Hilary’s Wedding

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

I don’t understand you at all, Hilary, Domna Yllana said with a look of frustration. Your own wedding gown, and it might as well be a new pinafore for your sister. I never had anything so fine till after Despard was born; if I had, I would have been wild with excitement. One would think it was someone else’s wedding, not yours at all.

It isn’t mine, thought Hilary, it’s yours and Papa’s - the one you would have liked to have. However, she had learned by now not to say so. She turned around, asking, What is it, Maellen? as her youngest sister came into the room.

Mama, there are messengers from Armida, and Lord Damon himself is with them; he has a message for you. Maellen was now a coltish eleven, all knees and elbows, protruding gawkily from her torn pinafore, her red curls tangled and half uncurled.

Oh, dear, I hope you did not greet him looking like that, Maellen, her mother said, but broke off as Damon Ridenow himself came into the room and bent over Hilary’s hand.

Don’t scold her, I beg of you, vai domna, he said to Domna Yllana; I have come to bid you to a naming-feast at Armida, and of course Callista bade me come to you first of all.

Oh, has Ellemir borne her child? She will be so happy! Hilary exclaimed.

No, Damon said, Next tenday, perhaps; she is still dragging about, as big as the side of the barn, or so it seems. No, Callista bore Andrew a daughter ten days gone, and she wishes to call her daughter ‘Hilary’; so I came to you to be certain you were not of those who thinks it ill luck to name a child after a living person.

No, of course I am not, said Hilary, delighted. I shall have a naming-gift for the little one. Is Callista well, then? And Ellemir?

Damon grinned - as happily, Hilary thought, as if the child were his own. I am happy to say that both are well, and barring something unforeseen, he made a superstitious gesture, this time, all Gods be thanked, nothing will go wrong.

I am so happy for Ellemir, Hilary said, I have not seen either of them since the wedding. It had been quite a scandal in the country round. The twins of Armida had been married, Ellemir to Damon and Callista to a stranger, a Terran, named Anndra Carr - and that not by the catenas but in a simple freemate declaration before witnesses. But both marriages, as far as she knew, had gone well, and the folk at Armida were no less popular than ever. Of course, whatever an Alton of Armida chose to do was assumed to be well done.

Damon touched Hilary’s hand; his eyes fell on the wedding gown on the rack. Yours? May I ask when the wedding is to be held?

We were making ready to send out messages bidding you to the wedding, Hilary said, I could not possibly be married without my oldest friend in attendance. She recalled, on the day she left Arilinn, Damon had met with her in the courtyard and had kissed her in farewell - the first human touch she had borne in seven years.

He said, with a trace of the old familiarity, So you are to have a wedding. I hope it may be as lucky as mine; a marriage should be a happy thing. Do I know the fortunate man?

Hilary thought, Probably better than I do, but aloud she only said, I believe you knew him when you were cadet-master in the Guard. His name is Farrill Lindir; he has four children by his first wife, so he need not care if I do not give him a son.

Oh, Hilary, Domna Yllana interrupted in despair. Isn’t she dreadful, Damon? Why, her health is so much improved. I beg of you, Lord Damon, don’t listen to her! No doubt, at this time next year, he’ll be sending out a bidding to a naming-feast at Miron Lake.

I certainly hope he does not count upon that, Hilary interrupted. If it is a child he wants, no doubt he’llI return me like a sack of grain from the mill; but he wishes for a noble wife, one of unquestioned birth and position. But no doubt he has heard of why my betrothal to Edric Ridenow went amiss; and everyone for miles around knows my health is not that much improved. Nor do I care much for babes - I would rather it was me he wanted, not a brood mare.

Domna Yllana interrupted, Surely this is no seemly speech for a maid almost on the eve of her marriage! but Damon laughed.

So Callista has said many times; but now that her own child is more than a vague idea, she is not only reconciled to having her but has become fond enough of her daughter. And if she were not, there are more than enough women in the Domain for that. He smiled at Hilary, ignoring her mother, and said, It was a gift of Arilinn which kept this child for me; you know after Ellemir’s first child was born so much too soon, it was a woman from the college of midwives at Arilinn Village who told Ellemir what she should do to keep her from such misfortune this time. And so I will soon invite you to the naming feast of my own first son.

Hilary said with an attempt at formality, I am happy for you, Damon; I know how much Ellemir has wanted a child. She thought If it had been you came courting me instead of Edric-She quickly dropped that thought, knowing Damon would pick it up. But when we both dwelt in the Tower, I was but a little girl - and Callista even more so - and he could never see any woman but Leonie. Knowing Damon would pick that up, too, she looked away from him with a new shyness.

