Part 5 (1/2)

But I'll kick you and you shall see all.

A nine-year-old Rianor had first perceived these words one night in lady Selene's room, although he had been seeing them for many years, ever since he had learned to read the embroideries on the Qynnsent handkerchiefs. Lady Selene had been downstairs at the ball with his parents. His little cousin, Inni, had cried and begged him to sneak into the lady's room and smell her lavender perfume from the bottle for so long that at last he had grudgingly agreed. He had gazed at the lovely picture of a telescope on the lady's desk, while Inni fluttered around her mirror. Then, just as he thought it was high time to leave, Inni brought the bottle to hima”as if he cared about women's smells, reallya”and managed to pour purple liquid all over the telescope.

Rianor remembered the smell as if it were yesterday, not fourteen years ago. It had been stronger, sharper, and sweeter, but unmistakably similar to Linden's delicate scent. It had made his eyes water and his head ache, as he had desperately tried to wipe it away with his handkerchief, succeeding only in making a purple mess out of lady Selene's picture and his handkerchief's embroidery. It was then that he had noticed the text. Instead of the usual wise thought of some great ancestor, the silk letters had spelled the unorthodox utterances of Qynnsent's most notorious lord. The frightened small boy had built a whole theory around them while waiting for his teacher with a sinking heart.

The old madman had surely talked about people who could not see things but feared them, little Rianor had thought, and people who saw things and had no fear. Rianor could see the lavender, and he was going to see lady Selene, too, so he should try to not fear her. And lady Selene would certainly fear losing her picture and her perfume, and if Rianor did not fear what she would do, perhaps she would not see what had happened at all?

But not fearing lady Selene had not worked at all, so the boy had turned his attention to the more understandable kicking part of the verse. He would have loved to kick stupid Inni, especially if that would make the lady see who had actually spilled her perfume; but of course it had been out of the question for the future Lord of Qynnsent to not take the blame himself, let alone do that. And who would the grown-ups suspect, anywaya”the sweet and obedient girl, or the boy who had almost killed himself jumping from the roof with what he had called an enhanced version of his mother's umbrella?

Kicking Inni would have probably worked, the grown-up lord Rianor thought, right according to Audric's drivel. That would have scared her enough to confess and make the adults see things as they were. Whatever else Audric had said, there certainly was logic behind the kicking aspect. Strangely enough, his logic concerned Rianor's current situation in some way. It had to. The current Lord of Qynnsent was not p.r.o.ne to indulging in nonsensical thoughts and childhood memories. Not with a wounded woman to take care of and an enemy of unknown essence in proximity.

”Rianora””

Linden had managed to drag her leg in a more natural position at Rianor's side. She had turned her face towards him, the light and handkerchief in one of her hands, her other arm on his shoulders. She was trying to push him up and seemed to have been calling to him for some time.

”Rianor, please say something!”

”If you ask me so nicely, my lady.” He could not resist teasing her as he gently freed himself from her arm with the intention to bend and examine her leg, but did not receive the angry or witty reply he was coming to expect from her. Instead, a silent tear crept down a cheek that was way too pallid.

”This was not a funny thing to do, Rianor. It was not funny at all.”

Cursing silently, Rianor gathered her in his arms. She felt so soft and vulnerable, this girl who battled Bers and invisible monsters.

”This verse on the handkerchief,” she whispered, ”you saw it and your face went blank. I thought that you were going to faint. And I thought that the verse was not real when I saw it earlier tonight. I thought that the samodiva was doing something to my eyes.”

”She is doing something to your eyes, yes,” Rianor said softly, ”that we know, but the verse has nothing to do with it. It is just something a past and weird Qynnsent lord created. Look as it may, this verse is nothing. You can read books about old Audric the Insane and his att.i.tudes. He made his dog a First Counselor of Qynnsent once.”

Linden smiled faintly. ”Really?”

”Really.” Rianor was interested in what her reaction would be. Audric had admittedly gone to an excess, but it was not unusual for n.o.bles to have close relations.h.i.+ps with their dogs or cats. Rianor had such a relations.h.i.+p himself. Some n.o.bles, Rianor included, also had affection for their horses, despite horses being beasts of servitude who were only forced into tractability by Ber harnesses and Magic. Somehow, Rianor could not believe the Bers' words that Star and Beauty and the others were treacherous creatures who would have otherwise taken every chance to kill or maim him.

All animals but dogs and cats were treacherous, the Bers said. Besides, wheeled motion, or indeed any non-human and non-Magical motion, was treacherous and perilous itself. So, the combination of wheeled motion and animals, such as a running carriage, was even more treacherous and perilous. Only strong Magic made carriages and carts and such at all possible, and people should still try to stay away from them when possible.

