by Gail Merritt
After porridge and bread, we completed our discipline tasks, so called by Black Mantle as they had little to do with our purpose for being at the Talarin, but taught us to appreciate and honour tasks performed by those who would one day serve us. There was no choice in our allotment, scrubbing floors, washing linen, helping in the kitchen, repairing or gardening were all chores and I dreaded what I would be set to do. My brief visit to the kitchen to gather bowls had filled me with fear for the cooks had short tempers and the heat and smells were overpowering.
To my joy, I was put in charge of the pigs, under the supervision of Old Noah, the ancient peasant who cared for all the farm animals in the Talarin, with the exception of the horses. Grooms, specially selected by Green Mantle took care of both the Palace and Talarin stables. This meant that I was alone and in complete command of my task, except for the occasional nod from Old Noah when he passed, and it also gave me the chance to talk to the pigs. I had never tried to communicate with other creatures, except for the fox and the few I left behind in Brak, and at first the pigs were too surprised to respond. They were used to Old Noah tossing their food carelessly into their trough and leaving quickly. They did not know what to make of a bony child who wanted to chat with them and learn their names. It took many weeks before the pigs and I grew close enough for that. Names, I discovered, were highly protected in the animal world, except for the fox, who always claimed that he did not have a name and that “fox was sufficient.
The rest of the morning was taken up with learning conventional knowledge, in other words, school. We were all at different stages in both our normal and our Mantle education, which often caused confusion. Ruthen had taught me to read and write, but I had been given little chance to read anything of substance and my experience of gathering knowledge from books was minimal. Very often, we novices worked alone, on individual tasks set by our tutor, Silius Kahnis, a towering poplar tree of a man, whose movements were slow and as graceful as a dancer. He had the longest, thinnest, whitest fingers I have ever seen. He was not a Mantle but to my child’s mind he knew everything. He could name all the islands in the Pauvir Sea, he knew pages of poetry by heart and he could point to a flower or a bird and name it. When he wrote, the ink flowed onto the page and made perfect letters and when he played his harp, even the doves in the eves stopped their cooing to listen. His face was serious, but his pale blue eyes were always laughing, and I treasured my time with him. No Silius Kahnis was not a Mantle but to me he was just as magical.
After a light meal in the half-empty hall, we began our afternoon of magic and marvels with Black Mantle, or rather with the voice of Black Mantle. To begin with I found this rather strange and uncomfortable but after a while, I no longer noticed. He would instruct us in groups. Some were sent down to the river to practise controlling the elements of wind and water, as a preliminary exercise to controlling the weather. Others went to the library, seeking out incantations and potions for curing warts or driving away plagues of frogs. One or two would be sent into the town, to visit the sick or help the needy. Only the oldest and most experienced were allowed to do this. I usually found myself in a group learning to perfect our Listening. This included using the Tongue to speak to other creatures, listening to the wind and water to predict weather and gathering information by listening to others’ minds. To my delight, I found that I was quite good at most of these and was very soon ahead of the other students in my group.
We ate our final meal at sunset and then were allowed some time to ourselves. At first, I spent this time reading in my room and talking with the fox, who was still afraid to leave my bedroom except when necessary. Later I went for walks in the small garden, or down to the river, or into Vellin with the other novices. There was no specific time for bed. Whenever we returned, Black Mantle’s voice would greet us and wish us a good night.
Because we spent the afternoons together, my first friends were the others in the Listening group. There were two other girls, Betra, who was very serious and silent, and Leida, who was beautiful and spent a long time combing and arranging her long, yellow hair. The boys were Hodin, who was athletic, with skin the colour of leather, and nervous Quis, with his small thin body and brown rabbit eyes. I reached to their shoulders, like a dwarf. Black Mantle once told us that we were not an inspiring group and as I pictured us squinting up at the clouds, hoping to spot rain, I could understand his despair.
As the weeks sped along, my Listening skills began to equal or surpass those of most of the other students in the Talarin. Even Kerith was impressed by my ability to speak to the rats in her room. I begged them to choose somewhere else to hold their midnight meetings as Kerith was afraid of them and found it hard to sleep. Hodin was not so pleased because the rats selected his room instead and gnawed through his leather belts, leaving only buckles. Eventually, I persuaded the rats to leave the Talarin altogether and take up residence in the lower parts of the palace. I later wondered if the rats already in the palace objected to this invasion, but as no rat returned, I assumed that there was enough food for all of them.
I was beginning to feel that perhaps there was a place for me among the Mantles when I accidentally allowed my mind to tune in to another early morning discussion between members of the Souran.
‘Proud! There is no other word for it, except perhaps for ‘selfish’!’ The Deep Voice was almost shouting. ‘Nothing can be done until the pride is destroyed.’
‘She is a child. She’s bound to be proud of her accomplishments.’ Silver Mantle countered. ‘It’s natural.’
‘It is dangerous,’ Black Mantle said. ‘She is thoughtless. Why only yesterday she predicted the thunderstorm when it was Betra’s task to do so.’
