Free Retribution by Ann Herendeen

Aranyi,” he said in his old ironic
manner, “teaches a man stoicism, if not cynicism.”
    I motioned for him to sit but Niall remained
standing, in a hurry to say what was on his mind and be out. He was
dressed for riding, in high boots and a belted tunic, sword and
dagger at his hip. He glanced toward the open door several times,
too polite to interrupt as I thanked him for his part in my rescue.
His fear of me was genuine after all, not just his usual teasing
familiarity. “Tell me the truth,” I said, finishing my rehearsed
speech. “What did I do? Why is everybody avoiding me?”
    Niall’s face grew solemn at my request. There
were dark circles under his eyes and his skin had a crepey texture.
“Lady Amalie, if you truly do not remember what happened, I’m
probably not the best one to tell you.”
    “Not you, too,” I said. “Please don’t tell me
I attacked you.”
    “No, honestly,” Niall said. “I was fortunate
in being merely an observer.” His natural insouciance broke through
his depression and he dared to laugh at what to him couldn’t help
but be a somewhat humorous situation. “I only meant that perhaps
Dominic should be the one—”
    “Dominic told me what I did to him,” I said.
“But I’d rather not—” I wouldn’t say it, that I was afraid to
summon Dominic up from the dungeon to answer my questions.
    Niall understood; he took a deep breath and
shut the door. If Dominic caught us we were dead, both of us, but
we could not speak freely of such things with the door open. He sat
down in the chair and, forcing himself not to rush, narrated the
whole disaster of my dramatic return home. His gift for imitation
made the scene come alive as he reenacted each episode: Dominic
carrying me into the house; Magali and Katrina, Isobel and many
other women rushing over, eager to resume their accustomed jobs of
caring for me and the children; and my horrifying greeting, a
barrage of Terran insults, filthy words and obscene phrases, as I
battled the confusion in my mind.
    People had laughed at first. “If you’d just
spoken Terran,” Niall said, “it wouldn’t have been so bad.” It was
when I switched to Eclipsian, recapitulating all the fears of
captivity, that I had found the exact right way to mortally insult
each of my three closest companions. I had fought Isobel when she
attempted to take Val from me, begging her not to hurt him. I had
promised my clothes to Katrina in return for her help. Worst of
all, I had offered my glass comb to Magali as a bribe for sparing
my life and my children’s.
    My words could be taken only one way, as
accusations of both disloyalty and greed. Alone, face to face, such
charges were grounds for a blood feud; I had said them in front of
the entire household. “I’m ruined,” I said. “I might as well have
died in captivity. If it wasn’t for the children I’d kill myself
now.”
    “How can you even think such a thing?” Niall
said. “Do you want to confirm everyone’s suspicions? How do you
think Dominic would take that?”
    I had no answer to this.
    “Lady Amalie,” Niall said, “it’s not as bad
as you imagine.” He tried to speak lightly but his voice had a
sharp edge. “Do you think yours are the first mad ravings ever
heard at Aranyi? What do you think went on when Dominic’s father
was alive? And with Dominic himself? Once you’re well again people
will say it was just the fever talking.”
    He saw the hurt in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he
said. “The fact is I only wanted to say good-by, to thank you for
all your kindness the past year and more, and to wish you a speedy
recovery.”
    “Good-by? What do you mean?” I took it in at
last, that his outfit was for travel, not simply a morning’s
recreation. “I hope nothing is wrong with your parents, or your
sisters?”
    “No, thanks for asking,” he said. “My family
is well, as far as I know.”
    “Well then, where are you off to so
suddenly?”
    “Anywhere, nowhere. Maybe