renewed. After Oniwe’aru had finished being disappointed in him, Tamaryl would go to his house and see how Maru fared, and whether Daranai’rika had thought to bring formal complaint against him for breaking their betrothal contract.
He sighed. There was much to do here, so far to go, but in the end, this was his home. He could do good here. He’d studied what he could find of human agriculture, wrestling with books on crop diseases and treatment in his hours away from assisting Ewan Hazelrig. Their flora was not identical, but there were similarities and shared species, and he hoped for new insight on the problems which had led to so much. They could work away from their dependence on the human world.
He folded his wings against his back and started toward the palace. The guards knew him and directed him to the aru.
Tamaryl entered Oniwe’aru’s audience chamber and dropped to one knee. “I have returned, Oniwe’aru.”
“So I see. I had expected you before now.”
“I apologize, Oniwe’aru. I wanted only to be sure that there was nothing more to be done.”
He had evidently interrupted a conversation. A rika stood near Oniwe’aru. Her emerald-black hair was bound in a high tail which dragged over her wing and shoulder as she turned her head toward Tamaryl. He recognized her, and the cobalt sash she wore from right shoulder to opposite hip.
Oniwe’aru nodded. “At least you are taking your duties seriously. Edeiya’rika, you will pardon us?”
“Of course, Oniwe’aru. And I will set more guards on the storehouses.” Her eyes flicked to Tamaryl as she left, as if assessing him. Given the sash she wore, she might well have been. Tamaryl would have nodded respectfully to her had he not already been on one knee.
“Rise, Tamaryl’sho, and tell me why your steward begged so politely to decline on your behalf my invitation for you and Daranai’rika to dine with me.”
Tamaryl’s chest tightened. “Ah. Er, I’m afraid I am not sure how best to explain... I wish to break our betrothal.”
“Break it?” Oniwe’aru frowned. “That is a significant step, especially after so many years.”
“I was not here for most of those years.”
“All the more reason to be cautious now. You left her in contract, locked in a partnership without a partner, unable to negotiate a new joining. Even when her house faltered, even when her aunt died, she did not ask to be freed of the contract which could not be completed with you in exile.”
“She wanted the position of a prince-doniphan’s mate more than the prince-doniphan,” Tamaryl snapped.
Oniwe raised an eyebrow. “I remember once you were pleased.”
“I was. I was glad such a beautiful and vivacious match was chosen for me. I could do far worse.” Tamaryl took a breath. “But I have seen what she is, and I won’t be joined to her.”
“Strong words, Tamaryl’sho.” Oniwe’aru scratched at his chin.
Tamaryl had to be careful how he presented his complaint. Ending a betrothal severed a link both familial and political, and discipline of a nim was hardly a crime, even if the nim was Tamaryl’s friend. “She is unhappy in this betrothal, and cruel in her unhappiness. She has taken nim as lovers, and against their will.”
“There are many nim who would not argue at the chance to share a rika’s bed.”
“That may be true, but those who did protest were coerced into acceptance.”
“What did she do to your friend?”
Oniwe saw so clearly through him. “He would not lie with her, and she tortured him for it.”
Oniwe’aru frowned. “As I recall, you left him in her household while you were away, and she has the right to discipline a servant.”
“Not for refusing to bed his lord’s betrothed. And it was not the typical minute or so of fup; she was stripping his power from him.”
“I did the same to you, if you recall.”
“I was a condemned outlaw. You were quick and efficient about it—not that it was pleasant, and by the Essence I would be pleased never to taste it again, but it was different. This was a slow process, intended to force him into submission.” Tamaryl tried to keep his voice level. “At first she lied, saying he’d assaulted her, but—”
Oniwe’aru snorted. “Maru, attack a rika? Not at his most foolhardy, and never successfully.”
Tamaryl was relieved at his agreement. “She blamed me and my absence. She resented me and—and you. I think she might be as glad to be done with me.”
“Oh?”
“She called herself the traitor’s betrothed. She was caught between position and notoriety.” Tamaryl was unwilling to defend Daranai’s actions but obligated to express her frustration. And if he emphasized that the engagement should have been long ended, perhaps it would be simpler to end it now. “I know my duty, but I cannot condone her taking lovers by force. Nor one bound in service, which is too near force.”
Oniwe blew out a long breath. “Daranai’rika was not often present at court, though I heard of her frequently. I had thought—well, I was wrong, I see.” He eyed Tamaryl. “But you won’t repeat that, will you?”
Tamaryl tried to gauge the ruler’s humor. “I will forget your confession the moment my betrothal is dissolved.”
Oniwe’aru gave a small chuckle. “Bravely spoken.” He drummed his fingers absently. “But the law allows. You are certain she wants to be free of you as well?”
“I do not know. She may not know herself. I believe she wants to be matched to someone, especially someone with privilege, but whether she favors me over another is uncertain.”
Oniwe’aru nodded. “I will speak to her.”
“I am afraid she will not have kind words for me.”
“I am not interested in her kind words,” Oniwe’aru answered shortly. “I am interested in whether she wishes this betrothal ended.” He looked frustrated. “With the deaths of her aunt and father, she became less of a political benefit. If she is unhappy with you and you with her, there is no reason to pursue this.”
Tamaryl felt relief, mixed with a faint fear that Daranai might refuse only to spite him and retain the powerful association of his house.
Oniwe’aru sighed. “I wish she had said something to me before now. Or you, Tamaryl’sho. You never led me to believe you might want someone other than her.”
Tamaryl eyed the floor. It had never occurred to him that he might, either. He had always known that he would conjoin for the good of the court and clan, and he had never considered an alternative.
Oniwe’aru gestured toward the open doorway. “You know Edeiya’rika?”
“By reputation, and briefly—long ago—but not well.”
Oniwe’aru raised a significant eyebrow. “You should. She will likely be Edeiya’silth in the future.” The leader of the Ai.
“I see she is Tsuraiya ni’Ai now.” The cobalt sash marked a hard-won prestige, one that would be useful to carry her to the head of the Ai.
“Indeed, and most respected in that role.”
Tamaryl considered his next words. “While conjoining the Pairvyn with the Tsuraiya, who may become silth, would indeed be a coup, I observe that entering a new betrothal just as one is dissolved might be—”
Oniwe’aru laughed. “Be at ease! Even I wouldn’t throw you into a match so abruptly. And Edeiya’rika takes her duty very seriously; I doubt she would accept a mate tainted by humans.”
Tamaryl frowned. “I am not so corrupted as that.”
“You might explain that to her,” Oniwe replied, chuckling, “but not near my fragile valuables, if you please.”
Tamaryl sighed. He had known he would be doubted. It would pass. Eventually.
Regaining his abandoned position had not been simple, and Oniwe’s assignments were a simultaneous punishment for his long-ago treason and probe for his present loyalties and abilities. But they had been necessary and practical tasks, Tamaryl admitted. Oniwe was not wasting him in petty make-work, and Tamaryl could be proud of what he’d done since his return.
He was less proud of what he must do next, but it was necessary for the welfare of his struggling people.
“Oniwe’aru, I have brought something more from the human world.”