Coming of Age in Karhide

by Ursula K. Le Guin

  garden and came up near them, moving so quietly, though he was a big man, thatthey in their absorption did not hear him. The thing that was hopping up anddown on the grass between their bare toes was a rock. When Diamond raised hishand the rock jumped up in the air, and when he shook his hand a little therock hovered in the air, and when he flipped his fingers downward it fell toearth. "Now you," Diamond said to Rose, and she started to do what he haddone, but the rock only twitched a little. "Oh," she whispered, "there's yourdad." "That's very clever," Golden said. "Di thought it up," Rosesaid. Golden did not like the child. She was both outspoken and defensive, both rash and timid. She was a girl, and a year younger than Diamond, and awitch's daughter. He wished his son would play with boys his own age, his ownsort, from the respectable families of Glade. Tuly insisted on calling thewitch "the wisewoman," but a witch was a witch and her daughter was no fitcompanion for Diamond. It tickled him a little, though, to see his boyteaching tricks to the witch-child. "What else can you do, Diamond?" heasked. "Play the flute," Diamond said promptly, and took out of his pocketthe little fife his mother had given him for his twelfth birthday. He put itto his lips, his fingers danced, and he played a sweet, familiar tune from thewestern coast, "Where My Love Is Going." "Very nice,' said the father. "Butanybody can play the fife, you know." Diamond glanced at Rose. The girlturned her head away, looking down. "I learned it really quickly," Diamondsaid. Golden grunted, unimpressed. "It can do it by itself," Diamond said, and held out the fife away from his lips. His fingers danced on the stops, andthe fife played a short jig. It hit several false notes and squealed on thelast high note. "I haven't got it right yet," Diamond said, vexed andembarrassed. "Pretty good, pretty good," his father said. "Keep practicing." And he went on. He was not sure what he ought to have said. He did not want toencourage the boy to spend any more time on music, or with this girl; he spenttoo much already, and neither of them would help him get anywhere in life. Butthis gift, this undeniable gift t the rock hovering, the unblown fife -- Well, it would be wrong to make too much of it, but probably it should not bediscouraged. In Golden's understanding, money was power, but not the onlypower. There were two others, one equal, one greater. There was birth. Whenthe Lord of the Western Land came to his domain near Glade, Golden was glad toshow him fealty. The Lord was born to govern and to keep the peace, as Goldenwas born to deal with commerce and wealth, each in his place; and each, nobleor common, if he served well and honestly, deserved honor and respect. Butthere were also lesser lords whom Golden could buy and sell, lend to or letbeg, men born noble who deserved neither fealty nor honor. Power of birth andpower of money were contingent, and must be earned lest they be lost. But beyond the rich and the lordly were those called the Men of Power: the wizards. Their power, though little exercised, was absolute. In their hands lay the fate of the long-kingless kingdom of the Archipelago. If Diamond had been born to that kind of power, if that was his gift, thenall Golden's dreams and plans of training him in the business, and having himhelp in expanding the carting route to a regular trade with South Port, andbuying up the chestnut forests above Reche -- all such plans dwindled intotrifles. Might Diamond go (as his mother's uncle had gone) to the School ofWizards on Roke Island? Might he (as that uncle had done) gain glory for hisfamily and dominion over lord and commoner, becoming a Mage in the Court ofthe Lords Regent in the Great Port of Havnor? Golden all but floated up thestairs himself, borne on such visions. But he said nothing to the boy andnothing to the boy's mother. He was a consciously close-mouthed man, distrustful of visions until they could be made acts; and she, though adutiful, loving wife and mother and housekeeper, already made too much ofDiamond's talents and accomplishments. Also, like all women, she was inclinedto babble and gossip, and indiscriminate in her friendships. The girl Rosehung about with Diamond because Tuly encouraged Rose's mother the witch tovisit, consulting her every time Diamond had a hangnail, and telling her morethan she or anyone ought to know about Golden's household. His business was

