I have a particular job for you today,' Van told Merle. I need you to keep an eye on Celena. Don't tease her, and don't take her things just stay with her, and make sure she doesn't run off or do anything stupid.'
I thought she had to stay in bed,' Merle said resentfully. Van had interrupted her while she was washing her face after breakfast, and she felt that she did not look her best.
Keep her there if you can,' he said, but I won't worry about her as long as I know you're watching her. I trust you, Merle.'
Well, you should,' said Merle, a little mollified. I'm not just a pretty face. I could do lots of things to help you.' She pushed back her hair with a preening little gesture; it was rather sophisticated for her.
You help me all the time, just by being yourself. I have to speak to the alpha male of the northern hills pack this morning, about letting us hunt in their territory until our farms recover, and I might be having lunch with his people if things go well, but you should see me again in the afternoon. If she whines about staying in bed, you could take her to the garden.'
It was in the garden that he found them when he came home, feeling vaguely sick to his stomach as he always did after any diplomatic dealing with the wolf people. A lunch of raw meat would probably do him no more harm than a very rare steak, but he could think of things he would rather eat. He would be tasting blood till bedtime. He had even been offered a share of the liver of the deer they had killed in honour of their agreement, which was a great compliment, liver still warm from the life-heat of the body, full of the vital energy of the prey but it was still liver. Ick.
The castle garden, like everything else in central Fanelia, was in the early stages of recovery from devastation by fire. At the moment it had a good crop of rosebay willowherb, and determined efforts were getting some late-season vegetable plots into a respectable state. There was no time to spare on raising decorative plants, but Van found the rows of cabbage and carrots rather pleasing to his eyes. Merle and Celena were sitting in the shade of a canvas windbreak, with their heads together in a very chummy manner, giggling over something Celena held in her hands.
What's the joke?' he asked, sitting down at Merle's side, prepared to be amicable. He also sat down rather carefully so as not to jolt his stomach, which was feeling bloated.
We made a fortune-teller,' said Celena, holding out a pointed thingummy made of folded paper, its quarters scribbled in with different colours of crayon. Choose your favourite colour!'
It isn't there,' Van objected. You've only got blue, orange, green and purple.'
Those were the only usable crayons we could find,' Merle explained. The other ones were melted to the box. Pretend orange is red.'
Right!' said Celena, snapping the foxglove mouth of the fortune-teller open and shut in time with the letters she recited. R-E-D spells red.' The fortune-teller was left split open, with four numbered panels visible inside. Choose your lucky number.'
It isn't there either,' Van said.
Well, choose the number you like best out of two, four, six and eight.'
I like three.'
You can't have three, it's not in this opening,' Merle protested. Celena nodded righteously.
You let me have red and it's not there. Pretend two is three!'
You're not doing it properly,' Celena said. Don't blame me if you get the wrong fortune.' She unfolded the flap marked with a two and offered it to him to see.
Before this day is out, you will be wearing a duck on your head,' he read out, puzzled by the snorts of laughter this provoked in the two girls.
We made up silly ones on purpose,' Merle explained.
Yes, I can see that. Give it here.' He twitched the paper oracle out of Celena's hands and unfolded all its panels, so that it resembled an overblown white rose.
A chicken will cross the road because of you. Are they all about poultry? You will learn how to hide behind yourself. Say "squrrox" straight away or you will be eaten by a badger the size of Escaflowne. What is this nonsense?'
We thought they were very funny when we wrote them,' said Celena with dignity, attempting to retrieve the fortune-teller, which he held away from her. You'd better hurry up and say "squrrox."'
He said it when he read it,' Merle pointed out. And Van-sama's not afraid of some crummy old badger, anyway. Did you have a good day, Van-sama?'
Pretty good, except I think I'm going to throw up and it'll mostly be red. We don't need to worry about where we'll get meat from this winter. The wolfmen were very willing to help, so long as we asked nicely.'
I'm so glad!' Celena said. Van and Merle both looked at her oddly.
Why? You're not going to be here then,' Merle said.
Well, I'm glad because it will make things easier for you, won't it?'
Fair enough,' said Merle, dropping the subject because she was suddenly distracted by a cabbage white butterfly fluttering through the air nearby. She pounced at it with claws outstretched, but missed by quite a long way and succeeded only in falling into Van's lap and scratching his right leg.
Ouch! Get off me, furball!'
