L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

Rahl disagreed with that-violently-but there wasn’t any point in saying so. The idea that he might have to consort Jienela because she’d been the one who wanted to sleep with him was wrong. He’d even tried to make sure that she didn’t end up with child. And now, his mother, his own mother, was telling him that he might have to consort a girl she’d not wanted him to consort.

“Your father should be here in a moment. I thought I saw him heading up from the harbor. He’s not going to be pleased.”

That was an understatement, Rahl knew, and he certainly didn’t want to talk to his father about Jaired and Jienela, but there was no help for that.

Within a few moments, Kian stepped into the workroom. His eyes went from Khorlya to Rahl and back to his consort. “What’s the matter?”

Khorlya shook her head. “Jienela’s brother was here. He wants Rahl to consort Jienela because he slept with her.”

Kian looked at Rahl.

Rahl could feel the combination of anger and sadness. There wasn’t much to say. “She took me by surprise. It was her idea, and after that I broke it off as quick as I could.”

“That doesn’t help much.” Kian’s words were hard and condemnatory.

“Ser…I didn’t know much about women…”

“You were told. You were warned.” Kian’s voice increased in volume. “All you had to do was keep your trousers on and call on Bradeon’s daughter. But no, first you play in the orchard and then you start visiting the chandlery. You don’t think I didn’t hear about that, too.”

“I never even kissed Fahla,” Rahl retorted, “and I did what you wanted.”

“It was a little late for that,” Kian said sourly. “You may have made your future far harder than it ever had to be. You might even have to consort a girl who has nothing and never will.”

“Why?” asked Rahl. “She was the one who encouraged me.”

“You let her. It takes two, as you should have discovered,” replied Kian sadly.

“But she-”

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand? If someone tells you to hit someone with your truncheon and steal his wallet, does that make it all right?”

“No…but I didn’t hurt anyone, and I didn’t steal. If anything, she’s trying to steal what I might do.”

“Most people won’t see it that way, not in Recluce. All you had to do was to say no.”

All he had to do? When she’d been taking his clothes off and kissing him?

“Your mother and I will talk it over, and then we’ll see what can be done. We might be able to get one of the magisters to look into it. There are precedents…but I wouldn’t count on that.”

“What about tomorrow?” asked Rahl. “I was supposed to call on Shahyla.”

“Yes, you were, but this…” Kian frowned. “Have you told anyone else?”

“No, ser. Jaired was just here.”

The scrivener nodded. “We still might have a chance…” He looked at Khorlya.

She said nothing.

“If you can keep your trousers on and promise Shahyla nothing, ” replied Kian, “then a simple visit can’t make matters any worse than you have. Or has she encouraged you as well?”

Rahl flushed. “No. Nothing like that.” He could feel that his mother didn’t agree with his father about visiting Shahyla, but she said nothing.

“You can finish the page you were copying before supper. Your mother and I have some talking to do. And you aren’t going out tonight, not anywhere.”

Rahl had already figured that out, and right now he didn’t need to do anything else to get them even more upset.

On eightday morning, Rahl was careful to say nothing that was not deferential and polite, and he was scrupulous about doing his chores and straightening and cleaning the workroom. Only when he was certain that he had done everything required did he wash up and prepare for the long walk to Bradeon’s holding to see Shahyla.

As Rahl was preparing to leave, his mother appeared with a plain basket, containing two bundles-one of brinn and one of sage.

“Herders can always use brinn and sage, and Bradeon’s a practical man.” Khorlya looked at Rahl. “Your father and I don’t agree about this, but it may be that you won’t have to consort Jienela. I don’t see how we can avoid that, but…he thinks he may be able to work something out. Don’t promise anything to Shahyla today, and don’t say anything about Jienela. And for darkness’ sake, don’t make matters worse. Keep all your clothes on.”

Rahl laughed, ruefully. “That won’t be a problem. Either her father or her brother is always near.”

“Smart girl. Smarter than you deserve,” observed Khorlya. “You might be fortunate, at that, but don’t count on it yet.”

Rahl bit back what he might have said. “I could use that fortune.”

“Yes, you could, son, but you may be one of those who has to learn things for himself.” After a moment, she added, “Go on. You might as well enjoy the day, as you can.”

Rahl nodded. “I’ll be back before sunset.”

“That would be good.”

As he stepped out through the front door, he could sense her concern and sadness.

All because of Jienela’s brother? And because Jienela had wanted Rahl? Somehow, it didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t as though he’d done anything to hurt anyone, or that he’d done anything that she hadn’t wanted. And then, his mother saying that he had to learn things for himself, as if he had no brains at all, as if he never listened. He’d listened, and he knew all about women and their times of the month. He’d done his best, and because things hadn’t gone as they were supposed to, everyone was blaming him.

Still, because he didn’t want to risk seeing Jaired-or Jienela-he took the path through the edge of the protected forest that came out farther to the south, well past Alamat’s. That meant he had to walk several hundred cubits farther, then cut back. All in all, it added a good half kay to his walk, but the last thing he wanted was to see either Jienela or one of her brothers.

Although the day was pleasant, with only a scattering of puffy white clouds in the green-blue sky and a light breeze at his back, Rahl only encountered a few wagons and riders on the High Road, and no one else on foot. That was not surprising, because the road was not that heavily traveled on end-days.

It was slightly past midday by the sun when he started up the lane to Bradeon’s holding. Before long, he could see Shahyla standing on the porch, waiting for him, but this time, she left the porch and strode down the path to meet him. As she passed the geese, they stopped their hissing. She was graceful enough, he noted, but in a muscular fashion. She was clearly a herder.

“I hoped you’d come today.” Shahyla smiled warmly.

Rahl handed her the basket. “It’s more practical-brinn and sage.”

“That’s wonderful! I’ve never had the knack of growing brinn, and there’s never enough sage for the sausage. Father will be very pleased.” She laughed ruefully. “I think Semmelt would have preferred another honey cake or the apple bread you brought last time. He ate most of them.”

They turned and walked back up to the house and onto the shaded porch.

“Would you like some ale?”

“Yes, please.”

Rahl settled himself on the bench while Shahyla took the basket inside. Within moments, she returned carrying two of the tankard mugs. She handed one to Rahl, then settled onto the bench beside him.

“I’m glad you came. It’s so nice to have something special to look forward to at the end of the eightday.”

“So am I.” Rahl was halfway surprised to realize that he meant the words. “How are you doing?”

She offered a half-smile and a shrug. “There’s always more to be done than we can do. It took longer than he’d thought for Father to replace the broken pipes to the troughs. We lost a calf to a flux, and we had to pay a healer to check the others. She found one other with it, and we put it in a separate pen. Semmelt isn’t sure whether it will live.”