  none of the witch's business. On the other hand, Tangle might be able to tellhim if his son in fact showed promise, had a talent for magery...buthe flinched away from the thought of asking her, asking a witch's opinionon anything, least of all a judgment on his son. He resolved to wait and watch. Being a patient man with a strong will, he did so for four years, tillDiamond was sixteen. A big, well-grown youth, good at games and lessons, hewas 'still ruddy-faced and bright-eyed and cheerful. He had taken it hard whenhis voice changed, the sweet treble going all untuned and hoarse. Golden hadhoped that that was the end of his singing, but the boy went on wanderingabout with itinerant musicians, ballad-singers and such, learning all theirtrash. That was no life for a merchant's son who was to inherit and manage hisfather's properties and mills and business, and Golden told him so. "Singingtime is over, son," he said. "You must think about being a man." Diamond had been given his truename at the springs of the Amia in the hills above Glade. The wizard Hemlock, who had known his great-uncle the Mage, came up from SouthPort to name him. And Hemlock was invited to his nameday party the year after, a big party, beer and food for all, and new clothes, a shirt or skirt or shiftfor every child, which was an old custom in the West of Havnor, and dancing onthe village green in the warm autumn evening. Diamond had many friends, allthe boys his age in town and all the girls too. The young people danced, andsome of them had a bit too much beer, but nobody misbehaved very badly, and itwas a merry and memorable night. The next morning Golden told his son againthat he must think about being a man. "I have thought some about it," saidthe boy, in his husky voice. "And?" "Well, I," said Diamond, andstuck. "I'd always counted on your going into the family business," Goldensaid. His tone was neutral, and Diamond said nothing. "Have you had any ideasof what you want to do?" "Sometimes." "Did you talk at all to MasterHemlock?" Diamond hesitated and said, "No." He looked a question at hisfather. "I talked to him last night," Golden said. "He said to me that thereare certain natural gifts which it's not only difficult but actually wrong, harmful, to suppress." The light had come back into Diamond's dark eyes. "The Master said that such gifts or capacities, untrained, are not onlywasted, but may be dangerous. The art must be learned, and practiced, hesaid." Diamond's face shone. "But, he said, it must be learned and practicedfor its own sake." Diamond nodded eagerly. "If it's a real gift, an unusualcapacity, that's even more true. A witch with her love potions can't do muchharm, but even a village sorcerer, he said, must take care, for if the art isused for base ends, it becomes weak and noxious .... Of course, even asorcerer gets paid. And wizards, as you know, live with lords, and have whatthey wish." Diamond was listening intently, frowning a little. "So, to beblunt about it, if you have this gift, Diamond, it's of no use, directly, toour business. It has to be cultivated on its own terms, and kept under control-- learned and mastered. Only then, he said, can your teachers begin to tellyou what to do with it, what good it will do you. Or others," he addedconscientiously. There was a long pause. "I told him," Golden said, "that Ihad seen you, with a turn of your hand and a single word, change a woodencarving of a bird into a bird that flew up and sang. Pre seen you make a lightglow in thin air. You didn't know I was watching. I've watched and saidnothing for a long time. I didn't want to make too much of mere childish play. But I believe you have a gift, perhaps a great gift. When I told MasterHemlock what I'd seen you do, he agreed with me. He said that you may go studywith him in South Port for a year, or perhaps longer." "Study with MasterHemlock?" said Diamond, his voice up half an octave. "If you wish." "I, I, Inever thought about it. Can I think about it? For a while-- a day?" "Of course," Golden said, pleased with his son's caution. He had thoughtDiamond might leap at the offer, which would have been natural, perhaps, butpainful to the father, the owl who had -- perhaps -hatched out an eagle. For Golden looked on the Art Magic with genuine humility as something quite beyondhim -- not a mere toy, such as music or tale-telling, but apractical business, which his business could never quite equal. And he was,

 