That's not the way to do it,' Celena said, gazing at the butterfly which had been diverted in her direction as it avoided Merle's attack. A second later she reached out and simply took the butterfly from the air, as neatly and quickly as though it had waited for her. She cupped her right hand around her left, making a sort of round box of her fingers with the butterfly sealed inside.
Let it go!' Van said. He had been unnerved by the swiftness and precision of that movement. A moment ago he had been scruffling Merle's hair while she yelled in mock protest, but suddenly it had stopped feeling like a game. Celena did not know how to play.
I'm not hurting it,' Celena murmured, staring at her rounded hands. It's like a little heart, a little life beating against my skin.'
Let it go!' He lunged forward, spilling Merle onto the ground, and seized Celena's wrists to force her hands apart. The cabbage white zig-zagged back into the air, seeming a little stunned but none the worse for its experience. Van found himself staring into the palms of Celena's motionless hands, wondering what had become of her bandage.
You should have let her squash it,' Merle said behind him. The gardener says their caterpillars eat all the veggies.'
I didn't want to squash it!' Celena protested. I only wanted to show how I could catch it.'
It was a really good catch, too,' Merle told her. I want you to teach me how!'
Where's your bandage?' Van asked Celena, trying to redirect the conversation.
The doctor came and looked at my hand this morning and he said it was so much better it didn't need one any more,' she explained. He says it can get better in the air now. I just need to keep it clean and be careful of it, and keep putting aloe stuff on it.' The blister was still there, flat, white and empty, with a border of inflamed skin around it, but it was no longer livid and angry.
Schezars are always fast healers,' Celena said, with a trace of pride. Allen told me.'
Oh. Good,' Van said. At this rate there might be no sign of the burn by the time Allen turned up to claim his sister. There might be no retribution at all. He was not sure if he was glad or sorry.
So could you let go now? You're kind of hurting my wrists.'
Van let go of her arms with alacrity. He felt thoroughly foolish for overreacting, but he never knew what it was appropriate to do around Celena. Sorry,' he said awkwardly.
That's all right,' she replied, carefully flexing her left wrist. It's just another example of you being kind. You didn't want even a bug to get hurt.'
Yeah, but he's happy to eat bugs,' said Merle. Like we had for lunch, those big toasted slaters. Maybe he just didn't want you to mush butterfly guts into your hand. Maybe that's not good for burns.'
Have butterflies got guts?' Celena asked seriously. I always thought that caterpillars were just little eating machines, and butterflies didn't eat anything at all. They're only really alive to breed, so there can be more caterpillars.'
To eat our cabbages, the little rotters,' said Merle indignantly.
You won't touch cabbage,' Van reminded her. You hate it.'
I do not! I love cabbages so much that I can't bring myself to eat them, and I don't think anyone else should either! Oh, the poor little things!' Merle clasped her hands under her chin and made a sentimental shining-eyes face.
You little nutcase, Merly,' said Celena, laughing.
Her name is Merle,' Van said. Will you please stop messing with people's names? You can leave mine alone for a start.'
I've never done a thing to your name,' Celena replied stiffly. I only shorten people's names when they're my friends, and you still don't seem to want to act like my friend. I told you all that important stuff last night and all you said was that I should go to sleep, and now you just keep being grumpy no matter what I do. And I can't think of anything to do to your name anyway. It's too short.' She folded her arms and turned her back on him.
Oh, so this is a Celena who's angry with me? I suppose she's a change from the other ones.'
What are you talking about?' Merle asked. When did you talk last night? What did you say? It's not fair to have secrets!'
We don't have secrets!' Van exclaimed defensively. I didn't even want to talk to her but she hung around!'
Stop acting mean!' Celena snapped at him over her shoulder. I don't know why you keep being like this! If you would be my friend we'd both be happy!'
Will you get it through your head that I don't like you?' Van demanded. And what's the point of making friends with you? You're going to go away again! And good riddance!'
Stop fighting!' Merle yelled. You were getting along perfectly all right just a few minutes ago. And I like Celena now I know her so you can just leave her alone um Van-sama.'
