The Sheriff of Hnut
THE SHERIFF OF HNUT / CH. 1: ARRIVAL
Pre-contact discovery notes
New city and town-dwelling life found on planet 673GH3. This is yet another wet, Mars-sized planet on the edge of this star formation region. Most of the planet seems to be sea, and there's one continent and a few islands, which seem to be the result of recent volcanic activity. The planet orbits the close-binary stars with a local year of about 6 earth months. Local stellar radiation is approximately Earth-normal. The central stars comprise a white dwarf with about 0.5 solar masses, and an orange-yellow dwarf star (class K, 0.5 solar masses, 0.25 solar luminosity). There are two small moons.
The inhabitants seem to be warm-blooded, oviparous, wear clothes and have very obvious (assumption: sexual) dimorphism. One type has large ostrich-like feathers that come from the back of their head, the other type (gender?) has no such feathers, but a crest on their heads. Both features seem to grow after adult height is reached. Tentative hypothesis is that they correspond to sexual maturity.
Based on the samples seen so far, either the feathered type stay disproportionately inside and so out of sight or are outnumbered by the crested type by about 30%. On the first day, the probe witnessed several couples of locals (one of each type) depart from their respective houses together, go to (different) isolated spots and engage what looked very much like an extended courtship dance. Certainly there was a lot of caressing of these external features. At the end of the dance they raced back to their home. The dance began in the middle of the night, just after both moons had risen at about the same time, and the dances ended at different times, but before sunrise. Two weeks later, three eggs were displayed to visitors at the house of the couple who engaged in the longest dance, in the care of the feathered intelligence. Most village activity observed so far is conducted during the hours of daylight, or early evening. One exception to this is a gathering of people in what looked rather like a book-club meeting or bible study group. This activity took place outside a large building that was otherwise unused. The weather was fine and approximate calculations predict this is summer. Large life on the planet seems to be generally hexapodal, with avians having wings, feet, and grasping appendages used in nest-building and presumed mating activities. The intelligences have two pairs of hands.
A conflict was observed between two crested intelligences, whose crests were not as developed as those who appear to be part of family groups. Audible (challenge and response?) patterns were louder than normal conversation. One of the crested types was in the company of a feathered type, who quickly stepped away at the challenge of a larger newcomer. The conflict seemed to start as a shouting match, but moved on to what seemed to be a formal conflict. The feathered type ran to several nearby houses and adults came out but did not seem to intervene. Young who had been playing near houses were bustled inside. The conflict then moved forward in earnest, and weapons were offered by a number of crested adults. One fighter refused a number of spears from different adults and instead took a heavy-looking club. The smaller crested fighter, who had been talking to the feathered being at the beginning, appeared to refuse all offered weapons and took a knife from a pocket. The appearance of this knife seemed to have a dramatic effect, and the feathered being tried to interpose themself between the two fighters. My human interpretation was that the feathered one was pleading with the club-wielder to not fight, and/or the knife-wielder to not wound too deeply. The club-wielder pushed the feathered one away, apparently roughly, and seeming to threaten the feathered one. the knife-wielder demonstrated an astonishing turn of speed, and interposed themself between the club-holder and the feathered one. The feathered one left the immediate vicinity. An adult crested being gave some kind of verbal signal and the club was swung with considerable force. The knife wielder was able to avoid it easily. After several more swings, easily side-stepped, the knife wielder seemed to dance past the club-wielder and cut their belt. More verbal exchanges followed, followed by more ineffective club swings. The upper arms held the club, and the being's lower arms held up his trousers. There was no noticeable impairment of mobility or speed of swings, but they were far too slow to contact the much faster knife-wielder. A series of similar sequences continued, resulting in significant damage to the clothing of the club-wielder. Eventually, the club-wielder rushed the knife-wielder with a wind-milling club. The knife-wielder not only totally avoided the club once more, but wounded one (club-holding) wrist of the club-wielder, causing loss of control of the club. The club wielder persisted in attacking one handed, and after dancing around these further attacks the the knife-wielder addressed the crowd. The feathered being appeared to address the club wielder, who made a charge towards the feathered being with the club. Several members of the crowd moved to protect the feathered one (their reaction speed comparable to the club-wielder), and the knife wielder neatly hamstrung one leg of the club wielder, who fell to the ground. This seemed to end the conflict. The crowd seemed to bear the knife-wielder no ill-will, but all of those who had moved to protect the feathered one kicked mud at the fallen club-wielder. A similar conflict was later witnessed between a club-wielder and someone with a short spear. In that battle, the spear-wielder scored a hit to the abdomen of the club-wielder, and in the course of this attack received a blow to the head. The head-wound appeared to result in a crushed skull and death. The abdominal wound caused the 'victor' to collapse soon after. It was not evident what sparked this second conflict. There were feathered beings in the crowd, but no interaction between the crowd and the fighters during the fight, and no kicking of mud. After the battle, the wounded fighter received some kind of first aid, and the dead fighter was burred. Some kind of speech (sermon?) was given at the grave-side.
