Later he realised he could easily have rebutted Havil's charge by simply pointing out that the child in question was at least three years old and that Doo had been on the island for hardly one year. He despised himself for his stupidity. At the following evening meal he struggled to make this point, but Havil was no longer interested in the topic. "Yes, yes," he said dismissively. "My dear cousin, yesterday I was merely remarking upon a coincidence. You don't actually think I was suggesting she is the brat’s mother, do you?" He was laughing as he spoke.
When they grew bored of discussing the battle, he and his friends bragged about the women they had abused, or would discuss courtiers known to them all.
Listening to them, Chaldez thought there was no one they respected; these youths knew everything, had done everything, could be told nothing. He grew increasingly anxious about what awaited Doo when they arrived at the capital; what would the court make of her? What would happen to the children? He was beset by feelings of guilt at having taken her away from a life that she seemed to have settled for.
As for himself, he began to think that the slavery he had known was preferable to the uncertainties of what lay ahead.
Of the two people from whom he might have sought comfort, Doo he was afraid to be seen with in view of Havil's scorn, and Dan was feeling so sorry for himself that he was incapable of providing any moral support. Then one night Doo came to his cot, and although their fumblings hardly amounted to conjugal bliss, sexual intimacy put them into an impenetrable cocoon of their own; a secret, private world which they alone could enter. Each discovered the wonder of becoming an extension, separate but not separated, of another human being. For Chaldez, the sense of oneness he now experienced made Havil and his cronies irrelevant, and Havil began to realise it; his barbs no longer stuck and he resented it; he resented the private world which his rival was vanishing into.
"Cousin," he said one evening at table, "did I tell you how sad some of the villagers were when Doo was taken away to be at your bedside? The women weren't sad, mind you; it was their menfolk who were miserable. They tell me that at one time or another Doo had been 'kind' to them all!"
Chaldez said nothing. He just stood up and left the table, aware that his abrupt departure would cause a sensation.
Later he received a message from Havil, requesting the favour of an interview. Curiosity made him agree to granting him one.
Havil, when he arrived, was obsequious. He pretended that the reason why he had wanted to speak to Chaldez was to invite him to present the simple trophies at a festival of games which were to be held on board in a few days' time. "They help to pass the time and keep us out of mischief. A bit of wrestling, races up the rigging, piggy-back jousting and so on. A bit of nonsense really, but the commander encourages it.
"If I present the trophies," remarked Chaldez, "I will be prevented from taking part."
Havil made an appearance of being astounded. "If we'd known you might be interested . . . " he began.
"As you say," said Chaldez, "a bit of nonsense I'm sure. But harmless nonsense."
Havil laughed. Then he cleared his throat. "I would ask you, cousin, not to take seriously what was said at the table last evening."
Chaldez's heart beat faster; he must have flushed because Havil reached out his hand and touched his arm. "Don't misunderstand me," he said. "You have no idea what is in store for you when you reach the court. What I say now in jest, to test you, will be said in earnest there, I assure you. We none of us here doubt but that you have excellent reasons for wanting Doo to be your companion on the voyage, but in many people's eyes it wouldn't be an acceptable arrangement. Certainly not at court - though of course it's not unheard of for a nobleman to chose a woman from the lower ranks to give him pleasure, if you understand me."
Chaldez scowled, then nodded. Havil went on: "I assure you, that is the only possible basis for having your wench at court with you."
Chaldez said: "Doo is my friend. She is not my wench."
Havil smiled. "If you say so, cousin. But believe me, at court one's friends are confined to one's equals." He gave Chaldez a meaningful look, then changed the subject. "We haven't seen much of Dan on this voyage, have we?"
Chaldez explained that he was not a good sailor.
"He's not too good on a boat; you're not too good on a horse - or so he was always telling us."
The thought of his friend making disparaging remarks about his horsemanship filled Chaldez with indignation. "Is that what he said?" he exploded.
Havil laughed. "If you've a fault, cousin, it's that you take things too seriously; it is a weakness, and at court they will find it out, and they will be merciless when they do. By the way, that eldest boy of your . . . of Doo collected a cuff from the helmsman today - or perhaps you know?"
Chaldez said: "It would be a poor sort of boy who never earned a cuff."
"Quite," agreed Havil hastily. "Don't misunderstand me. I approve of high spirits. He is a fine lad. Doo can handle him I'm sure."
"And if she can't," retorted Chaldez, "there's others who can eh?"
Havil laughed rather too loudly, then launched into a protracted excuse for having to go, and ultimately he took his leave.
The games were a scratch affair, arranged, Chaldez guessed, on the spur of the moment so that Havil would have an excuse for making his peace with him by inviting him to present the trophies. He entered the wrestling, which entailed stripping off to the waist. His opponent made a show of putting up a struggle against him but it was obvious he had no intention of winning. When the bout was over he pointed at the scar on his chest and asked him how he had got it.
"I was branded," said Chaldez.
"You were branded!"
"They thought I was trying to escape. I was a slave, you know."
This was a revelation, and in no time a talking point. No one appeared to know anything of Chaldez's past; from being a target for Havil's wit he was suddenly an object of enormous interest; for one of their number to have been a slave, and to have been branded too was drama indeed.
Chaldez allowed them to extract his story bit by bit: the wreck of Te Serrin; his enslavement to the potters; the killing of Fyre; his capture by Jedseg's islanders and his public branding. With each new episode he rose further in their estimation. He was admired for his reticence, and in retrospect, for the noble manner in which he had borne their lack of respect during the first days of the voyage.
The emergence of Chaldez robbed Havil of his ascendancy, and it made his relationship with Doo unassailable. She, the four children and even Dan, absent for so long, were all elevated by their association with so undoubted a hero.