Hearts in Zenith (Four Husbands and a Lover)

42. The Homecoming

The beloved Palmyr met Ondrey and me with fat drops of summer rain. The first one landed uncertainly on my nose, then another and another, speeding the rhythm. In moments, my native city's dust smelled of furrow just opened by a plow.

Deadhead's enlisted man now, Ondrey rode with the column. The canals, the smell of the sea and the crowds agitated by the deluge made him turn his head this way and that. Rain made his hair curl like hops, then plastered it to his skull—his complaint, not mine. I was itching to get out of the saddle and straighten it for him if he so wished. But he kept on wiping the rainwater out of his eyes, and looking, looking at the streets winding to the sea, the temples' pointed roofs, the public fountains in the corners of the plazas and the bridges arching over the canals...

After the horses were stabled, I couldn't take him straight home, no matter how my heart ached for it. That would deprive him from his first fill of Palmyr. So, we walked to the Old Market. Or, more precisely, he walked. I waddled.

We made our way to the confluence of two canals, the Gulf and Gala's Rock overhanging it. I pointed to it.

The rain abated by then. The columns of pink sunshine poured through the breaking clouds, crowning Palmyr's temples and palaces on the hills with tiaras of evening light. The most humble paving stone glistened with its brightest color, brought out by the moisture. It was in the air as well, softening skin and lips. It was irresistible, so I kissed him till my mouth hurt.

"Glorious," he said with a blissful sigh. "Glorious, but you must rest. And she agrees."

His hand found the spot the baby used for practicing her high kicks. I didn't argue with his interpretation. The three of us had to go home anyway, if we didn't want to explain ourselves to the Watch on top of Kozima.

***

Kozima waited at the gates with two servants. When I rode out to Nortlungen, he employed just one. Pride for how ably he ran my household stirred within me, despite the tension.

I also didn't miss the efforts he put into his appearance. He wore a tan tunic and pants with black and red scrollwork on the collar, cuffs and down the front seam. His hair no longer hung into his eyes, cut shorter, but he started on a beard in some mind-boggling accord with Ondrey. The only thing that remained completely unchanged were his eyes, as soulful as the day he had kissed me goodbye. In short, he was a rare beauty.

The denizens of our street haven't seen a more traditional greeting from a faithful husband to his Mistress and Wife in the last fifty years. Queen Zinaida's Mistress of the Ceremonies couldn't have faulted Kozima's bow or the welcoming embrace he offered the junior brother-husband. Ondrey's shoulder blades stiffened when Kozima's hand patted his back, but he straightened from the hug with a murmured, "Well met, brother."

The servants bowed in their turn, as mild mannered as could be. The neighbors dabbed their eyes and whispered to one another about Ondrey's size and blonde curls. It was all very sweet.

Then why did the vein in my temple pulsated, warning me of the two thunderstorms brewing? One was hanging the air to erupt overnight. Another waited inside my house, under the carpets and in the corners. I rubbed the unpleasant sensation away and stepped over the threshold.

I had been right about the new acquisitions in my absence. The carpet lining the ground floor was bright and soft. Yet another giant vase graced the alcove by the kitchen. It was white, green and blue. And very large! One of the servants barely made it past this new obstacle, without bumping its bulbous top with his shoulder. He gulped and scurried to return to his duties, while the other ushered Ondrey upstairs.

And... I was alone with my first husband. It used to result in immediate caress, but not this time.

Kozima crossed the floor without a word to step out into the courtyard. The reason I bought a house further away from the Deadhead's compound was this lovely tiled space, surrounded by the gallery. Now, it was furnished with a shrine to Gala, a lemon tree, a bench and a pulpiter for books. A climbing rose twisted itself into one entity with the pergola.