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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Legacies (12 page)

BOOK: Legacies
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22

The harvest afternoon was cooler than usual, with a wind out of the northeast that mixed the scent of quarasote with the acrid and near-metallic odor that emanated from the Aerlal Plateau. The coolness suited Alucius, wearing a new nightsilk and sheepskin vest, as he stood behind the table that had been moved out to north end of the front porch and served the berry punch and the weak ale that his grandfather favored. He was still somewhat amazed that Royalt had decided to hold a harvest-gather. He also kept looking for the cooper's wagon and Wendra.

Vardial stepped to the table, holding up a tumbler. “I'd like the ale, but…”

“So would I…but I only get a small glass with supper.” Alucius grinned.

“Do they decide this among themselves? A poor young herder has no choice at all…”

“You poor misbegotten fellow…” Elyra stepped up beside Vardial.

Alucius took her tumbler and refilled it with more of the berry punch, and then refilled Vardial's as well. “All of us who would be herders suffer great hardship. Surely, you know that, Elyra?” Alucius couldn't quite manage a straight face as he finished.

Elyra laughed. “You're too honest to lie well, Alucius—even in a good cause.”

“You must admit it is a good cause,” Vardial said.

“You will have to persuade me, I think.” Elyra smiled at Vardial as the two moved away.

Kustyl walked toward the table, carrying two tumblers, both empty.

“Ale, sir?” asked Alucius. He could have told that Kustyl was a herder, like his grandsire, even without the silver and black crystal wristguard, because the older man had the flecks of green and silver that flashed through the basic blackness that all people seemed to have. Even Wendra had a few, but they were scattered, but that might have been because she had never had to do anything requiring Talent.

“I wouldn't be having anything else, would I, now?” answered the thin and wiry herder with a wide smile. “Especially not as Royalt's bought Typel's best.” He held up both tumblers, and his sleeves dropped back, just enough to reveal the herder's wristguard on his left wrist.

Alucius hadn't realized that the guard could be worn on either wrist, but it had to be a choice by each herder because Kustyl was most definitely a herder, and wore his silver and black on his left, while Royalt wore his on his right. Alucius refilled both tumblers, and then pumped out more ale from the keg into the pitcher. He had finished refilling the pitcher when Elyra and Vardial reappeared together.

“Wendra's just arrived, and we thought we could serve the punch and ale. Your mother and your grandsire said that, if we wanted to relieve you, we could.”

“Thank you.” Alucius stepped toward Vardial and away from the table. Everyone knew everything—about some aspects of life, at least.

The stockier youth grinned at Alucius and mouthed, “Thank
you
.”

Alucius returned the grin. Vardial would do anything to corner time with Elyra, and seemed oblivious to the fact that she could have easily avoided his obvious ploys.

After stepping off the porch, Alucius forced himself not to run toward the stable and the shed being used as a stable for some of the guests, but he did find himself walking quickly. As he neared the stable, he could see Kyrial, Clerynda, Wendra, and a boy standing beside the cooper's wagon. Wendra was wearing dark green trousers, with a matching vest, and a lighter green shirt. The greens set off her hair and eyes. Absently, Alucius also saw, in the back of the wagon, four full barrels and two half barrels.

“Greetings,” Alucius bowed to the cooper, his wife, and then Wendra and her younger brother.

Before they could answer, Royalt stepped out of the shed where he had been stabling Kyrial's horses. “Thought you might be coming down.”

“I just found out they were here. Would you like me to unload the barrels?” Alucius looked to Kyrial.

“If we each take two,” Royalt said, “we can just set them inside the shed and out of the way, and then Alucius and I will take care of them tomorrow.”

“Fine by me,” answered Kyrial. “They were done, and I thought I'd spare you a trip.” He smiled at Alucius. “Though I'd not be sure that the young man would have minded that.”

Alucius managed not to flush as he lifted one of the larger barrels and carried it into the shed.

“This time of year, he'll be there sooner or later,” Royalt predicted, taking a barrel as well. “There's always something needed.”

