The Language of Love
Lill woke to pale, early sunlight coming in the windows of his room. He felt rested and relaxed, more so than he had in several days. There was a warm presence in the bed at his back.
He turned cautiously, but Vanu was already wide awake, lying with his hands clasped behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.
He was not under the same quilt as Lill; he’d taken an extra blanket out of the chest to cover himself, and it was strewn half onto the floor because the bed wasn’t big enough for the two of them. He looked over at Lill with a smile.
“Sleep all right?”
“Um. Yes. Thank you.”
He didn’t even remember feeling any awkwardness the night before when he lay down with Vanu.
He had fallen asleep too fast, with Vanu lying awake at his back.
He ought to explain now why he had needed Vanu there, that he was not used to sleeping entirely alone, but he would have had to make up a story to avoid talking about the dormitory of the Order, and he felt, somehow, too peaceful to want to go to that effort. It was easier to say nothing.
“Can’t sleep again, come to my room,” said Vanu, stretching his arms up over his head and flexing his fingers. “Sleep there whenever you want.”
“Thank you,” Lill said again.
It had helped so much, having Vanu there, and Vanu had offered it so easily, without asking questions.
I’m in his debt, Lill thought automatically, and then remembered that Vanu was his husband.
It wasn’t like that between them. Funny that this was the first time he’d caught himself thinking like that, as if Vanu was a comrade whose favour he must repay.
Vanu had in fact done many things for him in the past few days, but somehow in the strangeness of their wedding and its aftermath, it had been easy enough to remember that this situation was completely outside the norm.
Of course this situation was going to end with Vanu dead, or—perhaps more likely—Lill struck down in the course of trying to kill Vanu.
“Do you ever have difficulty sleeping when you’re … when it’s just you in the house?” Lill asked.
“Nah. Sleep like a rock. But … ” Vanu turned on his side toward Lill and signed a couple of words. “Know those?” he asked aloud.
“Sad?” Lill guessed. “Sometimes.”
Vanu nodded and made another sign. “Lonely,” he translated. He repeated the sign for “sometimes.”
“I can’t imagine,” said Lill thoughtfully, “that your enemies would be satisfied to know that you’re only a prey to sadness and loneliness in here sometimes.”
Vanu smiled in the way that crinkled the scar on his left cheek, the mark drawn fifteen years ago by White Viper’s sword.
He reached across the small distance between them and touched a fingertip to Lill’s cheek.
He drew it down to Lill’s lower lip, running it slowly along, just short of invading Lill’s mouth.
Lill felt that hot pulse of desire again. He could part his lips and take Vanu’s fingertip into his mouth, feel it on his tongue—why would he want to do that? His body tensed with something—anticipation? disgust?
Vanu snatched his hand away. He tossed back the coverlet and rolled up to his feet. He was wearing a long, loose garment of undyed wool, with a wide neck and slits in the sides through which Lill caught a glimpse of muscular bare calves.
“Is that what you wear to bed?” Lill asked, realization dawning.
Vanu looked down at his garment. “Yeah. Nightshirt.” He looked at Lill, who had gone to bed in his trousers, not knowing what else to do. “Thought we got you one.”
“You did. I saw it in the clothes chest. I didn’t know it was a sleeping garment. I wasn’t sure when I was supposed to wear it—and I think it’s a good thing I saw you wearing yours to bed, or I’d have made a fool of myself.”
Vanu grinned. “Not the royal court here. Wear what you like.”
“All right,” said Lill, trying for an airy tone. “I will.”
Was that all he’d needed? A good night’s sleep?
That problem had been easily solved, even if Vanu hadn’t been able to sleep particularly well himself, afraid he was going to hit Lill with a stray limb, rolling over in the too-small bed.
But Lill did seem to be in a better mood as he joined the family for breakfast that morning.
He was wearing one of the silver bracelets that Vanu had given him as part of the wedding treasury.
It slid up and down his slim wrist as his hands moved in halting conversation with the girls.
That seemed to be what he had done in response to Vanu telling him to wear what he liked.
Vanu didn’t quite understand it, but it pleased him anyway.
After breakfast, while Vanu exercised, the girls brought Lill with them to collect the ducks’ eggs, showing him where to look and how to gather the eggs.
Vanu himself went out to milk the goats, a job he had taken on himself since he seemed the only person in the village that the goats did not try to bite.
When he returned with the day’s milk, Susami was working in the outdoor kitchen, Mikhi was at target practice, and Lill was once again sitting on the balcony looking like he had nothing to do.