Damon bent and kissed the tips of her fingers, May you be as happy as I am with Ellemir, breda, he said. Hilary stood on tiptoe and brushed his cheek with her lips, then withdrew, coloring a little, as she saw her mother’s eyes upon them.

When Damon had left them, Domna YIIana scowled. You wretched girl! Why, if you wanted to be married, did you not make sure of Dom Damon before ever you left the Tower?

Mother, Hilary protested, when Damon left the Tower, I was young and had never thought of any future but to be Keeper at Arilinn. I thought no more of Damon that way than of one of my father’s grooms! And she thought, I am afraid to ask how she thinks I should have made sure of him, or how that would have availed me anything but for both of us being sent away for misconduct.

Domna Yllana’s cheeks reddened with a dull color, and - not for the first time - Hilary suspected her mother had some laran, though flawed and incomplete. But Domna Yllana only said aloud, We have on our estate somewhere, too, a midwife trained at Arilinn. If she helped Lady Ellemir, we should have her look at you.

Perhaps, Hilary said, and hoped her mother would forget it again.

But nothing much happened that day on the estate but for a long colloquy with the cooks about the cakes and wine to be served at the wedding. Personally, Hilary thought this was a lot of fuss for nothing; they had vetoed her first choice of an apple nut cake.

I can’t imagine why, since I am to be the bride in question, and it is my favorite cake, Hilary protested.

But Domna Yllana only laughed and said, Don’t be silly, it isn’t at all a suitable cake for a wedding. Dom Farrill would think I didn’t know what was proper!

When Hilary stubbornly requested further explanation, her father pinched her cheek and said, I don’t understand either, my love; but your mother knows about these things and I don’t. Better listen to her. Hilary, realizing he was probably right, had said no more.

The wedding gown was finished and hung in Hilary’s clothespress. She had tried it on, but when she wanted to show it to her father and Despard, her mother had said harshly that it was ill-luck for anyone but the bride and her attendants to see her dressed before the wedding. Hilary wondered why, then, it would not be bad luck for her mother to see it; and since Domna Yllana had fashioned it for her, how her mother could have made it without seeing it. Again, she knew better than to ask.

It was only a day later when the horsemen rode into the courtyard. The foremost among them said they were from Lake Miron and asked, Is it you, damisela Hilary, who was to marry Dom Farrill?

It is I, Hilary returned with poise and self-possession; but she already knew, from the man’s taut face, what news he would give her. She heard him say it, like an echo. Dom Farrill had been thrown by a half-broken horse, and his head had split open. That last detail they thought to spare her, only calling it a riding accident; but she knew it anyway.

She felt no great personal grief, for she had barely known the man; but it was a dreadful thing for a young life to be so suddenly snuffed out. I cannot tell you how greatly I regret this, she said, shaking her head sadly; inwardly, she felt nothing but a relief she was too worldly-wise to show. She offered the riders refreshment, already knowing her mother’s grief would be greater than her own.

Indeed, when Domna Yllana heard the news, she was as shaken as if she had lost a son. It was she who felt it necessary to tell the riders that Hilary was truly heartbroken, but too dignified and self-possessed to show her grief publicly.

When Hilary expressed her true feelings to her father, he looked troubled. Don’t say such things before your mother; she was really looking forward to your wedding.

I know, said Hilary, making a face. Between ourselves, rather more than I was.

He looked at her guiltily. I know; also between ourselves, I’m not sorry to keep my little girl a few more years. How old are you now, my darling?

Nearly twenty-three, Hilary said, grimacing. A confirmed old maid for certain.

He looked abashed. Oh, surely there is time enough, he said, and hugged her.

Domna Yllana seemed resigned. She said crossly to Hilary, I suppose even Maellen will be married before you will! I knew when you wanted to show Arnad your wedding gown that some evil would come of it, she added with a grim look as if she had foreseen all this. Trying to comfort her, Hilary agreed to consult the Free Amazon midwife on the estate; she had never been willing to speak with the woman before. But now she thought it might be a good thing to be completely well again.

A couple of days later Domna Yllana brought the midwife to her. To Hilary’s surprise, the Renunciate did not wear the riding garb she had always associated with Renunciates, but an ordinary skirt and overdress. Her hair was fastened in a net. Hilary, looking closely, saw that the skirt was cut somewhat shorter than most dresses - for riding, probably.

I am astonished you do not appear like the Guild House Renunciates, with short hair and breeches.

