Read Online The Plains of Kallanash by Pauline M. Ross - Free Book Online
Authors: Pauline M. Ross
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proper respect. She shrugged out of her tunic and trousers, tossing them over a chair, and pulled the silk gown over her head. It was such a delicate fabric, she almost felt naked. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and waited. She heard Jonnor’s heavy tread on the stairs, crossing the atrium, entering his own room. There was silence for a long time.
After a while, she got up and hung her discarded clothes in one of the wardrobes. She waited again. Eventually, she realised she was shivering so she got into bed.
It must have been the best part of an hour before he came, although the bells had stopped so it was hard to tell. He had a wine goblet in one hand and a half-full decanter in the other. He stopped dead as he came into the room and gazed about, a bewildered expression on his face.
~~~
As soon as she went downstairs the next morning, she found Hurst waiting, sitting at the table pretending to read. He realised at once that something was wrong.
“Whatever happened?” he said, leaping up and putting gentle arms about her. To her shame, she wept, pressing her face into his broad shoulder. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, oh no. But… nothing happened. He sat on the window seat for an age, just crying. Then he left.”
“Oh.”
“It’s too soon. Too soon after Tella’s death. It’s the room – it’s more or less exactly as she left it, and… and it distresses him, naturally.”
Hurst made soothing noises and stroked her hair, and she was comforted, a little.
“You could use the other bedroom, I suppose,” he said.
“Oh no, that wouldn’t do!” Mia said. “The rooms are marked for the lead and second, it’s tradition. It wouldn’t be right to do things differently.” She sighed. “I can move the furniture round a bit, perhaps.”
Not long afterwards, Jonnor came down, stony-faced. They went downstairs for the communion ceremony, and nothing more was said.
Mia’s distress evaporated sooner than she had expected. Jonnor’s grief gave her an easy explanation for his reluctance. She had bided her time for ten years, and could wait a little longer. She was not lively or beautiful like Tella, so Jonnor was bound to find her less desirable. Each night she hoped he would come to her, and each night she was a little less surprised when he didn't. Then she had the normal routine of the household to steady her, and wrap her in its familiarity.
With the month of mourning over, the skirmishes resumed, and Hurst and three Hundreds of Skirmishers took off for the northern boundary line. Mia and Jonnor were left to deal with the daily affairs of the Karninghold.
“There’s another message from village Twelve Fifty-Six Eighteen,” she said, as they sat in the watch tower meeting room one morning. “Their swamp problem is getting worse, and they ask if one of us could visit to authorise drainage work.” She tried to keep her tone business -like, and not remind him that this was the village Tella had set out to visit the day she died.
Jonnor gave no sign that he remembered. “I suppose it can’t wait, with winter not far away.” A heavy sigh. “I’m not sure I feel up to it. Besides, we have our own swamp problem here, with those blocked overflow pipes above the family hall. I’ve been keeping an eye on the builders’ work. You won’t mind dealing with the village, will you?”
“Not at all. I’ve been there many times before. It’s a recurring problem.”
“You’re so good with the villagers, too,” he said, with such a charming smile that Mia couldn’t stop herself from blushing.
“I can’t ride as fast as… I mean, I’ll have to stay overnight,” she said, cursing herself for almost mentioning Tella. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.” He looked down, straightening the papers on the table. “Just don’t go alone.” A quick glance up at her. “Don’t ever ride alone.”
Her heart fluttered. He was concerned for her safety! That was a good sign, surely?
“Oh no, I
After a while, she got up and hung her discarded clothes in one of the wardrobes. She waited again. Eventually, she realised she was shivering so she got into bed.
It must have been the best part of an hour before he came, although the bells had stopped so it was hard to tell. He had a wine goblet in one hand and a half-full decanter in the other. He stopped dead as he came into the room and gazed about, a bewildered expression on his face.
~~~
As soon as she went downstairs the next morning, she found Hurst waiting, sitting at the table pretending to read. He realised at once that something was wrong.
“Whatever happened?” he said, leaping up and putting gentle arms about her. To her shame, she wept, pressing her face into his broad shoulder. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, oh no. But… nothing happened. He sat on the window seat for an age, just crying. Then he left.”
“Oh.”
“It’s too soon. Too soon after Tella’s death. It’s the room – it’s more or less exactly as she left it, and… and it distresses him, naturally.”
Hurst made soothing noises and stroked her hair, and she was comforted, a little.
“You could use the other bedroom, I suppose,” he said.
“Oh no, that wouldn’t do!” Mia said. “The rooms are marked for the lead and second, it’s tradition. It wouldn’t be right to do things differently.” She sighed. “I can move the furniture round a bit, perhaps.”
Not long afterwards, Jonnor came down, stony-faced. They went downstairs for the communion ceremony, and nothing more was said.
Mia’s distress evaporated sooner than she had expected. Jonnor’s grief gave her an easy explanation for his reluctance. She had bided her time for ten years, and could wait a little longer. She was not lively or beautiful like Tella, so Jonnor was bound to find her less desirable. Each night she hoped he would come to her, and each night she was a little less surprised when he didn't. Then she had the normal routine of the household to steady her, and wrap her in its familiarity.
With the month of mourning over, the skirmishes resumed, and Hurst and three Hundreds of Skirmishers took off for the northern boundary line. Mia and Jonnor were left to deal with the daily affairs of the Karninghold.
“There’s another message from village Twelve Fifty-Six Eighteen,” she said, as they sat in the watch tower meeting room one morning. “Their swamp problem is getting worse, and they ask if one of us could visit to authorise drainage work.” She tried to keep her tone business -like, and not remind him that this was the village Tella had set out to visit the day she died.
Jonnor gave no sign that he remembered. “I suppose it can’t wait, with winter not far away.” A heavy sigh. “I’m not sure I feel up to it. Besides, we have our own swamp problem here, with those blocked overflow pipes above the family hall. I’ve been keeping an eye on the builders’ work. You won’t mind dealing with the village, will you?”
“Not at all. I’ve been there many times before. It’s a recurring problem.”
“You’re so good with the villagers, too,” he said, with such a charming smile that Mia couldn’t stop herself from blushing.
“I can’t ride as fast as… I mean, I’ll have to stay overnight,” she said, cursing herself for almost mentioning Tella. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.” He looked down, straightening the papers on the table. “Just don’t go alone.” A quick glance up at her. “Don’t ever ride alone.”
Her heart fluttered. He was concerned for her safety! That was a good sign, surely?
“Oh no, I
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