Are you telling me what to do, Merle?' Van got to his feet. He was planning to storm off. He was planning to just go and leave them feeling stupid. Celena had no right to speak to him that way and it was simply disloyal of Merle to take her side. She had never thought he was wrong before. Whatever he had said or done had been wonderful as far as Merle was concerned. He was all ready to stalk away coldly when the afternoon sun was dimmed, and a great shadow passed over them. They all looked up, automatically, and saw a sort of inky blot passing over the face of the sun. Then it was out of the dazzle and sliding across the blue and white sky, and the amorphous dark shape acquired clear features, stretched leathery wings, a swinging rudder of a tail.
A dragon,' Merle breathed, huddled on the ground. I thought they had gone away now people have come back.'
It's just flying over,' Van reassured her. Look how high it is. It's not coming here. You're not in any danger. Keep still. I bet from up there it won't even notice us.' He was surprised that Celena was not having some silly hysterical reaction. He wanted to keep his eyes fixed on the flying dragon, moving with deceptive slowness, so that it almost seemed it should drop from the sky, but he also felt he should at least check on what she was doing. He let his eyes turn sideways and down, and located Celena standing a few feet from him, standing between two rows of cabbages, gazing up at the sky. Gazing ecstatically up at the sky. She looked like someone in a religious painting, with one hand pressed to her heart and the other reaching wistfully towards heaven. She looked as though she had never seen anything so lovely in her life. Part of him wanted to say It's just a dragon.' Another part wanted to see it as she did, because it looked so enjoyable. He watched her watch the dragon until it vanished over the boundary of the hills around Fanelia's heart. Then her outstretched hand gradually fell, and she gave a long, soft exhalation, as though she were being slowly deflated.
A flying dragon,' she murmured. It looked black, not white but it was like the dragon in my dreams'
You dream about dragons?' Merle asked. Poor you!'
No, they're the most beautiful dreams,' Celena said, shaking her head. A great white dragon trailing a tail of light, like a comet, flying so fast it tears the sky. I see it and I run out and wave and it swoops down and carries me away, and I see the whole world spread out like a map. Flying is the most wonderful feeling. It's the one thing Dilandau got to do that I really truly miss. But it's even better in my dreams, because you aren't all sealed in with liquid metal and hissing machinery and that. In my dreams it's just the dragon holding me, and the air shines, and the wind plays in my hair I've dreamed that three times. It's the only dream I've had since I turned back. I think I dreamed it when I was little too, but it's harder to remember. A flying white dragon'
They're sort of grey-green,' Van said. Oily-looking. And if you'd ever got close to one you wouldn't forget the smell in a hurry. Dragons aren't pretty dream-creatures.'
I don't imagine it's a real dragon in my dreams,' Celena said. It's an idea of a dragon. Or a dragon of an idea. I mean, you're not a dragon, but they called you The Dragon all through the war in Zaibach. Do you notice how if you say one word too many times it just turns into a noise, and you don't know what it means any more?'
You do know, don't you,' Merle said hesitantly, that Van-sama is half Draconian? That's why he can fly. Without machinery. Like in your dream.'
It is not like her dream,' Van said hastily. I'm not giving anyone rides. I don't even like flying.'
Since when?' Merle asked.
Oh, stop it,' he said. I don't want to talk about it any more. I'm tired out and I feel queasy. You might like raw liver, Merle, but I can't take much of it. I'm going to have a bath, and you two can just both leave me alone.'
Van-sama!' Merle exclaimed, her face falling in dismay.
Fine!' Celena said. I don't care.' Her eyes were very bright and wet-looking for someone who didn't care. I hope Allen's better soon. Then I can go home and be with people who aren't hateful. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you're mean to me, but you're supposed to love Merle.' She turned and flounced away in the direction of the back entrance of the castle, the way Van had planned to go. Merle gave him one more dreadful hurt look, and bounded after her.
Oh, hell,' said Van, with great feeling. He considered kicking a cabbage to relieve his feelings, but didn't feel right about the waste of food. How had that happened? He hadn't walked up to them wanting a fight. He'd thought it was nice that they were getting on. He had played along with their fortune-teller joke, even though he'd thought it was very silly, and they were sort of having fun. It had been an odd feeling to relax like that, to let someone else into the circle of his feelings besides Merle and Hitomi. Then Celena had spoiled it with that butterfly trick. Or he had spoiled it with how he reacted. And it could still have been all right if only he hadn't bristled up when she monkeyed with Merle's name. Why did he get so cross about that? He had decided last night not to be angry with Celena any more. Perhaps it was like the phantom pain. Even when your thinking mind knew there was no reason for it, the feeling went on. Except this was hurting other people, not just him. Upsetting Merle had made him feel horrible. With Hitomi feeling so distant, it suddenly seemed that he was alone, and making himself more alone. It was crazy to isolate himself like this. If he didn't have any friends at all, he wouldn't feel human. He had to apologise.
