light and cool on his bare skin. He waited until she had finished securing the bandage then, before she took her hands away, caught one and pressed it firmly against his chest.
For the first time since they had been alone again, she raised her eyes to his. “Commander,” she said, evenly. “You’ve been injured. I would recommend that you go to bed immediately and rest, to help the wound heal. I should make sure that my husband also gets safely to bed. It is my duty, however, to check on your progress later.”
She turned away and tidied the medical instruments and materials as he pulled on his tunic and breastplate, and left her with a full sweeping bow.
The door hummed. It was a tiny noise, but Jay rolled over immediately as if it were a fire alarm and stared at the silhouette in the open crack.
He had been lying awake in a trance of anticipation, holding rational thought carefully just out of reach. He did not want to think about the danger, or dwell on the fact that of all the women on Car’a’vil, this was the one he should leave alone.
As the door slid shut, she became a shadow in the moonlight.
He sat up and passed his hand over the bedside light, casting a very faint glow over the room. She was still fully dressed, though it was the deepest quarter of the night, and she appeared to be hesitating as she stood against the door. He swung off the bed and went close to her. She was ice, not crystal, and he could melt her.
“As I promised, Commander – I’ve come to see how you are.” Her voice was low and steady.
“I think I’ll survive the night. But perhaps you’d better take a closer look.” He stood absolutely still, close enough for her to feel his heat but not reaching out to her. Since she was here under her own volition, at a time of her choosing, he was suddenly determined to make her touch him first, and he could feel his heart thudding with excitement at the novelty. It was a very long time indeed since a woman had come to him.
After a few moments of immobile silence, she unfastened the catch on the shoulder of his nightshift and pulled it gently open to expose the site of the wound. She stopped, she let her hand fall away, and her eyes flicked up to meet his. He saw fear in her expression, mingled – again – with determination.
It was no longer a good idea to allow her time to think, or to talk. Abandoning all delicacy, he grabbed hold of her and kissed every patch of bare skin he could find. Soon, it was all of her.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Of course.” How could she think otherwise?
“How often?”
“I don’t remember.”
She exhaled slightly, not quite a sigh. “How have you managed it?”
“I’m careful.”
“The other women… who were they?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“I don’t mean their names. I mean – what kind of women were they? Were they servants?”
“Some, yes. Not all.”
She was gazing at the ceiling, detached from him.
Women were inclined to be interrogative and he had noticed that they got petulant when he resisted their probing. There was only one really effective way to deflect the problem, even though he was now sleepy and irritated.
There was no sensation to compare with the silken warmth of a woman’s body; just to hold it all against him was worth the danger, even with the hungry fire doused. As he kissed her to stop her talking, desire stirred again almost painfully. He recognised the beginning of that glorious state of intoxication, when senses were sharpened and nothing more than a look or a brush of her fingers would set the air ablaze. It certainly did not always happen, but while it lasted it was exhilarating.
And she would almost certainly feel it too, if not now then soon. In the white heat of his own passion he could not accurately remember whether she had enjoyed the first time. Now, he held back and made sure that she did. It was a particular kind of satisfaction to make the cool and dignified Lady of Car’a’vil cry and thrash, helpless against a relentless assault.
Afterwards, there were no more questions. He fell into a heavy sleep with her curled up in his arms and when he awoke, in bright daylight, she had gone.
He dealt with Saghat first.
The cells were down in the deepest part of the castle, buried into the hillside. They were more commonly used to incarcerate wrongdoers from the town and its environs while they were awaiting trial, and there was a detachment of the army dedicated to guarding and handling prisoners.
The captain of the guard led him down to the holding cell where Saghat was slumped on a wooden bench, his arm over his eyes. He reacted to Jay’s arrival by rolling over and turning his face to the wall.
“Lord Carral has instructed me to release you,” said Jay, stonily. “I have to say I’m reluctant to do that.”
The captain bowed and left them alone.
Saghat did not respond.
“Since it was an order, I’m bound to obey. However, listen to this, Saghat. If you drink glyn juice once more while I’m Commander of Car’a’vil, I will lodge an official report with General Neveth. Do you understand?”
To Jay’s intense annoyance, Saghat still said nothing. He decided not to force a response, but said to the captain – who was lurking respectfully in the corridor just outside, “Set him free, and tell him he’s due to take the cadet class in half an hour.”
Next, he sought out Paril.
Paril had not appeared at breakfast but was in the armoury alone, polishing weapons. It was a servant’s job, unnecessary. When he became aware of Jay’s presence he clattered the sword aside and stood to attention, his head bowed and his expression stricken.
“In Lonn’s name, Captain. At ease.”
Paril slumped, though anyone less at ease would be harder to imagine. There was a noticeable bruise along the line of his jaw where Jay’s blow had landed.
Deliberately, Jay sat on the bench opposite.
“Sir,” Paril stammered, “I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for the shameful way I behaved last night – and for failing to protect Mareil. I was coming to see you – I meant to – I feel ashamed that you had to find me first. I’ve already spoken to Mareil, we’re going to break off our betrothal.”
“Come on now, that’s entirely unnecessary.”
“I behaved with gross dishonour –“
“Did she put up a fight?”
“No… but she’d drunk so much glyn juice, she didn’t know what she was doing. But I did. It’s never – had very much of an effect on me, sir. You notice that - some people fall over, some go almost mad, some - don’t change much. I could still think straight and I knew what I was doing was wrong, I just couldn’t help myself. She deserves so much better than that. What if it happened again – what if you hadn’t been there? How can I risk bringing that kind of shame onto her? If we dissolve the engagement, she can find someone else, someone worthy of her.”
“Captain, I’m going to give you an order and I expect you to obey immediately and without question.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go back to wherever you left Mareil and tell her that the wedding will be on the day of the spring solstice, by order of Commander Jhaval. Get all the preparations done between now and then however much time you have to spend on them. Go on, now.”
Paril, who had not sat down during this interview, looked for a moment as if he was going to disobey and question the order. Instead, he bowed briskly and half-ran on his way out of the armoury.
Jay leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, disoriented. It was one of those occasional moments of acute awareness, when he knew he was standing outside the world and could feel how cold it was.
Seven
There was still a thin cold wind blowing, though the sun was now shining, as Paril and Mareil crossed their swords together. The priest raised his hand to pronounce the union final, and all the months of preparation – all the trials of temptation – were brought to a safe conclusion.
&nb
sp; The wedding was held in the castle foreground, which was chilly but necessary because it meant that the priests did not have to enter the grounds of the castle itself. As soon as the ceremony was over the priests filed away silently, without acknowledging anyone, and began their descent down the hill to the village in a cloaked line. The swordbearers ignored their departure and crowded round the happy couple, lifting them bodily down from the raised platform.
Jay was the only one who watched the priests go. Caste warfare, the ancient bugbear of civilisation, was not as far in the past as those in the Court and the Capital imagined. His experience of living as three different castes had given him an insight that was probably unique, though it was one of no use whatsoever on Car’a’vil.
Paril was married now. That gave him an authentic patina of manhood which would harden, no doubt, over the coming year. It would not be too long before Carral realised that his boy cousin was getting old enough to take over command, and it might be a good idea to encourage this conclusion. Jay did not know if he was prepared to face another winter on the edge of the world.
The face of General Neveth on the viewscreen was broken with static. Car’a’vil must be the last place in the Empire, he thought, to rely on an old-fashioned satellite connection for all its communication links.
“All the reports I’ve had of your work have been excellent, Jhaval,” said the general. “I get the impression that Carral would be very reluctant to let you go.”
“I’m honoured that