CHAPTER
52
From Now Until the Last
That afternoon, Hilo went into the house and changed into his best suit. On his way out, he paused in front of the closed door of Kaul Sen’s room. Om saluted and stood aside to let him enter, but Hilo didn’t go in. He stared at the blank door, Perceiving his grandfather’s slow but steady heartbeat beyond it, his raspy breath, the weak texture of his aura, so shadowy now that he was down to almost no jade at all. The old man was napping in his chair. He’s tolerable when he’s asleep, Hilo thought.
As stunned and enraged as he’d been and still was, Hilo admitted that the act of giving jade to Doru to enable the traitor to escape was the most himself that the Torch had been in months. Sneaky and subversive, unbending, righteous in his principled fury. Right now, it wouldn’t surprise Hilo if the patriarch claimed the final victory and misfortune of outliving all his grandchildren. Hilo put a hand on the door but could think of nothing to be gained from going in. He turned and went down the stairs, exited the house, and walked the short path over to the Horn’s residence.
When Wen opened the door and saw him dressed so formally, she backed away from him and put her hands to her chest, bending as if in pain. She trembled as he stepped in the house and put his arms around her. “You’ve decided to go,” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “We have to be married today.”
Even though he’d prepared her for this possibility, she let out a desolate
noise and sagged against him slightly. “This isn’t how I’d imagined it at all.”
“Me neither.” He pressed the side of his face to the top of her silken head and closed his eyes. “I was imagining the biggest banquet and the best food.
A live band. And you, looking lovely with your hair done up and walking with your hand on my arm, in a long green dress. Or red, I like red just as well. I’d especially like it if the dress had a high collar, in a traditional style that’s elegant and modest, but then also had a slit up the thigh to show off what a sexy piece you are.”
“I already picked out the dress,” she warned him.
“Keep it hidden,” he said. “Don’t show it to me yet. We might still have everything we planned for—the banquet, the guests, the music—everything.
Later.”
“We will,” she said. “You’ll come back after you’ve done what you need to.”
He smiled and kissed her on the brow, touched by the certainty in her voice. “I will,” he said. “But no matter what, you’ll be safe. Shae has Espenian connections; I don’t know how she managed to do this, but she’s arranged visas for you, your brothers, Grandda, and Anden. She’ll get all of
you out of the Mountain’s reach.”
“Kehn and Tar won’t go,” Wen said.
“I’ve ordered them to. They can’t stand the idea of running, but in this case, they’re sure to die if they stay. Better to live for a chance to settle the score later. You’ll have to remind them, and hold them to my orders, if it comes to that.”
“If it comes to that,” Wen said. “I don’t think it will.”
“I don’t think so either,” he assured her. “It’s still important, though, that we get married today, just in case.”
“Just in case,” she agreed. She rubbed the gathering of tears from her eyes and stepped out of his embrace. “I’ll get changed. Give me a few minutes.”
He sat down in the front room and waited, thinking, as he looked around, that this really was a nice house, that he would’ve enjoyed living in it with her, the way it was now. Wen returned a few minutes later, wearing makeup, a soft, pretty blue dress, and a pearl necklace and earrings. Hilo smiled and stood to offer her his arm, and they went out into the courtyard to be wed.
Judge Ledo, a man well trusted and paid by the clan, had been summoned to officiate the marriage. Kehn and Shae stood as witnesses. The civil
ceremony took only a few minutes, not the hour or more of chanting that would’ve been involved under Deitist tradition, but the legal marriage vows still harkened to the Divine Virtues.
I will practice humility: putting my beloved before myself, expecting no praise or reward, for now we are joined in all things.
I will practice compassion: giving gratitude for my beloved, suffering when they suffer, for now we are joined in all things.
I will practice courage: protecting my beloved from harm, facing all fears from within or without, for now we are joined in all things.
I will practice goodness: offering freely of myself to my beloved, honoring and caring for each other in body and soul, for now we are joined in all things.
I make this pledge to you and you alone, under the eyes of the gods in Heaven, from this moment until the last one of my life.
Wen’s expression weakened, fighting tears, as Hilo repeated after Judge Ledo, reciting the final words. From this moment until the last one of my life.
How long would that be? Hilo felt the vows settle into him, binding him with a different power than the clan oaths that had directed his entire adult life.
Already he felt a curious compulsion to try to reconcile the two sets of pledges, sensing the impossibilities he’d encounter in the attempt. Gazing at Wen’s lovely, trusting face, he was struck with remorse that he couldn’t, even with the consuming love he felt for her, promise not to break her heart.
Because there were times a man couldn’t be loyal to a brother and compassionate to his wife at the same time. A jade warrior couldn’t truly be joined in all things with his beloved, not when he’d promised his blood to the clan.
Wen took a steadying breath and said her vows with a strength that made him admire and appreciate her all the more. Kehn stepped forward to tie their wrists together with strips of cloth, right to left on each side as they faced each other, and Shae placed the cup of hoji in their joined hands. They both drank from it, then poured it on the ground to call forth good luck. Judge Ledo pronounced them married.
Hilo knew it was a poor wedding for the Pillar of the clan. He was deeply sorry for having robbed Wen of the grand and joyful occasion she deserved.
But the important thing was that she was his wife now, and if she became his widow tomorrow, she’d have everything he’d promised to leave her. The
Mountain couldn’t touch assets bequeathed to family members through wills.
Wen would have enough to start up a new life, a safer life, in Espenia. And for now at least, he was her husband, and that made him happy, happier than he’d been in a long time.
He took Wen to the main house and up to his room, where he shut the door and undressed her and made love to her. They kept the soft lamplight on and took turns guiding each other, not speaking in words but with the silent brushing of skin across skin, the contact of fingertips and mouths, the merging of breaths. Hilo ached to stretch this oasis of time to its breaking point; whenever he crested toward climax, he denied himself and turned his attention to Wen instead, until she was spent with pleasure and whispering sweetly for him to give in. At last, with fierce desperation and quivering reluctance, he found release, and afterward tried to stay awake long enough to burn the merciful moment so indelibly into his mind that he could be certain it would be the last thing he would remember.