“I didn’t realize there was a rush on,” said Talon, now comfortable with the idiomatic Roldemish he was being told to use almost exclusively.
“There’s always a rush on,” she snapped.
Following her up the hill, Talon asked, “Why did you come down to meet me?’’
“Kendrick said I was to find you and tell you you’d be serving again tonight in the dining room.” She wore a shawl of drab green, which she gathered tightly around her shoulders as she walked before him. The days were growing cold and the nights colder; autumn was turning to winter, and soon snow would come. “There’s a caravan from Ordon to Farinda staying over tonight, and it seems there’s someone important traveling with it. So, Lela and I are assigned to the common room with Lars, and you and Gibbs to the dining room.’’
“You could have waited until I got back to the kitchen to tell me that,” Talon observed.
“When I’m told to do something, I do it at once,” she snapped. She picked up her pace, hurrying on ahead. Talon watched her stiff back as she walked in front of him. Something struck him odd for a moment, then he realized what it was; he liked the way her hips moved as she climbed the hill. He felt that same strange stirring in his stomach he often felt when he was alone with Lela and wondered about that. He didn’t particularly like Meggie, but suddenly he found himself thinking of the way her nose turned up at the tip, and how on those very rare occasions she smiled at something, she got tiny lines—crinkles Lela called them—at the corners of her eyes.
He knew that something had passed between Meggie and Lars for a while, but that for some reason they were barely speaking to one another now, while everyone spoke with Lela. He pushed away his discomfort. He knew what passed between men and women—his people were open enough about sex, and he had seen many women naked at the bathing pool when he was still a child—yet the actual fact of being close to a young woman caused him much distress. And these people were not Orosini—they were outlandish—though after an instant’s further thought he had to concede that now he was the outlander. He did not know their rituals, but they seemed to make free with their bodies before they were pledged. Then he realized that he didn’t even know if they did pledge. Perhaps they didn’t have marriage like the Orosini at all.
Kendrick had no wife as far as Talon was aware. Leo was married to the heavy woman, Martha, who oversaw the baking, but they were from some distant place called Ylith. Perhaps here in Latagore men and women lived apart, only . . . he shook his head as they reached the outer gate to the stabling yard. He didn’t know what to think. He resolved to speak of this with Robert should the opportunity arise.
He noticed that Meggie was standing in the porch, waiting for him. “Fill the barrels,” she instructed.
Softly he said, “I know what to do.’’
“Oh, do you?” she returned, her meaning obscure.
As she turned to hold the door open, he waited, then moved past her. As she closed the door behind him, he put down the large buckets of water and said, “Meggie?”
“What?” she said, turning to face him, her face set in a half frown.
“Why do you dislike me?’’
The openness of the question took her aback. She stood speechless for a moment, then brushed past him, her voice soft as she said, “Who said I didn’t like you?’’
Before he could answer, she was gone from the kitchen. He picked up the buckets and carried them to the water barrels. He really didn’t understand these people.
After dinner that night, Talon sought out Robert, who stayed in a room at the back of the inn, on the first floor. He knew he had a life-debt to this man. He knew that until he was released from that debt, he would served Robert de Lyis for the rest of his life, or until such time as he saved Robert’s life. But he was uncertain as to the plans Robert had for him. He had been numb with grief and overwhelmed by the changes in his life since Midsummer, but now with winter fast approaching, he had come to think about the future more and wonder what his fate would be after the spring came, and the next summer was upon him.
He hesitated before the door; he had never intruded upon Robert’s privacy before, and did not even know if such an approach was permitted. He took a breath, then knocked lightly.
“Come in.’’
He slowly opened the door and leaned in. “Sir, may I speak with you?’’
Robert’s room contained only four items of furnishings: a bed, a chest for his clothing, a small table, and a stool. He sat upon the stool in front of the table, consulting a large object, which appeared to Talon to be many parchments bound together. Next to it rested a candle, the room’s only illumination. A water basin and a pitcher indicated the table’s other function when Robert was not using it for his work.
“Come in and close the door.’’
Talon did so and stood awkwardly before Robert. “Is it permitted?” he asked at last.
“Is what permitted?”