Natural Ordermage

X

Sevenday dawned hazy and warm, but at least Kian hadn’t insisted Rahl join him in a sparring session, and there had even been a piece of leftover green-apple-cracker pie for breakfast. Midday dinner had been even better, with breaded cutlets and brown gravy with roasted potatoes.

That had taken Rahl’s mind off all the things that were nagging at him. He still worried about Fahla, and Jienela, and especially about having to go to the magisters for instruction in using order. To be a scrivener, he didn’t need instruction, but after he’d seen Balmor carted off, he couldn’t afford not to take the magisters’ instruction and teaching. But that didn’t make him any happier about it, especially not after what he’d seen and heard during the past eightday.

With all those thoughts on his mind, the afternoon dragged, and he had trouble concentrating on Philosophies of Candar. Each stroke of the pen took special effort.

“Rahl…Rahl…are you listening?”

Rahl jerked himself to attention. “Yes, ser?”

“I said I’m going down to see if Clyndal has gotten in any iron-brimstone. Or if he knows who might have backing clips.” Kian shook his head. “You get a good factor, and he’s never satisfied. They’re either sloppy and could care less, like old Hostalyn, or they’re doing what they shouldn’t, like that Kehlyrt fellow. I don’t know how long I’ll be. You did a good job on Tales of the Founders and on the Natural Arithmetics, but you’ll need to be even neater on this one.”

After his father had left, Rahl looked out the windows at the corner closest to the garden, where a traitor bird had landed on the low stone wall, calling out to anyone who would listen that a cat-or something-lurked in the parsley and brinn patches. His mother had harvested some more of the early brinn and had taken some sprigs to Elantria, the old healer who lived in a neat but modest cottage beyond Sevien’s dwelling.

Finally, Rahl forced himself back to the copying at hand. The philosophy book was easier…and harder than the mathematics book had been. It was easier because he could read it as he copied, but harder because the words seemed to twist back and around on themselves. He read the paragraph again.

…there is no school of thought or of mental debate developed within or upon Candar that cannot cite or claim in its defense at least one obscure principle from the fragments remaining from the Code of Cyador…yet presented within this tome will be a unified and concrete cosmological system of thought, developed in complete synchrony with its own categoreal notions and implications, which can stand any test raised by the philosophy of organism, since all relatedness has its foundation in the relatedness of actualities, relatedness being established as that which is dominated by quality and subordinate only to quality as defined in Cyadoran sense of sensibility…

He’d read that part at least three times, and while he thought he understood the meaning of almost every single word, he still did not have the faintest idea what all the words together meant.

Thwump!

Rahl looked up with a start.

A stocky young man with truncheon in hand stood just inside the workroom. It was Jaired-Jienela’s brother. The grower stepped toward Rahl, who hastily cleaned his pen and set it aside.

“Jaired…what can I do for you?” The question sounded inane, even to Rahl, but he had to say something.

“You’ll take her for your consort,” announced Jaired. While he was not so tall as Rahl, Jaired was older and stockier, and he did have his truncheon in hand.

Rahl’s was still in his small sleeping chamber. He’d never thought he’d need it while he was copying.

“Take who for what?” Rahl attempted to show surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“You know well enough what I’m saying.”

“You’re wrong,” Rahl persisted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about or where you got this idea.” He rose from behind the copying table and closed the Philosophies of Candar.

“Jienela,” snapped Jaired. “She’s going to be your consort, one way or another.”

Rahl smiled easily. “I’m sorry. Why would I do that? I’m but an apprentice scrivener.”

“Because you’re the one who got her with child.”

How could that be? Jienela? Rahl hadn’t sensed that she was…anywhere near that time, but Jaired bore an air of complete conviction.

“Are you so sure of that?” Rahl didn’t want to say he hadn’t slept with her.

“Who else could it be? You’re the only one she’s been looking at or walking with,” retorted Jaired.

“That’s what you’ve seen. Maybe we haven’t done anything more than that. Walking with a girl doesn’t get her with child.”

Jaired flushed. Then his face hardened. “You’ll not be slandering my sister. She’d not be doing what she shouldn’t.”

Rahl refrained from pointing out that Jienela couldn’t be carrying a child without having done something Jaired felt she shouldn’t have been doing. “And I suppose that was true of you and Coerlyne?”