“Why don’t you see if Atari wants to play?” Vanu suggested.
Lill looked up with a blank expression as if he wasn’t sure what this could mean, but he got to his feet, treating Vanu’s suggestion like an order, and went down the stairs to the yard.
Some time later, Atari appeared from inside the house, looking around the yard and peering under bushes and behind the cistern.
“What are you doing?” Vanu asked.
“Looking for Lill. He didn’t know any games, so I explained hide and seek, and I thought he would be easy to find because he’d never played before—but I’ve looked everywhere!”
“Try the cupboard in my bedchamber,” Vanu suggested.
“Good idea!”
Atari ran off into Vanu’s house, and some time passed before the back door burst open and Lill came tearing out with Atari behind him.
She chased him around the duck pond, laughing, and he ran back toward Vanu’s house, but instead of going inside, he jumped onto a bench under the overhanging second storey and grabbed the decorative woodwork at the top of the supporting post. He kicked the bench over nimbly as he pulled himself up, and clung there, out of Atari’s reach.
Vanu put down his work and strode over. He picked Atari up by the waist and hoisted her so she could reach to tag Lill. She poked him impishly in the thigh, and he made an adorable noise, a kind of aggrieved shriek, glaring down over his shoulder.
Vanu backed away and set Atari on her feet. Lill dropped down from the cornice, landing lightly, before Vanu could offer him a hand. He looked embarrassed now and wouldn’t meet Vanu’s eye. But he signed to Atari, “Your turn to hide.”
For a moment, Vanu felt like asking if he could join the game.
“Why don’t you go out into the village and visit your friend?” Vanu suggested that afternoon, draping his arm along the cushions behind Lill.
Lill, who had been about to nestle against Vanu’s side—it had seemed the thing to do, now that they were alone on the balcony—looked up at Vanu’s profile.
His friend? Presumably Vanu meant Halza.
Should he say that Halza wasn’t his friend?
No, Vanu was trying to be a good husband, suggesting this out of generosity.
And they’d been doing well that morning, although Lill had felt rather a fool with the show he’d put on, climbing the house like a monkey, and that embarrassing, uncalculated scream.
But Vanu had seemed to like watching him play with Atari.
“Maybe you can find out what that business outside the house last night was about,” Vanu added, with a twinkle in his eye.
“I could try,” Lill said neutrally. He had fully intended to do that at some point, but he hadn’t expected Vanu to suggest it. It was disconcerting, almost as if Vanu was party to his mission, giving him orders.
He went out to Tirtu’s house, across the street from Vanu’s. The cat was lying on the windowsill by the door. It stretched and yawned and jumped down to prowl past him, briefly rubbing against his leg. He knocked on the door of the house.
“Come in!” Tirtu’s voice called from inside.
Lill hesitated. This was so awkward. What was he pretending to do here? Visit his “friend”? When had he ever done such a thing? He pushed open the door and leaned inside.
“Hello? It’s Lill.”
“Lill!” Halza cried. “Just a moment, I’ll be right down!” He was at the top of the stairs with a rolled-up mattress clutched in his arms.
“I told you to leave that to me!” Tirtu scolded. “Hello, Lill. We’re moving Halza into his own house.”
“Let me help,” Lill suggested, glad to have something practical to do.
He ran up the stairs and took hold of the mattress to help Halza manoeuvre it down the stairs.
“Which house are you getting?” he asked, as he backed down the stairs, as if this was a completely normal question. Which of the empty houses in this deserted village are our captors letting you live in?
“Oh, there’s a nice place near the gate with a slate roof that just needs a few repairs. Tirtu and I spent yesterday cleaning it up enough to make it habitable. Pad came by to help, but he didn’t do much.” He chuckled.
“So, uh, you’re settling in, then.” Lill didn’t know what to say in front of Tirtu. How much had Halza told him about his plans? For that matter, what were Halza’s plans?
The rolled-up mattress wasn’t heavy, and Halza could carry it easily when he wasn’t trying to negotiate stairs with his healing leg. Lill relinquished it to him at the bottom of the steps.
“You’re hardly even limping anymore,” Lill noted.
“We’ll have you dancing the burira in no time!” said Tirtu heartily. “Here, Lill, you carry this.” He held out a clanking bundle of what might have been kitchen implements.
“Are you sure I can have all that?” Halza asked. “I don’t want to deprive you.”
“Nonsense, it’s all stuff I don’t need. Gurti brings me my food—I don’t need to cook for myself.”