Heart on the Line: 2. Bedroom Hymns

[clare_dragonfly]

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We'll build our altar here
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The rest of the day was a whirlwind of things Artona had never expected. They were taken out of the spaceport in two-person covered carriages pulled by small four-legged animals, like horses or goats but with silky, longish fur. She put that away in her mind to ask Mark about, since Captain Ran had told her that there were no wool-bearing animals here, and that fur looked plenty warm. The carriages took them to a building that she thought at first was a government building, but which turned out to be Mark’s house. His cousin Jared brought her bag inside, and then he and Mark gave her a whirlwind tour of the house’s four stories. Mark even showed her a closet full of clothing that was already provided for her, and she was happy enough to change into a warmer and more Caila-fashionable suit of clothes, a shirt and slacks with belled sleeves and cuffs and a long, warm vest. She thought she would be able to find her way around the building again, but she couldn’t keep track of the roles of the various people who also seemed to live there.

After that they took her to Caila Hall, which was, indeed, a government building, much smaller and less ornate than Mark’s home. It did impress her, however, with its dedication to duty. Mark showed her the room where he and the other seven lords met to discuss national policy and the banks of computers where votes were counted on matters of import to either the Central region or the entire nation.

They got into another covered carriage for a tour of the city, what they had not yet seen on the short drive from the spaceport to Mark’s house. There were few other buildings in the city as grand as that one, but the people they passed, waving flowers and grain stalks in the streets and cheering, were happy enough. Artona waved and smiled back at them as best she could, but her stomach churned. So many people. They fell in behind the carriage, too, following them down the streets. What did they expect of her? Who was she to them?

She was also starving. When she mentioned that to Mark, he brought out a peeled orange from beneath the seat. She took it gingerly, remembering that citrus was a delicacy on Caila, but couldn’t resist eating the whole thing.

Finally, they arrived back at the government building, and Mark helped her out of the carriage. All of the city’s people seemed to have followed them there, but they were quiet now, watching them expectantly. “What are they waiting for?” she whispered to Mark, trying discreetly to wipe sticky orange juice from the side of her mouth with her long sleeve.

“It’s time for the marriage ceremony,” he whispered back.

Her heart did a triple beat as she stared up into his eyes. She knew they planned to get married very quickly, but she’d thought she would have a bit of time to settle in. Then again, perhaps they did not think it was appropriate for her to live with Mark without being married first—and she certainly had nowhere else to live. And if they were public figures, it made sense to marry in front of all the people, though she’d formerly expected a small, private ceremony. But still… “What about your family?” she whispered.

“Jared and Derek are all I have left,” he whispered back, and she instantly felt a pang of guilt. She knew his parents were gone, and if they were the same generation as Jared and Derek’s parents, they must be gone too. Were lives so short and harsh on Caila? She put her hand gently to Mark’s cheek, and he smiled at her, then turned to kiss her palm.

Then he took her hand in his and led her up the steps that fronted the building. When they had reached the doors, they turned to face the crowd. He held up their joined hands. “People of Central Province!” he called, his voice deep and carrying. “I present to you Artona, Lady Mayor of Central Province, Lady of Caila!”

The crowd cheered so loudly and enthusiastically that Artona’s ears rang, and she was not sure the cheering had stopped until Mark spoke again. Now she could see Mark’s two cousins and the seven other lords at the front of the crowd, just at the bottom of the steps. “I offer you my heart,” he was saying. “I offer you my voice. I offer you my crown. Do you accept?”

The crowd was holding its breath. Mark was smiling at her. She was supposed to respond, wasn’t she? “I accept,” she said. She didn’t think she had spoken loudly enough for anyone to hear her, but the crowd cheered again anyway.

Jared mounted the steps, three ribbons in his hands—one red, one black, and one white. He tied the red one around Mark and Artona’s joined hands. “My heart,” Mark intoned. Jared tied the black one. “My voice,” Mark cried. Jared tied the white one. “My crown,” Mark shouted, and the crowd shouted with him.

Artona’s heart fluttered and she looked into Mark’s eyes as he pulled her close and kissed her. She had never seen a binding ceremony quite like this one; it was so simple, so public, and certainly so powerful. She did not think standing before a judge and signing a paper, as she would have done on Halos, would ever have made her feel as tied to another person as she did now to Mark—and that wasn’t just literal.

