“We do this all the time with Kaaren at home.” Dias pulled bread and cheese out of the bag. “After the house was asleep, we would meet in one of our bedrooms and talk about whatever would make us smile.”
I experienced a swift jolt of envy. My brothers and sister had been sent from home to boarding schools, of course, but they still had had much more time with each other than I’d had. They’d grown up together, lived together, shared experiences and habits. I’d had friends at the Academy, and we’d developed our own traditions, but it wasn’t quite the same.
“I’m not your brother,” Taro said from where he stood in the doorway.
“You’ve put up with our sister daily for years, and you will for the rest of your life,” said Mika. “So you’re our brother whether you like it or not. Come on.”
At first, Taro looked shocked. Then he went sort of expressionless, and I didn’t know what that meant, but he joined my brothers on the bed. I climbed on, too, feeling like a child. But then, it wasn’t always a bad thing, to act like a child.
“So, Sister.” Mika poured wine into the mugs and handed them out. “How does it feel to be the prize to be battled over by two such handsome young men?”
“Degrading,” I muttered.
“Must you bring that up?” Taro complained. “We’re trying to forget about it for a bit.”
“Good luck with that,” said Dias.
“Maybe you don’t know that brothers are supposed to torture each other,” Mika told Taro.
I kicked Mika. Taro knew all about brothers torturing each other.
“Don’t hit me,” Mika remonstrated. “Unless you want to be tortured, too.”
“Why does anyone have to be tortured?” I asked plaintively.
“That’s what siblings do.”
So maybe I didn’t envy them so much after all.
“Did you see Lord Tarce at supper?” Dias said, pulling apart the bread he had brought. “Who unwrapped the stick from his spine?”
“He was never that bad,” said Taro.
I looked at him. “Are you serious?” I bit into my chunk of bread. This was a good idea. I was suddenly starving.
“He’s been pursued by people all his life because of who his parents were, who his sister is. He doesn’t know how to act.”
Dias laughed. “We’ve heard the stories, Shintaro. You’ve always been inundated with attention. It hasn’t turned you into a stiff prat.”
“Perhaps Tarce has more pride than I ever had,” Taro muttered.
None of us knew what to say to that, so we spent a moment in uncomfortable silence.
Then Mika hit Dias in the back of the head. “Nice job of depressing everyone.”
“Hey, he’s the one who got all serious on us. Why don’t you hit him?”
“Only I am allowed to hit him,” I told them.
Taro raised an eyebrow.
Though, really, none of us should be hitting anyone else.
And then, out of nowhere, Mika said, “Did anyone tell you about the time Dias was caught having sex with a supplier’s daughter under a table during supper?”
It was like pulling on the reins of a galloping horse. It took a few moments for the change in direction to really sink in. Because what had made Mika think of that?
Dias leapt on him, covering Mika’s mouth with a hand. Mika pulled Dias’s hand away and then it became a struggle as the two of them fought over where Dias’s hand would go.
It was infantile, yet it made me smile and exchange an amused glance with Taro as we avoided the thrashing limbs of my brothers.
“The dinner was for potential suppliers,” Mika gasped out.
“No!” Dias managed to sit on Mika’s chest but his attempts to cover Mika’s mouth were still thwarted by Mika’s hands. “Mother and Father were hosting a house party to attract new connections.”
“Shut up!”
“And one had a lovely young daughter.”
“How young?” I demanded.
Mika scowled at me. “Not that young. Don’t be disgusting.”
“Sorry. The wording threw me.”
“Anyway, when she and Dias met, it was lust at first sight. The introductions were barely finished before they disappeared. Mother was annoyed because she’d wanted Dias to observe the discussions, but no one could find him or the woman anywhere. Until supper, when after everyone had been seated we could hear these very odd noises from under the table cloth.”
If one could be said to tackle another person, while both were sitting, that was what Dias did to Mika. They rolled on the bed, and Taro grabbed everyone’s mugs and held them out of spilling range.
