Sir Kralaford found Tahlessa in the private gardens, under the shade of a pagoda on one of the lower terraces. The fine cot from Chief-engineer Garenshik stood by the ornately carved bench where she sat, his son sleeping soundly inside. He looked down at Kralmir, and a smile touched his lips.
"He is looking well," he said as he sat down beside his wife.
"He will be strong," replied Tahlessa. "Like his father."
Sir Kralaford took her hand.
"And how are you, my love? I have missed you these last days."
Tahlessa smiled at him. She still looked pale, and her eyes lacked their usual spark.
"I am sure you have been so intent on the contests that you have not missed my presence for a second."
He filled a stone cup of pressed fruit juice and water from a jug sitting beside the bench, and handed it to his wife. He then poured one for himself.
"I have thought about you every hour of each day since I saw you last."
Tahlessa took a drink from the cup.
"Liar," she said sweetly.
Sir Kralaford gave a light shrug.
"Well, most hours," he conceded. "The contests are cause for distraction."
"This year more so than others," said Tahlessa. "So, tell me what I have missed."
Sir Kralaford smiled once more. He was always happy to talk to his wife about such matters.
"The early bouts are done. The lower echelon have chosen their Chapters and made their challenges. All were successful, and there were few surprises."
"But I feel the news is not good."
"More sought to join Vikas than I had hoped."
"That is worrying. Is it because they share Commander Galder's desire for war?"
"I am afraid that might be so. They are young and naive and crave the glory that war will bring."
"You were the same at their age I remember; eager to prove yourself and mark your place in the Order."
"I have been to war since then and have seen the truth of it, and know that constant conflict between the Orders brings us nothing."
"It is a pity so few others see the same truth."
"The news is not all bad. Sir Xanrath has made his challenge for Third echelon. He fights tomorrow."
"That is welcome. Who has he challenged?"
"Sir Draimar."
"And his chances of success?"
"He has inherited his father's skill, and his confidence, but he is still young. If he keeps his head he may do well."
"Morath would be proud of his son."
"Yes, and thankfully, despite their disagreements in everything else, Xanrath seems to share his father's favour of peace. My work would be easier if he were Commander of the Chapter of Vikas rather than Sir Galder, but it will be many years yet before he is ready to pose any challenge to him."
Tahlessa nodded and placed her still full cup on the bench beside her. She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked out over the gardens.
"You evaded my question earlier," said Sir Kralaford. "Cleverly, as always."
"Which question?"
"I asked you how you were, and you distracted me with questions of the tourney."
"It was not an intended distraction. Not really."
"So will you tell me how you are? I can see you are not fully recovered."
His wife sighed.
"I can feel my strength returning. I did not expect to feel such weakness. Grifford and Tahlia did not take so much out of me."
"I have spoken to Doctor Fos. She does not seem concerned."
"No, she assures me I will soon recover, but..."
Tahlessa turned away from him, tears suddenly glistening on her lashes where her eyes were closed tight.
"What is it?" asked Sir Kralaford, suddenly concerned.
"She tells me that I may not bear any more children."
She said it quickly, as though wanting the words to be away from her lips. Sir Kralaford wrapped his arms about her in a strong embrace and held her to him. He kissed her creased forehead.
"You have given me two sons and a daughter. I could not ask for more. Do not fret about this."
Tahlessa gave a deep sigh and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I am sorry," she said. "You did not come to see me crying. I do not seem able to stop of late."
"Cry if you feel you must, but this is not a time for tears. This should be a time of happiness."
"Happiness! With war on the horizon again. If it comes, there will be plenty more tears shed before the summers return."
"War is not yet a certainty. Besides, I was referring to our new son. Surely this is not a time to be crying."
"I do not know why I cry. It is as though my mind is mired in a swamp and cannot raise itself up to the sunlight."
"Does he not give you joy?"
Tahlessa looked down at her sleeping baby, but no smile touched her lips.
"He does, of course, but I worry I will lose him like I have lost his brother."
"Grifford! Grifford is not lost."
"I feel as though he is lost to me! He has visited me every day since Kralmir came, but he barely speaks. He looks grim faced and sombre as always, and I have no way of knowing what troubles his heart save what I can find in speculation." She looked down at the peaceful face of Kralmir, still deep in sleep. "I sometimes think that children are a curse."
Sir Kralaford stood quickly and then knelt down in front of Tahlessa, gripping her arms in his hands. He stared into her eyes, willing her to look up at him.
"How can you say such a thing?"
"My children bring me so much joy, but also pain in equal measure. I worry for them now, but I also worry for their future and their safety. I do not want them growing up in war as I did."