He was about to go to do so when his name was called. The castle seneschal was hurrying out into the garden towards him, looking businesslike.
Van-sama, we've just been informed that a small merchant fleet is arriving by air. They sent a messenger ahead by glider. Mr Dryden Fassa's compliments, and could you come out to meet him? There's something he wants to discuss.'
Van was ushered on board Dryden's flagship with a minimum of ceremony. He was rather surprised to see that Dryden had a fleet again so soon, although the ships were not as vast as the former ones. He must have had other resources to draw on. The furnishing of the room Van was shown to certainly did not indicate any financial trimming of sails. There were woven hangings on the walls, rather good examples of traditional Freidian narrative tapestries. The carpet on the floor had the sort of patterns you could spend hours meditating upon, finding different pictures and faces as you might in clouds. The servant who had guided him left him sitting at a glassily-polished rosewood table with a glass of yellow-green wine. Van twiddled the glass around by its stem, feeling out of sorts with himself, and thoroughly underdressed.
The door opened and a young woman looked into the room. She was decidedly out of the ordinary in appearance, having long curtains of turquoise-coloured hair, which did not hide the fact that her ears were unusually long and pointed at the tips. Her complexion was so fair as to be almost translucent, and her eyes were the colour of the sea with the sun on it. She gave Van a welcoming smile and entered, a little awkwardly because she walked with the aid of a carved stick. She was handsomely dressed in rich amber-coloured silk, which rustled like softly-running water. Whoever she was, she was so pretty that he did not quite know how to look at her without staring.
I think you must be the young King of Fanelia,' she said. Please excuse me for not curtseying, but you see I'm still learning to walk properly, and I think it would be courting disaster.'
I'm sorry,' said Van, quickly rising to offer her his chair. Did you have an accident?'
Oh no,' she said, waving him away, I'm just not used to having legs. My name is Sylvie. I'm well, technically he's still married so I suppose I have to call myself Dryden's mistress, but that doesn't sound very nice, does it? As though he were a slave. I could sound very businesslike and call myself his partner. You look rather shocked. Didn't you hear that things haven't worked out between him and Millerna?'
I was just wondering what you meant about not being used to having legs.'
It's a long story, which I probably wouldn't have time to tell you before Dryden arrives. I'm just here to see that you're quite comfortable. He's having to oversee some delicate unpacking. Suffice it to say that I was born a mermaid. Isn't it funny how people can change?'
Van was making a manful effort to think of something to say in reply when the door opened again and Dryden came in. He looked rather tired, as though the past few months had been hard on him, but he seemed cheerful and greeted Van warmly.
It's good to see you,' Van said politely. But I'm not sure what brings you here. No-one here can afford to buy your goods. I don't think we could have bought much from you even before the war.'
Well, I hope I haven't come for nothing,' Dryden said. I've got a cargo of all the most useful and utilitarian things I could think of and a few comforts and treats just to raise people's spirits. It makes a change from trading in luxury goods and collectors' items, I can tell you that. But it's a lot more satisfying sometimes, when you know people really needed what you've brought them. I'm sure we can arrange some terms that are mutually satisfactory.'
I don't want to get into debt,' Van said, with a touch of pride, before his tone became somewhat abashed. I mean, I already am in your debt. You saved my life. I don't want to compound that by imposing on you. And I really can't give you a fair trade.'
You didn't tell me you saved a king's life,' said Sylvie, who was now sitting on the edge of the table, and poked Dryden in the leg with her stick. That's not up to your normal standards of bragging.'
I'm sure I told you about it,' he said. The whole thing with the Ispano Clan, remember? When I was so clever and competent? In fact, Van, I don't consider that a debt at all. I was more than repaid by the experience and knowledge that came out of it. To get to see a genuine Ispano guymelef, and to meet its makers themselves not to mention everything that happened after! I did it because the whole situation was just so interesting. I got just what I wanted out of it. We're even, I assure you. Consider the debt settled. What I want to propose is a new arrangement, which, again, I feel will be an even trade. In fact, I might even be said to gain more from it than you will, since it's a sort of investment for the future.'
