The Towers of the Sunset - L. E. Modesitt [93]
“Do you affirm your dedication to each other and to a higher order?”
Creslin swallows before responding, “I do.”
Megaera’s voice is so low as to be nearly indistinguishable. “If possible, darkness willing.”
The Duke smothers a frown. “Then, in the presence of the order that must be created and recreated daily, and under the light of ever-present chaos, I affirm the bonds of this higher unity and the dedication of two souls unto order and unto each other.”
Creslin realizes that he must make some gesture and that Megaera has not moved toward him.
“At least kiss her cheek,” whispers the Duke.
That Creslin can do, and he does, gently, leaning toward her. But his lips come away damp from the tears that stream from her eyes.
“. . . so beautiful”
“. . . even his silver hair seems right.”
Creslin ignores the whispers and offers his arm. This time Megaera takes it, and her head remains high as they walk back toward the doors, past those few individuals comprising the Duke’s private household. Past the stocky serving maid in blue and cream, who weeps unrestrainedly, and not from happiness.
He presses his lips and keeps walking, ignoring the burning in his eyes.
LVI
“YOU SHOULD HAVE at least one maid, your grace,” ventures the black-haired girl. “You are a sub-Tyrant and a regent.”
“On my wedding trip?” The laugh that follows breaks between harshness and sorrow. “Do you think that best-betrothed would wish you looking on?”
The girl’s eyes stray toward the saddlebags on the floor.
Megaera takes a last sip from the cup. “Why . . . why did I ever . . .” She pauses. “Aldonya . . .”
“Yes?”
“I have arranged it with Korweil and Helisse. You may remain in their service as long as you wish. It’s not an indenture. You may leave at any time.”
“Your grace is kind, but I would rather go with you.”
“To Recluce? To that desert island?” Megaera’s eyes rest upon the gentle swelling of the girl’s belly. “Reduce is no place to have a child.”
“Your grace—”
“Aldonya, if you still feel this way, and if you and the child are healthy, and if I am still . . . able to help, then you may follow me to Recluce. Korweil will make the arrangements.”
The faintest of smiles flits across the young woman’s face. “You are kind. If only Creslin could see that.”
“I’m not kind. He knows that. Sometimes I wish I were.” Megaera raises her arms and lets the sleeves fall away from the white scars. “These don’t let me forget. Being a woman and without power . . .”
The young woman smiles again. “I think he is good at heart. And he could love you.”
“Probably, but good at heart isn’t always good in word or deed.” The redhead looks out the window into the early morning shadows cast by the castle’s eastern walls. “Sister dear . . . she taught me that long ago.”
Aldonya’s smile fades as she notes the sadness in the redhead’s eyes.
LVII
“HE’S IN THE Duke’s keep at Vergren,” Hartor tells the High Wizard.
“How do you know? Your usual sources?”
The heavy man grins across the table. “Gold sometimes works better than chaos or order. Korweil is as nervous as an unfledged vulcrow.”
The High Wizard nods knowingly. “I assume that you’re doing what you can to make the Duke even more nervous.”
“We did make sure that he knows about the Marshall’s recall of her troops in Suthya. Pointing out that Westwind comes first, always.”
“What about Creslin himself?”
“We’ve let it be known that he killed an entire bandit troop.”
“Don’t exaggerate, Hartor.”
“Well . . .” temporizes the heavy man. “Only one of the seven escaped, and Creslin apparently killed Frosee personally and took his horse.”
“You didn’t ever mention that.”
“We didn’t know it until after he escaped.”
“That brings up another question.” The High Wizard frowns. “What about the troop on the way into Montgren?”
“Was that his doing?”
“Probably not. I doubt that he’s mastered that level of work. It has to have been Klerris and that healer, Lydya. They got him out of the road camp. Both of them are gone, and Klerris fired his home—using oil, so there were some traces. Nothing useful, unfortunately,