Natural Ordermage

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Jienela,” snapped Jaired. “She’s going to be your consort, one way or another.”

  Rahl smiled easily. “I’m sorry. Why would I do that? I’m but an apprentice scrivener.” -

  “Because you’re the one who got her with child.”

  How could that be? Jienela? Rahl hadn’t sensed that she was… anywhere near that time, but Jaired bore an air of complete conviction.

  “Are you so sure of that?” Rahl didn’t want to say he hadn’t slept with her.

  “Who else could it be? You’re the only one she’s been looking at or walking with,” retorted Jaired.

  “That’s what you’ve seen. Maybe we haven done anything more than that. Walking with a girl doesn’t get her with child.”

  Jaired flushed. Then his face hardened. “You’ll not be slandering my sister. She’d not be doing what she shouldn’t.”

  Rahl refrained from pointing out that Jienela couldn’t be carrying a child without having done something Jaired felt she shouldn’t have been doing. “And I suppose that was true of you and Coerlyne?”

  “You leave her out of this!”

  Rahl was between the copying table and the back stone wall of the workroom, and still without any weapon. “You’ve come in, here and accused me of something without even letting me say a word. Don’t you think I should be able to say something?”

  “I’m not for talking. It’s what you do to make things right that counts.”

  “Let’s talk about what you want me to do.”

  “You ask Da for her hand. There’s nothing else to talk about.”

  “Then what?” asked Rahl. “After that, I mean.”

  “You become consorts. That’s what.”

  “And will your da pay Jienela a stipend?”

  “A what?” A momentary look of confusion crossed the young grower’s face.

  “Coins. Apprentice scriveners don’t make that much. My father barely brings in enough coins for himself and my mother.”

  “You shoulda thought a‘ that. That’s your problem, Rahl.”

  “If… if I did what you say, it is,” admitted Rahl. “But… if you insist on our becoming consorted, it becomes Jienela’s problem as well. Do you really want your sister not to have enough to eat? Or not enough warm clothes come winter?”

  “You shoulda thought a‘ that,” repeated Jaired.

  Rahl was getting tired of that phrase, but he was in no position to object strenuously. Not yet.

  “If… as I said, I did what you think, I should have. But if I didn’t, why would I?”

  “You did it. I know you did.”

  “Oh… and I suppose Jienela told you?” Rahl’s voice was gentry scornful.

  “Jienela’s protecting you, but you’d not be deserving that.” Jaired raised the truncheon.

  “But she is.”

  Jaired stopped.

  “If… if I did it, then you don’t want to injure me because how would I support your sister? If I didn’t do it, you shouldn’t injure me because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You twist words worse than a magister,” growled Jaired.

  “I’m only pointing out that trying to beat me with that truncheon won’t do anyone any good. Neither will coming in here and yelling at me and telling me I have to do something that I never promised to do and that my parents are against.” Rahl moved away from the copying table and toward the narrow heavy frame Kian used to stretch leather for binding. There was a long knife in a battered sheath fastened to one side of the frame, the side shielded from the young grower.

  Rahl had never liked using the knife; it bothered him almost as much as the gelding knife Shahyla had showed him. But Jaired didn’t have to know that.

  Jaired frowned. “You think you’re so smart.”

  “Everyone’s smart at different things,” Rahl said, taking another step toward the frame. He extended a hand as if to straighten the frame, then let his hand drop to the knife hilt, grasping it and sliding it out.

  Jaired looked at the long knife and at Rahl.

  Rahl smiled.

  “You’d better think about what you’re doing,” the grower said. “Just because your da’s a scrivener, you can’t get away with hurting my sister. You’ll see.”

  “I certainly didn’t force your sister to do anything,” Rahl said. “I don’t like being blamed and threatened for what she wanted to do. I never promised anything.” He took a .step forward, holding the knife low. The afternoon light coming .through the windows glinted on the polished dark iron.

  Rahl could sense the other’s fear. In a strange way, that amused him, how Jaired had been so sure of himself when he’d thought he’d had the only weapon and the upper hand. Was confidence all about who believed himself to have more power?

  “You can’t do that to her,” Jaired said.

  “I’m not doing anything to anyone,” Rahl said. “I’m just saying that you can’t force what you want on me.” He took another step forward.

  “This isn’t over,” blustered Jaired.

  “I tell you what,” Rahl said quietly. “You just get out of here, and you think about things over the end-day, and so will.” -

  “You better think hard, scrivener. You’d better.” Jaired backed up to the half-open door, then turned and left, hurriedly, but not quite at a run.

  As soon as he was certain Jaired was well away from the house and workroom, Rahl replaced the binding knife with a shudder of relief. Then he quickly hurried to his sleeping chamber. There he reclaimed his truncheon before returning to the workroom. He laid it on the side of the copy table.

  Should he tell his father and mother? He might as well—or at least suggest part of the problem. They’d find out before long and not necessarily in the way least unfavorable to Rahl. But… when… that was the question…and how much?

  He didn’t know how much time had passed, but it wasn’t long before the .workroom door opened and Khorlya peered in. “I was coming up the road, .and I saw someone leaving

  “That was Jienela’s brother Jaired.”

  “What would he have been wanting?”

  “To know if I intended to ask for Jienela’s hand. I don’t know where he got that idea.”