They pulled apart and faced the crowd again. Jared knelt briefly in front of them, then Derek. Then the seven lords came up the steps one at a time to kneel, press their foreheads to Mark and Artona’s bound hands, and recite a short speech: “I pledge you my loyalty and my love, Lord and Lady of Caila. I will support you in all things. May you rule long and wisely, and may I have the courage to speak if your wisdom falters.” They were obviously pledging some sort of fealty to the two of them—or was it to her? They must have already pledged themselves to Mark, or he would not be considered their leader. She wondered if the words were merely ceremony, or if the lords truly meant them.

Once all seven lords had made their pledge, Mark led Artona down the steps, to stand on the last one. Now the crowd surged forward, reaching out to touch them. Artona stiffened, not having expected this, but each touch was brief and light. Many of the touches were to her arm or her hair, but the goal seemed to be to touch their bound hand. This must be, she realized, the version of the loyalty ceremony for those who were not lords. The common people with only one vote each.

At long last the crowd fell away before them, and they walked through the street toward Mark’s house. Artona thought they were having private time at last, but the crowd followed them, led as always by Mark’s cousins and the seven lords. Mark and Artona stopped again at the front door of his house to wave to the crowd, which cheered again. Then they were followed inside by a much smaller crowd, but one that had nearly doubled from the one that had met Artona at the spaceport—each man except Derek was now accompanied by a woman. The wives at last, Artona surmised, and felt a dizzy gratitude at finally seeing other important women.

One of the women who worked in Mark’s home escorted them to the dining room (offering Artona a friendly, kind smile, which Artona returned with gratitude) and placed Mark and Artona at the head of the table. The others sat around them, arguing about placement in a friendly way, until a gray-haired woman sat on Artona’s left, her gray-bearded Lord Mayor of Mountain Province to her left, and the red-bearded Lord Mayor of North Province sat on Mark’s right, with his very dark-skinned wife on his right. Jared and Derek took the other end of the table. At last, proper food was served by a young man and woman who seemed to also work in the house. Artona was ready to eat, starving, but the lady of Mountain Province stood, her glass in her hand. The others all looked at her expectantly.

“To our new Lady, Artona,” the woman said in a deep, carrying voice. She hoisted her glass high—it looked like the wine glasses Artona was familiar with, but the liquid inside was a pale gold. “May she live long and rule well! Slencha!”

“Slencha!” echoed all the others at the table—at least, that was what it sounded like to Artona. It wasn’t a toast she was familiar with, but from the way they all drank, it was obviously a toast.

“Thank you,” Artona said softly as the woman sat. At last they all began to eat, so she was occupied with that for several minutes—at least the food was familiar, vegetables, meat, and grain (though she suspected the meat came from those silky-haired pack beasts and no animal she’d eaten before). Finally, though, she managed to say, “I’m sorry, if we were introduced, I’ve missed it in this busy day. What was your name?”

The gray-haired woman smiled, making her eyes nearly disappear in a wreath of wrinkles. “I’m very sorry, of course not. These men, it never occurs to them to let us women greet you first.” She held her hand out. “Mary. Lady Mayor of Mountain Province, but I suppose you guessed that.”

Artona took her hand. “Yes, I did, but thank you anyway. Are you considered Lady Mayor? Is that an elected position? I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with Caila politics.”

Mary shook her head. “I hope they’ll give you time to figure things out. To be brief, no, it’s not an elected position—I received it when I married Jacob, here.” She nudged her husband, who seemed to ignore her, but Mary didn’t appear discomfited by that. “I did have to be accepted by the people of Mountain Province, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a situation in which a Lord Mayor’s chosen wife—or a Lord of Caila’s—was not accepted.”

“So are Lord Mayor and Lord of Caila the only elected positions?” Artona slurped up some boiled grain, trying to think of the best way to ask her question. “That is, no Lady Mayor can be elected?”

“Oh, it can happen, and has a few times throughout our history. If the previous Lord or Lady thought their daughter or another chosen one was best suited to lead. But here on Caila we believe that men are better off doing the public, political things, and women are happier quiet and behind the scenes. Women who disagree tend to move off-planet.”

Artona nodded, absorbing the information. It didn’t seem quite fair to her that it would be so hard for a woman to ascend to a position of political power, but if they were allowed to leave, maybe it was best that way. She would certainly be happy to leave all the politics to Mark. The very idea tired her. Perhaps she was better off living on Caila than Halos for more than one reason.