‘How did Betra feel?’
Black Mantle replied, ’Angry and frustrated, which is also natural. She was just about to speak when the selfish child did it for her.’
‘Did Betra tell her how she felt?’
‘She shouldn’t need to,’ Black Mantle roared. ‘The child has been Listening for a month and she still doesn’t hear the most important things. She never even bothers to check other people’s minds before she does things.’
‘Did you speak to her about it?’ Silver Mantle asked quietly.
Black Mantle sighed. ‘I shouldn’t need to, Olemia, if she’s as talented as you say she is. It was you who told us the tender story about the fox and how she’d saved it from the hunting party. She’s your find. Why don’t you tell her?’
‘Are we agreed that the child is not suitable?’ Deep Voice asked quickly before Silver Mantle could speak. Other voices agreed with the despicable Deep Voice.
‘No, we are not agreed!’ Silver Mantle persisted and the power in her voice made me tremble. ‘We will give her more time. The child has the potential to be a great magus, a great leader, and we should all remember what happened when the last novice with such power was deemed unsuitable for Mantlehood.’ Her voice became honey and kindness. ‘At least why not wait until after Prince Ardin’s birthday party. Give her longer to prove herself. She is very young.’
There was silence but I could hear their inner thoughts and most of them were doubtful that I would ever be an asset to the Talarin. I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand, being careful not to think too strongly but feeling all the sadness in my heart. I had no idea how little I had really understood. Spotting rain was one thing but listening to the minds of those I cared about was another. I felt very selfish and very, very small. I might have gone on listening as Black Mantle listed my misdemeanours if I had not heard something else, something more frightening than even my impending banishment from the College.
A voice, but not words, was running its fingernails down my spine. It set my teeth on edge and made me grip the sides of my bed. The fox was cowering too. I broke into a sweat, feeling that the bed might open up and swallow me if I did not jump up. Jump I did. At the same time, my own voice screamed, and my mind called out to everyone who could hear it, to
take care, something terrible was about to happen. The earth was angry and soon, very soon, the anger would explode.
4.
Animal Senses
I had never felt an earthquake. All around buildings shook. Water leapt from the river and out of buckets. Animals howled and raced in all directions. Walls crumbled, balconies fell, and doors popped open. In Vellin, people fled their homes and stood shivering in the streets. In the Palace, the King was shaken from his bed and two servants disappeared into the ground as huge cracks split the great courtyard. In the Talarin, the Mantles waited in silence for the tremor to end, while terrified novices clung to their beds, stunned by the strange warning that had torn into their dreams.
Then the wailing began in the city. Like those about me, I dressed, ready to go out and help the injured but I was checked by Black Mantle’s voice. He was angry, incredulous. ‘I don’t believe it. It’s a coincidence. Not even Red Mantle knew.’
‘I did not,’ the Deep Voice admitted. ‘It was deep and sudden but perhaps the child has powers that are strong enough for that. Others among the Souran may have felt it if they were not here with their minds full of other thoughts. But perhaps she is so powerful that she caused the earthquake. She heard our discussion and she was angry. If that is possible, then I agree that she is too dangerous to stay.’ His voice became hushed. ‘And too dangerous for us to return to Brak. She must be destroyed.’
‘Oh no, please!’ I cried aloud. I could bear it no longer. ‘Listen to me, please. I felt the earthquake, but I didn’t make it. You must believe me. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want to help people. I will try harder to Listen and hear. I will. Please don’t send me back to Brak and please don’t kill me. Please.’ I was sobbing on the floor, clutching the fox for comfort and not caring who heard.
‘You see,’ Red Mantle was triumphant. ‘She can already intercept our thoughts, but I do believe her that she didn’t cause the earthquake.’
‘But I don’t want to hear what you think. Really, I don’t. You wake me up with your talk and then I can’t help it. I’m sorry that I was unkind to people and I will try to hear people better. I didn’t make the earthquake.’
‘I felt it too!’ barked the fox. ‘Lots of creatures do. She feels things like that because she feels as we do. I don’t see anything magical in that.’
There was silence. The fox and I looked at each other for a long time, but there was no reply to his comment. It was obvious that the Mantles were continuing their discussion, having
succeeded in blocking me out. I finished dressing and went down to breakfast wondering if it would be my last meal with the novices, indeed my last meal with anyone, if Red Mantle had his way.
I had very little appetite. No one else came to breakfast. Perhaps they were told not to join me. I wondered if they had gone out into the city to help. I wondered if I was supposed to go too. When I tried to leave the doors would not open. I had my answer. There was nothing left to do but sit and await my fate. I felt very sorry for myself and regretted the day I had gone up the hill to sit among the elder bushes. I regretted leaving Brak. I thought of Ruthen and Channa and felt the tears trickling down my face
As I waited alone in the cold dining hall, I listened for the noises of the Talarin. I could usually hear servants scolding each other in the kitchens, or the chatter of sparrows in the roof, but today there was nothing, silence. I could hear nothing beyond the confines of the room. I felt the urge to shout angrily that I could break such a silence if I chose, but I checked myself. It was just such behaviour that had so angered Black Mantle. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I was too hard to control. I shivered and wondered what the fox was doing. I tried to speak to him in my mind, but the bleak stone echoed the Tongue back to me. I folded my arms on the table and let my head rest there, wishing only for peace of mind and to know my fate.