Oh, I wear breeches when I must, but when I am in the villages, I dress so as not to alienate the women I must serve - or their husbands, the woman said, her eyes twinkling.

What is your name, mestra?”

Allier n’ha Ferrika, my lady.

And-how old are you? Hilary asked with real curiosity. You look no older than I

I probably am not, the woman said. I was twenty-two a few days before Midsummer. I learned this work at my mother’s knee; I have been doing it since I was fifteen. Women of my kind, my lady, work from the time they are big enough to gather eggs.

I am twenty-two also, Hilary said, and I worked long and hard when I was in Arilinn. And as she spoke, she thought, But now I am doing nothing! A working woman like this must despise me for my idleness.

I dwelt for a couple of years in Arilinn, to learn the midwife’s art, the woman said. I saw you, from time to time, riding out with the old sorceress; I doubt not at all that your life in the Tower was harder than mine in the Guild House.

Hilary flushed; had the woman been reading her thoughts? After a moment she put the question.

No, my lady; I am not of those gifted with laran, but in Arilinn everyone knows how hard the sons and daughters of the Comyn must work, and what a toll it may take of them. And my mother’s favorite apprentice works at Armida. She came there to care for Lady Ellemir, and she saw how hard it was for Lady Callista to cast off those same shackles. Everyone in Arilinn knew you were not as healthy and strong as the Lady Callista. She colored a little. I fear in Arilinn - as everywhere else in the Domains, my lady - we have not much better to do than speak of the comings and goings of our betters, she said defensively. Surely you know how women gossip. Perhaps they should not, but they do, and that’s all there is to it.

Oh, I’m familiar enough with that, Hilary said. Even here on my father’s estate I am gossiped about enough. And I know that in Arilinn, a mouse can hardly stir in the walls before half the people in the countryside are offering us kittens to catch it. I grew used to that my first year there. It was not particularly pleasant to think that her health had been discussed throughout the midwives college there; but it was simply part of living in Arilinn, which, after all, carried enough privileges that she must accept its few disadvantages as well. She grinned almost mischievously at the woman.

Fair enough; I suppose you heard also when my marriage with Lord Edric Ridenow came to nothing.

Allier said quickly, Only that there had been talk of some such alliance, but it ended because of your ill-health. Did you want very much to marry him, my lady?

Hilary could not keep from laughing. I think I could have borne the loss without weeping, she said, but my mother was wonderfully cross. That is why she has sent for you, that my health may not lose us another valuable alliance. My mother feels that it will be a disgrace if I am not properly married off before my younger sister Maellen is old enough to wed.

Allier looked straight at her. And you are willing to be married off that way, my lady?

Hilary shrugged a little. She said equivocally, It will please my mother if I am not ill; and what is more, I cannot abide the thought of continuing to spend ten days of every forty in bed. I have already made enough embroidered pieces for a dozen or more hope chests for myself and Maellen, and I am weary of it.

Allier smiled. Well, we shall see what can be done.

Hilary felt that Allier had really been asking her something else, but she was not sure quite what.

Tell me, what remedies have they given you?

I have drunk enough golden-flower tea to drown the very Tower itself, both here and in Arilinn. And there have been many other things as well - I cannot remember them all - black hawberries, bitter herbs, in fact everything they could think of.

Ah, some herb-wives would treat the black rot with a dose of golden-flower. Have you- she hesitated, then asked, Forgive me, my lady. Have you miscarried a child? Or did anyone give you a potion to rid you of an unwanted child?

Hilary chuckled.

No, she said. I do not think the Goddess Avarra herself could manage to conceive a child under Leonie’s sharp eyes. I dared not even think of such things in her presence! I have had no opportunity, and I am not an oathbreaker.

True; even laran has its drawbacks. The young Renunciate agreed.

Nor, I must say, has the man been born who would or could tempt me from my vows. No, not even Damon, Hilary said. You may believe that or not - my mother does not - but it is true.

I have no laran, the woman said, but I know when I am being told the truth. I believe you, my lady.

Hilary sighed and relaxed. What do you think you can do for me?

I can promise you nothing; but we know more about these things than women before us knew. In Leonie’s time it was fashionable to say the sickness was in the mind; and while a sickness in the mind can be harder to cure than one of the body, there were those who thought if the illness was all in the mind, it was just a matter; of making up your mind to be free of it.

Hilary sighed I know; I have lost count of those who thought my illness all in the mind. Even Leonie, I think, kind as she always was, never ceased to believe that I was making myself ill in some way that she, and certainly I, did not understand.