though he wouldn't have put it that way, afraid of wizards. A bit contemptuousof sorcerers, with their sleights and illusions and gibble-gabble, but afraidof wizards. "Does Mother know?" Diamond asked. "She will when the time comes. But she has no part to play in your decision, Diamond. Women knownothing of these matters and have nothing to do with them. You must make yourchoice alone, as a man. Do you understand that?" Golden was earnest, seeinghis chance to begin to wean the lad from his mother. She as a woman wouldcling, but he as a man must learn to let go. And Diamond nodded sturdilyenough to satisfy his father, though he had a thoughtful look. "Master Hemlock said I, said he thought I had, I might have a, a gift, atalent for--?" Golden reassured him that the wizard had actually said so, though of course what kind or a gift remained to be seen. The boy's modestywas a great relief to him. He had half-consciously dreaded that Diamond wouldtriumph over him, asserting his power right away -- that mysterious, dangerous, incalculable power against which Golden's wealth and mastery anddignity shrank to impotence. "Thank you, Father," the boy said. Goldenembraced him and left, well pleased with him. THEIR MEETING PLACE was in the sallows, the willow thickets down by the Amia as it ran below the smithy. Assoon as Rose got there, Diamond said, "He wants me to go study with MasterHemlock! What am I going to do?" "Study with the wizard?" "He thinks I have this huge great talent. For magic." "Who does?" "Father does. He saw some of the stuff we were practicing. But he says Hemlock says I should come studywith him because it might be dangerous not to. Oh," and Diamond beat his headwith his hands. "But you do have a talent." He groaned and scoured his scalpwith his knuckles. He was sitting on the dirt in their old play-place, a kindof bower deep in the willows, where they could hear the stream running overthe stones nearby and the clang-clang of the smithy further off. The girl satdown facing him. "Look at all the stuff you can do," she said. "You couldn'tdo any of it if you didn't have a gift." "A little gift," Diamond saidindistinctly. "Enough for tricks." "How do you know that?" Rose was verydark-skinned, with a cloud of crinkled hair, a thin mouth, an intent, seriousface. Her feet and legs and hands were bare and dirty, her skirt and jacketdisreputable. Her dirty toes and fingers were delicate and elegant, and anecklace of amethysts gleamed under the torn, buttonless jacket. Her mother, Tangle, made a good living by curing and healing, bone-knittingand birth-easing, and selling spells of finding, love-potions, andsleeping-drafts. She could afford to dress herself and her daughter in newclothes, buy shoes, and keep clean, but it didn't occur to her to do so. Norwas housekeeping one of her interests. She and Rose lived mostly on boiledchicken and fried eggs, as she was often paid in poultry. The yard of theirtwo-room house was a wilderness of cats and hens. She liked cats, toads, andjewels. The amethyst necklace had been payment for the safe delivery of a sonto Golden's head forester. Tangle herself wore armfuls of bracelets andbangles that flashed and crashed when she flicked out an impatient spell. Attimes she wore a kitten on her shoulder. She was not an attentive mother. Rose had demanded, at seven years old, "Why did you have me if you didn't wantme?" "How can you deliver babies properly if you haven't had one?" said hermother. "So I was practice," Rose snarled. "Everything is practice," Tanglesaid. She was never ill-natured. She seldom thought to do anything much forher daughter, but never hurt her, never scolded her, and gave her whatever sheasked for, dinner, a toad of her own, the amethyst necklace, lessons inwitchcraft. She would have provided new clothes if Rose had asked for them, but she never did. Rose had looked after herself from an early age; and thiswas one of the reasons Diamond loved her. With her, he knew what freedom was. Without her, he could attain it only when he was hearing and singing andplaying music. "I do have a gift," he said now, rubbing his temples andpulling his hair. "Stop destroying your head," Rose told him. "I know Tarrythinks I do." "Of course you do! What does it matter what Tarry thinks? Youalready play the harp about nine times better than he ever did." This was another of the reasons Diamond loved her. "Are there any wizard musicians?"

