Part 21 (1/2)

”They are not just a fairytale,” Rianor said, quietly. ”And yes, if Houses will suffer because of whatever the Bers choose to do with this, Qynnsent will be one of the first, together with Laurent. Not Waltraud, even if the danger might be by their bordersa”for a part of my news is that they have a Ber of their own. Another piece of news is that the Bers now have Waltraud-independent reasons to hate me.”

”Besidesa”” Desmond looked at Rianor for permission to speak, unsure if Rianor had said all he wanted to say.

”Besides, we did not pay much attention to this, but we in Qynnsent were allocated to buy a smaller amount of flour than usual this past autumn. The Bers gave us less than usual.”

”Yes.” This from Mathilda. ”I have been making inquiries. It is not only us, it is mostly everyone. And it is not for lack of grain. All of Qynnsent, Waltraud, Laurent, and Iglika sold more grain than usual this last autumn, and so did Kadisha and Maeron from Dobria Province.”

The four Balkaene Houses usually produced sixty percent of Mierenthia's grain, the two Dobria ones providing another twenty.

”High Lord,” Desmond said, swallowing. Desmond was paler now, shadows evident beneath his eyes. Desmond must be very tired and in physical pain, Rianor suddenly realized. Strangely, he felt fine himself.

”High Lord, had I known yesterday what I know today, I would not have left you alone in the stables. Do me a favor, will you? Stop sending Robert away and wandering alone as you are apt to do. Or, no, Robert is just a manservant, that will no longer be enough. You should always have guards with you. Why is it now, of all times, that there is a former-n.o.ble Ber, and a Waltraud on top of that? I only know of three or four such other cases for more than seven hundred years of history. I thought she was dead.”

”So did her family.”

Rianor stared at a candle. ”Or else they were very good actors. And I know that most n.o.bles area”but Donald isn't. And I am wondering if the Bers would, after all, benefit House Waltraud. You saw what they did to Merlevine when she saw Donald.”

”Perhaps only Donald didn't know about her. Perhaps all of the rest, herself included, were good actors.”

”Perhaps. It is so little that we know, of anything.”

”In any case, there is a House that the Waltrauds hate even more than they hate us, and you have been told just which lady almost bled to death onto you yesterday, haven't you? Which lady's life you so obviously saved?”

”Mabelle of Laurent.”

”Yes, High Lord Maurice's wife, whose son Merlevine of Waltraud murdered. Armand, the First Counselor of Laurent, sent a message of friends.h.i.+p to me today. I think the High Lord will send one personally to you. They owe us now. We should use this; we should see what information we can get from them, and if needed, what help.”

”Excuse me?” That was Linden, who had been silent for some time. ”Would you mind telling us what happened yesterday?”

Her eyes were too bright on her pale cheeks, and her good hand was cradling the bandaged one. She tried to standa”and sat back, her face paler and her eyes brighter. ”Rianor, the rest of us might be of some help if we knew what exactly you two were talking about.”

Well, it was true, Rianor had not yet told his own story. Linden, at least, might be of help, and of course Mathilda and Master Keitaro might, even though Rianor did not expect the old master to necessarily talk now. He often gave his help when least expected. As for the other women, Nan already knew the story, for she had heard it last night while caring for Desmond, and Rianor did not expect much help from Inni or Jenelly. Those two were only at Council because all lords and ladies of a House must be.

Right now Jenelly's face had acquired the greenish tint she'd had in the elevatora”even the partial news must have been too much for hera”and Inni was embroidering as if she had not heard anything, her fingers nimble, her face calm. Why did Rianor not simply send those two to sleep? Nan, too, come to think of it, for tonight she was too silent and shocked.

Why did he have to deal with them?

The answer to this question came a few minutes later, after he had told of his Fireheart experiences (leaving what had happened before and after that for later). It was Inni who reacted first, suddenly raising her head from that cloth of hers.

”What you say is impossible, my lord” she declared at Rianor's prompting look, her voice calm and quiet. ”A holy temple's windows cannot be broken, for they are crafted with Magic even stronger than that of unbreakable gla.s.s. Unbreakable gla.s.s will become breakable, in time, but the Master himself has blessed the holy windows. The holy stone walls, too, will never crumble. ”

Then she bent over her embroidery again, her eyes yet again unfocused. Her fingers had not stopped working.

”Wretch it,” Linden whispered beside her.

Well, yes, things were wretched. Especially if Innia”Master-devoted, embroidering Inni who had no interests and questions inside hera”would know something so important, and Rianor would not.

But perhaps she knew it because she was Master-devoted. She had not had a reason to fight the knowledge. For her it was naught but one of all the ingrained, unquestioned truths, which she did not understand and thus did not truly know. Rianor, on the other hand, must have thoughtfully rejected this to be truth long agoa”and thus forgotten it.