"You must stop all this concern for our sons. They will both grow to be good men and be the greatest of knights. They will not fall in battle."
Tahlessa shook her head.
"You do not know that, and it is not you who has to stay behind, waiting to hear of the fate of your loved ones. I thought it bad when there was only you for my heart to strain for news of, but if my sons were to go with you I do not think I could survive it."
She did raise her eyes to meet his then, though the unfamiliar sorrow in them made it hard for him to hold her gaze.
"I do not like to see you talk this way. I need your strength beside me again if I am to prevent this war. With Lord Taine as Commander of the Order of the Heights, and the Clans under his control, we have a chance at keeping the peace that he and Lord Morath made."
His wife turned her sad eyes on him again.
"If you are to prevent it?"
"It has to be stopped."
The look in Tahlessa's eyes changed, the sadness deepening to anxiety.
"You have still not decided have you?" she said.
"No."
"You said you would support Sir Zembulla."
"Yes, but I still think he may not be the Order's best chance for peace, and that it is I who am better placed to keep it."
Tahlessa placed a hand on his arm.
"This is so like you. You have little faith in others, take everything on yourself and seek to do the impossible."
"And have I not always succeeded?"
She looked away from him, down over the gardens, to the blue sky above the battle-grounds.
"Almost," she replied. "You promised me that if I married you, I would be the wife of the Grand-commander of Klinberg."
"And that is what I intend to be. Unsaethel will not stand, he has told me as much himself, and the new Commander of Katchewan, whoever he shall be, cannot."
"You will still face the others. If you stand, then you break your agreement with Bevrik. I know he is your friend, but that will not restrain his sword in the ring. Zembulla is a beast, despite his good humour, and Sir Galder is the worst of them all."
"They can still all be beaten."
Tahlessa remained silent, and it was impossible for Sir Kralaford to read anything through her look of sorrow.
"I am not afraid to face them!" he said. "I will not have people think me a coward."
His wife lifted her hand from his arm and laid it on his cheek.
"You have your father's pride," she said. "And look where that led him."
"I am not my father."
"No, you are not. You have more sense than him, but at the moment your own esteem is overwhelming it. I know you are not afraid to face them, but I am afraid for you." Sir Kralaford sat down by his wife once more and took her hand. "I am sorry if you think me weak..."
"I do not think you weak," he said "It is a brave thing to admit to fear. We have always been honest with each other and I am glad you have told me of your heart's anguish. I understand the fear you have for my safety and that of our children, and it makes me more certain that this war must be prevented."
"But is its prevention worth your own life!" said Tahlessa, her voice breaking. "One attempt has already been made on it. Who says there will not be another!"
"The nadidge failed. I lived!"
Sir Kralaford released his wife's hand and pointed out across the garden's battlements, into the blue void of the sky.
"There is someone out there, out of my reach, who wants this war between our Orders to continue. That fact only serves to make my resolve to prevent it stronger."
"But it is not solely your responsibility, Kralaford. You risk too much..."
He stood quickly and turned his back on her. He took two steps away to the terrace's edge.
"This is not like you," he said over his shoulder. "I want to see once more the spirit of the woman that I married! I need your support, not your worries!"
"And I wish I could give it to you, but I do not believe that the course you are considering is the best one." He turned to face her, and saw something of the old spark of conviction back in her eyes. "You have enemies enough, husband. Do you really wish to make more?"
"No."
"You can only achieve your goals if the Order is united."
"I know."
"So what is your choice?"
"I have still not made one. I will wait for the tourney recess. Maybe the results of the riding-contests will clarify my decision."
"And if their portents are so, you will give your support to Sir Zembulla?"
"If it seems the surest option."
Tahlessa smiled then, and it brought warmth to her face. Sir Kralaford returned to sit beside her on the bench, and his wife took his hand.
"I have faith in you and always will," she said. "But you are only one man. You cannot solve all the world's problems alone."
"I can try," said Sir Kralaford, but the reply came with a smile of acceptance.
The bell on top of the chain-carriage station started to chime its high musical notes. The hour of Fortak had begun.
"You have missed the last carriage," said Tahlessa, concerned.
"I will take the first one down after the hour is done."
"Will you not miss the start of the contests?"
He took his wife's hand.
"They can begin without me. Now I would like to spend this short hour of peace with my wife. I have neglected her for too long."
Tahlessa smiled again.
The perfume of the flowers covering the pagoda filled the air around them.
The scent of the gardens always brought memories of peaceful times, but Sir Kralaford still felt the presence of the broken tower looming behind him, twisted and vine wrapped, reminding him that war was never far away.