no memories in that place for him, and likely he would never know that it had been Toreth’s unless someone told him.
The pen was empty, the sand clean and smooth, the room held only the cot and some linen. Even Toreth’s colors had been painted over on the door outside the room. Re-eth-ke had new colors now, scarlet and white, chosen by Aket-ten.
Kiron found an unoccupied slave and sent him in search of the things that Kaleth would need for his comfort.
Then he went in search of Heklatis, and told him what was toward.
“I don’t know what his parents think they’re doing,” he said bleakly, “But something tells me that if we don’t get him away from them, he’ll—do something drastic.”
The Healer nodded.
“Good. This is the best place for him. I will make a potion so he can sleep when he is wept out; I suspect he has done as little of that as of sleeping.”
Kiron sent a message to Lord Ya-tiren; three slaves returned laden with cushions and lamps, scrolls and papyrus and all the things a scribe needed, including a comfortable chair, a clever little table. In short, all the things needed to make the little chamber into a place of welcome and refuge for a scholar.
It was an unexpected and amazingly kind and thoughtful act that brought tears to Kiron’s eyes again. He could not help but contrast this with Kaleth’s own parents and their actions.
But then, Lord Ya-tiren was a scholar, and he understood another such. Lord Ya-tiren knew the truth and believed it; apparently Kaleth’s parents were not even willing to listen to it. Or they were too afraid to acknowledge that it was the truth. Kiron blessed his benefactor’s name, vowed to find a way to make it up to him, and got the chamber in readiness. And when the wing brought Kaleth back with them, Heklatis, too, was waiting there.
Kiron had expected Aket-ten to be foremost of those offering Kaleth comfort, but to his surprise, she was nowhere to be found. It was only when he heard the sound of light sandals on the stone, and looked out into the corridor, that he saw her. And she was not alone; there was a young woman with her—a woman several years Kiron’s senior, dressed in the kind of expensive linen gown and jewels, the elaborate wig and face paint, that a court lady would wear.
For one wild moment, he wondered if this was Kaleth’s mother—but a better look told him that if she had given birth to the twin princes, she would have had to do so as a toddler. And it was only when Aket-ten shoved the boys aside so that the young woman could get to Kaleth’s side, when he watched Kaleth’s face transform when he saw her, and saw him seek her embrace as a refuge from the world, that he realized that this wasn’t a sister either.
Aket-ten, with a look on her face that said that she was very satisfied with her work, shoved past the boys again to get to Kiron. She cleared her throat significantly; the boys started, and looked at her, and when she took Kiron’s elbow and steered him out into the corridor, they followed suit.
“Aket-ten,” said Gan incredulously, “Is that Marit-te-en?”
She nodded. “Toreth might have been indifferent to his betrothed, but Kaleth is not Toreth.” She sighed. “All things considered, maybe that wasn’t so bad. Anyway, I had the feeling when Marit didn’t turn up at the rites that either Kaleth was avoiding her, or that her people were keeping her from him. I went to her parents’ house to find out which; they couldn’t stop me from seeking her out, so when I found out that she was frantic with worry for him, I got her and brought her here.”
“Couldn’t stop. . . .” Gan snorted. “Now that’s an understatement. They wouldn’t dare snub the daughter of Lord Ya-tiren.”
Aket-ten shrugged. “If she says she’s visiting me, and it isn’t common knowledge that Kaleth is here, then I see no reason to enlighten anyone as to who she’s really seeing.”
“You did exactly the right thing,” Kiron told her warmly, and she flushed, and smiled a little, for the first time in sixty days.
“And so did you,” she replied. “I think he should stay here from now on and never go home. His parents are being horrid to him; they believe everything the Magi have been saying about Toreth, and they’re taking it out on Kaleth.