We know better now, Allier told her. Whether or not we can make you entirely well is not within my knowledge; but we will try.

Thank you, Allier, Hilary said. And you know, now that I think on it, I truly do not wish to be married off for my family name nor for the children I might have, even though it is the fate of almost every woman in the Domains.

I would be the last to think ill of you for that, Allier said. Of course, that is the one fate a Renunciate need never fear.

Hilary sighed. Alas, I have neither talent nor will to defy my family and live as a Renunciate, even were such a path open to me. I fear I could not face my family and wage war for that right, although such as you will think me cowardly for believing so.

Allier smiled. Courage is of all kinds, she remarked. I have often said that you strove with more courage in Arilinn than I would ever have had. I would have given in and come home within three months. You were there, I think, for almost seven years. No, my lady, coward is not a word I would ever use for you.

After this, they returned to the subject of what the woman thought could be done for Hilary. They soon agreed that she should ride with Allier to her home in the village, since Hilary was experiencing one of her episodes of reasonable health. It would be convenient to have the Renunciate’s supply of herbs and medicines dose at hand.

We will try one of the simpler remedies first, Allier said. Even if it does you no good, it will do no harm. With some of the stronger remedies, you must be watched carefully day and night, and I am not free this tenday to take leave of my other patients and stay near enough to you to make certain that you have no trouble.

That is pleasing to me, Hilary said. But the old woman on the estate has already dosed me with enough of her brews that I have little faith in any of them.

Still, we will try them, Allier said. And if I were you, I would not undervalue the power of faith; but I believe you have already put the work of faith to the test. Here. She alighted from her saddle horse, and went into her small cabin; Hilary followed and found the woman rummaging among the flasks and vials on a long shelf. She asked Hilary, Do you know anything of the healer’s art, my lady?

Very little. Callista knows much more of herbs than I, Hilary said. But I know enough to know that your equipment is of the best. I think we had hardly so much in the Tower itself.

Perhaps not, for I know something of the Terran medical arts; their medical men and women make use of remedies more powerful than those at my command. Only at last resort would I make use of those with you. And before doing so, I must consult with my Terran colleagues.

Hilary shook her head; I dare say my mother would be afraid of this kind of consultation.

Well, perhaps it will not come to that.

Although Hilary did not share the exaggerated fear of the Terrans that some of the less educated men and woman in the Domains had, she hoped fervently it would not, indeed, come to that. Allier packed up some of her medicines in a bag that fitted to her saddle, and added a few candies flavored with sweetroot. I promised your little sister some of these, she said.

As they came out into the courtyard, they found a young man waiting. Allier bowed to him.

Vai dom?

The young man made a deep bow to Hilary. She recognized him as one of the youngsters who had been at Arilinn for half a year while she was there. Forgive me for disturbing you, Lady Hilary. I have brought Mestra Allier one of my mother’s favorite dogs. I think she has a bone in her throat, and it is beyond my skill or that of the beast-leech on our estate. If I might trouble you, mestra… .

Let me see her, said Allier, getting down from her horse. Ah, poor creature, she crooned. The little dog, small and silky, whined and whimpered and drooled in distress.

Do what you can for her, and my mother will be suitably grateful.

Master Colin, I would do as much for any stray mongrel; but you must must hold her head for me. She signaled and Colin climbed off his pony and took the little dog’s head. So. There. There, poor girl- she patted the dog’s head, and bent over her with her long, sharpened forceps. Hold her, so - good dog, good girl- A moment later, having extracted the bone, she patted the little dog’s head and set her down; the dog licked her hands and whimpered with relief.

Young Colin smiled I am very grateful to you, mestra. She is my mother’s pet, and Mother would not have lost her for any amount of gold. How can I repay you?

Feed her no more bones of birds; dogs can chew many bones, but not those. For myself I need nothing, vai dom; only tell your mother that when anyone speaks ill of the Renunciates in her hearing, to speak no evil of us herself, even if she cannot in conscience come to our defense.

Colin sighed; I fear that will not be easy to ask of my mother, for she does not know any of you personally; but I will bear her the word. And no one shall speak ill of your Order in my hearing; that I vow to you. He fumbled in a purse. Allier shook her head, but he said, For anyone in the village who cannot pay for your aid, then, and the woman tucked the gold coin into her purse. I thank you, dom; some of these old women cannot pay for bandages or linen even for a shroud.

Colin bowed and rode away, and Allier said to Hilary, Do you then know Dom Colin of Syrtis?