How do you mean?' Van asked. My kingdom really doesn't have any money, and we need everything we produce for ourselves at the moment. Do you want to buy Escaflowne or something? Because I can't sell it. Even if I'm not going to use it again, I don't feel I have any right to get rid of it. It's belonged to too many people before me to be fully mine to sell.'
No, I don't want to buy it,' Dryden said, although if you'd let me examine it closely some time I'll be your best friend. What I'm thinking about is somewhat more immaterial than that, but nonetheless very useful. Let me ask you something. What's your tax system like, here in Fanelia? I suppose things may be a little disorganised right now, you may not be collecting as normal, but am I right in thinking that you don't have any particular taxes on businesses? That is, employers are only taxed as individuals, and you don't levy a higher percentage from the higher income brackets?'
Er no,' said Van. I've never looked into that too closely. Things like rents and tithes have been set for centuries, and we haven't needed to change them. You've got to understand that the royal family of Fanelia has never actually been rich. Our assets are the castle and Escaflowne, practical things. When we've needed extra money for something like a military campaign, it's more like taking up a collection than levying taxes. And most of our business is barter. We're not a cash economy. I mean, unless we sold something to another country, we'd have to pay you in cattle, or bolts of cloth, or manpower. Which we simply can't spare at the moment.'
Excellent!' said Dryden. Here's what I propose. I'm severing my links to my father's businesses and setting up by myself. I'm tired of my work benefiting him when we disagree on so many things, and when I find many of his business practices grossly unethical. Fortunately I've always had the sense to acquire assets in my own name. I have plenty I can take away with me, and this fleet is the beginning of it. You're privileged to be getting in on the ground floor of the Mystic Moon Mercantile corporation.'
How do you mean? And why are you calling it that?'
It's a whim,' Dryden said, and shrugged. I just like the Ms. I'm offering you a sizeable payment, in cash and goods, in return for something you can give me quite easily. I wish to use Fanelia as a tax haven. For all official purposes, M-M-M will be based here, and thus its revenues will be subject only to Fanelian taxes. I'll actually run things from wherever I happen to be, but head office will be located in this lovely little city, just as a sort of figurehead.'
Calling it Ememem sounds silly,' Sylvie interrupted. We could say Three Ms instead.'
Three M? I quite like the sound of that,' Dryden said. And you see, Van, it's not simply that I want to get out of making any financial contribution to society. You'll find me most valuable as a pillar of the Fanelian community. I intend to make a name for myself as a philanthropist, and I certainly don't forget people who help me. It's simply that it's so expensive to get a major undertaking like this off the ground that I want to minimise the drains on my resources in the first few years. It will pay off handsomely in future. I'm sure there are many material things you want for your kingdom, and I can get them for you at mates' rates. You've already made your name as a warrior king. I don't think anyone will forget what you did this year. But just think if you can also get yourself in the history books as a great peacetime monarch, an architect of growth and prosperity. Someone who saw the shape of the future and grabbed onto it with both hands.'
I'm not sure you need to sell it quite that hard,' Sylvie said, smiling. Now let Van-sama get a word in edgeways, and tell you what he thinks of the plan.'
Are you saying you'll give us this cargo you've brought? Food supplies for winter? Do you have things like construction materials, tools, clothing, equipment for mills and weaving?'
Absolutely,' Dryden said. Everything you could want to get you through the rest of this year and off to a good start in the new one. You won't have to struggle or depend on outside aid. If there's something else you want as part of the first payment when you've seen over the lot we've brought, just say the word and within reason, we'll provide it. We've brought things you may not have thought of, too. Does Fanelia have a printing press? When you control the spread of information, you control knowledge, and knowledge is power. What's the literacy rate like in this kingdom? You could improve on that. You could even gain an advantage over your neighbours that way, since your population is small enough for you to directly affect and guide the lives of a high percentage of the citizens. The world's changing. One thing you can count on about a war there's generally a leap in technology afterwards. Zaibach was a technocracy. Countries who can keep pace with the kind of thing they produced are going to be the frontrunners of the future, and public education will be essential to that.'
We don't want to be like Zaibach,' Van said anxiously. And I don't know that I want Fanelia to be that prominent. I think people here are happier for being a little out of the way. I've been out in the world and I didn't see anything to make me wish Fanelia was more like the rest of it.'
I'm just saying that if you gain this power, you'll have a choice. You can make changes, instead of being made to change.'