  “It might have been that you spent more than a little time in the orchard with her.”

  “I never said anything about consorting her, and I said so. He wasn’t happy when I told him that. He threatened me with a truncheon.” ! “He’s concerned about his sister.”

  “That doesn’t give him the right to barge in here and demand I consort with her.”

  “Rahl… I told you that you shouldn’t see her.”

  “I stopped seeing her—eightdays ago. Jaired didn’t like that, either.”

  “He always has been a hothead, but—”

  “From what I’ve heard, he’s always been hot elsewhere.”

  “Rahl!”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  “She’s a year older than I am,” Rahl pointed out.

  “You’re not answering the question.”

  “I did… once.” That was partly true. He had slept with her once, then several times more. “She surprised me.” That was totally true, not that he’d been displeased:

  “Rahl…” His mother shook her head. “This could make things very difficult.”

  “You know that when you told me not to see her anymore, I didn’t. And I didn’t promise anything.”

  “Sometimes, actions are promises,” Khorlya said tiredly. “What you do is more important than what you’ve said.”

  Rahl could feel himself getting both angry and irritated. “She was the one who started things, and now Jaired and you are both blaming me. I wouldn’t have done anything if she hadn’t been the way she was… and I didn’t let it last very long.”

  “Rahl… what’s done is done. Who was more to blame isn’t the question.”

  Rahl disagreed with that—violently—but there wasn’t any p
oint in saying so. The idea that he might have to consort Jienela because she’d been the one who wanted to sleep with him was wrong. He’d even tried to make sure that she didn’t end up with child. And now, his mother, his own mother, was telling him that he might have to consort a girl she’d not wanted him to consort.

  “Your father should be here in a moment. I thought I saw him heading up from the harbor. He’s not going to be pleased.”

  That was an understatement, Rahl knew, and he‘ certainly didn’t want to talk to his father about Jaired and Jienela, but there was no help for that.

  Within a few moments, Kian stepped into the workroom. His eyes went from Khorlya to Rahl and back to his consort. “What’s the matter?”

  Khorlya shook her head. “Jienela’s brother was here. He wants Rahl to consort Jienela because he slept with her.”

  Kian looked at Rahl.

  Rahl could feel the combination of anger and sadness. There wasn’t much to say. “She took me by surprise. It was her idea, and after that I broke it off as quick as I could.”

  “That doesn’t help much.” Kian’s words were hard and condemnatory.

  “Ser… I didn’t know much about women…”

  “You were told. You were warned.” Kian’s voice increased in volume. “All you had to do was keep your trousers on and call on Bradeon’s daughter. But no, first you play in the orchard and then you start visiting the chandlery. You don’t think I didn’t hear about that, too.”

  “I never even kissed Fahla,” Rahl retorted, “and I did what you wanted.”

  “It was a little late for that,” Kian said sourly. “You may have made your future far harder than it ever had to be. You might even have to consort a girl who has nothing and never will.”

  “Why?” asked Rahl. “She was the one who encouraged me.”

  “You let her. It takes two, as you should have discovered,” replied Kian sadly. “But she—”

  “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand? If someone tells you to hit someone with your truncheon and steal his wallet, does that make it all right?”

  “No… but I didn’t hurt anyone, and I didn’t steal. If anything, she’s trying to steal what I might do.”

  “Most people won’t see it that way, not in Reduce. All you had to do was to say no.”

  All he had to do? When she’d been taking his clothes off and kissing him?

  “Your mother and I will talk it over, and then we’ll see what can be done. We might be able to get one of the magisters to look into it. There are precedents… but I wouldn’t count on that.”

  “What about tomorrow?” asked Rahl. “I was supposed to call on Shahyla.”

  “Yes, you were, but this…” Kian frowned. “Have you told anyone else?”

  “No, ser. Jaired was just here.”

  The scrivener nodded. “We still might have a chance…” He. looked at Khorlya.

  She said nothing.

  “If you can keep your trousers on and promise Shahyla nothing,” replied Kian, “then a simple visit can’t make matters any worse than you have. Or has she encouraged you as well?”

  Rahl flushed. “No. Nothing like that.” He could feel that his mother didn’t agree with his father about visiting Shahyla, but she said nothing.

  “You can finish the page you were copying before supper. Your mother and I have some talking to do. And you aren’t going out tonight, not anywhere.”

  Rahl had already figured that out, and right now he didn’t need to do anything else to get them even more upset.

  XI

  On eightday morning, Rahl was careful to say nothing that was not deferential and polite, and he was scrupulous about doing his. chores and straightening and cleaning the workroom. Only when he was certain that he had done everything required did he wash up and prepare for the long walk to Bradeon’s holding to see Shahyla.

  As Rahl was preparing to leave, his mother appeared with a plain basket, containing two bundles—one of brinn and one of sage.

  “Herders can always use brinn and sage, and Bradeon’s a practical man.” Khorlya looked at Rahl. “Your father and I don’t agree about this, but it may be that you won’t have to consort Jienela. I don’t see how we can avoid that, but… he thinks he may be able to work something put. Don’t promise anything to Shahyla today, and don’t say anything about Jienela. And for darkness’ sake, don’t make matters worse. Keep all your clothes on.”

  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.”