  he asked, looking up. She pondered. "I don't know." "I don't either. Morred and Elfarran sang to each other, and he was a mage. I think there's a MasterChanter on Roke, that teaches the lays and the histories. But I never heard ofa wizard being a musician." "I don't see why one couldn't be." She never sawwhy something could not be. Another reason he loved her. "It always seemed tome they're sort of alike," he said, "magic and music. Spells and tunes. Forone thing, you have to get them just exactly right." "Practice," Rose said, rather sourly. "I know." She flicked a pebble at Diamond. It turned into abutterfly in midair. He flicked a butterfly back at her, and the two flittedand flickered a moment before they fell back to earth as pebbles. Diamond andRose had worked out several such variations on the old stone-hoppingtrick. "You ought to go, Di," she said. "Just to find out." "I know." "What if you got to be a wizard! Oh! Think of the stuff you could teachme! Shapechanging B We could be anything. Horses! Bears!" "Moles," Diamondsaid. "Honestly, I feel like hiding underground. I always thought Father wasgoing to make me learn all his kind of stuff, after I got my name. But allthis year he's kept sort of holding off. I guess he had this in mind allalong. But what if I go down there and I'm not any better at being a wizardthan I am at bookkeeping? Why can't I do what I know I can do?" "Well, whycan't you do it all? The magic and the music, anyhow? You can always hire abookkeeper." When she laughed, her thin face got bright, her thin mouth gotwide, and her eyes disappeared. "Oh, Darkrose," Diamond said, "I loveyou." "Of course you do. You'd better. I'll witch you if you don't." Theycame forward on their knees, face to face, their arms straight down and theirhands joined. They kissed each other all over their faces. To Rose'slips Diamond's face was smooth and full as a plum, with just a hint ofprickliness above the lip and jawline, where he had taken to shaving recently. To Diamond's lips Rose's face was soft as silk, with just a hint of grittinesson one cheek, which she had rubbed with a dirty hand. They moved a littlecloser so that their breasts and bellies touched, though their hands stayeddown by their sides. They went on kissing. "Darkrose," he breathed in herear, his secret name for her. She said nothing, but breathed very warm in hisear, and he moaned. His hands clenched hers. He drew back a little. She drewback. They sat back on their ankles. "Oh Di," she said, "it will be awfulwhen you go." "I won't go," he said. "Anywhere. Ever." BUT OF COURSE he went down to Havnor South Port, in one of his father's carts driven by one of hisfather's carters, along with Master Hemlock. As a rule, people do what wizardsadvise them to do. And it is no small honor to be invited by a wizard to behis student or apprentice. Hemlock, who had won his staff on Roke, was used tohaving boys come to him begging to be tested and, if they had the gift for it, taught. He was a little curious about this boy whose cheerful good manners hidsome reluctance or self-doubt. It was the father's idea, not the boy's, thathe was gifted. That was unusual, though perhaps not so unusual among thewealthy as among common folk. At any rate he came with a very good prenticingfee paid beforehand in gold and ivory. If he had the makings of a wizardHemlock would train him, and if he had, as Hemlock suspected, a mere childishflair, then he'd be sent home with what remained of his fee. Hemlock was anhonest, upright, humorless, scholarly wizard with little interest in feelingsor ideas. His gift was for names. "The art begins and ends in naming," hesaid, which indeed is true, although there may be a good deal betweenthe beginning and the end. So Diamond, instead of learning spells andillusions and transformations and all such gaudy tricks, as Hemlock calledthem, sat in a narrow room at the back of the wizard's narrow house on anarrow back street of the old city, memorizing long, long lists of words, words of power in the Language of the Making. Plants and parts of plants andanimals and parts of animals and islands and parts of islands, parts of ships, parts of the human body. The words never made sense, never made sentences, only lists. Long, long lists. His mind wandered. "Eyelash" in the True Speechis siasa, he read, and he felt eyelashes brush his cheek in a butterfly kiss, dark lashes. He looked up startled and did not know what had touched him.