I know him; he was for some months at Arilinn.

Perhaps he did not speak to you because he was anxious for the little dog. Or perhaps, not expecting to see you here, he did not recognize you.

Oh, but he called me by name, Hilary protested. It troubled her a little to think that Colin might not have wanted to speak with her. Or did he think her still sacrosanct, Keeper, not even to be spoken to as a friend? Or even - oathbreaker? Had he not heard that she had been sent away from the Tower? Did he, perhaps, despise her for that?

A few days later, Hilary and her family rode to Armida for the naming-feast of Callista’s daughter. She did not at first see Ellemir, but as she bent over the cradle in which the younger Hilary lay, Damon came into the room. He admired the baby’s gift from Hilary, a golden locket with a lovely green stone, not precious, but both tasteful and pretty, at its center. Then he turned to Hilary and said, Ellemir is still abed. She bore me a son two days ago, and I would like to show him to you.

I should like nothing better, Damon, though I do not know Lady Ellemir nearly so well as Callista. I am sorry I have nothing but goodwill to bring as a gift; I did not know the boy had been born. Yes, Damon, I would be happy to see your son.

Damon smiled and led her up the stairs to a room where Callista was attending Ellemir. As she approached, a familiar form straightened up from where she was bent over the cradle.

Greetings vai domna; I am glad to see you so well, Allier said, cheerfully. How do you like this fine boy?

He is beautiful, Damon; I am very happy for you. Now, whatever should happen to Ellemir, Damon might remain at Armida by right; and she had never seen him look so content.

Do you like my son, vai domna? asked Ellemir.

Hilary bent and kissed the tiny face; the baby wrinkled up his red features and began to scream. Allier put him into Ellemir’s arms.

Hilary said, He is beautiful, Ellemir, though he does not seem to like me as much as I like him! And not vai domna, but Hilary. Damon is my oldest friend from Arilinn.

Ellemir smiled, even though she did not look perfectly happy; Hilary knew that she was somewhat jealous of the hold his old friends from Arilinn had on Damon. Still, sooner or later Ellemir must know she was no threat where Damon was concerned - no more than Hilary’s brother Despard or her own little sister. At that moment the door swung wide, and young Colin Syrtis came into the room.

I have a gift for your son, Damon, he said, and then broke off, staring at Hilary.

I am glad to see you looking so well, vai domna. So Damon has been showing you our new little Guardsman?

Oh - I knew not that this boy was destined for the Guards - is it so, Damon?

Damon grinned and said, That destiny no Comyn son can escape if he has two sound legs and his eyesight.

Hilary said, looking at the child’s clear blue eyes, That he has, at least, and I am glad of it. But it is possible he may, like his father, be destined for the Tower.

He will not, said Damon, Others have more of foresight than I; but he will not enter a Tower, that I know.

I trust, then, that he may at least be a good Guardsman, said Hilary, and Colin grinned. No question of that; not with Damon for his father! May I ride home with you, damisela? There is something I would say to your mother and father.

I should welcome it, Hilary said demurely.

She was pleased with Colin’s company, which made the long road less tiresome. As they neared Castamir, he said abruptly, Are you not even curious about what I would say to your parents, Hilary?

She sighed, forced to take note of it again.

She said slowly, I wish it had not come up. I suppose you are going to ask my mother and father for permission to request my hand in marriage; but my mother will be so disappointed when your family makes it clear that you must have a healthy wife, capable of giving you children. I will, I confess, feel very sorry when that happens. I would rather have a friend than a suitor.

She went on doggedly, We have been friends; and at this moment I would rather have you as a friend than marry any man the Gods ever made. I do not have so many friends as that.

Colin looked at her and sighed. He asked, Why should you believe that it must inevitably come to nothing, Hilary? Or that we cannot remain friends, whether we marry or not?

She sighed, too, then said warily, Because you are akin to Comyn and must have a wife who can give you healthy sons. I am sure you have heard that I have been three times handfasted, and each time, the man or his parents have broken the contract; it is not likely that your parents would allow you to marry me.

As for that, Colin said, I am a third son; and I know what havoc arises in a family with too many sons. Like Damon’s, my family had five sons, all but one of whom lived and thrived. I cannot offer you a Domain, but the best of it is that at least I may marry to please myself, and not the Head of my family. And so, Hilary, I do not intend to consult them.

But your mother and father would wish you to marry someone of a more powerful family.

If they do - and I do not think they do - they may wish for whatever they like, but I am not obliged to pay heed. Believe me, Hilary, I do not intend to marry at their or anyone else’s bidding.