“I'd be apologizing for being a trace late,” offered Kyrial, “but I was delayed by Gortal. He wanted to order some special barrels.”

“We've all got legacies to bear,” Royalt replied. “Herders have to deal with the weather and sandwolves, coopers and merchants with difficult buyers.”

“At least, Gortal's not a Legacy of the Duarches,” suggested Clerynda. “Close…but not quite that bad.”

“Might as well be,” replied Royalt humorously.

Alucius nodded, knowing that “Legacy of the Duarches” meant different things to different people, although to herders it referred to something left that was not what it was supposed to be, usually less than good.

When they finished with the barrels, Royalt looked to his grandson. “Alucius…would you like to show the young woman and her brother to the refreshments? We older folk take longer.”

“Yes, sir.” Alucius offered his arm, and Wendra took it.

“I'll stay with you and mother,” announced the boy. “They'll just say—”

“Korcler…” Clerynda's voice was low and stern.

“Yes, ma'am,” Korcler said very contritely. “But might I?”

“Yes, you may.”

Alucius kept his smile to himself as he and Wendra moved away from the larger group. “I'm glad you could come.” He took a long look into her gold-green eyes.

“So am I.” This time, she did not look away. “I like your vest.”

“Thank you. It was a harvest gift from my grandparents. I like your vest, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you finished with Madame Myrier?”

“Weeks ago. Right after you came to the shop. I've started to keep the ledgers at the shop now. Father checks them, and so does Mother, but I haven't made any errors so far.”

Alucius sensed the pride behind Wendra's words. “You
are
sitting with me at dinner.”

“You might have asked me.” There was a hint of mischief in Wendra's words.

“I didn't want to give you a choice.” Alucius offered an embarrassed grin.

“What will your family say?” she asked, amusement still coloring her voice.

“I told them already. We can sit with your family or mine, but together.”

“And which death do you prefer, young herder Alucius—death by sandwolves or sanders?”

“It won't be that bad,” Alucius protested.

“If you have to sit beside Korcler, it will be.”

“He seems nice enough.”

“ ‘Seems' is a good word. He's been warned by Father. That will last but a short while. If
…if
I have a choice, I would like to sit with your family.”

“If that is your choice, then that's what we'll do. Probably, Mother won't sit down for long. She never does, but my grandparents will.” The two went up the main steps onto the porch.

Vardial gave a broad smile as Alucius escorted Wendra toward the refreshment table.

Elyra elbowed Vardial and murmured, in a voice Alucius was not meant to hear, “Not a word, or I won't eat with you.”

“That's not fair,” Vardial mumbled back, even as he offered a tumbler of the berry punch to Wendra. “Would you like a glass, Alucius?”

“Yes, please. I could get it.”

“Maybe…after you and Wendra have a few moments, you could…”

“We'd be happy to,” Wendra replied.

“In a moment,” Alucius added. “It's a long ride from town. Let Wendra have a moment to enjoy her punch.”

That moment passed quickly, and before long both Alucius and Wendra had finished their tumblers and were standing behind the table.

One of the first to arrive was Kyrial. “I see you put her to work immediately, Alucius.”

“She volunteered.” Alucius paused. “Ale for you and Madame Clerynda?”

“Ale for her, punch for me.”

Alucius filled one tumbler with ale, while Wendra filled the other with punch.

After Kyrial left the table and before anyone else came up, Alucius glanced at Wendra.

“Father says the ale doesn't serve him well,” Wendra replied to the unspoken question. “He never drinks any. He said I'd have to be careful with it when I'm older to see whether I'm like him or like Mother.”

“Wise man, your father,” said Royalt, who had eased up to the table. “Takes after his father that way. Pleased to see you here, Wendra. You have your mother's good looks, and from what I hear, your sire's judgment. Don't hesitate to use both on this young fellow.”

Alucius managed not to flush as he refilled Royalt's tumbler.

“You're much too kind, sir,” Wendra replied.

Royalt laughed, genially. “Kindness isn't an offense I'm often accused of.”

“That's probably because you take care not to show it in public, I'd think.”