And even if Dryden's business fails, you'll be all right this winter, and I think that's what you really want to know about,' Sylvie said.
I beg your pardon, if my business fails? Are you a fifth column in my midst?' Dryden grinned at his companion. Don't even mention the possibility! You'll queer the deal. What do you say, Van?'
Van chewed at his lower lip, turning the wineglass round and round on the table in front of him. It was at times like this that he felt the least like a real king and the most like a fifteen-year-old boy from the sticks; that he wondered the most why in the world it was that he was considered the right person to make such huge decisions, potentially affecting the lives of all his people for generations to come, just because of who his parents were.
Do you want to see the children going hungry, barefoot in winter, with no new clothes to wear when the ones on their backs wear out? Do you want Fanelia to have to struggle just to get back to where it was before the war, while all the rest of them leap ahead? But what if there's some catch in this that I can't see because I don't understand business? Dryden wouldn't exploit me, would he? I wish Balgus was here. He wouldn't tell me what to do, but I could look back at him over my shoulder, and he'd give me a tiny nod, or a little frown, just to let me know what he thought. I wish I was smart like Folken. I wish I had time to finish being a boy before having to be a man. They want an answer.
I'd like to see what you're offering me before I commit myself to anything,' he said at last.
What Van saw struck him as the most astonishing treasure trove. It was simply a sample of the merchandise laid out in one of the ships' cargo bays, without any elaborate display or decoration, but the things themselves were more than enough to impress him.
That's one of those new combination harvesters!' he exclaimed, staring at a complicated contraption of which the most recognisable part was the place to put a horse. I heard you can get a whole harvest in in a day with one of those. We couldn't use it this season, of course, but next year and let me see that manifest? We wouldn't have that much flour if we'd had a normal wheat harvest. What kind of clothes did you bring? No offence, but we're not really interested in the latest fashions from Pallas. People need practical stuff. We especially need children's clothes. There are too many kids going round in smocks cut down from their dads' shirts and soon it won't be warm enough for the men to go without shirts. And shoes.'
Multitudes of shoes,' Dryden promised. I think they may have bred in their cases. All sizes, and styles from workboots to slippers. I appreciate the need for practicality, and that you feel your people come first, but I wonder whether you've thought much about your own wardrobe?'
Van looked down at himself, and cringed slightly when he was reminded of which shirt he was wearing. It had this stain on it when I got it,' he said hastily. And I don't know what it is but I've had it boiled.'
You don't like wearing it, do you?' Dryden asked, cocking his head to one side quizzically.
Well, no, but it's what I've got clean.'
What do you think it says to your people when they see you dressed like that?'
That I'm in the same boat as the rest of them. That I'm accepting the same hardships, and doing my share to get things back to normal.'
I'm just saying that it can be pretty discouraging for people to see their king walking around looking shabby and scruffy,' Dryden said. Looking like he can't do any better. And Sylvie, I'll save you the trouble of making the obvious pot and kettle analogy. I know I didn't dress up when I was temporary top dog in Asturia, but it was wartime, a state of emergency, right? What Van has to devote himself to is a return to normality, and you can't foster normality while dressing worse than you normally would. If you look the part it's easier to play the part, I always think.'
I really admire how you can rationalise anything,' Sylvie said, shaking her head. But I do think you're right. No-one is suggesting you should order cloth-of-gold undies, Van-sama I'm sure they would be itchy anyway but wouldn't you feel good in more impressive clothes?'
I'm not wearing puffy sleeves,' Van said quickly.
Puffy sleeves are on the way out,' Sylvie said with assurance. Military chic has had it. I've made a thorough survey of the fashion magazines and I know whereof I speak.'
Which is quite good for someone who spent the first nineteen years of her life not wearing clothes at all,' Dryden said, glancing at his pocket-watch. I'd better finish those letters if I want the messenger to catch the post at the frontier. Sylvie, why don't you show him some things? I leave the matter in your capable hands.'
Right!' said Sylvie, turning to Van, who was just trying not to think of nineteen naked years and hoping the effort didn't show in his face. If you're agreeable, of course, I have some things I'd really like to show you. Since I've had to wear clothes myself I've gotten very interested in them. The first time I saw you, I said to myself, he's exactly right for a Withington suit.' She gestured to him to follow her, and made her way off among the cases and bales in the cargo bay, at quite a good pace for someone with a walking stick.
