Rahl laughed, ruefully. “That won’t be a problem. Either her father or her brother is always near.”
“Smart girl. Smarter than you deserve,” observed Khorlya. “You might be fortunate, at that, but don’t count on it yet.”
Rahl bit back what he might have said. “I could use that fortune.”
“Yes, you could, son, but you may be one of those who has to learn things for himself.” After a moment, she added, “Go on. You might as well enjoy the day, as you can.”
Rahl nodded. “I’ll be back before sunset.”
“That would be good.”
As he stepped out through the front door, he could sense her concern and sadness.
All because of Jienela’s brother? And because Jienela had wanted Rahl? Somehow, it didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t as though he’d done anything to hurt anyone, or that he’d done anything that she hadn’t wanted. And then, his mother saying that he had to learn things for himself, as if he had no brains at all, as if he never listened. He’d listened, and he knew all about women and their times of the month. He’d done his best, and because things hadn’t gone as they were supposed to, everyone was blaming him.
Still, because he didn’t want to risk seeing Jaired-or Jienela-he took the path through the edge of the protected forest that came out farther to the south, well past Alamat’s. That meant he had to walk several hundred cubits farther, then cut back. All in all, it added a good half kay to his walk, but the last thing he wanted was to see either Jienela or one of her brothers.
Although the day was pleasant, with only a scattering of puffy white clouds in the green-blue sky and a light breeze at his back, Rahl only encountered a few wagons and riders on the High Road, and no one else on foot. That was not surprising, because the road was not that heavily traveled on end-days.
It was slightly past midday by the sun when he started up the lane to Bradeon’s holding. Before long, he could see Shahyla standing on the porch, waiting for him, but this time, she left the porch and strode down the path to meet him. As she passed the geese, they stopped their hissing. She was graceful enough, he noted, but in a muscular fashion. She was clearly a herder.
“I hoped you’d come today.” Shahyla smiled warmly.
Rahl handed her the basket. “It’s more practical-brinn and sage.”
“That’s wonderful! I’ve never had the knack of growing brinn, and there’s never enough sage for the sausage. Father will be very pleased.” She laughed ruefully. “I think Semmelt would have preferred another honey cake or the apple bread you brought last time. He ate most of them.”
They turned and walked back up to the house and onto the shaded porch.
“Would you like some ale?”
“Yes, please.”
Rahl settled himself on the bench while Shahyla took the basket inside. Within moments, she returned carrying two of the tankard mugs. She handed one to Rahl, then settled onto the bench beside him.
“I’m glad you came. It’s so nice to have something special to look forward to at the end of the eightday.”
“So am I.” Rahl was halfway surprised to realize that he meant the words. “How are you doing?”
She offered a half-smile and a shrug. “There’s always more to be done than we can do. It took longer than he’d thought for Father to replace the broken pipes to the troughs. We lost a calf to a flux, and we had to pay a healer to check the others. She found one other with it, and we put it in a separate pen. Semmelt isn’t sure whether it will live.”
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled. “Usually, it’s best when nothing happens.”
Rahl considered that for a moment, then nodded. He hadn’t thought of things that way, but most happenings that were interesting weren’t all that good. His experiences of the past eightday were good examples.
“Has anything interesting happened in Land’s End?” she asked. “We’re always so busy here that sometimes it’s days before we find out things.”
“Well…the Council issued a declaration forbidding trade with Jerans and Jeranyi merchants and goods. That’s because of the pirates. They closed down the chandlery-”
“Old Hostalyn’s place? They closed it?”
“Kehlyrt-he’s a trader from the south-bought it from Hostalyn.”
“Oh…was that why the redheaded woman was there? I thought she was maybe a niece or something and that he’d been ill.” Shahyla absently pressed the side of her thumb against her left eye to still the twitching.
“No, he’s a widower, and his son and daughter help him…or they did. No one seems to know why the Council shut it down and posted guards. Oh, and then the Council Guards carted off Balmor because he did something. I was coming out of the alchemist’s when that happened, and he kept saying he hadn’t done anything.” Rahl took another swallow of the full-bodied ale. He did like it better than the watered ale he sometimes got at home.
Shahyla frowned. “I didn’t know Balmor that well, but he never seemed like he’d do something wrong. All that sounds like the Council is worried about something.”
“And…” he’d wondered about saying anything, but decided to anyway, “I’m probably going to have to take some training with the magisters.”
“That’s wonderful! Will you be a mage, then?”
Rahl shook his head. “Magister Puvort says that I have a little talent with order and that, unless I learn about it, I could get myself in difficulty.”
“Puvort?” Shahyla’s face clouded. “Semmelt says he’s trouble, that he’s always looking for the worst in folks.”
Rahl was glad that someone else felt that way, but he only nodded. “I’ve wondered about that, but he finally came to the house on sixday. I’m supposed to see him tomorrow.”
“Be careful.”
“I’ll be as careful as I can.”
Abruptly, she stood. “You’re hungry. Don’t your parents feed you?”
“Before I leave, but it’s a long walk.”
“If you’re like Semmelt, you need to eat all the time. Let me get you some bread and cheese.”
“I can come in…”
“You’ve had a long walk. I’ll be right back.”
Rahl didn’t protest but sat back in the bench and waited for Shahyla to return. Even if all they did was talk, he was enjoying the afternoon.
XII
Because he was thinking all too much about what oneday might bring, Rahl didn’t sleep very well. It wasn’t because his parents had lectured him, either. When he’d finally walked into the house late on eightday afternoon, his parents had been at the table. Once they’d confirmed that he’d done nothing untoward in dealing with Shahyla, the conversation had quickly turned to innocuous subjects. That had concerned him more than if they had lectured him, but he wasn’t about to bring up anything that would only bring more criticism. He’d had enough of that already, especially when so much of what they found fault with hadn’t been his doing.
Pleasant as his afternoon with Shahyla had been, once he was lying in the darkness of his own small sleeping chamber, the pleasure of the afternoon was not enough to stave off his worries-from the veiled warnings from Puvort, Rahl’s own concerns about Fahla, the more direct threats from Jaired, and the possibility that he might actually be forced to consort Jienela just because he’d gone along with her desire to sleep with him.
He woke early, without prompting from either parent, ate, and finished his chores.
Before he was finally ready to set out for the Black Holding, his father called him aside.
“The less you say to Magister Puvort,” cautioned Kian, “the better. Just tell him that you’ve thought over his words and that you’ve realized the wisdom of his suggestion.”
“Yes, ser.”
“After you return,” Kian said, “then we’ll visit Jienela’s parents.”
“Her parents?”
“Her brother has demanded you consort her, has he not? That’s not properly his position. Her parents may not wish a consorting with a penniless scrivener. Or we may be able to make other arrangements. Much of that will depend on what Magister Puvort determines. You might ask him, as well, if his training has any restrictions. If he asks why, you could certainly tell him that your parents wanted to know.”