She shrugged off his hand as she turned her face to the wall. ?Don?t tempt me, Rudi. It?s so… it?s so hard to keep saying no! I don?t want to! But I have to do what?s right.? ?It?s truly sorry I am,? Rudi said soberly.

Truly sorry, and very bewildered. And wishing you were a follower of the Old Religion, much more so than I ever have before.

She turned back to him and went on more softly:?Rudi, I can?t chance being pregnant in the wilderness. I just can?t. I?m… scared of it. And what if… Mother had a very hard time with me. They had to cut! We nearly both died, and that was with all the doctors in the Protectorate on hand, and Mother couldn?t have more children.?

He winced.?Matti, all that is as true as gold. But we?re going to be on this road a long time,? he said unhappily.?We?ve been a year and some months already, and we?re only three-quarters of the way! Matti, having the beauty of you there is going to be a torment, that it is. We?re betrothed now, not fancy-free.?

And it?s extremely awkward I would feel trying to take back the words. It?s?yes? I expected, or perhaps even?no,? but not?yes, in two years!? ?I know,? she said, and kissed him again.?It?s hard for me too. We?ll make an offering of the pain, and when we?re married, it will be all the sweeter for the memory.?

He stared at her.?Ah… Matti, I know that makes perfect sense to you, and as the Gods of my people witness, I respect it. There are many paths to the divine and they have their own rules; you can see it shining from Father Ignatius, and he?s not the only Christian I?ve met who was a holy man for all but the blind to see. But I?m not a Christian, you know, anamchara. My geasa are different. Sometimes I don?t think you realize quite how different, for all your time on the Clan?s land. And also a man and a woman are different in that way-?

This time she hit him in the pit of the stomach, where even a very strong man had no protection. The breath came out of him in an ooof; he wasn?t really winded enough to be helpless, but he did have to struggle with his half-paralyzed diaphragm for a moment. ?Rudi, I love you dearly, but sometimes you drive me crazy!? she said in a rush.?We?ll be married in Portland! When we get there! Now go away and come back when you?re… you?re civilized! Tomorrow! When you haven?t had so much to drink!?

The door closed; it almost slammed. Rudi clenched one big shapely hand into a fist and cocked it back as if he were going to punch it through the plaster-covered planks of the hallway?s wall. ?I drive you crazy, woman!? he snarled-softly.?Said the crow to the raven, what an exceeding blackness your feathers have!?

There were times when it was best to just walk away from a quarrel, even if you had just the telling word on your tongue-for example, the fact that her father had notoriously leapt on anything female that moved, and shaken most that weren?t to see if they were really shamming death, which was where he?d drawn the line. For that matter, Aunt Judy had told him the reason Sandra?s delivery of her daughter had been so hard had probably been that Norman Arminger had contracted a case of Aphrodite?s Measles from one of his numberless concubines.

Now that I can never say to her. It would be cruel. And perhaps she does know it, and it accounts for some of all this. I?m still angry enough to chew on nails, that I am!

At the end of the corridor he did kick the door; luckily it was a heavy thing of beveled oak planks. The pain in his toe made him want to punch the wall again. He stopped the motion with a slight snort of laughter at himself, and looked at the fingers of his right hand, wiggled them and sighed before making as if to kiss them. ?Not so fair and sweet as Mathilda are you,? he murmured.?Nor as dear to my heart, nor does the thought of you torment me with fair longings and warm dreams. But darlings, you?ve never said me no, have you the now??

He was still trying to curb his thoughts as he took the staircase to his own room three steps at a time, sure-footed as a cat in the darkness.

Discipline your mind, Master Hao said. Easier to do when faced with a deathmongering evil magus than close to the sweet-scented curved warm pleasantness of my Matti! he thought. And I am not a Christian. To me this makes no sense at all!

He wasn?t a sworn virgin either, and hadn?t been a virgin of any sort since that pleasant night in Dun Meillin when he was thirteen; nor had he and Mathilda ever been formally betrothed… Until recently, when it just seemed to have sort of happened without any particular day at which you could point, and now he?d gone and made it explicit.

Still, with her eyes upon him twenty-four hours a mortal day, this trip had involved more imitation of monkish chastity than he?d ever desired or practiced. When you were the Chief?s son and tall and handsome and had a way with words, he hadn?t needed to, given Mackenzie belief and custom. For that matter, according to the Clan?s way of looking at things, if she didn?t want to lie with him she had no grounds for objecting if he lay with another.

From now on it was going to be far worse, because she would object, and most mightily, and by her lights with reason. If they were to be handfasted, he couldn?t just disregard any part of her beliefs he didn?t happen to like.

I don?t know how poor Father Ignatius does it. Or doesn?t do it, so to say. With fidelity after we?re handfasted I have no problem whatsoever; Mathilda?s all the woman a man could need, and more. With years of waiting, a great many problems… do arise, and arise, and arise, to coin a phrase! And from my time in the Association lands, I know a great many Catholic ladies aren?t as stiff-necked about such matters as Mathilda, either. She wouldn?t be the darling she is if she weren?t sincere, but oh, how I could wish it were otherwise!

The guest quarters of the Sheriff?s house were in a part that was all built post-Change, of honest brick and stone and timber; there were plenty of rooms, since a wealthy landholder and leader had to be able to extend hospitality to many. All the travelers who weren?t paired had one to themselves, with empty space besides in between for their gear; his was a story up and around a ninety-degree turn that put him in a different wing. They were all grateful, good friends as they mostly were, privacy and quiet had been in short supply for most of their trip.

He stopped suddenly as he came close; there was a leak of candlelight under the door, and he certainly hadn?t left one lit when he went down to dinner-nobody played carelessly with naked flame, if they had any sense at all.

So someone is waiting for me, he thought. Now, isn?t that interesting?

Right now he?d almost welcome a fight. There was no sword at his belt, but he did have his dirk; the ten inches of double-edged killing steel slid into his hand, and he approached with a lightness that most found surprising in a man his size. Some had found it a fatal surprise, and not a floorboard creaked as he ghosted along the edge of the wall where that was least likely. He extended one hand to the knob and then paused.

Assassins didn?t usually start to sing as they lay in wait for you, not even very faint and sweet. Like a wisp of melody heard beneath the trees on a spring night that you could scarcely hear and might have imagined. It was a song he recognized too: not precisely a hymn, not quite, but a favorite of his people from their beginnings, and among the witch-folk before. ?So we?ll go no more a-roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright.?

Almost without his own will he answered, as quietly: ?For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself must rest!?

Their voices joined as he opened the door: ?For the night was made for loving,