I pulled my leg up to my chest, wrapped an arm around it, rested my chin on my knee and watched my brothers act like fools. Taro was smirking. It was fun.
Mika was finally able to hold Dias down and finish the story, which, really, I could predict, but Mika was rather good with his words, after he got started and warmed up. I could even laugh at his description of Dias and his friend under the table, and how furious Mother had been at the shenanigans. Then Dias told a story of how Kaaren had disappeared for two weeks, our parents frantic until Kaaren came back with tales of her and eight others moving from house to house playing cards and smoking blue dust, unmoved by our parents’ worry and fury.
I told them of a time at the Shield Academy when I had gotten sick of the soup being served for the fourth day in a row and, in an attempt to make my own, had ruined a pot and made a mess it took hours to clean. Taro told us of the time he had fainted after channeling under the guidance of a teaching Pair. It was a story I hadn’t heard before, and I’d thought we had talked about everything during our long shifts at the Observation Post in High Scape.
I couldn’t say how long we sat on our bed, talking. And laughing. It certainly felt very late when Dias and Mika excused themselves.
Why couldn’t we have transferred to my family’s site? Seventh Year wasn’t Taro’s place of birth, so channeling would have been easy. There would be no power plays to watch. Taro wouldn’t have been torn about by his proximity to his mother. It would have all been so easy.
Maybe next time.
Chapter Ten
I was up before the sun again, having never slept solidly that night. I���d kept waking up to make sure I didn’t oversleep. I tore myself from the warm blankets on our bed and dressed quietly, tying my hair back from my face. I lit a lantern and made my way out of the silent, dark manor. I tripped three times by the time I reached Browne’s cottage.
I didn’t know if the meeting was going to be held at all, with people being injured the day before. As I knocked on Browne’s door, I thought that I might be rousing her from much needed sleep. She had probably been working hard dealing with the people hurt by the riders.
But the door opened immediately. “Shield Mallorough, fair morning.”
“Fair morning, Healer Browne.”
I was pulled into the cottage. “Have some tea,” she said.
Three lanterns were lit and the stove was heated. I could smell the tea as Browne poured, some kind of mint mixed with something sweet. I accepted a cup and sat at the table. “I wasn’t sure you would be up for this,” I commented.
“Why ever not?” Browne poured herself a cup of tea and joined me at the table.
“Yesterday was a very busy day for you.”
Browne took a sip of tea. “Everyone is settled with their families. Everyone will heal.”
“Your talent seems exceptional.” The tea was wonderful, lightly sweet.
“I had excellent teachers.”
“Really? In a place as remote as this?”
“It’s not remote,” she responded with surprise.
I was a Shield. I was supposed to be endowed with some measure of tact. “I’m sorry. It’s just so far away from everywhere I’ve ever been.”
She smirked. “And that makes it remote?”
All right, so I felt like an idiot.
“There have always been people passing through here. I mean, obviously most of the tenant families have been here for generations, but there have always been teachers, artists, tradespeople, all sorts moving in and out.”
Huh. That was surprising.
“I’ve always lived here, but there have been three other healers here in my lifetime. Very different in their approaches, their areas of skill. I learned a great deal from all of them.”
“Did one of them teach you about casting?”
“No.” She took another sip of tea. “I had a partner. We worked together, seeing to the needs of the people. She died six years ago of the sweating disease. There was nothing I could do for her. None of my skills as a healer were of any use. It was why I started exploring spells. The range for healing seemed greater.”
“How did you start, though? Did you find some books?”
“No. I was seeing to a patient with a bad fever. Rock vine sickness. And I was losing the battle. His father had a suggestion. A spell he’d tried before they brought me in. It hadn’t worked for him. He thought I should give it a try.”
“And it worked? Your first spell?”
“I’m very good,” she said without a trace of arrogance. “After that, I went looking for people and any other source of information. There’s a lot to be had, around here.”
“But it’s dangerous, people letting other people know of their interest in casting.”
