Page 57 of The Summer Pass

He passed by Gurti’s bed on the way back to his, and she must have been half-awake because she sat up with a start.

“Lill. What are you doing out of bed?” she whispered sharply.

For a moment he thought about making a joke—“Running a footrace,” or something—but Gurti hadn’t spoken to him since his return, and there had been an edge to her voice.

“Just going to the privy,” he said meekly.

“Oh,” she said. She was on her feet now. “I didn’t mean—I was afraid you could hurt yourself, not that you … ”

Lill shuffled the last few steps to the couch and toppled gingerly down onto it.

“Not that I was sneaking around, up to no good?” He smiled, though she might not have been able to see it in the dark. “I wouldn’t blame you. But I couldn’t really cause much trouble right now, even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to cause any of you trouble.”

He couldn’t see her expression either. “I know,” she said finally. “You came here to help us—at great danger to yourself. It was good of you.”

He had lain down again, but he felt wide awake now and restless.

“Do you need anything?” she asked.

He wanted to get dressed, but it was dark and everyone else was asleep, so it didn’t seem the right time to ask for that.

“I heard what you said to Halza,” Gurti said, when he hadn’t replied. “It was a just rebuke. I suppose, from a certain point of view, you have acted rightly.”

“Thanks,” said Lill. “I wish I could have done better.”

“Most of us feel that,” she said.

She stood there a moment longer, then she went off down the length of the cellar, and Lill could hear her waking Tirtu and saying something to him, but he tried hard not to listen. Fortunately, Padunu, who had made his bed close by the foot of Lill’s couch, woke at this point and distracted him from eavesdropping.

“Do you need anything?” Padunu repeated Gurti’s question.

“Would you help me get dressed?”

“If you wish. It is the middle of the night—I think. Actually, I have no idea.”

“It’s a tactical problem, not knowing what time of day it is,” Lill mused.

“Well, I don’t know what time of day it is,” said Padunu, “but I’m fairly sure Lord Vanu does.”

“Where is he?”

Padunu looked around thoughtfully. “Probably still in the outer chamber, waiting to let Barda in. The scent of wine is less overpowering down there.” Tactfully, he didn’t elaborate.

Lill thought about Vanu retreating to another room to escape the scent of wine, how that must feel. He’d been raised to believe wine should be avoided because it dulled the senses and enslaved the mind. He didn’t know what it would feel like to crave it so much that you couldn’t let yourself have any.

Padunu was silent for a moment, then he got briskly to his feet. “So. You wanted to dress? I’ll help you. And I’ll show you where the outer room is.”

“Oh,” said Lill, surprised.

“Lord Vanu will be happy to see you, I’m sure.”

Lill wished he was sure of that himself. But he did want to go to Vanu; if Padunu had guessed that, he’d guessed right.

The outer chamber was small and square, with steps leading down from the door of the wine cellar. It was lit by daylight, or something that was not quite daylight, a weak, grey, predawn light, coming through a grate in the ceiling. There was a small hearth under the grate, which must have been Susami’s secret soup-making location. Vanu was sitting on the floor with his back against the left-hand wall, his head in his hands. He looked up when Padunu closed the cellar door behind Lill.

Lill stood at the top of the steps down from the wine cellar. He was wearing a rust-coloured dress, one of those lowland ones that opened at the front. Vanu wouldn’t have known that about lowland women’s dresses except that was what Lill’s wedding dress had been like. He remembered that very clearly. Lill had got his good arm in the right sleeve of this one, but the left side was just draped over his shoulder, and Vanu could see the white trousers he was wearing under the dress and his bandaged arm strapped across his stomach. His hair was in one thick braid over his shoulder—not his usual style, but somebody else must have braided it for him. His face was white, bruises showing on one cheek.

Vanu scrambled to his feet. “What do you need?” he signed.