"What do we have?"
"Not much," she admitted. "I have enough for some stew, since we didn't hunt today. Is that good for you?"
"That's fine," he assured her.
"Let me go get it out of the pantry," she called. "You know, that room you have down in the basement is unbelievably handy. Where did your family get that piece of metal?"
Tarrin had honestly forgotten about that. His father had brought that back from his days in the army, a very rare object of magical enchantment. It radiated intense cold all the time, so cold that it couldn't be touched with bare skin, and it served as a very convenient manner of storing food. The chilled food-frozen, if it was kept close to that piece of metal-kept a very long time, allowing the Kaels to stockpile an impressive amount of food. Elke Kael had worked out exactly where something needed to be placed in relation to that metal to determine if it would simply chill, get very cold, or would freeze. She had even put marks on the floor to show her children those zones of varying cold, so they'd know where to put what.
"Father brought it back with him from his time in the army. He said he found it in the ruins of an old tower out in the forest. Ruins like that are dotted all over Sulasia, from before the time of the Breaking."
"I know," she agreed. "He's damned lucky to have found something like that. Even more, to have kept it."
"He sorta didn't tell anyone what he had," Tarrin chuckled. "Though it was hard to explain why there was frost on his pack in the middle of summer, he used to say."
Jesmind laughed. "No doubt there. That would stick out a little bit. You know that some of that food down there is from when you were here?" she told him. "It's still good."
"I'm not surprised," he said calmly. "As long as it stays frozen, it'll keep."
"I had to throw out all the meat," she told him. "It all got tough and tasteless. It doesn't keep for a long time, even if it's frozen."
"I know."
"But I have a kill in there from last ride, enough for a stew." She gave him a smile. "I found an old room buried near that old brewhouse, a room that had casks of ale and wine in it."
"You found father's aging chamber?" Tarrin said with a laugh. "He had to hide it because some of the villagers would try to sneak over here and steal father's brews."
"Why did he tolerate it?"
"It was soemthing of a good-natured competition with them, Jesmind," he chuckled. "They'd try to find it, and he'd try to hide it from them. They didn't outright steal it when they found it, though. Father would go down into the aging room and find an empy spot in the rack, with a pouch of coins to pay for it hanging in its place. I got pretty annoyed with it. Every time they found it, Father would make me help him dig a new opening, and fill in the old entrance." He laughed. "The last time, we dug a twenty span tunnel that opened under the barn. It's been nearly two years-four, really, and I guess they never did find it."
"That's where I found it," Jesmind smiled. "Those casks down there have aged very well. Especially that apple wine. I think I'll go get some of it."
"Father's going to be very cross with you for raiding his stores, Jesmind."
"I'll make it up to him," she said with a grin. "Can you make wine like that?"
"Afraid not. I don't have father's passion for it. How much of it is left?"
"Almost all of it. I don't really drink much. Just for special occasions is all."
"This is a special occasion?" he asked.
"Of course it is," she said with a laugh. "It's your first full day home. If that's not a reason to celebrate, then there's something very wrong with the world." She smiled at him. "Then we can celebrate your second full day home, then your third, and then we'll really celebrate when you come back home later."
"That may not be a celebration. My parents will be coming home soon, Jesmind, and you know that this is their house."
"This is our house," she corrected. "I'm sure your parents and I can work it out."
"I'd like to watch that," he told her with a laugh. "My mother defines stubborn. If you think Triana is bad, you've never seen my mother when she has her hackles up."
"We'll see. Now let me go get dinner over the fire."
Tarrin sat down with Jasana, who had a book that had once been Jenna's out and looking through it. "What are you up to, kitten?" he asked.
"Looking at the pictures," she said, holding the book out. "What is this?"
"It's a dragon," he replied, looking at it. "That's a pretty good story."
"Story? This is a story?"
"Of course it is."
"Mama's never read it to me," she huffed. "What's it about?"
"Why don't you read it yourself?"
"I don't know how," she admitted. "Mama hasn't taught me yet."
Tarrin was surprised. Jesmind was really ignoring Jasana's education! He was about to go about teaching her, but then he rememebered that Jesmind had been worried about Jasana's magic. If Jasana could read, she would be exposed to a great many things in the many books in the Kael house that may give her the wrong ideas, may cause her to try to experiment. Jesmind had actually been very shrewd in holding that back, he realized, controlling the outlets of her child's imagination until such time that she could ensure that Jasana didn't do anything drastic.
He thought about it. There were two options. The first was to keep her in the dark, to contain her by restricting her possible motives to use it. The second was to go ahead and teach her now, while she was young, and ingrain into her the limitations and restrictions she would need to know to be a responsible Sorceress. But that was a dangerous choice, because Jasana was still a very, very young child, not possessed of the kind of discipline needed to know when not to use her magic.
Perhaps the choice had already been made. That close to her, he could fully assense her. He knew for certain that she had already used her power, and once it was used, it could be used again. Maybe he did need to train her now. At least then, the chance that she would have some kind of catastrophic accident would be minimized. Jesmind would just have to deal with a daughter that had the power to really make her life a nightmare.
Either way, it wasn't something he was going to do without Jesmind's support. He'd have to explain it all to her, let her make the decision. Jesmind was still Jasana's primary parent, the one who made the decisions about their daughter. He wouldn't violate that. After all, he had only been there for a day and a half. He wasn't going to interfere.
"Well then, since you can't read it, let me do it for you," he said, sliding her up onto his lap, then opening the book to the first place.
"What's it about?" she asked.
"It's an old story about a man who loved a princess," he told her. "Her father didn't think the man was worthy of her, so he told him to go bring him back the horns of a dragon as proof that he was worth marrying his daughter."
"He sounds mean."
"He's supposed to be mean. He's the villain. Now let me read it to you."
And so, Tarrin started reading Jasana the story. He had to admit, he did rather like this old romantic tale. About a young man named Aran, an apprentice to a cobbler and commoner who had fallen in love with the princess of his kingdom. He had met her while she was walking the streets in disguise, for she was an adventurous and strong-willed young woman. But he didn't know who she was. He befriended her, thinking she was a homeless girl, but had eventually fallen in love with her, and she with him. But her father, the king, had discovered his daughter's nightly travels, and was furious that she had fallen in love with a cobber's apprentice. He forbade them to see one another, but in an act of malicious cunning, he offered the young man an opportunity to marry his daughter, if he would bring the king back the horns of a dragon to prove his worth.