by Jo Walton
The one theological difference could be seen on the doors. As in most churches, the walls were covered with the carved intertwined and writhing forms of the gods. Jurale’s great dark eyes whirled sympathetic understanding from all the walls, Veld’s pictured face was wise and stern, the world lay clutched safely between his claws. They were immediately recognizable as themselves. There were no pictures of Camran, except those on the doors. These representations would have made most dragons blink, and some run screaming heresy. Camran was pictured on the left bringing the Book of the Law, and on the right as walking up to the Cave of Azashan, as he might be anywhere, but the artist in this church had depicted him as a Yarge, soft, wingless, and unarmed.
A parson, if any had dared enter this church, might not have been so surprised. There were old books that showed Camran this way. Penn, for instance, had been taught at the Circle that this was an old symbolic way of showing Camran’s peaceful nature and humility, much like the way Avenging Veld could be shown as the harsh noon-day sun and Jurale as a sheltering mountain. But the Old Believers, and Sebeth with them, did not see it as a symbol, like the red cords that bound the wings of priest or parson, they really did believe that Camran had been a Yarge.
After the service, Sebeth waited before the doors, praying patiently, until it was her turn to confess. The priest, who called himself Blessed Calien, absolved her, as always, of living with Avan without the sacrament of marriage, and on this occasion of coveting Avan’s gold and reproaching him for starting his lawsuit, all the details of which she told Calien when he inquired. Then, with a little more hesitation, he forgave her for having enjoyed seeing the two dragons fighting over her that afternoon. “It may be our nature, but Camran taught us that we can overcome our nature and surpass it. May you with Veld’s grace do better if such temptation comes your way again. Is that all?”
“There is one more thing, Blessed One,” she said. “It isn’t a sin of mine, and indeed telling you may be a sin, for Liralen said it was tolerably confidential. But Avan has been given a certain folder concerning building rights in the Skamble, and I wondered if it was best to warn you about it.”
“You did right, little sister,” Calien said. “Tell me all that you discover of this affair as it passes through your hands. The lesser sin of betraying your employers will be offset by the great help you do to the nurturing egg of the Church.”
“Yes, Blessed One,” Sebeth said, obediently.
Then the priest set his claws against her eyes as she sat perfectly still. “I have heard your confession, Sister Sebeth, and I absolve and forgive you in the name of Camran, in the name of Jurale, and in the name of Veld.”
7
The Dinner Party
25. THE EXALT APPROVES AMER
It was the fifth day of the month of Leafturn, the day Exalt Benandi had fixed for her little dinner party to welcome back Penn to Benandi and inspect his sister and his nanny. According to her arrangements, Penn brought Amer up the Parson’s Passage for inspection in Exalt Benandi’s office, a little while before the time appointed for the dinner. The Exalt was in a good mood. She had heard from her friend Blest Telstie that her daughter Gelener would arrive in the afternoon of the seventh, in two days time. Accordingly she smiled at Penn when he went in first alone, leaving Amer to wait in the corridor, and while she reproached him for his extravagance in the matter of the carriage, she did so benignly. “A parson has a position in the world, but you are entirely dependent on your living, you have a comfortable establishment and a sufficiency, not enough for frivolity,” she finished.
“You are right, Exalt, I shall be more careful another time,” Penn said. He was rested now, and being at home, having had Felin’s undivided attention and seeing Selendra behaving very well for the whole span of a night and day, had conspired to make him much more relaxed.
“My condolences on the loss of your good father, too,” the Exalt said, a little aware that she had been tardy in saying so.
“He died in the arms of Camran,” Penn said, and the conventional words stung him a little as he spoke them, reminding him of his father’s confession.
“Then let me be introduced to your old nanny,” the Exalt said. “You need not stay, go and find the youngsters. They will doubtless be amusing themselves on the ledge or in the Little Talking Room.”
