Previous Blackbird file.

Blackbird: [gently restrains his hands, thinking even as she does so how strong and skilled they are]

Brandon, it is not finished. Nothing has changed, really. Bel is still out there. I still have a promise to keep. Give me something, Brandon. If I cannot take your blood, I need something else.

I still need your sacrifice. The only thing that has changed is that I do not enjoy it anymore, and cannot see ripping it from you violently. The world is *not* a black and white place. But I still believe in right and wrong. All your shadow patronage is not nearly enough to right the wrong that you did. Money and power can only do so much. I have heard of one who might give Belerian his hands back and even *that* does not cover everything. Are you understanding me? Do something to make me proud, something to keep me from slowly being torn to pieces by my conflicting loyalties.

Brandon:
Power and money are what I have, so I have put them to work. The only other "powers" that I have are a nose for fear and an attractiveness that many women find hard to resist.

The hermit who healed Sir von Rohan refuses to come to Harrogate, at least not at my request. You may be able to do better.

Things have changed between us -- we just proved it to ourselves.

There are many things that I can give you. Starting with Marquessa d' Harrogate and ending I know not where. But my soul tells me that it must be personal, and it must be valuable to you as well as to me. And you head the list of things valuable to me. Things to make you proud? The great worldly things I can do must await the end of my father's time at Chateau Harrogate. There are things that I can do now.

But the past *is* finished, it is finished as soon as we take the next breath. The things I do now will never, no matter what they are, undo the things I have done in the past. There is now, and the things we do now, that we can control and change. I became what I loathed in the past. One moment I decided to change the things I did. I now do other things.

It is many faceted. You asked me to make you proud. You need retribution that others would understand was taken as vengeance for unspeakable cruelty. You need to be able to live with it as something done to a man who loves you so much that he has proven himself willing to let you kill him for it.

I offer you my bed. No, hear me out. To the exclusion of others. You can tell others, truthfully, that after what you have done to me I no longer keep a warmed bed. Attractive and a flirt perhaps, or my father will have me checked again for madness or sickness, but clearly one who sleeps alone. Bel would think it a vengeance suitable, I suspect. Done to the youngster that maimed him, it would have been quid pro quo.

While this might not sound like too terrible a hardship on me, the things that would pain me most all involve hurt to you. Hesketh and his horse do not know how close they came to doom today.

It would be pleasing to me to know that my fidelity meant something to you.

Narrator:

As she listens to him, a small, sad smile creeps across her face.

Blackbird:

Your fidelity does mean a great deal to me. I claim it. But I will not promise you mine in return. You will have to learn to live with that, or earn better.

But I want still more.

Poor Brandon. You are more trapped by your past than I. You think you offer me the sacrifice I need, but you only offer me more difficult choices. How do you think Bel would feel if he learned that you had bought me off for the price of your bed? I have doubts about whose vengeance Bel would consider that to be. He lost his hands trying to keep me from you. I believe he still has feelings for me. And how would it be if he learned that in the end, I went to you anyway? I think it would hurt him more deeply than anything I can imagine. I was not asking for a sacrifice for myself, I was asking for a sacrifice for Belerian.

I accept your offer in spite of my feelings for Bel. If I am going to do that, I need more.

So, in addition to your fidelity, I want you to come seek Belerian with me. And when we find him, I want you do do something very simple. I want you to kneel before him and apologize, and offer yourself to him as you did to me, to do with you what he will.

If you are alive afterward, then I may face some very difficult decisions. If you die, my choices become simpler.

Brandon: [holds her close]
You said we. If I can hold you to that, then I agree. When Jhereg's expedition is done, we shall go and seek him out. If you don't mind, a stop in Harrogate might be the best starting place.

Blackbird:

Yes. We. That is what I want.

Narrator:
In a moment of sudden silence, she looks down and notices her disheveled, bloodstained robe. She flushes slightly. Brandon, notices at the same time. He takes the robe from her and wraps a blanket around her.

Blackbird notices how easily he brushes away her pretensions at modesty.

Blackbird: [unspoken]

Good lord, I've been letting him undress me.

I am not cold. And I think it is foolish to suddenly decide to act embarrassed.