Hilary could not keep a tinge of bitterness out of her voice.

Well, you may ask - for all the good I think it will do you.

Colin said gently, I wish only to ask if such a request would displease you, Hilary.

Hilary laughed a little. Oh, no, she said, I thought I had made that clear; I only did not wish to face disappointment when the marriage plans come to nothing - as I am sure they will.

That is all I ask, Colin said gently.

Later that day Hilary’s father called her into the roam.

An offer has been made for you, sweetheart; would it please you to be married into the Syrtis family?

It would please me greatly, said Hilary truthfully. Colin spoke of this to me - no, do not be cross with him, Papa, he only asked me if such a request would be distasteful to me.

And what answer did you give to him?

I told him I should like it very much, she answered. I confess, I hope these arrangements do not fall through. Had it really come to pass that she was being married for herself, and not for the sake of a dynastic alliance? The Syrtis folk had been Hastur allies for many years, and she still feared when they knew of Hilary’s poor heallh, his family would not like it.

But as the months went by and she met Domna Camilla, she began to believe in her good fortune, to be married to a man she actually knew and thought well of; and she liked Colin’s parents. Actually, she found herself wishing they had been her -own parents. She felt a little guilty about that. The folk of Syrtis were richer than her own people, and she felt guilty about that, too. Maybe, she thought, that was why they cared less about the trappings of the wedding. Or perhaps, with so many sons, they were simply getting used to weddings by now.

Meanwhile, the Renunciate had been trying various of her medicines and potions on Hilary; so far, none of them had had much effect on her, although some seemed to make matters worse. One afternoon Hilary felt quite tired, and had stayed in bed. She was listlessly playing a game of castles with Maellen when Domna Yllana brought her up word that Colin’s mother had called and wished to see her.

Of course she must not see you like this! Domna Yllana’s voice was filled with distress. What would she think?

Hilary found it too much trouble to think. Whatever Allier had given her had made her much drowsier than golden-flower, but as far as she could tell, had had no other effect.

Perhaps she will think I am really sick, and that I am not pretending illness to escape marrying her son? she inquired.

Hilary, what a dreadful thing to say!

Well, it’s what you think, isn’t it?

Of course not, darling; but couldn’t you make just a little effort? To get up and come downstairs?

Hilary said dizzily; No, I couldn’t. I thought you learned that from my first night here; do you really want me to throw up in the noble lady’s lap?

Hilary did not really care about much of anything. Allier’s potion had made her feel drowsy; it was simply too much trouble to put her mind to anything at all. Of course, her mother could not let it go at that; she fussed over Hilary interminably, insisting that the girl comb her hair and put on a fresh and pretty bed jacket. When at last Lady Syrtis carne into the room, Hilary was groggy and exhausted. Maellen had successfully resisted her mother’s admonitions to go and get into a fresh pinafore. It’s not me the noble lady’s coming to see, she had announced, and settled down where she was, on Hilary’s bed.

Lady Syrtis greeted Maellen, then looked anxiously at Hilary’s pale face. Hilary’s mother left the room to prepare refreshments.

I did not mean for you to put yourself to any trouble, my girl, she said. I can see that you are not well. I beg of you, she added, don’t trouble yourself to sit up. I wished only to know if you had any preferences about the wedding.

None whatever, Hilary said faintly. If I had my preferences, it would be as small and private a ceremony as might be.

Lady Syrtis said almost regretfully, I wish I had known that earlier; I have already invited many of our kin, and I cannot now ask them not to come, or they may feel that some of us have something to conceal. I am sorry; if I had known you felt that way, I would have asked only the family. But your mother gave me to understand you wanted full ceremony, and we were anxious to honor you.

Hilary sighed. There was no reason to create enmity between her mother and her new relatives, so she said, I believe my mother must have misunderstood something I said when I was a child too young to understand how much trouble such a wedding could be. Believe me, I am not eager for ceremony. I had enough of that in Arilinn to last me a lifetime.

I can well believe it, my dear, said Lady Syrtis. I do wish I had known; but for now, rest well and try to grow strong. She bent and kissed Hilary, patted the cheek of the silent Maellen, and withdrew.

Hilary had almost fallen asleep again when her mother came into the room; one glance told Hilary she was angry.

What is this you have been telling Lady Syrtis? That you do not want a big ceremony?

She did say that, Maellen, still at the foot of the bed, pointed out. I heard her.

Silence, Miss, commanded Lady Castamir. Well, Hilary, have you made fools out of all of us here?

