went to a café and ordered a mug of the locally brewed
cider. I asked the proprietor if he had writing implements, and he
gave me a pen and some ink. I sat outside in the garden at the back
of the café and wrote upon my parcel: Jassenah har Jesith, Lyonis.
I hoped I had just enough money left to send it to him.
The mail
bureau wasn’t very busy that day. I asked how long it would take
for the package to reach Jesith and the clerk replied, ‘A despatch
to the south goes out in two days. Given the route, it can take up
to a month for items to reach their destination, but it’s often
sooner than that. Depends what the rider has to deliver and
where.’
I was
pleased to discover that quite a lot of mail was scheduled for the
south; this meant that the clerk was happy to charge me a pittance
for my small delivery. ‘There’s a pile going to Jesith,’ he said.
‘As you must know, quite a lot of communication passes between here
and there.’
I hadn’t
known that, but looked upon it as a fortunate
circumstance.
I had
considered whether I should write a letter to Jassenah, but somehow
I couldn’t find the heart to do it. I’d considered sending the
package anonymously, but then on impulse, before I finally handed
it over to the mail clerk, I asked for a pen and wrote ‘from
Gesaril, Kyme’ on the back. I hoped the gesture of the exquisite
little box and its pure sparkling contents would imply what I
wanted it to imply.
Huriel
was pleased with me, and didn’t question why I’d been out for most
of the day. Perhaps he thought I’d spent all that time with
Malakess. As the afternoon faded into evening, I began to feel
uncomfortable about the package I’d sent to Jassenah. Was I sending
it to him merely to maintain some kind of contact, no matter how
tenuous, with Ysobi? My mind said not, but I wasn’t sure it could
be trusted. I even considered going to the mail bureau in the
morning to retrieve the package. But in the end I decided to let it
go. I would deliver it into the hands of fate. Jassenah might throw
my gift into the nearest pond, for all I knew.
Pelfazzarsday, Ardourmoon 8
An
invitation has come. How could he? I can’t write any more
today.
Lunilsday, Ardourmoon 9
So, this
is what happened yesterday…
A
function was being held at the Academy, in honour of a visiting
delegation of Nagini, hara from a hot country far to the east.
Malakess was invited to this party, naturally, and had sent me an
invitation asking if I’d accompany him. Clearly, Huriel expected me
to react with surprise and pleasure to the invitation, but honestly
I felt sick and disappointed. I’d believed Malakess had understood
and respected me; he’d seemed like the impartial teacher that Ysobi
had never been. But then this. While Huriel enthused about what a
privilege this was for me, I sat there in silence, staring at the
note, thinking differently. All the time while we’d been speaking,
Malakess had been like any other har and had wanted me. That’s what
this was all about. As if he cared about whether or not I met
dignitaries from a foreign land. He wanted me on his arm, no doubt,
to show off to his colleagues, and then later he’d expect me to
swoon into his bed. It was tiresomely predictable.
‘ What’s the matter?’ Huriel asked, his excitement punctured by
the fact I wasn’t sharing it.
I
shrugged. ‘Well… I just didn’t expect this.’
‘ It’s an amazing opportunity,’ Huriel said. ‘Not just anyhar
gets invited to Academy functions, you know. I haven’t been asked
to this one! And the hara from the Nagini are extremely
high-ranking. Imagine what tales they’ll have to tell. We know so
little of what goes on in other lands.’
‘ I haven’t been invited,’ I said. ‘Malakess just had an invite
for himself and a companion.’
‘ So what?’ Huriel paused and frowned. ‘I thought everything
was fine between you and Kess now.’
‘ It is… well I thought it was. Why