John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

"The Council of Dralm hasn't developed the concept of heresy," Lathor Karv was saying in what, for him, passed for a reasonable tone of voice. "Therefore how can you argue that we'll be in danger of being charged with a crime that doesn't exist?"

"That doesn't exist now," Professor Aranth replied rather grimly, Sirna thought. She wondered if what bothered him was the strength of the opposition, possible danger to the Team, or simply that an argument he'd probably begun to cure his own boredom was now making it worse, now that the professional nit-pickers had gotten into it. "We have no idea what the highpriests of Dralm may eventually decide is appropriate, in the face of Styphon's House and what is on the verge of becoming a full-blown religious war. Kalvan can't do a Dralm-damned thing to stop them from inventing heresy if they want to, either, so don't give me your usual song-and-dance about Kalvan, Eldra."

Baltrov Eldra just sighed and looked bored.

"You're showing a typical male reversion pattern, Aranth," Varnath Lala said. "The minute men get into a patriarchal culture like this one, they seem to soak up its attitudes with the air they breathe and the water they drink. If they can't do anything else, they are rude to their female colleagues. You've gone completely out of sight on oath-bonding as well."

"You call yourself a pre-Industrial Specialist-even if it is Metallurgy, Lala, and actually have the gall to say oaths aren't taken seriously? Guilds that work metal take oath's especially strong." Aranth Saln's voice held honest incredulity, and Sirna had to admit that once again Varnath Lala had left herself wide open in an effort to ruffle a man. That wasn't the first time for that, either, or the twentieth. In part, brought on by the attempt to pass for 'free' women among Fourth Level foundry workers, who didn't believe the term free applied to women in any sense, the rest because of her irascible personality.

"I don't think it can honestly be said that we've sworn any oaths that require us to mention the 'true gods,'" Lathor Karv said, in his lecture-hall tone of voice. "Therefore I don't think we will be considered oath-breakers as long as we observe the appropriate rituals and don't break taboos or interfere with the priests."

Even over the rain and crackle of fire in the next room, Sirna heard Varnath Lala's hiss of indrawn breath, then her tight-voiced reply.

"I'm afraid I lack your enthusiasm or your talent for hypocrisy, Lathor. Kalvan himself didn't mince words calling fireseed the result of 'simple mechanic arts' any child could learn. Why shouldn't we follow in the Great King's own footsteps?"

"I, for one, lack enthusiasm for wet rugs," Baltrov Eldra said, "and in case none of you has noticed, the roof is leaking again."

Sirna listened to the names of a number of gods being taken in vain in the next room, the thump of a rug being rolled up, the clatter of a bucket being set down, and the steady plink-plink-plink of the leak dripping into it. Sirna would have invoked the weather goddess herself, except that this weather seemed more likely to have been a gift of Lyklos, god of lies and practical jokes.

To do Lyklos as much justice as the Trickster ever deserved, it wasn't entirely the fault of the rainy weather that the University Study Team hadn't long since been on its way to Nostor Town. If they'd just had to transport themselves and their personal possessions, riding horses and pack mules would have done the job well enough. Sirna's buttocks and thighs ached at the mere thought of long days in the saddle, but she had to admit that only a few of them would have taken her and her companions to Nostor.

However, the University had to transport not only their nearly complete set of blacksmithing tools, but their specialized Zygrosi foundry equipment, too. That meant a load running over a hundred tons, which in turn meant a fair-sized train of wagons and carts, since at best the Zarthani covered wagons could transport about twenty tons each. They also had food and clothing and provisions for the Foundry workers and teamsters. All that meant waiting until the roads were passable-sometime next spring. No number of draft horses and ox teams that the Great King could spare would be able to haul the foundry train to Nostor over roads knee-high in mud, and in another moon or two snow.

If the Foundry crew traveled light, they would arrive sooner but would need four to five moons to build everything from scratch. Due to massive unemployment in Nostor, Kalvan wanted the new Foundry built there, rather than expanding the old one. It was Eldra's opinion that Kalvan wanted it closer to the Harphax City, where he would need it once the city fell.

There the matter settled-and the University Kalvan Study Team as well, trapped ten miles outside Hostigos Town and trying to fight boredom and cabin fever without drinking too much or interfering with their Hostigi workers.

Sirna decided that she was in the mood for some fresh air, before anybody missed her and came looking to dragoon her into a floor-mopping brigade. She knew the fresh air would be at least half water and the ground more than half mud, but she didn't care. She slipped past the half-open door toward the wardrobe in the outer hall where the outdoor clothing hung.

The mud was even deeper than Sirna expected, and it took her nearly half an hour to make one circuit of the entrenchments around the foundry and storage buildings. By then the rain was beginning to soak through her outer clothing. Oiled leather was better than nothing, she admitted, but it was as heavy as a suit of armor, prone to crack and leak, foul-smelling wet or dry, and not really all that waterproof. If she stayed out here much longer, she'd pay for her fresh air by being soaked to the skin, and it would be just her luck for the Team leader to decide that one of the University team members should come down with a cold so as not to arouse suspicion of sorcery by undue immunity to disease!

At times like this Sirna sympathized with the idea of playing god-sent-teacher-to-the-unenlightened; at least one could wear sensible clothing and use First Level medicine.

In her half year on Kalvan's Subsector she'd reported no conditions of outtime contamination by Kalvan, yet Tharn-who sent her regular letters as Uncle T.-seemed inordinately happy with her posts. She couldn't figure out why. Most everything she'd reported could have been taken from a standard University Kalvan Study Team press release.

Why should she feel so obligated to follow Hadron's orders? True, if it hadn't been for his pull she never would have gotten such a high-prestige assignment, but he could hardly report her to the University for that. On the other hand, he could make trouble with her parents-who would certainly put politics above mere 'anarchistic familial ties'-as well as stifle her future career at Dhergabar University. Even though Hadron had been expelled after some sort of outtime fiasco involving the Paratime Police that nobody-even his supporters wanted to talk about-but his grants to the University were a major source of funding for outtime research.

And there was one more reason she would follow Tharn's orders until her assignment to Kalvan Prime was over-Hadron Tharn scared her to death. There was something in those dead eyes of his that told you he'd no more regret ending your life than that of some insect that happened to get in his way.

All her life Sirna had been dominated by men. First her father, who had really wanted a son, but lacked the will to defy her mother and who'd settled for a daughter who would follow in his footsteps. Then, when she became 'inconvenient,' dumped her into a University creche when her mother went outtime. Next, there was her husband who had wanted the appearance, but not the actuality of a wife. Now by Hadron Tharn, who wanted her to do his dirty work against Verkan Vail and the Paratime Police.