“You leave her out of this!”

Rahl was between the copying table and the back stone wall of the workroom, and still without any weapon. “You’ve come in here and accused me of something without even letting me say a word. Don’t you think I should be able to say something?”

“I’m not for talking. It’s what you do to make things right that counts.”

“Let’s talk about what you want me to do.”

“You ask Da for her hand. There’s nothing else to talk about.”

“Then what?” asked Rahl. “After that, I mean.”

“You become consorts. That’s what.”

“And will your da pay Jienela a stipend?”

“A what?” A momentary look of confusion crossed the young grower’s face.

“Coins. Apprentice scriveners don’t make that much. My father barely brings in enough coins for himself and my mother.”

“You shoulda thought a’ that. That’s your problem, Rahl.”

“If…if I did what you say, it is,” admitted Rahl. “But…if you insist on our becoming consorted, it becomes Jienela’s problem as well. Do you really want your sister not to have enough to eat? Or not enough warm clothes come winter?”

“You shoulda thought a’ that,” repeated Jaired.

Rahl was getting tired of that phrase, but he was in no position to object strenuously. Not yet.

“If…as I said, I did what you think, I should have. But if I didn’t, why would I?”

“You did it. I know you did.”

“Oh…and I suppose Jienela told you?” Rahl’s voice was gently scornful.

“Jienela’s protecting you, but you’d not be deserving that.” Jaired raised the truncheon.

“But she is.”

Jaired stopped.

“If…if I did it, then you don’t want to injure me because how would I support your sister? If I didn’t do it, you shouldn’t injure me because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You twist words worse than a magister,” growled Jaired.

“I’m only pointing out that trying to beat me with that truncheon won’t do anyone any good. Neither will coming in here and yelling at me and telling me I have to do something that I never promised to do and that my parents are against.” Rahl moved away from the copying table and toward the narrow heavy frame Kian used to stretch leather for binding. There was a long knife in a battered sheath fastened to one side of the frame, the side shielded from the young grower.

Rahl had never liked using the knife; it bothered him almost as much as the gelding knife Shahyla had showed him. But Jaired didn’t have to know that.

Jaired frowned. “You think you’re so smart.”

“Everyone’s smart at different things,” Rahl said, taking another step toward the frame. He extended a hand as if to straighten the frame, then let his hand drop to the knife hilt, grasping it and sliding it out.

Jaired looked at the long knife and at Rahl.

Rahl smiled.

“You’d better think about what you’re doing,” the grower said. “Just because your da’s a scrivener, you can’t get away with hurting my sister. You’ll see.”

“I certainly didn’t force your sister to do anything,” Rahl said. “I don’t like being blamed and threatened for what she wanted to do. I never promised anything.” He took a step forward, holding the knife low. The afternoon light coming through the windows glinted on the polished dark iron.

Rahl could sense the other’s fear. In a strange way, that amused him, how Jaired had been so sure of himself when he’d thought he’d had the only weapon and the upper hand. Was confidence all about who believed himself to have more power?

“You can’t do that to her,” Jaired said.

“I’m not doing anything to anyone,” Rahl said. “I’m just saying that you can’t force what you want on me.” He took another step forward.

“This isn’t over,” blustered Jaired.

“I tell you what,” Rahl said quietly. “You just get out of here, and you think about things over the end-day, and so will I.”

“You better think hard, scrivener. You’d better.” Jaired backed up to the half-open door, then turned and left, hurriedly, but not quite at a run.

As soon as he was certain Jaired was well away from the house and workroom, Rahl replaced the binding knife with a shudder of relief. Then he quickly hurried to his sleeping chamber. There he reclaimed his truncheon before returning to the workroom. He laid it on the side of the copy table.

Should he tell his father and mother? He might as well-or at least suggest part of the problem. They’d find out before long and not necessarily in the way least unfavorable to Rahl. But…when…that was the question…and how much?

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but it wasn’t long before the workroom door opened and Khorlya peered in. “I was coming up the road, and I saw someone leaving…”

“That was Jienela’s brother Jaired.”

“What would he have been wanting?”

“To know if I intended to ask for Jienela’s hand. I don’t know where he got that idea.”