Did I just say that?

Brandon:
While I have enjoyed telling you nothing but the truth, I find I greatly enjoy hearing simple truths from you. Beauty like yours has no cause for embarrassment.

Narrator:

Brandon takes her in his arms and lowers her to the soft furs. For the most part, she surrenders her mind to the present, to the sensations and desires that are overwhelming her. Her desire for him had been growing all evening, and had magnified the more when he offered his hands to her. Offered everything he had in the world, as though it were trinkets. Offered her his heart, and agreed to whatever she asked. It made him very desireable, and impossible to resist. One practical thought does intrude, though, as things become more intimate. She blushes as she speaks.

Blackbird:

This is perhaps an indelicate time to ask this question, but are you contagious? Your battle with the pox can hardly be hidden.

Brandon: [slight chuckle]
This isn't the pox, it's a surface condition that mimics pox. The woman who cursed it upon me did so for killing her boyfriend. She assured me that her death would not lift the curse, but make it permanent. She said that any woman could lift the curse, but that likely none would. She refused to say more about it.

To the best of my knowledge it isn't catching. It has created more political problems for my obstinate father than health problems for me.

Blackbird: [a little wary]

Any woman can lift the curse? This one hasn't the slightest idea how.

Also, "to the best of my knowledge" is not what I would call resounding reassurance. Anything that has the capacity to mark up my face makes me very nervous.

Brandon:
It's not the pox, and no one has caught it from me.

As far as lifting the curse, your interpretation of a witch's words is as good as mine.

Blackbird: [chuckles]

Well, kisses work for frogs. We'll have to experiment and see what works for warts....

...

Narrator:
Later on, when her blood pressure dropped back to normal, she woke to what she had just done.

Blackbird: [stiffens, sits up suddenly. unspoken]
What the hell have I just done?

(Slept with your enemy who has become your lover.)

I know that, where were you? Where was my head?

(You weren't listening to me, didn't want to hear me. Actually, you were thinking about last night.)

Weren't listening to you? What did you say?

(Not much, just asking you if you were sure about what you were doing. You acted sure, and it's all moot now.)

Brandon: [reacting to her]
Are you OK?

Blackbird: [aloud]

I don't know. You tell me.

(Get a grip on yourself.)

Who bought who last night? I don't know if I won or lost.

(Maybe winning and losing is too simple a concept for this situation.)

Maybe. It does seem to me that if things really are what they seem, then I have obtained something for Bel better than mere revenge. What good would mutilating Brandon really have done the long run? Maybe now there is a chance for something better for all of us, a chance to heal.

I'm just not sure how much it cost me. Am I being naive to trust Brandon? I should know better. He has promised me so much, though. It will become clear sooner or later whether he meant what he said.

(The thought that he *does* mean it -- that he does really love you -- is more frightening to you than his betrayal would be.)

Yes, I know what to do if he betrays me. I do not know what to do with his love. I fear I am a fool. I've tied myself to three plow horses and sent them off in different directions. The results are predictable.

All I can do, I guess, is take the problems one at a time. Problem one is that I am paired with Brandon for the time being -- until we find Bel. What am I going to do with him? Do I *want* to be his lover? Why do I have such a hard time answering that question?

(You don't have a hard time answering it. You have a hard time accepting your answer. You hate to admit how much you enjoy him, in multiple ways. He is bright, charming, seemingly devoted and understands you very well.)

Yes, but is that enough for me to put myself into this kind of trap? Tiberious and Belerian also have qualities I find equally attractive. They all understand me in their different ways. That is one of the things that attracts me to each of them.

(You want it all.)

What?

(Just like you sang to Bel, you want it all. You want your sweet musician, your gentle soldier and your dashing nobleman. You are a very greedy girl. And very indecisive.)

I don't have what I need yet to make a choice. I don't want to throw away my options. I think when I put Bel and Brandon together, I am going to learn something about both of them. Maybe something that will make my choice easier, maybe not. I want to wait and see. Maybe I can have it all.

(In your dreams.)

We all have dreams.

Brandon: [holds her hair away from her head bruise]

After effects of the blow to your head?

Blackbird: [nods absently]

The weblike thing you put on your wound. What was it?