Still, the Bers did look the other way concerning n.o.bles' att.i.tudes towards horses. They even allowed some commoners, at least Master Waggoners, Stablers, Riders, and some of their apprentices and workers, to exhibit kind feelings towards horses, oxen, and similar. Even Master Growers and their workers, those of them who dealt not with the growing of plants but with the raising and care of pigs, cows, chickens, and other animals to be eaten, were allowed some kind feelings towards those. Even Balkaene peasant shepherds, cowherds, pig keepers, carters and such had allowances made for them.

Of course, n.o.bles were allowed more aberration than others in everything, while the commoners who dealt with animals as a part of their profession had their animal rites and Mentors' blessings to protect them and the world. Of course, this was what the Bers would say. What the truth was, Rianor did not know.

He did not believe all this. He did not, despite what had happened ten years ago. He did not blame the horses or the carriage for what had happened then, but blamed the Commanders and the Bers.

Think of dogs. Think of Linden. Now was not the time to be angry or sad yet again.

For reasons of their own, the Bers taught everyone rites for controlling dogs and cats, and let people keep dogs and cats in their homes. Yet, would commoners distrust those animals more than n.o.bles distrusted them? Would she?

”I would like to read about Audric,” Linden said. ”And I wish I had a dog, too.”

”Well, the books are in my library, so you will have no problem with them.” Rianor returned her smile. ” As for the dog, we will see what you think about mine, and what he thinks about you.”

He was glad to see some color return to her cheeks as the thoughts concerning Audric and kicking occupied his attention again. He would not be thinking of this, and even of motion and horses, if it did not matter here and now, but he just could not find a connection between Linden, kicking, and the whole situation. Still, an idea nibbled his mind, in the way it happened sometimes when he was about to discover something interesting but did not have all the details yet.

He had felt the same years ago when he had watched that big bird swoop; later, not yet knowing why, he had changed the size and shape of his mother's umbrella according to both his own body and the idea of the bird. Probably that was the only reason the fall had not been lethal. He had felt the same with his spring-device, too, before he had even drawn the diagram and confirmed the principle. But kicking and Linden?

She s.h.i.+fted, pulling away from him, and dragged herself up, breaking the sequence of his thoughts.

”Rianor, are you all right? We cannot just sit here.”

Rianor sighed, not quite feeling like kicking her, but close. She had interfered with his concentration for the second time tonight. He needed to be alone at times like thisa”to walk around and think, to draw a diagram, create an experimental environment. He did not want anyone around to distract him, did not want to be aware of their existence at all ...

But, of course!

Rianor jumped up and seized Linden's waist just before her leg gave away, very much aware of her.

That was it. The awareness of a person's or a thing's existence must be at least somewhat relative. To some extent, it must depend on whether he actually wanted to be aware, and to some extent it must be determined by accidental or intentional contact with the person or thing. Contact or, perhaps more accurately, physical contact was all there was in the kicking and ”making you see all” verse, too, whatever the old cranker had really meant, if he had meant anything at all. Rianor would need a diagram and a better explanation of the whole concept later, but for now he knew one thing. He had to somehow make physical contact with the samodiva or her well, and there should be a way for Linden to help him, see as she could the d.a.m.n abominations.

”Rianor, talk to me!”

She was clutching his s.h.i.+rt, as if she wanted to shake him but was restraining herself. He hesitated.

”I am all right, Linde. I am sorry I made you worry. I had some ideas, and I almost know how to get us out of here. Just stay quiet for a while now, and let me think it through.”

She looked at his eyes then, with the last expression he expected. It was not admiration, skepticism, polite indifference, or fear; it was nothing that people who heard about his ideas usually displayed. It was not even the hope or caution the situation would warrant.

The girl looked at him with nothing short of enthusiasm as she exclaimed, ”And why would you think it through all by yourself? I will help you!”

Rianor cut his words just before he could politely tell her to shut up and not mess with things too big for her beautiful head.

It had happened sometimes, with other ladies in his arms.

”I am your apprentice. Please, tell me what you were thinking about,” urged this particular lady, and Rianor sighed. She did have a point. He should start engaging her beautiful but clever head with Science and Natural Mechanicsa”and his own head with how he could use her unusual talents. She could be of use to him, that he already knew. Suddenly he was also wondering if she could actually partic.i.p.ate in, and not just be an object of, his research.

Could her att.i.tudes and her behavior tonight perhaps mean that she had submitted a Science Guild application because she wanted Science in truth, and not just the corresponding connections, social status, and the chance for n.o.bility?

He would not have thought something like this possible. He should test her.

And when she could walk by herself again, he should keep her away from his arms.

”All right, listen ...” Rianor told her, not really expecting her to understand flying thoughts on the border of the acceptable, not organized in at least a basic theory. ”And be quiet now.”

Linden narrowed her eyes, twisting the handkerchief in her hands, while Rianor tried to focus on the rest of his kernel of a theory. In a moment she had unsheathed her dagger and thrust it in his hands. ”Here you go. It was in the well's drum at some point.”