Wedding by Ann Herendeen Page A

to the expectations of the others. Here, at
Aranyi, there were no complicated skills to master, no duties to
perform. My growing fluency in the language, always easier for
telepaths, as we perceive the meaning of the thoughts before they
are spoken, made the illusion effortless to sustain. Each day I
grew more confident. With Eleonora’s malice perversely protecting
me, I was free to come and go, to ask any question without arousing
suspicion, to observe all the fascinating work of the household. I
could look and talk and wonder to everyone.
    The fortress alone was bigger than any
building I had seen on Eclipsis, apart from ’Graven Fortress, a
cross between a castle and a palace. The walls were solid and
thick, massive blocks of stone fitted together in a sophisticated
design that kept enemies and bad weather out while allowing air to
circulate and conserving heat. Like any defensive structure, it had
a strong back. Three sides of the building were freestanding, while
the fourth, up to the third floor, was built into the mountain.
Different rooms on the same level might look out on a steep drop or
be underground, depending on which side they faced.
    Unlike the circumscribed seminary and signal
station of La Sapienza, Aranyi Fortress, secure behind two
protective walls and backed by the impenetrable northern mountains,
was free to spread out in three dimensions. There were miles of
corridors and hundreds of rooms, for living, working, eating and
storage. There were several staircases: winding ones spiraling up
into watchtowers, broad ones leading up to the family bedrooms and
nursery, and to the servants’ quarters above. There was a dungeon,
three steep levels below the ground floor, I was informed by a
grinning boy hurrying up from the root cellar. The nearer basements
served more humdrum purposes: for keeping food, as this boy was
retrieving, for dry goods and weapons, and lower down, for the
plumbing.
    The layout of the fortress was a standard
plan, but new to me who had known only the uniformity of La
Sapienza’s square shape. From a wide, deep cobblestone courtyard,
one came in at the entrance, made deliberately narrow to create one
last bottleneck for invaders should they manage to get past all the
outer defenses. From there, one could ascend a majestic stone
staircase, or turn and enter the great hall, where we ate dinner
and supper. Breakfast was served buffet style in a smaller room to
the side near the kitchen, saving work early in the day.
    Guardrooms near the front and rear entrances
occupied large areas on the ground floor. The upper stories and
turrets had lookout posts and attics; the middle floors were a
mixture of workrooms and guestrooms, including the Zichmni Suite,
kept always in readiness should the Viceroy or a member of his
family arrive on short notice. Bedrooms, for family, guests and
servants, ran along the three outer walls, but the storerooms were
dark and gloomy, dug into the hard rock that sheltered us. Any work
that required bright light, like sewing, was done in rooms near the
front and top of the house.
    The hall was two stories high, to give a
sense of grandeur and, more prosaically, allowing heat to rise and
dissipate from the assembled company and the enormous fireplace.
The family and guests of rank sat on chairs at the high table on a
dais at the front of the room, opposite the entrance, for safety
and warmth. Everyone else sat on benches at tables running the
length of the room. The hall had an unfurnished look most of the
time; because there was so much willing help, the household
followed the old custom of setting up trestle tables before each
meal and disassembling them again afterwards, stacking them against
the walls. It was as if every day were a potential festival, with
dancing or other entertainment to follow the food.
    At the very top was the eclipse platform, the
unique feature that marked the fortress as the home of ’Graven.
Just as at La Sapienza, where we had clambered