Royalt shook his head. “Alucius…you show this lady the greatest of kindness. Were I your age, you'd not see her again.” He grinned at Wendra.

She returned the grin with a cheerful smile. After Royalt had left, she murmured, as Kustyl neared the table, “I think I'll like your grandsire.

Alucius hoped so.

“Are you treating this young fellow right, Wendra?” asked Kustyl.

“I'd hope I am,” she replied with another smile.

“Good…he deserves it.” Kustyl grinned at Alucius. “But then, so does she.”

“I've always thought that,” Alucius said.

As Kustyl walked away with the tumbler of ale that Alucius had refilled, Wendra and Alucius looked at each other. Then they both laughed.

“Supper's ready. Serving in the kitchen!” called Veryl from the front door.

“We'll wait and see if people want more to drink with their supper,” Alucius said.

“I thought so. That's the way Grandfather always wanted it, too,” Wendra replied.

“Your parents didn't mind coming?”

“Late on Novdi, business is slow anyway. No one had been in the shop for a glass or more, and we were already closing when Gortal showed up. Otherwise, we would have been here sooner. Mother was very pleased to be able to come. So was Father—once Gortal left.”

Wendra stopped as Tynan—the son of Veryl's brother and a herder from farther north—neared the table.

“More ale?” asked Alucius.

“Please, young fellow. Can't enjoy supper to the fullest without a healthy tumbler of ale.”

He winked at Alucius. “Course, a pretty girl helps, too.”

Alucius couldn't help flushing.

After Tynan stepped away, Wendra murmured, “You're blushing.”

“You are pretty, and I am enjoying being with you, but everyone is watching us.”

Wendra laughed softly. “What do you expect? Why else would you have a new vest? Why else did Mother insist on new clothes for me? Everyone wants to know if we'll get along.”

Alucius knew he was blushing even more furiously.

Wendra reached out and squeezed his hand. “It's all right. Don't you think that it's good they care? My cousin Syndra had to marry a butcher in Emal, and she didn't even know him.”

Alucius winced at that.

“It's not for me, Alucius,” Wendra added. “It's for you. All this will be yours one day, and everyone knows it's important that you have the right woman.” She smiled. “I'm just lucky to be someone you're interested in.”

“I'm the lucky one,” he protested.

“I hope you always feel that way.”

They both looked up as Korcler marched toward them.

“Mother said I could have another glass of punch.” He looked up at Alucius. “If you please, Alucius?”

“I'm sure we can manage that, Korcler.” Alucius took the proffered tumbler and refilled it.

“Thank you.” Korcler bowed, turned, and headed for the kitchen.

“He was very polite,” Alucius remarked.

“Father probably threatened him with having to smooth the inside of the barrels.”

“That sounds as bad as sharpening blades on a grindstone.”

“It's worse,” Wendra said. “I've done both.”

In time, Alucius and Wendra walked toward the round table for five that had been put in the corner of the main room. Although he and Wendra had been among the very last to serve themselves, there had been more than enough food, and they had piled their plates with not only the spiced mutton rolls and the cheesed lace potatoes, but with the fresh buttered gladbeans and the maize-carrot salad, and the warm current biscuits.

As Alucius had predicted, even after everyone had been served, the place reserved for his mother was vacant.

“You both know Wendra,” Alucius said to his grandparents as he seated the brunette.

“We've known about her for years. Kustyl never stopped talking about you, his little granddaughter.” Veryl smiled at Wendra. “And now you're a grown woman.”

Wendra returned the smile, shyly. “I'm not sure my brother would agree to that.” She managed one bite of the mutton roll after speaking.

“Brothers never do,” Veryl replied, dismissively. “Mine still call me their little sister…and I'm the oldest.”

“Your father says you've a fine head for figures,” Royalt suggested.

“I like working with numbers. Madame Myrier even gave me a book that has some ways to calculate how strong parts of buildings should be. I don't understand it all yet, but I will.”

As he took a mouthful of the potatoes, Alucius nodded approvingly at the determination in Wendra's voice.

BOOK: Legacies
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ads

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