Penn beckoned Amer to come inside. Amer had asked Selendra to bind her wings back severely for this interview. She had not wanted to ask Felin lest her new mistress should decide not to loosen them later. Amer did not fear having her wings tied, but she preferred her accustomed measure of freedom and comfort. Nevertheless, she knew that for this interview her bindings must be as tight as they could be. She was not at all afraid of Felin, not when she had Penn and Selendra to defend her, but she knew Penn was afraid of the Exalt, who was the real mistress here. When Penn beckoned she bowed her head, drew in her breath, and went in.
What Exalt Benandi saw seemed in all ways satisfactory. Amer was clearly an elderly dragon, set in her ways, not at all what she would have chosen for Felin’s household. But they had inherited her, and must make the best of her. At least she was small, her wings were well bound, and she seemed properly subservient. She bowed so that her head touched the floor while Penn introduced her, and even when she looked up she kept her eyes lowered.
“How long did you serve at Agornin?” the Exalt asked, waving Penn away impatiently. He bowed and left, not without a little trepidation. He had told Amer to be careful to behave herself, but he knew how she had been accustomed to speak her mind to her betters.
“Since the Dignified Agornin married my mistress, who was then the Respected Fidrak, Exalt,” Amer said.
Exalt Benandi had discovered the Fidrak connection when she had researched Penn’s heritage before deciding to offer him the living as her parson. It had helped incline her towards him. She smiled now, as graciously as she could. “And how long had you served the Fidraks before that?”
“All my life, Exalt, my mother was stillroom attendant to old Exalt Fidrak and my father was a door-opener in the establishment. His parents and their parents back since before the Conquest had been servants on the Fidrak estate.”
“A commendable ancestry,” Exalt Benandi said, genuinely pleased. “And how old are you?”
“Old enough to have years of hard work left to me, Exalt,” Amer said.
This was a good answer, as Amer did not look feeble, but the Exalt frowned at the levity of it. “How old exactly?” she demanded.
“Four hundred and seven years, Exalt,” Amer said, deciding the Exalt would not notice if she were to forget fifty years.
This seemed to satisfy her, at least she did not probe further in that direction. “In what capacity have you served the Fidraks and the Agornins?”
“First as a kitchen attendant, then as Respected Fidrak’s attendant, and then when she married and became Dignity Agornin, still as her attendant but mostly as nanny to her hatchlings. As they grew, after my mistress’s death, and as Dignified Agornin grew older, I came to be more in the kitchens again.”
“You understand that Benandi Parsonage is a small establishment?” the Exalt asked, looking at her closely. “They have no room for luxuries and extravagances, though they live the lives of gently born dragons. Why did you wish to come here?”
“I have served the Agornins for so long, I did not wish to go into a different family,” Amer said, keeping her eyes lowered as best she could so that the Exalt could see no spark of resentment or defiance.
“So it was your choice? Not that of your betters?” The Exalt leaped on the admission as if it were a wild swine whose neck she wanted to break.
“I could have stayed with the Daveraks,” Amer admitted.
“The Daveraks were taking over Agornin, you could have stayed with them and been with the family you have served so long, yet you chose not to.”
“That’s a different family, for all that Exalt Daverak married the Respected Berend Agornin,
” Amer said, thinking she was on safe ground. “I knew that Blessed Penn had true Agornin hatchlings, and I wished to serve them if I could.”
“It has always been my belief that hatchlings are best served by young nannies,” the Exalt said, severely.
“Why?” Amer asked, although she could have bitten her tongue the moment the word was out.
Exalt Benandi sat in silence contemplating her for a moment. She never allowed familiarity in servants, and this looked very much like insubordination. Fortunately, the Exalt was in a mellow mood, and Amer had made a fairly good impression until now. She had not questioned an order, merely asked for clarification, the Exalt decided. “Because it is better for the young to be served by the young,” she said.
Amer made no reply, though she longed to denounce this view as the nonsense it was. “In that case I shall help in the kitchens as best I can, or serve ’Spec Selendra,” she said.
The Exalt looked on Amer now with dislike. “As I said, Benandi Parsonage is a small establishment. The Respected Agornin can expect to keep no personal attendant.”