“Not so much here. There has always been casting here, though for a long time the spells weren’t very strong. But yes, we do have to take care. We usually don’t approach anyone unless we’re fairly confident they’re trustworthy.”
Yet people were talking to me about it. What had I done to prove to them I was trustworthy?
There was a knock on the door. “Come,” Browne called. The door opened and two people entered, a young woman and a middle-aged man. They were both wearing odd, bright yellow robes. Browne and I rose to our feet. “Shield Mallorough, this is Whaler Spencer Yonhap and Fisher Penelope Tye. They’re going with us.” Browne withdrew into the other room and returned wearing her own yellow robe. We headed out.
It was still dark. So much earlier than I should be awake. And what about those casters taking a half-day’s ride? How were they handling it?
I couldn’t imagine how one rode a horse in the dark.
Someone came out of a cottage and trotted over to us. He was young, not yet twenty, I guessed, with the exaggerated slimness of youth and a messy mop of red hair. He was wearing a yellow robe, too. “Shield Mallorough, have you met Sewer Ivor Chan?”
“No, I don’t believe I have.”
“Actually, we have met,” said Chan, and that was embarrassing. I hated forgetting people. “We helped you arrange for clothing. We had difficulty with your Shield braid. We’d never had to weave those before.”
“My apologies.” I was apologizing for forgetting him, not for putting him to the trouble of weaving my Shield braid.
He understood that. “You haven’t been here long, and I imagine you’ve had to meet a lot of people.”
That was true. And it hadn’t helped that everyone had known who I was before we met, due to gossip.
“How is your father, Ivor?” Browne asked.
“The ointment helps, Healer Browne, but it is still difficult for him to sew.”
“He shouldn’t be sewing. He should be leaving that to the younger members of the family and enjoying his freedom.”
“He gets angry whenever we suggest that. I think it makes him feel useless.”
Browne shook her head. “There’s nothing more I can do for him.”
“I understand. There’s nothing I can do for him, either. But he keeps asking.”
Could they afford not to have their father work? One thing I had noticed about the villagers, everyone from young children to the elderly had to work very hard. And every chore I’d witnessed had looked brutal. Bending the back without relent, or ripping up fingers. I couldn’t imagine doing such work.
I could sort of understand why regulars resented me. My life had to look so easy to them. They didn’t know we risked our lives every time we channeled, or, more likely, they simply couldn’t understand it at a real level.
Then again, there were others who risked their lives without enjoying the freedom members of the Triple S had. Soldiers, for one. Runners, too. They really had a reason to resent us.
We were heading away from the village, away from the area I usually visited. The sky was lightening a little. The morning felt fresh and vibrant.
“How long has this group been meeting?” I asked.
“Forever,” said Chan.
“Not quite,” said Browne. “But a few generations.”
“How many are in it?”
“Usually there are twenty.”
“Usually?”
“Three live in Kent. They have missed the last four meetings.”
Interesting. Had they been ordered not to come? “Have they told you why they no longer wish to attend? Is it a permanent breach?”
“There has been no word from them.”
We were walking by farmland. We were going to the residence of a tenant farmer, I supposed. For some reason, the idea of a farmer spell caster felt incongruous. Farming was all about hard work in the solid, heavy ground. Casting was about avoiding hard work. Air instead of soil. Words instead of implements of wood and iron. Though I supposed those that worked the hardest most deserved the ease of casting.
There was a group of people standing beside a farmhouse, most of them with lanterns. They were all wearing yellow robes, and they stood in a warped circle. No one was talking. The silence was creepy.
“You didn’t tell me to wear a robe,” I said to Browne. Not that I had such a garment. Not that I wanted to wear one, either. They were ugly.
My voice sounded very loud. I winced.
“You aren’t a member of the group,” Browne whispered. “Hurry. We’re late.”
There were no greetings exchanged. Once the others saw Browne, Tye, Yonhap and Chan, they straightened out the circle, setting their lanterns on the ground before them. They were, for the most part, evenly spaced. There were three spaces twice the size of the others, and I wondered if those were the places for the missing casters.