close to treason. Ashia had turned purple and screamed that she owed it to her family.
Eshiala had asked her suitor for more time to think and get to know him. On the seventh day, her mother had discovered who he really was. That had settled the matter, of course. All imps were loyal to the Impire and the imperor.
She did not think she loved her husband. She suspected she was incapable of loving any man. She did not dislike him. She was grateful for Maya. She disliked Hub and the court, but she had consented to those. She detested pomp and public displays and ceremony. She had consented to those, also.
She did her duty, as a loyal subject of the Impire, and as a wife. And as a statue? And very soon she was going to find herself being hailed as impress.
3
At Krasnegar, the brief northern summer drew to its close. Wagons rolled on the causeway, bringing in the harvest. Old Foronod the factor was still official tallier. He sat in his office every day, throwing papers around and shouting at his clerks and generally making a confounded nuisance of himself. The real work of creating order out of chaos was done by the king himself in the great annual rush, when twelve months' supply of crops and meat and peat must be collected and transported and stored in two or three weeks' continuous toil. Krasnegar had many very hungry mouths to feed now, sixteen years after being struck by a wave of babies.
This year Rap noticed an astonishing improvement. Things rushed along at a great pace; the harvest almost seemed to gather itself, and the job was complete a week before he had expected it to be. That great crop of youngsters had suddenly grown up enough to become useful and they were all available to help, giving him about four times as many hands as he had ever had before. They were inexperienced and often clumsy, but they were willing and cheerful and so convinced they were adults now and having fun that everyone around them had fun, also.
So all went well and when the Big One arrived, the first blizzard of the winter, Krasnegar was well prepared. The shutters were closed, the boats safe, and the gates barred against bears. Now there was little to do except eat and drink, dance and party, study and teach, brawl and make love. And give birth.
"I won't drop this, you know," the king said firmly, but his hands were unsteady as the midwife passed him the precious bundle. He was always astonished how incredibly tiny these fragile miracles were when they first appeared. Tucking the babe in the crook of his left elbow, he adjusted the edge of the blanket around its face and headed for the door.
Of course this was the middle of the night-when else did babies arrive? Lamplight reflected like a halo from the flood of rich gold hair on the pillow. Inos was paler than usual and her lower lip was swollen, but she was smiling proudly, as indeed she should.
Two of each, now.
Rap knelt by the bed, leaned very carefully over his new son, and kissed her. "Clever girl," he murmured.
"I had some very expert help."
"It was a pleasure. Nice of you to put it that way, though."
"I didn't mean at the beginning. A frantic roughhouse, I expect. . ." She smiled knowingly. "I mean at the end."
"We all do what we can," he said softly.
"Thanks anyway, love."
"Don't mention it." The midwife would gossip, of course. Nothing he could do to stop gossip. He chuckled and changed the subject. "This is the finest Winterfest present a man ever received. "
"Then don't refer to it as `this' ... I mean, call it `him.' "
" `Him'? That's not much of a name! Let's see. Can't tell much from his coloring yet, but I think he's going to be more imp than jotunn. "
"I thought that, too. But he's got your nose, love. "
Rap peered crossly at the diminutive face, screwed up in a frown, but fast asleep. "They all have my nose at that age! Or perhaps he just squished it on the door frame."
"Don't be crude!" the queen said from her pillow. "What will you name your son, my
Eshiala had asked her suitor for more time to think and get to know him. On the seventh day, her mother had discovered who he really was. That had settled the matter, of course. All imps were loyal to the Impire and the imperor.
She did not think she loved her husband. She suspected she was incapable of loving any man. She did not dislike him. She was grateful for Maya. She disliked Hub and the court, but she had consented to those. She detested pomp and public displays and ceremony. She had consented to those, also.
She did her duty, as a loyal subject of the Impire, and as a wife. And as a statue? And very soon she was going to find herself being hailed as impress.
3
At Krasnegar, the brief northern summer drew to its close. Wagons rolled on the causeway, bringing in the harvest. Old Foronod the factor was still official tallier. He sat in his office every day, throwing papers around and shouting at his clerks and generally making a confounded nuisance of himself. The real work of creating order out of chaos was done by the king himself in the great annual rush, when twelve months' supply of crops and meat and peat must be collected and transported and stored in two or three weeks' continuous toil. Krasnegar had many very hungry mouths to feed now, sixteen years after being struck by a wave of babies.
This year Rap noticed an astonishing improvement. Things rushed along at a great pace; the harvest almost seemed to gather itself, and the job was complete a week before he had expected it to be. That great crop of youngsters had suddenly grown up enough to become useful and they were all available to help, giving him about four times as many hands as he had ever had before. They were inexperienced and often clumsy, but they were willing and cheerful and so convinced they were adults now and having fun that everyone around them had fun, also.
So all went well and when the Big One arrived, the first blizzard of the winter, Krasnegar was well prepared. The shutters were closed, the boats safe, and the gates barred against bears. Now there was little to do except eat and drink, dance and party, study and teach, brawl and make love. And give birth.
"I won't drop this, you know," the king said firmly, but his hands were unsteady as the midwife passed him the precious bundle. He was always astonished how incredibly tiny these fragile miracles were when they first appeared. Tucking the babe in the crook of his left elbow, he adjusted the edge of the blanket around its face and headed for the door.
Of course this was the middle of the night-when else did babies arrive? Lamplight reflected like a halo from the flood of rich gold hair on the pillow. Inos was paler than usual and her lower lip was swollen, but she was smiling proudly, as indeed she should.
Two of each, now.
Rap knelt by the bed, leaned very carefully over his new son, and kissed her. "Clever girl," he murmured.
"I had some very expert help."
"It was a pleasure. Nice of you to put it that way, though."
"I didn't mean at the beginning. A frantic roughhouse, I expect. . ." She smiled knowingly. "I mean at the end."
"We all do what we can," he said softly.
"Thanks anyway, love."
"Don't mention it." The midwife would gossip, of course. Nothing he could do to stop gossip. He chuckled and changed the subject. "This is the finest Winterfest present a man ever received. "
"Then don't refer to it as `this' ... I mean, call it `him.' "
" `Him'? That's not much of a name! Let's see. Can't tell much from his coloring yet, but I think he's going to be more imp than jotunn. "
"I thought that, too. But he's got your nose, love. "
Rap peered crossly at the diminutive face, screwed up in a frown, but fast asleep. "They all have my nose at that age! Or perhaps he just squished it on the door frame."
"Don't be crude!" the queen said from her pillow. "What will you name your son, my
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