I'm not interested in being fashionable,' Van said nervously, hurrying to catch up. If you just show me where I can get some shirts and pants and maybe a couple of pullovers for winter I'll be fine.'
Oh, it's not about fashion. It's about style, and knowing how to make the most of yourself. I've been learning the rules! No-one's going to catch me wearing white shoes in winter or mixing gold and silver jewellery. Look here.' She showed him a long wheeled rack with suits hanging from it, tugging one out on its hanger. This should be about your size. What would you be, one sixty, one sixty-five? You might want the trouser legs taken up a little. What do you weigh?'
I don't know,' Van admitted. Without quite knowing how it happened, he found himself trying on the waistcoat and jacket, Sylvie darting around him giving little tugs here and there to get everything adjusted to her satisfaction. Rather than a row of fastenings, the waistcoat and jacket each had one large button closing a sort of triangular flap in the front, which reminded Van of the flap of an envelope. The point of the jacket's front went left and the waistcoat's went right; the waistcoat was a deep russet colour while the jacket was rich dark brown. The vee of ugly shirt visible at his neckline looked even worse compared with their handsomeness. Sylvie turned him toward a tall mirror he had not known was there, and exclaimed There! How do you like yourself?'
Van looked at his reflection with something approaching alarm. He looked like a grown-up. All right, a short grown-up, but that was splitting hairs. He turned round slowly, stiffly, craning his neck to see himself from all angles. The jacket was darted in at the waist in the back; it went down to two broad square tails.
That's very new,' Sylvie pointed out, noticing what he was looking at. People still like a bit of a sweep but the funny thing is, now girls are adopting the front-fastening overskirt with trousers, like the Princess, men are going off wearing it. So it's tailcoats. And it really suits you. You can see it, can't you? It looks right. You look as though you own the suit. I'll find you a white shirt, and you can try it on with the pants.'
It was probably because Sylvie's prettiness made him feel so shy that Van quite meekly went behind the rack of suits to change. He felt quite out of his depth, and was not at all sure why he had allowed himself to be talked into looking at clothes in the first place. He should not be thinking of himself. This suit felt good, there was no denying it. The way the coat sat on his shoulders, weight enough to feel substantial but not so much as to be cumbersome; the fit of the waist of the trousers, the same as his favourite old pair of pants that he hardly wore now because he was afraid they would wear out like everything else, and he would have nothing comfortable and familiar left at all. They felt like his clothes although they were new. When he looked again in the mirror, for what Sylvie termed the full effect,' he was taken aback again by how stately he looked, like someone to be taken seriously. He couldn't help wondering if people like Allen Schezar and King Aston would have spoken to him differently when they first met him, if he'd been dressed like this.
Oh yes,' said Sylvie, nodding with approval. I was exactly right. This is the suit for you. It's innovative, but it's a classic in its own way. Minimalist, such a change from the puffs and ruffs of the last few years. Don't you look handsome! I mean, I know you said you didn't care about being fashionable, but there's no harm in impressing the girls, right? Is there anyone special for you?'
Van could feel the blood rising in his face. There there are two girls who are very special to me, and there's one who I sort of can't get rid of.'
Oh,' said Sylvie dryly. Been exercising our droit de seigneur and now we regret it?'
What? No! Good grief, no!' His cheeks were as hot as the fresh liver of the deer had been. It's not like that with either of them!'
Either of the special ones? What about the other?'
Certainly not with her. It's none of your business anyway!'
I'm sorry,' Sylvie said, and made a sort of half-bow. I was forgetting myself, Van-sama. I mean, it's not really my place to criticise other people in that department.'
I'm not doing anything to criticise,' he said wretchedly. How old do you think I am? I'm only fifteen.'
Well, fifteen is a perfectly nice age to start exploring,' she said with a shrug, although I think it's ridiculous for people to enter into an adult relationship like marriage so young. Marrying a fifteen-year-old girl to Dryden, for example well, obviously they weren't going to be happy. I'm sure he would have realised that in a little while even if she had been interested in him. Don't you think? He would have wanted to be with someone about his own age, surely. Although if Allen Schezar likes girls who are ridiculously young for him I'm sure he's welcome to Millerna.'
He does like girls who are ridiculously young for him,' Van said. I think it's creepy. His sister is that age!'
