Waiting #2
He had to get Vanu back into his bed. He’d never have imagined that this would be hard.
He had been terrified of it, of course—not terrified, no, of course not, revolted by it—but he had thought it would just happen, and all the difficulty would be in enduring it.
To have to go about actually engineering the hated thing …
But it hadn’t been hated; he hadn’t hated it. He tried to ignore the whisper that reminded him.
He thought he would be tired enough that night that he would fall asleep easily when the household retired.
Instead, he fell asleep on the balcony during dinner with Vanu and his daughters, and woke to find himself being carried into his bedroom with his head on Vanu’s warm, rocklike shoulder.
He should say something, do something—now would be a perfect opportunity.
But he didn’t know what to say or do, and maybe it would happen on its own, maybe Vanu would do something himself …
Vanu was laying him down on his bed, closing the shutters, and going out through the door into the house. And now Lill was wide awake, alone in the quiet dark. He curled into a ball on the bed, hands clenched into fists, and whimpered in frustration.
He lay and tried not to think … tried to think about something useful …
tried not to think again … Finally he got up.
The house was silent; Vanu had obviously gone to bed by now.
Lill opened the door to his room and looked out into the large, dark space of the front room.
There was enough moonlight to allow him to see his way down the stairs.
He padded along the top of the cupboards and stood looking at the stairs going up to the closed door of Vanu’s chamber.
He imagined himself creeping up the stairs and slipping silently through Vanu’s door.
He vividly remembered the layout of the room, the two steps up to the bed, the window on the left that would let in the moonlight.
He tried to picture Vanu asleep—he’d never seen him asleep, his husband of three days—did he sleep on his back or on his side, with his long limbs sprawled about or tucked in tidily?
Would his pale hair look blue in the moonlight?
That was all beside the point. If he crept up the stairs and into Vanu’s room, and up the two steps to the bed, what would he do?
Slip under the covers next to Vanu? That would probably be a good way to get himself strangled, or at least thrown across the room.
Well. Thrown across the room wouldn’t be so bad—it was survivable—and Vanu would feel guilty when he realized what he’d done. Could Lill use that?
He was standing at the foot of the stairs thinking about this when he heard soft voices from somewhere. Outside, he thought, in front of the house. He couldn’t make out the words.
He stepped down from the cupboards and ran lightly over to the door under Vanu’s stairs, the one that led to the disused room. He eased it open silently and slipped through.
This room had a small window on the front of the house, with panes of plain glass set in it, transparent enough that you could see out to the street outside.
From where he stood just inside the door, Lill couldn’t see the speakers, but now he didn’t need to, because he recognized the voices, and he could hear quite clearly what they were saying.
“My lord, I could not think of doing such a thing.” Padunu sounded as though he was trying to keep his voice low, but it was too much against his nature.
“I don’t see why not.” Faru’s low growl was harder to hear but unmistakable. “You helped my foolhardy sons throw the lowland whore through Lord Vanu’s window readily enough.”
“I did no such thing, my lord. I remonstrated with your sons, I assure, you, I—”
“Enough. The thing is easily done, and if you desire my continued patronage, you’ll do it.”
“I—my—but I—” Padunu’s distress was clearly audible through the wall and across the room in the darkness. Lill had never heard him sound like this before, all his bluster gone. He sounded helpless, even pitiable. “My lord, such a curse … I don’t know if you understand.”
“Are you frightened?” Faru’s voice was heavy with contempt.
There was a long pause before Padunu finally replied. “Are you not? The oath that you swore to your father, my lord … I … ”
“Tchah! This would not touch it. You made the curse. You will affix the curse. I have nothing to do with it.”
“You are standing here telling me to do it! Do you think the Blue Heaven is a blind idiot? Do you think the spirits are fooled by arguments that would not convince a child? If I do this, I am acting as your tool, and the deed is yours, my lord. Make no mistake.”
There was another long silence. Lill took a couple of silent steps toward the window until he could see Padunu, white-faced and staring.
“My tool,” came Faru’s voice finally, the threat in it clear. “You are that. Think on it, I advise you.”
Lill heard the sound of Faru’s footsteps moving away.
Padunu remained rooted to the spot. Deliberately, Lill took another step closer to the window.
The shaman looked up, catching movement from inside.
Lill had stepped half into the shaft of moonlight falling through the window, and Padunu saw him.
For a moment they held eye contact before the shaman turned and bolted away.
Vanu stood in the doorway and looked down at the dark front room.
That was how he noticed the door to the empty room at the front of the house open and a shadow slip out.
He stared, trying to follow the progress of the shadow across the room, but even though he was watching, he lost him.
Impressive. He was about to make some noise to call attention to himself and let Lill know he’d been spotted, when the shadow reappeared and plopped down dejectedly at the bottom of the stairs to Lill’s room.
Vanu moved, unpropping his shoulder from the doorframe, and Lill started and looked up with a gasp.
“Can’t sleep?’ said Vanu.
“No, I … I got up because I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t doing anything in particular.”
Vanu nodded, though it wasn’t convincing. “Hear those idiots out in front of the house just now?”
“Mm. Yes.”
“Woke me up. Don’t know why they thought they wouldn’t.”
Lill cracked a little smile at that, but it was too dark to appreciate it fully from this distance.
“What, um, were they trying to do?”
“Not sure. Think the shaman’s made some curse—thing they make, bones and herbs—and Faru wanted him to put it on my house.” He shrugged. “Not worried. Been cursed all my life. Born a curse.”
“Born a curse?” Lill repeated.
“Tell you some other time.” He yawned. “Back to bed now. Something you need to help you sleep?”
Lill shifted on the step and didn’t reply for a moment. “Company?” he said finally.
“Hey?” That was unexpected. “Nothing easier. Let’s go.”