She glanced at her new husband—husband! The very thought made her stomach flutter. He was engaged in a serious conversation with Jacob and the red-bearded Lord Mayor of North, but the topic seemed to be Jacob’s prospects for grandchildren rather than any worrying political situation. She listened to that conversation for a few minutes, then turned to speak more with Mary, who introduced her to Susan, the Lady of North Province, and continued to explain Caila politics and the role she was expected to take.

The food was good, the company interesting, and the wine-like drink they had been served tasty and even somewhat invigorating, but Artona still felt herself tiring as the evening wore on. It was a banquet, she supposed, considering the great number of dishes (there were ices between every course, and then a soup, a fish, a different boiled grain, and another fish) and the large number of guests. But perhaps they always entertained this many guests—the table was certainly big enough. She hoped not. She wanted some time to spend alone with her husband.

When the servants came away to clear the dishes from the last ice, she leaned back in her chair, realizing that she was too tired to follow the conversation and had thus completely forgotten the names of all of Lady Mary’s four grown children. She used the clatter of dishes as a cover to turn and murmur to her husband. “Will we be alone soon?”

He gave her such a tender look that her heart melted. “Of course, my darling, if you wish it.”

She nodded, smiled, and rested her head on his shoulder. “Please.”

He reached out and caught the sleeve of the girl clearing away the dishes. “No coffee tonight, Anne. My wife wishes to retire early.”

Anne grinned. “Of course, my lord. We’ll get everything cleared away, then.”

Mark stood as the servant moved away and clapped his hands for attention. “Thank you so much for coming to attend my wedding, Lady Artona’s investiture, and this fine meal.” There was a cheer, and he grinned, though Artona wondered who exactly was being cheered—Mark hadn’t cooked the dinner. “We’ll certainly be making some time to visit each of your provinces in the coming months, but for now, feel free to return home and see to your own affairs, or stay in Central for now if you’d prefer.” He took Artona’s elbow and tugged it lightly, and she stood. “Now I bid you all good night.”

“Good night,” she echoed, and the lords and ladies all bid them the same. Lady Susan winked at Artona. She had no idea how the woman had managed to put so much suggestiveness into one wink, but it made her blush. And finally Mark guided her upstairs, to the room that they would share.

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'Cause this is his body, this is his love
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Once they were alone, he swept her into his arms and kissed her lingeringly. She laughed once her mouth was free to do so. “Oh, I never thought we would have time to do that.” She lifted her hand to his face, enjoying the feeling of his skin against hers, his arms around her waist. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were the ruler of the entire planet and we’d spend all day having ceremonies.”

He laid a smacking kiss on the skin of her neck. “I’m not a ruler. I’m a leader. Technically, I am elected.”

“Close enough,” she laughed. “When you put together your vote with the rest of the lords and ladies, does it even matter what the rest of the people think?”

“It does,” he said, his voice low and serious though he was murmuring it directly into her ear. “The votes are carefully calibrated so that the lords and ladies never have more than thirty percent. Our families and the others with power have another twenty percent, and the people have fifty percent. If they were truly opposed to a leader, it would be easy to throw him or her out—and of course, anyone can argue.”

She sighed. “I appreciate learning about the political situation in Caila, since it’s different from anything else I’ve ever seen, but…”

He pulled away from her slightly to look into her eyes. “You don’t think it’s fair?”

She shook her head. “As long as people can come and go as they please, and the people can make their voices heard, it seems fair enough to me.” She grinned. “It’s just I’ve been dealing with the politics all day. Right now I just want you.”

“And you shall have me!” He kissed her again, hard and possessive, and pulled her with him as he walked backward toward the bed. They fell atop it together, her on top of him first, until he rolled her over and pinned her between his knees. She clutched at his shoulders and kissed him again and again until she finally had to fall back, gasping for air.

“I almost feared we would never have this,” she said softly, reaching up to stroke his dark hair. “For so long you were only a holovid.”

“And then for three months you were nothing at all,” he said, nodding in agreement.

“That time doesn’t seem real. So little happened… but I knew I was traveling to you. I guess it was different for you, since you were going about your daily life, but without our usual chats.”

“Exactly. Oh, I missed you so much, my Artona.” He kissed her again. “I am so glad we are together at last.”

