Kaavl Conspiracy (11 page)

Rolban

Secondday

All the talk
in the dining hall the next morning was about the imminent arrival of Mentàll Solboshn, the Dehrien Chief. He had never visited Rolban before, and everyone was eager to meet him. He was supposed to arrive sometime that afternoon, and would leave the next morning before the Kaavl Games began. Normally, Methusal would pay little attention to any of this, but the Dehrien would be bringing the Alliance—a topic that now worried her, too. She was also curious to meet him because Kitran seemed so awed by him.

“What do you think, Thusa?” Deccia asked. She and Aali sat with Methusal while they finished up breakfast.

“About what?” She had been lost in her own thoughts, thinking about Hanuh’s warning about the Alliance last night. It worried her. Frankly, putting her life in more peril wasn’t at the top of her list right now.

“The Alliance, silly,” her sister interrupted her thoughts again. “What everyone’s talking about. What do you think about it?”

Methusal told the others about the impression Hanuh had received last night.

Deccia frowned. “That’s odd. I wonder what kind of danger she
meant.”

“I don’t know. But I don’t want any part of it. My life is complicated enough right now.”

“I agree.” Deccia continued to frown. “On the surface, the Alliance sounds great. Our communities could help each other during hard times. And we could trade more freely. The Great War Peace Plan could be loosened, and we could allow traveling merchants within our walls. It could be wonderful. The Dehriens could provide us with more wild beast oil, and the Tarst make beautiful tapestries. I’m sure both communities have a lot to share.”

“Who cares about the old Alliance, anyway?” Aalicaa muttered. “I say, scrap it. Father’s only for it so he can look important, and be Chief again. All he cares about is getting his own way.”

“Aalicaa!” Deccia said, in clear shock. “How can you speak about Father…”

“Bother Father! I’m tired of the way he orders us around. Do this, do that. Mother was never like that, was she? Why couldn’t we have Mother instead of
Father?
He’s mean, and I hate him!” Aalicaa burst into tears and fled from the table.

“What was that all about?”

Deccia sighed. “She’s going through a rebellious stage. She keeps testing him.”

“About what?”

“Kaavl. Father just found out she’s been secretly practicing. He’s forbidden her to learn it, but you know Aali. Father’s furious. He’s old fashioned, and doesn’t think girls should learn kaavl, since it used to be a weapon of war. But she refuses to give it up.”

Methusal remembered Aali listening in on the Quatr-level instruction. “And she shouldn’t.”

Deccia sighed, “Thusa…”

“Did you want to learn kaavl too, Deccia?”

“No! Not really. Please, Thusa, try to understand. Father is of the old school, and Aali needs to obey him. It’s a power struggle, that’s all. Aali’s just testing him.”

Methusal agreed it was a power struggle, but she didn’t think Aali’s desire to learn kaavl should be crushed just on Petr’s say so. Especially if she was gifted. It would be a crime to suffocate kaavl talent. However, it was pointless to argue, because Petr was inflexible, as she knew all too well. He would never change his mind—not about her guilt, nor about anything else. But it was a shame about Aali.

Deccia changed the subject. “How is your investigation going? Have you found any clues?”

“No, and it’s frustrating. The Kaavl Games are tomorrow, and I want more than anything to concentrate only on that. I talked to Kitran, and he believes I’m innocent. He said he’d talk to Petr about letting me play in the Tri-level. But I don’t know if it will help.”

“I’m sorry, Thusa. I forgot to tell you, but I spoke to Father about the charges against you. He wouldn’t listen.”

Methusal wasn’t surprised. “Thanks, anyway.”

“If I can do anything to help you clear your name, let me
know. If you need to investigate outside…or anything,” Deccia
insisted.

“I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Were you able to investigate the ore mine?”

She told Deccia about her misadventures at the mine, and that Behran had unfortunately apprehended her. “At least I know now the thief has to be someone with authorized access. How many people, do you think, are on that list?”

“Ask Timaeus.” Deccia blushed. “Remember, Aali said he’s a guard for the mine sometimes. He must have access to the list.”