“No, Exalt,” Amer said, woodenly.
“Surely she does not expect that?” the Exalt asked.
“No, Exalt,” Amer repeated, remembering how Selendra had laughed at the idea and wishing they were all back in Agornin in the last happy years.
“I do hope she isn’t a foolish maiden with her heart set on high fashion?”
“No, Exalt,” Amer said again, lowering herself as if she would sink through the hard stone of the floor.
The Exalt sighed. “Go back to your duties. I will keep inquiring if they have been done to Felin’s satisfaction, and if they are not I shall make my displeasure known.”
“Yes, Exalt,” Amer said, and backed carefully out of the room. As soon as she was far enough down the passage that she was sure the Exalt would not hear her, she gave a sigh of relief and eased her wings as far as she could in their tight bindings. She wondered if Daverak, even with the threat of being eaten against her will, might not have been better after all.
26. FIRSTDAY AT BENANDI
Selendra felt altogether overawed at the splendor of Benandi Place. That first evening she did nothing but sit quietly and eat as politely as she could. She answered questions in a murmur almost too quiet to be heard. Sher was forgiving when he did not hear her, recognizing shyness and unhappiness, but his mother often asked her to repeat what she had said. Despite this, Exalt Benandi was more pleased than she had expected to be with Penn’s sister. She had been afraid Selendra would put on airs and expect more than her position would naturally provide. Instead she found her almost too retiring.
The next morning, which was Firstday, the whole Benandi household attended church together. Exalt Benandi and Sher took the whole right side of the church, Felin and Selendra stood on the left, and though there was plenty of room beside them the servants were left to mingle with the villagers in the front and back of the church. Penn stood in the narthex and conducted the service. He preached a good sermon, which he had largely composed in the train, about Jurale’s nurturing mother qualities, in which he managed to compliment the Exalt twice and Felin once. On the way out of the church, while the Exalt was catechizing one of the farmers about the absence of his daughter and Felin was helping Penn out of his ceremonial headgear, Sher took the opportunity to linger by Selendra for a word.
“I just realized I hadn’t said to you how sorry I was to hear about your father’s death. You may not remember me at all from when I visited Agornin, but I was there long enough to grow to thoroughly like your father. Bon was a wonderful dragon, such a marvellous storyteller, real rock of the mountains. I wish I knew more dragons like him. The world seems smaller without him.”
To her embarrassment, Selendra felt her eyes filling with tears when she heard this. Nobody had spoken to her about Bon beyond conventional pieties since she had left Haner, and now hearing him recalled brought him back almost too vividly. “Thank you,” she said, and knew she had revealed her tears in her voice.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Sher said, very gently.
“I know,” she said, and managed to look at him. “You’ll think I am very foolish, only I do miss my father very much, and you recalled him to me so clearly.”
“Then I am not sorry at all, for it is right that we remember Bon as much as we can.”
Selendra managed to smile at that, an approved ladylike smile with her mouth closed.
“Are you finding everything very strange here?” Sher asked.
“Yes,” Selendra admitted. “But it’s also very beautiful country, what I’ve seen of it.”
“I haven’t forgotten Felin and I promised to take you flying. Not today, perhaps, but soon.”
“I think better not today, all things considered,” she said, and smiled. The party had walked to the church, and would walk back. Firstday flight was not something the Exalt approved. “It’s good to have such a beautiful church,” she went on.
“It’s very old, I believe,” Sher said, glancing back at the church building which was almost too familiar for him to be able to see it clearly. “It’s one of the oldest in the whole northwest of Tiamath. I’ve been coming here since I was a dragonet.”
“Such lovely carvings,” Selendra said.
“When I was a dragonet I used to imagine climbing into the walls and going to help Camran against Azashan, in that panel up there,” Sher said, remembering, and pointing it out.
“Oh yes,” Selendra said, seeing at once. “You could have climbed up those sun-rays there!”