“Yes,” she murmured, stroking his neck. “Yes.”

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Because I've found myself an old solution
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Afterward, they could not sleep, so he took her up to the roof, a part of the building she had not seen. There was only a small area that was flat enough to lie on, so lie down they did, watching the stars wheel by above them with infinitesimal slowness. Artona was fascinated. “These are the same stars—or many of the same stars—that I see from Halos. That is, that I saw. Are they not? Yet they look so different.”

He nodded. She could feel his hair moving against hers. They were lying very close, side by side, and it was so dark they could not see each other, but they could feel the warmth of their bodies. It was cold up here, but Artona did not mind. “The angle is so different that all but the farthest stars seem to be in a different position,” Mark said. “But it is our position that is different.”

“And there are so many more stars,” she said softly. They spilled across the sky like sugar scattered on the ground, so thick it seemed that the night should be just as bright as the day. “I mean, so many more visible, because there’s so little light here. Why is that?”

“My ancestors, the people who first settled this planet, made a number of choices to keep Caila different from most of the rest of galactic society,” he said. “The political system is one, of course. The technology level is another. They chose to keep things simpler. And they also couldn’t afford the infrastructure necessary for things like huge cities, fiber optics, great manufacturing plants, that sort of thing.”

“Captain Ran said that you aren’t able to manufacture medicines here,” she said.

“That’s right. Luckily, we discovered the precious metals under the skin of the planet. Everyone has equal access to medicines, of course—they are paid for with national income, and carefully monitored so that there is always enough for everyone.” He rolled onto his side and nuzzled her hair. “Why are we talking about politics again?”

She laughed. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just fascinating to me. Where I grew up, everything was so different, and I was no more involved in it than any other citizen. Now, I suppose I have more power.”

“You don’t have to do anything with it,” he said. “You can just vote the same way I do.”

“I’m sure I will, at first.” She reached out to take his hand and squeezed it. “But I want to learn what to do, what the people expect. I don’t want to just double your votes.”

“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “I knew you were wise. The right choice for Lady of Caila.”

She shook her head, smiling, still astonished at the way she’d ended up with such great political power. “I do wish you would have told me beforehand. I don’t think it would have changed my mind, but at least I would have had time to be prepared.” Or would it have changed her mind? She wasn’t sure. It would have been very frightening, surely. She felt now that it was the right thing, that she was in the right place, not just with the right man, but political power had never been something she had sought.

“Noted,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Next time a lord mayor seeks a bride from off-planet, I will advise him to let her know what he’s getting into.”

She turned her head to the side to face him. His eyes caught just enough of the light from the stars to glitter. Caila had no moon. “Is that what you were doing? Seeking a bride?”

“Well, yes. I had dated a few women from Central Province, and a few relatives of my fellow lords, but couldn’t find anyone I liked enough to settle down with.” He shrugged with the shoulder he was not lying on. “And we’re a small colony without any immigration to speak of. It’s good to get some new genes on the planet from time to time.”

“I never thought…” She stopped and bit her lip, turning her gaze back to the stars, trying to decide how to word her thought. “Well, I wasn’t looking for anything in particular when we met. I didn’t know we would have any kind of romance, let alone that I would leave Halos to marry you. I didn’t know you’d gone looking for me specifically.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked.

“A little. It seems less like serendipity, I suppose.”

He kissed her head through her hair. “But it is, my love. I would not have been out on the wide net talking to people had I not decided to seek a bride. I couldn’t have justified the time or the ansible use to myself, even though it’s free for me, without a specific purpose.”

“So if you’d found someone here, I might never have known you existed.”

“That’s probably true.”

“All right. I have another question.”

He grinned. “Please, go right ahead and ask.”

“Why are your names so odd?”

That made him laugh. “I could ask you the same question. There has never been anyone named Artona on Caila.”

“It’s a common enough name in the rest of the galaxy. The orphanage didn’t give out uncommon names. I would never have been named Mary or… Susan.”

“I believe those who originally settled Caila selected a fairly small pool of names to use, from names that were in use hundreds of years ago on Earth. There are records in Caila Hall. You should look them up.”

“You know, I think I’d like that.”

“My scholarly wife.” He bent to kiss her firmly on the lips, and then his hand moved across her skin, caressing her and bringing her close.

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