No, Hilary thought, you have done that admirably for yourself. But she did not say so. Mother, I said only that if it had been left to me, I would have been content with repeating my vows before our two families; but you and Papa would not have it so.

Don’t be foolish, my girl. If you sequester yourself on your wedding day, they will all think you have something to hide.

I know, Mother, Hilary said placating. I know it has gone too far for that; but I beg you, speak no more of ceremony for this wedding! It is already as if you were planning the marriage of King Stefan.

It is only for our daughter and our close relatives, said her mother with a definite sense of injury. And it is all for your sake, my love. She went out, and soon returned, saying that Colin was below, and would speak with his bride. Now, don’t for heaven’s sake say anything of this to him, she demanded. Hilary, already feeling like a captive of some great Terran earth-moving machine, promised.

A few days later, Hilary, feeling much better, rode out with Colin to Allier’s cottage. The woman was in her courtyard readying herself for a trip to the village as Colin rode into the yard.

A word with you, mestra.

We must speak here; we have no Stranger’s Room as we do in a proper Guild House If we allowed strange men to come within, what sort of house do you think the villagers would take it for?

I had never thought of that, Colin said. There is a proverb, Surely there is nothing so evil as the mind of a virtuous woman 

Unless, said Allier, it is the mind of a virtuous man. Still, those minds and tongues do exist; and I must live with them.

My promised wife is with me, Colin said, as Hilary rode into the yard. I truly think she is chaperon enough against those evil tongues.

Oh, to be sure, Allier said. Come in, Lady Hilary, while Dom Colin puts up the horses.

With pleasure, Hilary said. She entered the woman’s little cottage, sat down, and told her everything.

I feel so guilty because I have let things go this far, Hilary confessed. I don’t know how I can stop it now.

Nothing is easier, but it does need some courage, Allier commented. Just say to your mother that you do not want a grand festival.

But that makes it sound - oh, dear - ungrateful for all the trouble she has taken, Hilary said. I do not want to alienate her.

Then I do not see that you have any choice,” Allier said. “You are, in fact, ungrateful, but you do not want to anger her by saying so.

How well you know me, Hilary answered, a little ruefully. I don’t have the courage of - of my father’s wake-hounds. They, at least, will bark to wake up the night watchman.

No, you are not very good at barking, Hilary, Allier said. Could you speak of this to Colin?

Oh, yes, Hilary said. I think I could speak of anything to Colin.

Well, I am relieved at that, Allier said, For if there was anything of which you could not speak to Colin, I would certainly say you should not marry him.

Hilary asked, Is that Renunciate wisdom? One of the first things she had learned from her mother as a small child was that, as a matter of course, there were many things which could not be said to Papa.

No, it is only plain common sense, Allier replied.

I would not marry except as a freemate - my oath prevents it; but even if I were free, I would not marry a man from whom I felt I must conceal anything. You have already made a good start on this by insisting on telling Colin of your health problems. I dare say your mother felt it best to say nothing of that.

Why, you’re right, Hilary confessed.

And she made it clear that one of a wife’s duties was to say as little as possible about the state of her health, even after they were married. While it was true that Hilary knew such conversation could be boring, she had become accustomed at Arilinn to hearing the state of her health discussed at great length by everyone there.

I suggest, then, that you tell Colin exactly how you feel, Allier said. And if he feels you must carry it through in spite of everything, I suggest that you wind up your courage and do so. Otherwise, I bid you remember that a marriage in essence consists of only a meal, a bed, and a fireside.

As they rode homeward, Hilary told Colin everything, as Allier had suggested. He looked so full of solicitude that Hilary felt like breaking down; but she only said, Tell me the truth, Colin, how much of this ceremony do you really want?

No more than you do, he said, rather unhappily. Surely you know that all this ceremony is to please the family of the bride; I was told by your parents that you must have a wedding worthy of the former Keeper of Arilinn. But I confess, I do not see what difference it makes.

Then we are in total agreement, Hilary said with a breath of relief. I was told that only a great ceremony would please you and your kin, and was made to feel ungrateful for not wanting it - as if it would dishonor you and your noble kinfolk.

Colin’s face lit up. Then let us have less ceremony, by all means, he said. I have always thought a wedding should please bride and husband, and I was willing to go along with whatever you wished. But if it is not your true will - and if we are both agreed-?

Of one thing you should be sure, Hilary said, My mother and father will be angry with us - or at least my mother will be. Papa will not mind, except that he will have to bear my mother’s wrath.