“Good idea.” Methusal’s mind went to the recent thefts.
“I don’t understand why pelts, food, and pots have been stolen.
No one in Rolban is hungry, and if they are, they can go to the kitchen and get a snack.”

“Dehre needs food. But I heard they’re trading with Tarst now—at least for lumber. Besides, no Dehriens come here, except for messengers. And I haven’t seen any of them running off with big pots in their arms.”

Methusal agreed. “It has to be a Rolbani. But do you know what’s really bothering me? The ore. Why would someone steal ore? No one needs it. We’re not short on hunting knives, or pots…well, we’ve lost a few of those, I guess.”

“The Peace Plan banned ore melting.”

“Right. Because people can make weapons with it.” This fact sent an uneasy chill through her. Slowly, she said, “What if the food thefts are just a distraction? What if they’re meant to divert attention from the ore thefts?”

“You think someone could be making weapons? But w
here, and how? It would have to be smelted. Someone would see the smoke, or smell it.”

“You think it’s a crazy idea.”

“No. Maybe not.”

“Timaeus might know,” Methusal said. “He’s a messenger to Tarst, Dehre, and Aestoff. I’ll ask if he’s seen any strange fires while he’s been out.”

“Good idea.” Deccia flushed slightly, and looked down.

“Or
you
could ask him,” Methusal slyly suggested.

“No.
…No,
” Deccia said more firmly. “I don’t want to come across as too…pushy. I already talked to him this morning. I don’t want to chase him.”

“You barely speak to him. You’re not chasing him.”

“Still. If he’s interested in me, he should make an effort, too.” Deccia abruptly changed the subject. “I love my teaching apprenticeship.”

“What about Verdnt?”

“He’s still behaving.”

“Good. Thank goodness he’s not taking advantage of Petr’s marriage endorsement.”

Deccia eyed her. “No need to be sarcastic.”

“How do you stand it?” Methusal managed not to roll her eyes in complete frustration. “Okay. I’ll stop. Tell me more about teaching.”

“Verdnt is overworked, so he’s giving me more of his teaching load. It does mean we’re spending more time together. Besides teaching, he’s been talking to people about the problems in Rolban. And, of course, he’s campaigning to be Chief.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? I mean, he
is running against your father.”

“No. He’s so excited about running for Chief that it’s kind of fun to listen to him. He has a lot of good ideas. Like giving honors to people who work especially hard, and updating the school texts. Things like that.”

“Hmm.” Those things didn’t sound terribly exciting, but she didn’t say so. “What about Timaeus? You said you talked to him today?”

Deccia flushed. “We stood in line together this morning.”

“Uh huh…” Methusal wiggled her eyebrows. “What did you say?”

Deccia smiled. “I said it looks like a sunny day, and he said he was looking forward to guarding the entrance this afternoon. That way he can be outside for a while.”

Methusal squeezed her twin’s arm. “That’s wonderful, Decc.”

Her sister looked quietly pleased.

Methusal was glad that her sister had made the effort to conquer her shyness and talk to Timaeus. In her opinion, Deccia should talk to him a little more. But maybe her twin had a point—if Timaeus was interested in her, he should definitely take more initiative, too.

Class would start soon. Methusal quickly finished the
last of her cereal and hurried to the classroom with her sister.

A rash plan had begun to form the minute she’d learned Timaeus’ schedule for this afternoon. First, she’d ask him about the ore mine authorization list, and about any suspicious fires he might have seen in other communities. Then she’d put her next plan into motion. She sketched out a few details in her mind as she slid into her seat, and then briefly slipped into daydreams about the Tri-Level Game tomorrow. Tomorrow! She hadn’t heard from Kitran yet. Hopefully he’d convince Petr to let her play.

Fidgeting, she waited for Verdnt to finish speaking about the Great War, which ended 200 years ago. He was pointedly stressing that
both
Dehre and Tarst had invaded Rolban back then. Ancient history. Her mind wandered. After class she’d help Old Sims. After lunch, she’d visit Timaeus at the gate.

The details of her rebellious plan continued to take shape, too. Should she do it? Prudence said no, but Petr’s unfair treatment rankled deep. She was innocent, after all.