“Yes, that’s exactly how I used to think I’d do it,” Sher said, smiling at the memory.
“Azashan’s carved as such a fright there,” Selendra said. “I’m sure he’d have given me nightmares if I’d come here as a child. But no, I suppose not, because Camran’s so strong against him.”
As the Exalt and Penn joined them they were harmlessly discussing the beauty of the representation of Veld on the left wall.
Later that afternoon, Felin came up to bring the Exalt a few pots of the preserved looseberries she and Amer had been preparing. As it was Firstday, she had walked up instead of flying.
“How are you finding her?” the Exalt asked, when they had made their greetings and this had been explained.
“She’s definitely very deft in the kitchen. I’m quite happy with the nanny you found me, but I think I can use Amer to get more preserving done. You know how one tires of nothing but meat in the winter months. Last year I barely put up any looseberries because I had to watch the servants every minute when they were doing it. I believe Amer knows the work well enough to trust her with it.” Felin was already beginning to be glad Penn had insisted on bringing Amer back with him.
“She hasn’t shown any sign of wanting to fuss over Selendra?” the Exalt asked, suspiciously.
“Not so far,” Felin said.
“Then you just haven’t caught her at it,” the Exalt said. “She as good as admitted that she chose to come, and that’s why. You keep her in the kitchen and keep a firm grip on her.”
“I certainly shall,” Felin said. “But I don’t think Selendra would want her to be a personal attendant. I think Selendra’s very sweet. The children adore her already.”
“Dragonets will give their affection to any young person who spends time with them,” the Exalt replied.
“She’s a pretty thing, too,” Felin went on.
“Too quiet and shy to be a beauty, and a little pale for it as well,” the Exalt dismissed her. “Harmless enough. We’ll have to watch out for eligible male dragons of her rank who won’t mind her being so retiring. What’s her dowry, Felin?”
“Sixteen thousand, I believe,” Felin said, for so Selendra had told her, in accordance with her agreement with Haner.
“Better than I would have expected,” the Exalt sniffed. “I thought old Bon had all but bankrupted himself selling the elder daughter to Daverak. Still, all to the good. A pale qu
iet thing like Selendra will go over well enough with sixteen thousand, to some parson or even some Dignified’s son.”
“It’s too soon to be thinking of that yet,” Felin said. “She’s hardly over the shock of her father’s death yet.”
“Is the maiden in deep mourning?”
“Well, as it’s only a week since her father’s death, I wouldn’t suggest taking her to any balls,” Felin said, a little more sharply than she usually answered the Exalt.
“I was just intending to give a formal dinner party tomorrow night. Some friends of mine will be here.” The Exalt smiled in a very self-satisfied way. “The Blest Telstie, who you have met, and her daughter the Respected Gelener Telstie, who I don’t believe you know. She left school two years ago and I only met her when we were in Irieth for the season.”
“I’ll be delighted to make her acquaintance,” said Felin, who immediately saw through her friend’s scheme. Poor Sher, she thought, caught like a swine between rocks and served up to the maiden on a dish with a jar of looseberry preserve poured over him.
“But is Selendra to be considered in too deep mourning for a formal evening party? She is certainly old enough, and I have no complaint about her behavior, having seen her in our family dinner last night, except that she will need to speak up a bit if she is ever to make a mark in society.”
Felin thought about it. Selendra had been generally quiet with her, too, though she had seemed to enjoy playing with the dragonets. “I think it would do her good to do more things and leave the parsonage a little more,” she said. “She shouldn’t brood on her grief.”
“I’m not thinking about doing her good,” the Exalt said, drawing back a little. “I’m wondering about the propriety of the thing.”
“Well, were you intending to ask Penn?” Felin asked.
“Oh certainly, I can’t manage without Penn, he’s the only other male I have, and we’re thin enough on males in any case. Besides, they’re an ecclesiastical family. They would think it very odd if Penn were not there.” It was an accepted part of Penn’s duties as parson of Benandi that he would dine with the Exalt whenever she needed an extra dragon in her Dining Room.