Colin sighed. Darling, if you will forgive me for saying so, I care not a raisin for your mother’s wrath.

Hilary felt the most extraordinary sense of relief and lightness; she giggled helplessly and murmured, To be perfectly truthful, neither do I, Colin; but I am not brave enough to say so!

He turned in the saddle to look at her. Then, my love, I think there is nothing left to do but to decide where and when we wish to go.

She could not think of what she wished to do, or where they could go to do it. She did not wish to bring down her parents’ wrath upon any of the villagers who might lend them a roof. Finally she suggested in desperation that perhaps Allier would know, or be able to suggest something.

They met with Allier the following day and unfolded their dilemma to her; she listened a moment, then grinned.

I was wondering when you would get around to asking me. I do not fear the wrath of your family. I do not depend on anyone in your village for my livelihood, but only on my Guild-mother. Rather, they dare not offend me - or who would serve the women in your village? And where would they be if my Guild refused to send them Healers or a midwife? You will borrow my cottage, of course.

Once it was determined, Hilary set herself to deciding what their first meal together, at their first fireside, should be. She herself knew almost nothing of kitchen arts. In the Tower, there had been servants to do everything. So she decided that she would take ready-to-eat food. By telling her mother that she and Colin planned a day’s ride, she got one of the kitchen women to pack them a generous lunch, including many of her favorite dainties. With a little glimmer of mischief, she even had them pack an apple nut cake; everyone on the estate knew it was her favorite. And now this would be her wedding cake after all, she thought with a sly smile; there would be no one to say it was not suitable.

One of the kitchen women, who had been Hilary’s nurse when she was very small, saw the smile. You are merry, Mistress, she said with a hint of question. Hilary merely said, If I cannot be merry on the eve of my wedding, when should I be? She hugged the woman exuberantly. When the house folk heard that she had cheated them -of their festival, at least someone would know how happy she had been.

But she grew pensive as she and Colin rode out. For the last two or three years she had heard much from Damon of the struggle Callista had had to lay down the burden of the Tower; she had refused to join with Leonie when the folk of the Tower would have met to strip Damon of his powers. She was still frightened; because of Allier’s ministrations, it might be easier for her. She could probably consummate her marriage without danger; but she might be among those failed Keepers who kill their prospective husbands without meaning to, and even the bare possibility frightened her. Colin, too, was of the Tower. She had been brought up on stories which made the point that a man who takes a Keeper - even with her own consent - risks his life and sanity. Did Colin fear her?

Not much, he said, but life is full of fears. If I was prone to be afraid, I would never ride a horse for fear he might slip the reins, nor hunt for fear a huntsman’s arrow would strike me, nor ever leave my fireside and go out of doors for fear stray lighting might strike me from the sky. A man cannot live his life in fear, Hilary; there is risk every time I set foot out of my bed, when it comes to that.

Ah, you are braver than I, Hilary said, I am afraid of everything.

But when you are married to me, Colin said, you will not need to be afraid, for you will have nothing to be afraid of.

I hope not, Hilary replied as they drew up their horses in front of Allier’s cottage. She evidently was not within; but she had left the latchstring out for them. Hilary went in while Colin tied the horses and gave them hay. The cottage consisted only of one big room which served as kitchen, living room, and bedroom. A large four-poster bed took up a good deal of the space. Hilary had not found the bed remarkable when she was here before, but now she could not take her eyes from it. Colin came in and she went at once to build up the fire. He bent beside her and said, Let’s build it together - our first fireside… .

In spite of the fire, Hilary felt cold. Perhaps, she thought, she would feel better with something warm to drink. She found a saucepan hanging over the hearth, and poured the cider into it. Within minutes it was steaming away merrily. She unpacked the nut cake and borrowed Colin’s knife to cut two generous wedges.

Our wedding feast is ready, Colin, she said. Colin turned around and placed the treats and cider on the big bed.

Come here, Hilary, he said matter-of factly, and offered his hand to help her onto the patchwork quilt. Then he sat beside her, and put his arm around her.

So, he said quietly, holding the mug to her lips, it is done. We have shared a bed, a hearth, and a meal; you are my wife. There is time enough for everything else when we have leisure and we are ready. Don’t you think I know how you were worrying about that, Hilary?

You do understand everything, Colin, she whispered. Let us ride home to Syrtis, then, where we can share all these things under your family’s roof.

She would still have to face her mother’s wrath; but now, she could face even that. Ahead of her was a life as Colin’s wife. She smiled at Colin, and thought she would never be afraid of anything again.

Table of Contents

Start