Part 50 (1/2)

An hour later, wearing pale blue with dark gray pip- ing, bathed, shaved and scented, he was shown into Marianna's bedchamber on the top floor. It had a big window that opened onto the roof and the midday sun shone in brightly. The Lady of the Holding was propped up in the grand, carved bed, wearing a pale green night- robe, with a matching ribbon securing the pulled-back hair. There was an open account book on the counter- pane beside her. She did not look up and he had a moment to study her. The first thing that registered was that she was plump, a mild shock in one who has always been thin. The second was the enormous bulge beneath the covers. She glanced in his direction and her face lit up. She is truly beautiful, Jarrod thought as he smiled at her.

275.

”Jarrod! They didn't tell me that you'd arrived. When did you get here?”

”Just over an hour ago,” he said, advancing to the bedside. ”Long enough to have a bath and a meal and don this finery.” He extended his arms and rotated to display the clothes. ”What do you think?”

”You look very handsome and everything seems to fit properly,” she said. ”I was afraid that the sleeves and the trousers would be too short.”

”No, they're fine, though I shall have to watch what I eat. My new man gives me to understand that robes are unwelcome here.”

”Well, as my husband, you are required to show an amount of state. The tenants expect it. It's important for our standing in the region and people are very sen- sitive to that. In a great many cases, their self-esteem is attached to us. Besides, most people tend to be afraid of Magicians and especially of Mages.”

”It's a shame, then, that I can't do anything about my height,” he said with more asperity than he had intended.

”Now don't be difficult, Jarrod dear,” she said with unwonted calmness. ”You have to realize that, at Gwyndryth, you have to play the part of my husband- What you do at Stronta, or at Celador for that matter, is entirely your affair, but here we have customs and traditions that go back for centuries. What matters here is the peace and productivity of the demesne and of my father's tenants. There are certain obligations that come with your position. You will have to pre- side at Hall tonight for instance, and we shall have to have a feast for the va.s.sals and tenants in your honor.”

She looked up at him and smiled. ”I can't promise that we won't have to give a feast to celebrate,” she

276 patted her stomach with both hands, ”the arrival of this one.”

Jarrod sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out a tentative hand.

”Go ahead,” she said. ”It won't bite.”

He placed his hand gently on the swelling covers. All he could feet was the curving counterpane with its welts of embroidery.

”How are you doing?” he asked.

”Oh, I feel bloated and uncomfortable,” she said as if ticking off her blessings. ”My back hurts, I feel as if I need to go to the garderobe every ten minutes and my feet and ankles are swollen.” She favored him with a mincing smile more usually seen on the faces of Court ladies making light conversation.

”Most of all, and most oddly of all, I have the dis- tinct feeling that this is not my body. It does what it wants and I have no control of it. It is as if I were outside myself observing this other person. At other times it is as if I were trapped in someone else's body.”

”Is there anything that I can do?” he asked.

She laughed. ”Not unless you have a spell to speed delivery and make it painless.” Her eyes widened sud- denly and she caught her breath.

She grabbed Jarrod's hand and pulled it back to her belly. He felt the baby's kick clear through the covers.

He looked at Marianna, his own eyes round.

'*Oh G.o.ds,” he said. ”It's alive.”

”It's a very active little person,” she replied in a tone of amused resignation.

”When ... ?” he began.

”Soon,” Marianna said. ”Pray to the G.o.ds that it be soon.”

”And the Wisewoman's good, is she?”

”b.l.o.o.d.y woman treats me like a fragile child,” Mar- ianna said with a flash of her old belligerence. ”She's 277.

even got Merry convinced. Bland food, no wine, no mandragora-you'd think I'd never had a baby be- fore.”