Your age,' Sylvie agreed. Hey! There's a thought! He's more or less stolen Dryden's wife, and he's still blue about that, so why don't you get revenge for us? Steal his sister. Do you know her? I've heard she's pretty, if a bit odd.'
Not half!' Van exclaimed. She's the one I can't get rid of. Don't say things like that she might hear you and get ideas.'
What's wrong with her? Is it the oddness? Or is she not pretty after all?'
Oddness,' Van said firmly. Excessive, annoying oddness, and persistence. And I haven't really noticed whether she's pretty or not.' He tried to say this airily, as though it were not a complete lie. Twenty-four hours ago it would have been more or less true, but this afternoon, when he saw her standing amid the cabbages, of all places, looking as though she were experiencing a divine revelation, he had had something of a revelation himself; for the first time he had seen that she was beautiful. It was like finding an image in an apparently random pattern; like when a whorl in the grain of a board in the floor suddenly begins to look like a face to you, and ever afterward you see it as a face, and can never again see it as just the random shape it was before your mind started telling you there was something else in it. If he were honest, he would have to say that Celena was even more beautiful than Sylvie. He was not prepared to compare her with Hitomi.
Well, you'll just have to be firm in fending her off,' Sylvie said. And do hurry up and decide between the two special ones, because the longer you leave it the more hurt feelings there'll be.'
I don't need to decide between them. They're not competing for the same spot. Merle's more like my baby sister.' Van found his eyes were sneaking back to the mirror; he was truly not doing anything so vain as admiring himself, but he could surely admire the clothes without being vain about the person inside them. They compensated a lot for the person inside them, really; not only did the lines make him seem a little taller, but the cut made him look less skinny. Another reason for his embarrassment when he had woken up with Celena was that she could probably have counted his ribs.
I bet she'd be proud to see her big brother looking like this, then,' Sylvie said.
I should find something for her,' Van said, relieved to have someone to focus on besides himself. It's ages since she had anything new, and her dress is getting pretty threadbare. I want to find her something warm and pretty. Can you help me with that?'
I certainly can.'
Although Van's descriptions of Merle's physique were vague to the point of unhelpfulness (about yea high' and sort of smallish and gingery') Sylvie managed to locate some dresses for young girls that looked about the right size, and Van chose three: bottle-green corduroy, blue wool that he thought would match her eyes, and rich nut-brown velvet with brass buttons shaped like acorns. They were all a good deal prettier than anything she had had before, and he was rather inclined to wonder about Dryden's definition of utilitarian, and how much of the stock had been Sylvie's choice, but they were all well-made and looked hardwearing and comfortable, nothing flimsy.
She's never had three dresses at once before,' he told Sylvie, who was refolding the things he had passed over and putting them back in their crate. Now she's spoilt for choice.'
The poor thing!' Sylvie exclaimed. No self-respecting girl likes to have to wear the same dress day in, day out.'
Van, who had been fiddling with the acorn buttons on the brown dress (secretly, he would rather have liked something for himself with buttons like that), paused, thinking of white lace and blue ribbons, getting wilted and grubby. Who knew how much longer Celena would have to stay with him? And that dress was really not practical for the conditions. And she had been complaining about not having clean underthings. He was pretty much ignorant about what she would need in that respect, but surely Sylvie could help him. With a bit of luck he could leave the selection entirely up to her and avoid appalling embarrassment.
Do you have anything for a girl about my age, and a bit taller?' he asked.
It was sometimes hard to find Merle in the castle, since she had never had a room that was hers alone. Like all cute little cats and five-hundred-pound gorillas, she slept anywhere she wanted to, and any possessions she wanted to keep safe were usually in Van's room. However, she usually found him sooner or later, so if he just kept the parcel on hand he could give it to her when he saw her. Celena might be easier to locate. He went to the door of her room and knocked, a plain businesslike knock.
A voice from within said What?' rather petulantly. Van took this as his cue to open the door, and found Celena sitting cross-legged on the bed fiddling with the paper fortune-teller.
Catch,' he said briskly, and threw a large, soft parcel to her underarm before retreating and shutting the door again.
Celena did not really need to catch the parcel; it landed right in her lap with a loud crackle. It was wrapped in crisp brown paper and strong-looking twine. Written on the paper in hasty black pencil was a short message: Sorry about before. This stuff should make your stay more comfortable. If it doesn't fit let me know. V. Fanel.'
To Be Continued