"Which only proves how dishonest the men who taught you have been. Not only was Rasa a schoolmaster, she was also the teacher of Nafai and Issib, Elemak and Mebbekew, and many, many other boys."
"But that was in ancient times," said Luet.
Shedemei gave one bark of laughter and said, "Doesn't feel that long ago to me."
After supper was over, they walked slowly through the courtyard as the children sang together, in their rooms, in the bathhouse, or reading in the waning light of day. There was something strange about the song, and it took a while to realize what it was. Luet stopped suddenly and blurted it out. "I never knew that diggers sing!"
Shedemei put an arm around her. Luet was surprised-she had never thought this cold woman would be capable of such an affectionate gesture. Nor did she do it the way men sometimes did, putting an arm around a lesser man to show affection but also power, superiority, ownership. It was... yes, it was sisterly. "No, you never knew they could sing. Nor had I ever heard their voices raised in song until I started this school." Shedemei walked in silence beside her for a moment. "Do you know, Luet, for all I know the diggers never did sing during all those years that they lived in such close proximity to the angels. Because they were always at war. Perhaps because singing was a thing that ‘skymeat' did, and therefore was beneath their dignity. But here in slavery they lost their dignity and learned music. I think there might be a lesson in that, don't you?"
Luet assumed that Shedemei had been planning to tell her this all along, and that the lesson must therefore be aimed particularly at her, though later she would realize that Shedemei really was simply making an observation and meant nothing by it. "I think I understand," Luet said. "I was in slavery once, you know. Do you think all the songs of my life come from that? Is captivity a stage we should all pass through?"
To her surprise, there were tears in Shedemei's eyes. "No. No one should go through captivity. Some people find music in it, like you, like so many of the earth people here, but only because the music was already in them, waiting for a chance to get out. But your brother didn't find much music in his captivity, did he?"
"How do you know my brother?" asked Luet.
"Did he?" insisted Shedemei, refusing to be diverted.
"I don't know," said Luet.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't think his captivity has ended yet."
Another silence. Then Shedemei answered softly, "No. No, I think you're right. I think that when his captivity finally ends, he,'too, might find a song in his heart."
"I've heard him sing," said Luet. "It isn't much."
"No, you haven't," said Shedemei. "And when he does sing, if he does, it will be a song such as you have never heard."
"Whatever it is, if Akma sings it, it won't be on key."
Shedemei laughed and hugged her close.
They were near the front door of the house, and one of the teachers was already opening it. For a moment Luet thought that she had opened it in order to let them out, but it wasn't so. There were three men on the porch, and two of them were humans of the king's guard. The third was an angel, and after a moment Luet realized that it was old Husu, who had once been head of the spies and now was retired to the supposedly less demanding position of an officer in the civil guard. What could he possibly be doing here?
"I have a book of charges for the woman called Shedemei." It was hard for him to get his mouth around her name.
Before Shedemei could speak, Mother pushed forward. "What is this about?" she asked.
Husu was immediately flustered. "Lady Chebeya," he said. Then, noticing Edhadeya, he took a step backward. "No one said... I've been misled, I think!"
"No you haven't," said Shedemei. She touched Chebeya lightly on the shoulder. "You may be a raveler, but you're not Hushidh, I'm not Rasa, and this good man is definitely not Rashgallivak."
In vain Luet searched her memory for details of the story Shedemei was alluding to. Something about Hushidh the raveler destroying the army of Rashgallivak. But Husu had no army, not anymore. She didn't understand and wasn't going to.
"Husu, you have a book of charges?"
"Shall I read them to you?"
"No, I'll simply tell them to you," said Shedemei. "I assume that I'm charged by a group of men from this neighborhood with creating a public nuisance because of the number of poor people who call at my school, with incitement to riot because I'm teaching the children of former slaves right along with other girls, with confusion of sexes for having appended the male honorific ro to the end of the name of the Hero Rasa in the name of my school. And, let me see-oh, yes, I'm sure there's a charge of blasphemy because I call the wives of the Heroes Heroes in their own right-or is that merely a charge of improper doctrinal innovation?"
"Yes," stammered Husu, "improper doctrinal... yes."
"And, oh yes, mustn't forget-treason. There's a charge of treason, isn't there."
"This is absurd," said Chebeya. "You must know it is, Husu."
"If I were still in the king's council," said Husu, "then yes, I'd say so. But I'm in the civil guard now, and when I'm given a book of charges to deliver, then I deliver them." He handed the polished bark to Shedemei. "It's to be tried in Pabul's court in twenty-four days. I don't think you'll have any trouble finding lawyers who'll want to speak for you."
"Don't be silly, Husu," said Shedemei. "I'll speak for myself."
"That's not done by ladies," said Chebeya-and then laughed at her own words, realizing whom she was talking to. "I suppose that won't make any difference to you, Shedemei."
"See? Everyone has learned something today," said Shedemei, also laughing.
Husu was astonished at the lightness of their tone. "These are serious charges."
"Come now, Husu," said Shedemei. "You know as well as I do that these charges are deliberately stupid. Every single crime I'm charged with consists of something that Akmaro the high priest has been teaching people to do for thirteen years. Mixing poor with rich, mixing diggers with humans and angels, mixing former slaves with freeborn citizens, applying the honors of men to women, and denying the authority of the king's priests over doctrine-that is the substance of the treason charge, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"There you are. These charges have been placed against me specifically because if I am put on trial, Akmaro's teachings will be on trial."
"But Pabul is not going to convict you of a crime because you're following the teachings of my husband," said Chebeya.
"Of course he's not. It doesn't matter what he does. The enemies of the Keeper don't care how the trial turns out. I don't matter to them. It may be the very fact that you came to visit me today that led them to decide to lay these charges. They probably expect me to call you as witnesses on my behalf. And if I don't, they'll call you as witnesses against me."
"I won't say a word against you," insisted Luet.
Shedemei touched her arm. "The act of calling you is what matters.
It ties Akmaro's family with the case. The more you defend Shedemei, the more credit the enemies of the Keeper will gain with the public. Or at least that part of the public that doesn't want to stop hating the diggers."
Husu was livid. "What is your source of information? How did you already know what the charges against you were?"
"I didn't know," said Shedemei. "But since I deliberately broke every one of those laws and made it clear to anyone who asked that I knew I was breaking them, I'm not at all surprised to find them on the book of charges."
"Did you want to be put on trial for your life?" asked Husu.
Shedemei smiled. "I assure you, Husu, no matter how things turn out, the one certainty is that I will not be dead."