Shaman's Crossing - Page 81/239


I was leaning over to blow out my candle when there was a soft tap-tap, simultaneous with my bedchamber door opening. I expected perhaps a servant, but certainly not a maid in her night robe and mobcap peeking in at me. “Are you awake?” she asked me eagerly.

“So it would appear!” I replied uncomfortably.

A smile spread over her face. “Oh, good! They kept you so long, I thought you would never get to your bed.” With that she bounced into my bedchamber, shut the door behind her, and sat down on the foot of my bed. She curled her legs up under her and then demanded, “Did you bring me anything?”

“Should I have?” I was completely taken aback by her peculiar behavior and had no idea what to expect next from her. I had heard tales of how forward maidservants were in a big city, but I had never expected to encounter such brazen behavior in my uncle’s house. She looked young to be a maidservant, but in her night robe and with her hair bundled up in a cap, it was difficult to guess her age. I wasn’t accustomed to seeing women in such garb.

She gave a small sigh of disappointment and shook her head at me. “Probably not. Aunt Selethe sends us little presents from time to time, so I hoped perhaps you had brought one with you. But if you haven’t, I shan’t be offended.”

“Oh. Are you Epiny Burvelle, my cousin?” Suddenly this midnight encounter had become even stranger.

She looked at me for a moment in shock. “Well, who else did you think I might be?”

“I’m sure I had no idea!”

She stared at me a moment longer, perplexed, and then her mouth formed a scandalized O. She leaned closer to me and spoke in a whisper, as if she feared to be overheard. “You thought I was a wanton maid, come to warm your bed, and demanding your largesse in advance. Oh, Nevare, how depraved young men from the east must be to expect such things.”

“I did not!” I denied hotly.

She sat back. “Oh, don’t lie. You did so. But forget that. Now that you know that I’m your Cousin Epiny, answer my first question. Did you bring me a present?” She was eager and tactless as a child.

“No. Well, not exactly. My mother sent presents for you and your mother and sister. But I don’t have them. My father does.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “Then I suppose I shall have to wait until morning before I get it. So, tell me. Did you have a good journey coming here?”

“It was good, but wearying.” I tried not to say the words too pointedly. I was very tired and this bizarre reintroduction to my cousin was straining my courtesy. She didn’t notice.

“Did you get to ride on a jankship?”

“Yes. Yes, we did.”

“Oh!” She all but collapsed with jealousy. “I never have. My father says they are frivolous and dangerous and a hazard to sane navigation on the river. Last week one collided with a coal barge. Six people were lost and all the coal was spilled in the river. He says they should be outlawed, and their reckless captains clapped in irons.”

“Really.” I made my voice flat with disinterest. I felt that her comment criticized my father and me for arriving by jankship. “I am really very tired, Cousin Epiny.”

“Are you? Then I suppose I should let you go to sleep. You’re a bit disappointing, Cousin Nevare. I thought a boy cousin would have far more endurance than you seem to. And I thought someone from the east would have interesting things to tell.” She clambered off my bed.

“Perhaps I do, when I’m not so tired,” I said sharply.

“I doubt it,” she said sincerely. “You look very ordinary. And you sound as dull as my brother Hotorn. He is very concerned with his dignity, and I think that prevents him from having an interesting life. If I were a boy, and permitted to have an interesting life, I would have no dignity at all.”

“You don’t seem to be overly burdened with it as a girl,” I pointed out to her.

“Well, yes, I’ve discarded it as being useless to me as a girl also. But that doesn’t mean I can have an interesting life. Although I do aspire to one. I do. Good night, Nevare.” She leaned closer as if she would kiss me on the cheek, but stopped short, staring at the side of my head. “Whatever did you do to your ear?”

“A Plains warrior cut it with his swanneck. A swanneck is a long, curving blade.” I was glad to say it. Her remark that I was ordinary had stung me sharply.

“I know what a swanneck is, cousin.” She sounded very patronizing as she paused with her hand on the doorknob. “And you are, my cousin dear, and I will love you no matter how boring you are. So you needn’t make up wild tales about savage Plainsmen. You probably think you can easily deceive a city girl like me, but I know such stories are rubbish. I have read a great deal about the Plainsmen, and I know they are a natural and gentle folk who live in complete harmony with nature. Unlike us.” She gave yet another sigh. “Don’t tell lies to make yourself seem important, Nevare. That is such a wearying trait in a man. I’ll see you in the morning.”