Brandon:
Ah, that. It's something that a person who is on good terms with the backwoods people in the hinterlands of Waltham and McMannon can get. It is spider web, which by itself is good for cuts, enchanted to heal. A discrete priest I know of assures me that it is not cursed or made with foul magics, but a simple healing magic. He also warned me not to use it near members of the Claw, as they might have a different opinion. It's one of the things that I have come across over the years as I have looked after things to regenerate damage. As I have the profession of arms as a trade, it has come in quite handy.

How are you feeling? Not just your head, but how is your heart?

Blackbird: [smiles]
Like it was kicked by a horse. And I'm not talking about my head. But forget my heart.

Listen....

Brandon: [afterwards]
Did I just hear someone say she'll tell you she loves you?

Blackbird:
You might have.

Narrator:

Brandon: [strokes her hair]
I'm not sure if it came across or not, but a while ago I offered you Marquessa d'Harrogate. So long as both of us breathe, that offer remains open, without strings attached. As an Anchor, your travels would be expected. And who, with my past, would I be to say who you could be with? Perhaps I am dreaming aloud, but on the other hand, neither of our fathers will live forever.

Narrator:

"...and it seemed like you were making your own way, perhaps messily, into Waltham nobility."

And she realizes she *is* tempted.

Blackbird: [unspoken]

I put all that behind me. I want to be an Anchor.

(You want it all, again.)

And I always thought I lacked ambition. Am I suspended in Gaffa? Mother, where are the angels? I'm scared of the changes.

My position in the Traveling Anchor is already precarious. I don't know how they would feel about me being the Marquessa d'Harrogate. My answer will have to wait.

However, if the subject comes up with anyone -- your father, perhaps -- you may say I am considering your offer.

Brandon:

Certainly, but it is a well-accepted Waltham custom for high nobility to rise in their guilds. The Traveling Anchor knows that as well as any other guild. Master Szent is a powerful man in Harrogate, but he remains an Anchor.

Blackbird:

Even so, I would not be ready to answer you.

I think I should be leaving now. It is late and we both have things to think about that may be easier to consider in solitude.

You said last night that you are still mean. In what ways will you be mean to me? Meanness has a way of tainting things whether one wants it or not. Even love. Especially love.

Brandon:
So far I've been able to restrict myself to inflicting it upon those who lie to me, especially for their own gain. Sometimes it gets away from me when dealing those who have failed to try to do what they know they should have tried. I use it subtly against those who would manipulate me. Cynthia and Constance both have lied to me and toyed with my feelings. Both have not fared well for it. I do hate to lose, still, especially in games where the other side thinks they are cheating and getting away with it.

While I don't think of myself as saint material, I will admit things like this to those with the courage to ask me. And I'm a great deal better at choosing when and how to be mean -

the training of a Harrogate comes through in the end sometimes.

Mean to you? Last night, when you would die rather than tell more than half truths, I used the truth, hopefully with some skill, in a manner that might be thought of as mean. I have been studying you perhaps as long or longer than you have been studying me in preparation for that night. I lured you to my bed knowing that if you truly wished me dead that I would in the end give you my life. I wanted that night in case I guessed wrong. A memory of what it might have been like, a re-assurance that what I was throwing my life away for was truly worth the high price.

And tonight, when we both were telling each other truths, I was as charming and forthright as I could be.

Blackbird:
Cynthia and Constance have never been my favorite people. I have not seen how they have fared badly, though.

You may find that I, too, will toy with your feelings. Every man who has ever held my affection can attest to that. I am not a nice girl, Brandon. That's why you like me. I will at least try to toy with you honestly. I seldom lie to people I am intimate with.

Brandon: [gets a smile from him]
So be it.

Blackbird:

Neither of us can pretend things are normal between us -- we are taking chances in this union that most people would call insane. There is a lot of unpleasantness just waiting to happen. I hope we make the right choices, Brandon, I really do.

Brandon:
That closely agrees with many people's opinion of me - insane. The unpleasantness is future, which we may influence. But there is just as much pleasure waiting to happen again and again.

I salute you and the thought of our making the right choices. Neither of us are fond of the fates.

Next Blackbird file.