“It might have been that you spent more than a little time in the orchard with her.”

“I never said anything about consorting her, and I said so. He wasn’t happy when I told him that. He threatened me with a truncheon.”

“He’s concerned about his sister.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to barge in here and demand I consort with her.”

“Rahl…I told you that you shouldn’t see her.”

“I stopped seeing her-eightdays ago. Jaired didn’t like that, either.”

“He always has been a hothead, but-”

“From what I’ve heard, he’s always been hot elsewhere.”

“Rahl!”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“She’s a year older than I am,” Rahl pointed out.

“You’re not answering the question.”

“I did…once.” That was partly true. He had slept with her once, then several times more. “She surprised me.” That was totally true, not that he’d been displeased.

“Rahl…” His mother shook her head. “This could make things very difficult.”

“You know that when you told me not to see her anymore, I didn’t. And I didn’t promise anything.”

“Sometimes, actions are promises,” Khorlya said tiredly. “What you do is more important than what you’ve said.”

Rahl could feel himself getting both angry and irritated. “She was the one who started things, and now Jaired and you are both blaming me. I wouldn’t have done anything if she hadn’t been the way she was…and I didn’t let it last very long.”

“Rahl…what’s done is done. Who was more to blame isn’t the question.”

Rahl disagreed with that-violently-but there wasn’t any point in saying so. The idea that he might have to consort Jienela because she’d been the one who wanted to sleep with him was wrong. He’d even tried to make sure that she didn’t end up with child. And now, his mother, his own mother, was telling him that he might have to consort a girl she’d not wanted him to consort.

“Your father should be here in a moment. I thought I saw him heading up from the harbor. He’s not going to be pleased.”

That was an understatement, Rahl knew, and he certainly didn’t want to talk to his father about Jaired and Jienela, but there was no help for that.

Within a few moments, Kian stepped into the workroom. His eyes went from Khorlya to Rahl and back to his consort. “What’s the matter?”

Khorlya shook her head. “Jienela’s brother was here. He wants Rahl to consort Jienela because he slept with her.”

Kian looked at Rahl.

Rahl could feel the combination of anger and sadness. There wasn’t much to say. “She took me by surprise. It was her idea, and after that I broke it off as quick as I could.”

“That doesn’t help much.” Kian’s words were hard and condemnatory.

“Ser…I didn’t know much about women…”

“You were told. You were warned.” Kian’s voice increased in volume. “All you had to do was keep your trousers on and call on Bradeon’s daughter. But no, first you play in the orchard and then you start visiting the chandlery. You don’t think I didn’t hear about that, too.”

“I never even kissed Fahla,” Rahl retorted, “and I did what you wanted.”

“It was a little late for that,” Kian said sourly. “You may have made your future far harder than it ever had to be. You might even have to consort a girl who has nothing and never will.”

“Why?” asked Rahl. “She was the one who encouraged me.”

“You let her. It takes two, as you should have discovered,” replied Kian sadly.

“But she-”

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand? If someone tells you to hit someone with your truncheon and steal his wallet, does that make it all right?”

“No…but I didn’t hurt anyone, and I didn’t steal. If anything, she’s trying to steal what I might do.”

“Most people won’t see it that way, not in Recluce. All you had to do was to say no.”

All he had to do? When she’d been taking his clothes off and kissing him?

“Your mother and I will talk it over, and then we’ll see what can be done. We might be able to get one of the magisters to look into it. There are precedents…but I wouldn’t count on that.”

“What about tomorrow?” asked Rahl. “I was supposed to call on Shahyla.”

“Yes, you were, but this…” Kian frowned. “Have you told anyone else?”

“No, ser. Jaired was just here.”

The scrivener nodded. “We still might have a chance…” He looked at Khorlya.

She said nothing.

“If you can keep your trousers on and promise Shahyla nothing,” replied Kian, “then a simple visit can’t make matters any worse than you have. Or has she encouraged you as well?”

Rahl flushed. “No. Nothing like that.” He could feel that his mother didn’t agree with his father about visiting Shahyla, but she said nothing.

“You can finish the page you were copying before supper. Your mother and I have some talking to do. And you aren’t going out tonight, not anywhere.”

Rahl had already figured that out, and right now he didn’t need to do anything else to get them even more upset.