That, by itself, was very nearly the most valuable attribute a Legion could possess. Legion captains had known for years that the expectation of victory breeds victory.

He should get up and get moving, rousing the nearer men, playing the role of a Princeps with boundless power, confidence, and energy. But the simple bedroll felt extremely comfortable. He turned his attention to the warm, relaxed, sleeping presences beside him, and -

Presences?

Tavi sat bolt upright.

"You didn't tell me," Tavi said quietly.

Kitai looked sideways at him, then away. She thrust her arms into the steel-stained padded vest she wore beneath her mail and began to buckle it on.

Tavi pressed gently. "Why didn't you tell me, chala?"

"I should never have come here with you," Kitai said, her voice hard. "I should have remained in my own bedroll, alone. Crows take it, I knew you would sense it if we were together. I was weak."

Tavi heard his own voice gain an angry edge. "Why didn't you tell me, Kitai?"

"Because your people are insane about the birth of children," she snarled. "What may happen! What may not happen! When it must happen, and within what order of events! Circumstances over which they had no control whatsoever dictate how they will be treated for the rest of their lives!" She finished buckling the vest and glared at him. "You should know this. Better than anyone."

Tavi folded his arms and met her gaze. "And how did you expect things to be made better by keeping this from me?"

Advertisement..

"I..." Kitai stopped speaking and slithered into her mail shirt, a task made awkward by the cramped space of the wagon. "I did not wish you to aim your further insanity at me."

"Further insanity?" he demanded. "Don't bother with the armor, Kitai. You won't be using it."

She lifted her chin as she began binding her hair back into a tail. "There? You see? Because I carry our child, you expect me to sit quietly in some stone box until it is time to give birth."

"No," Tavi said. "I expect you to keep our..." He tried not to choke over the word. "... child... safe."

"Safe?" Kitai eyed him. "There is no such place, Aleran. Not anymore. Not until the vord are put down. There are only places where it will take longer to die."

Tavi had no real answer to that. He leaned back on his heels and stared at her for a long moment.

"This is why you insisted on a courtship," he said. "On us sleeping apart."

Kitai's cheeks flushed. "It... is another reason, Aleran." She swallowed. "There were many reasons."

Tavi leaned forward and offered her his hand.

She took it.

They held hands for a quiet moment.

"Our child," Tavi said.

She nodded, her eyes wide and difficult to read.

"When did you know?"

"Toward the end of the voyage back from Canea," she said.

"How long?"

She shrugged, and for one of the few times in Tavi's memory, failed to look calm and confident. "Six months. If the father was Marat. But our people and yours... this has never before happened." She swallowed, and Tavi thought that she looked, in that instant, fragile and beautiful, like a flower coated in ice. "I do not know what will happen. No one knows what will happen."

Tavi sat in total silence for a long moment, trying to get his head around such a simple and enormous truth.

He was going to be a father.

He was going to be a father.

A little person was going to come into the world, and Tavi would be his father.

Kitai's fingers stroked over his hand. "Please tell me what you are thinking."

"I'm..." Tavi shook his head, at a loss. "I'm thinking that... that this changes things. This changes everything."

"Yes," Kitai said in a very small voice.

Tavi blinked, then seized both her hands in his. "Not between you and me, Kitai. This doesn't change that."

She searched his eyes, blinked twice, and a tear rolled down each cheek before she remembered her watercrafting and closed her eyes.

Tavi suddenly drew her hard against him so that he could put his arms around her. "Don't," he said quietly. "Don't you dare think you need to hide them from me."

She turned her face against his chest, and her slender arms suddenly tightened on him. He was abruptly reminded that she was very nearly as strong as he was, despite the difference in their sizes. And she was wearing chain mail. Very chilly chain mail. Tavi winced but didn't move.

Kitai left her face against his chest for a time, and her tears, warmer than his ever were, made his skin damp.

"I did not know what you would do," she said a few moments later, her arms never loosening. "What you would think. We didn't do things in the right order."

Tavi was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "You were worried about our child being thought of as a bastard?"

"Of course," she said. "I've seen Maximus's scars. I saw how mad Phrygiar Navaris became. I've seen others who are... who are outsiders. Abused. Because they are not legitimate. As if simply by being born they are guilty of a crime. I did not know what to do."

Tavi was quiet for a time and stroked her hair with one hand. Then he said, "There are two things we could do."

She made a sniffling sound and listened.

"We could arrange things so that the child was not thought of as a bastard," he said.

"How?"

"Oh, we lie, of course. We get married at once and simply say nothing else, and when the child is born we marvel that he - "

"Or she," Kitai interjected.

"Or she must have come early."

"Will that not be found out? A truthfinder would realize that was a story immediately."

"Oh," Tavi said, "everyone would realize it was a story. But no one would say anything about it. It's what is called a 'polite fiction' among people who care about such things. Oh, there might be some sniggering, some remarks made behind our backs, but it wouldn't be seriously challenged."

"Truly?"

"Happens all the time," Tavi said.

"But... but it would still be used against the child. Laughed at behind his back. Used to taunt him - "

"Or her," Tavi interjected.

"Or her," Kitai said. "It will forever be a weakness that someone else will be able to exploit."

"That's up to the child, I daresay," Tavi said.

Kitai considered that for a moment. Then she said, "What other thing might we do?"




Most Popular