Would this class never end?

Her fingers drummed softly on the desk. She had so many things to do.

Verdnt was discussing the Alliance again, but Methusal had heard enough about it. She blocked out the lecture and attempted to listen in on the class next door. First level math.

Boring.

She became vaguely aware that someone was calling her name.

“Methusal!”

Uh oh. She’d tuned out her present surroundings
too
completely. Her eyes focused upon her teacher’s irate face. “Yes, sir. I’m right here.”

Snorts of laughter erupted in the class.

Verdnt scowled. “I’d appreciate your complete attention.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He turned his back on her. “That will be all, class.”

Next to her, Deccia whispered, “Be careful, Thusa. He could get you expelled from the Games.”

“I know.” Worry gripped her. What a fool she’d been. All she needed right now were both Verdnt and Petr allied against her. “Do you think he’ll talk to Kitran?”

“No.” Deccia scraped together a few parchment leaves. “I’ll put in a good word for you. I don’t think he’d report you this close to the Games, anyway.”

Methusal spotted Timaeus over her sister’s shoulder, and subtly elbowed her. “Look,” she hissed. “It’s Timaeus. Talk to him.”

Deccia shot her a warning look. “No.”

“Why not? Or maybe you’re interested in Verdnt, after all?” Methusal only said this to try to provoke her sister into action. They slipped into the hallway together.

“Thusa!” Tears brightened Deccia’s eyes, but her mouth settled into a straight line. “I don’t like Verdnt. I’m just
sick
of wondering if Timaeus likes me. I wish he’d make an effort, if he does. I want to know how he feels.”

“I’m sorry, Deccia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

At that moment, Timaeus exited from the classroom and glanced at Deccia. The frown she shot his way made him stop in obvious surprise. Deccia turned and marched away.

Timaeus stared at Methusal. “What was that about?”

Maybe she was making another mistake, but the two clearly needed some help. Their relationship had crept forward at a slug monster’s pace over the last several months. And now, with Verdnt in the running…

She chose her words with care. “Have you ever felt nervous about talking to someone?”

Timaeus’ mouth drooped. “Sometimes I feel that way with Deccia.”

Methusal smiled to herself. Easier than she’d thought. “Maybe you should talk to her. A little
more
, I mean.”

Hope dawned in his dark brown eyes. “You think so?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” She smiled.

He flashed a grin. “Thanks, Thusa.” He swung away, his steps light.

“And what was
that
about?” Methusal turned to find Behran watching her with a quirked eyebrow. “Playing matchmaker?”

It was amazing how fast her warm feeling of accomplishment could turn into irritation. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Temper, temper.” Grinning, he sauntered down the hall.

He’d done it again. Biting her lip, Methusal slipped toward the supply room. When would she ever learn?

Today Sims wanted to do a detailed inventory of all the upstairs supplies. The ongoing job of sifting the two bags of seed grain would have to wait. Terrific. Methusal was thrilled to postpone that boring job.

“The grain for meals is kept in that corner,” Sims pointed. “Be sure to count the seed grain in a separate column.”

“All right. But I have a question—maybe it’s dumb. What is the difference between seed grain and the grain we eat?”

“Not dumb at all, my girl. We sort through the seeds and choose the heartiest kernels for replanting. Those have strong, intact skins, with no blemishes or marks. Then we soak them in hot water for a time, which helps prevent certain diseases from infecting the crops. After treatment, we carefully and thoroughly dry the grain. Usually, those kernels provide the best crops.”

“That’s interesting. Did you say Barak will plant half of it soon? What about the other half?”

“Two crop cycles are planted. One will begin shortly, and the other will begin halfway through summer. That way, if one part of the summer is too hot, or if the insects are bad, we have another crop to count on. Of course, drought is never a problem, because we have the Rolbani River and Motr’s irrigation system.”

Behran helped Motr to engineer better water systems for the community and croplands. An important task, but Methusal had never fully realized how important until now. “I’m looking forward to the summer months for another reason,” she said. “Fresh vegetables will be a nice change from grain and meat every day.” The logne leaves were the first of the summer’s leafy vegetables.