Right now he wondered which one of them was the greater fool.

Not only a Magic-wielding apprentice, then, but also a Magic-wielding master. Or, alternatively, temple Magic that had failed.

Or, Magic that was fake. Rianor already had his doubts about that temple. Had anyone tried to purposely break temple windows before him at all? You could do it with normal unbreakable gla.s.s if you tried hard enough.

At least, he could.

”They did not take you, thank the Master. Oh, my boy, they let you go.”

Nan had spoken for the first time in many minutes, her voice full of tears, even though her eyes were dry.

”My boy, they don't take n.o.bles, usuallya”and yet they took that Waltraud girl last year. She is sharp, that one, from the inside, like a knife. I have seen her. I attended lady Eleora during the girl's Symbols, twelve years ago, and I heard the girl's screams even in the servants' hall when she hit little Orlin of Iglika and rendered him unconscious. The boy had hurt her, the girl claimed, but lady Eleora said that he had simply shown his watch, never touched her. Everyone thought the incident arranged by the High Lord of Waltraud, and yet ... I am not surprised that one such as her would commit murder.”

Or one such as me, Rianor thought, but said nothing.

”And there is something I must tell you all.” Nan sighed. ”This girl has great Magic. Otherwise, she would not have survived.”

”Survived ... what?” This from Linden, a tentative question.

After a long pause Nan sighed again, herself staring at a candle. ”I will tell you this, too. But first tell me, Lind, do you know where new Bers come from?”

”Yes, I know. It is possible to get the information, even though it is not widely publicized. They raise babies, but not their own, for they are all celibate. They take others' babies but never n.o.ble ones and only sometimes those of middle-cla.s.s commoners. Usually it is poor or unwanted babies they take, those who would not be truly missed. In this, at least, the Bers are considerate.”

Linden was silent now. Rianor looked at her and then at Nan.

”They say that this is not doing the babies a favor,” he said, ”so that fools won't go freely offering their children to be Bers. They say that a Magical life is a hard life, and life committed to serving the Master's world. No one sees the babies again until they have become Bersa”and not all of them do become Bers. Of course, the Bers say that the only safe way to grow Magic in a person is for this person to be raised as a Ber, by Bers. That if Magic somehow grows outside of this system, it is wild Magic, aberrant and perilous. Which, exactly, was the Magic I sought.”

He saw Linden s.h.i.+ft uncomfortably at this, but then she controlled herself.

Nan did not notice, her eyes still on the candle. ”Yes, my boy, and this, too, is the Magic they destroy.” She was listening, at least. ”Unless it is Magic too stronga”unless it is Fire Magic and strong enough to make it worthy for them to take it. They burn people. Yes, my lady Jen, they do.”

She waited a moment for Jenelly to stifle her gasps. ”They do not even cook them like food, but burn them alive and uncleansed, and with open fire. Whatever that is. I have never seen it and never wish to. But even though the Bers would not cleanse their victims before burning, they would heal them if they were too sick or wounded. The Bers prefer burning strong, healthy people; I do not know if the reason is to give those people a better, minuscule as it is, chance for survival, or if it is to make them suffer longer. Some Bers can heal, and some of those can heal even better than Master Healers; only the Commanders of Life and Death have skills that those Bers lack.”

Nan sighed. ”All this is information that, but for the Bers themselves, only Mentors and Master Healers know. And, but for the Bers themselves, only Commanders of Life and Death ever see the aftermath of a Ber burning.

”Few people are ever burned. It is only those who show signs of wild Magic, as well as some unforgivable criminals. Sometimes, some of them survive. That Waltraud girl must have survived burning. She must be stronga”and the Bers must have known it. A n.o.ble murderer would usually go to prison, often a comfortable one. n.o.ble crimes are more easily forgiven than the crimes of othersa”or were. Rianor, my boy, I have already told you all the secrets of Master Healers who are not Commanders, all the secrets I know. Only a few rituals are left, but I will tell them to you, too, later.”

She looked haggard as she said it; it must have been a difficult decision for her. Rianor was grateful to her for it, but he was also irritated. It had taken her so long to decide. Her doubts had taken valuable time that could have been focused on solving the problems at hand.

Why was it so hard for humans to concentrate on the task at hand? Humans were so difficult to work with. Despite all that Rianor thought and felt about Bers, at some moments he could understand why Bers and Mentorsa”or anyonea”would want to control humans' thinking.

”I see, Nan. Thank you for telling me this. I remember now that the last time when there were n.o.ble Bers was just before the Great Fire in Year 400a”when, indeed, the Bers were so weak that they almost let Mierber itself burn. What you have just told us confirms what we already suspected. The Bers need all the power they can get.”

”They have never taken High Rulers, my boy. And yet ...”