The next thing I knew was the touch of her hand on my hair. I had no idea how long she had been there or if she had spoken. From the tingling in my arms and the fuzziness of my sight, I suspected that I had been in that position for a long time. I blinked until her face became clear. She was sitting on the bench beside me and smiling.
‘Am I to leave the Talarin?’ I whispered.
'Shush!’ She stroked my hair. ‘Let the anger and fear leave you before we talk.’
‘The earthquake,’ I remembered. ‘The people…’
She dismissed it with, ‘Everything is being done,’ and I knew better than to persist, so I waited for her to speak. Instead, she stood and walked to the window. She looked back at me. ‘A Mantle must learn from the moment of waking to the moment of death. A Mantle must never let the power rule them.’ These were the very first lessons we took with Black Mantle, the rules that governed the lives of the college from the novices to the mighty Souran.
She addressed her words to the world beyond the window. ‘When you wake, recite the laws to yourself. Before you sleep, consider your day and if you have broken any of them, take note and do better the following day.’ She looked back at me. ‘I have broken at least one every day since I became Silver Mantle.’
I joined her at the window. ‘If you can’t keep them, how can anyone expect me to keep them?’
She lifted her head laughing, her beautiful dark hair cascading down to her waist, ‘Because we are all trying to become better, more thoughtful, nearer to perfect in the ways we use our powers.’
I had no argument with that, so I looked out of the window with her. Vellin spread below us. The people appeared to be no bigger than ants until suddenly I could see everything as if I was down there. I was not sure if I or Silver Mantle, had made the magic. That was to be often the case with our intertwining moments. Things happened and neither of us needed to know the maker.
I saw the King. He was kneeling beside a small girl whose head was bleeding. He held her hand, brushing the dust from her hair as a novice bound her arm. As we watched, I felt the powerful emotions in Silver Mantle. They overwhelmed me and I took her hand. Her sad eyes caught mine, but she said nothing, the King was moving on, speaking to the injured, lifting pieces of broken walls to free the trapped and giving comfort to everyone he met.
‘He is a good king,' I said innocently.
She stiffened, some unexpected pain stinging her eyes. ‘It is a Silver Mantle’s duty to serve the King. I watch his life and protect him when I can.' She made a slight movement with her hand and a wall toppled safely away from the King’s path. I looked at her in amazement, wondering how many times she had saved his life without his knowledge. Her head lifted but she said nothing. We watched him stepping over broken iron to comfort an old woman. He would never know of the crumbling wall, its dust settling safely away from his person. I was impressed by her power, and also by the subtle ways she chose to use it. Then I realised why she had shown me this.
‘I could never control my power like that,’ I sighed.
‘You must!' her voice was sharp, ‘or risk the consequences. There are many in the Souran who fear your power. It will only get stronger and you must learn to use it wisely, now. For the other novices, there will be time to grow into their powers, but you are different. Your power is already upon you. Your path will not be the same as theirs. You alone felt the earthquake before it arrived. You felt its coming. Would you be surprised to know that no-one else could feel that?’
‘The fox did,’ I said lamely, ‘and some of the other animals.’
‘No one within these walls did, no human, no powerful Mantle, not even Red Mantle.' She knelt before me, gripping my arms, our eyes meeting. ‘One day, Megwin, your powers will be needed to defend the King or to stop a great disaster. That is the ancient knowledge of the Souran. We know that the power is given only when it is needed, and your power is great indeed. You must forget everything else and devote your life to taming and using your gifts with wisdom. I will help you all I can, but I cannot foretell your destiny. Black Mantle has agreed to keep you here and to spend more time in your instru
ction. Each evening, you will spend time with him practising your skills and learning the nature of the power you possess.’ She stood, looking back down at the King. ‘I must go now but I will visit you often. I have neglected you, but I promise not to leave you alone again.’ With that, Silver Mantle swept from the hall, taking her power and the warmth with her.
Once more, the imposed silence of the Talarin returned. I went back to the window, but the King had moved on. I heard the clatter of pans from below me in the kitchens and decided to try the door. This time it opened, and I fled, back to my room.
‘I can’t let you out for a minute but you’re getting into trouble!’ the fox barked from his nest among my pillows. He was using all the force he could to make pain in my temples. He looked gratified when I winced.
‘Silence, fox. I have learnt a lot today and I don’t need you to make it worse. You’re my friend, you should be sympathetic.’ I sat on the bed and buried my head in my hands. When he saw my misery, he came and began licking me with his course tongue. We curled together and I slept until it was evening, and the lamps were being lit. No one called me to supper, and I had no appetite, so I slithered deeper into my bed and remained there until the sun was well risen. I knew the pigs would be waiting for me as I raced over to the sty.