It is clear to me that these conflicts are an accepted part of the society, that they are carried out with deadly seriousness, and that the reaction-speed of the knife-wielder were somehow extremely unusual.
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CAPITAL CITY, 250(LOCAL) YEARS AFTER CONTACT WITH ALIENS
The commandant of the city guard looked Dirak up and down, and wasn't impressed. Dirak had a small crest, and his main-arms were weak-looking. Surely his sub-arms weren't strong. But on the other hand, there was the report in his own hands, written by his officers on the scene.... “Single handedly?”
“I was angry, sir. They just leapt out on the girl.”
“And you decided to leap to the rescue?”
“I don't want to hear I should have looked away. It was the right thing to do.”
“Oh, it was. Incredibly foolish, though. Most people would have thought that five were too many.”
“Actually... seven, sir. Two got away.”
“Was she pretty?”
“Yes, sir. As pretty as the suns in the sky after a month of fog.”
“And suitably grateful?” the officer asked with a certain amount of leer.
“I don't know who she was, which part of the city she lives in, even.”
“Hmph. So... you took on seven strong thugs, because they were intent on robbing a pretty girl.”
“I don't believe that robbery was their goal, sir. It might have possibly been an aggravated kidnapping, but the way that four of them were pinning her down while the others were ripping her clothes off....”
“Hold on... you said you saw them leap out on her?”
“I was... quite a long way away when I saw that bit, sir. Down the road, in my study. I should have been revising, but the tune she was whistling caught my attention.”
“I see, I think. You heard her, saw her, thought 'pretty', watched her feathers go down the street, then you saw her getting attacked, and ran to the rescue?”
“Yes, sir.”
The officer looked at the scene of crime report again. “At which point you ripped the door off it's hinges?”
“It was probably rotten. All it took was a kick.”
“And then you punched, kicked and gouged and hit out with a table leg like a madman and actually beat them?”
“I understand the word is like a zerker, sir. My maternal grandfather was a Zerker. It was the first time it's come over me.”
“A Zerker apprentice wizard,” the police captain said in amazement. Weak-looking arms wouldn't matter at a Zerker's speed. He'd heard tales... everyone had heard tales, of course, but the ones he'd heard were well researched. Even seven against a Zerker in full anger wasn't really an even match. “Not any more, sir.”
“But they let you keep your staff.” It wasn't often that he had someone with a wizard's staff in his office.
“Yes, sir. I made it anyway. Some on the council said there wasn't really much point in them taking it away, and that position won the day.”
“And you couldn't vow it would never happen again.”
“That would be a lie sir, I realised I cannot stand by and let the innocent suffer injustice. It would be wrong.”
“So much for the long-established ethic of non-intervention,” the officer laughed bitterly. “So.. they sent you to me. What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Make me a policeman, sir?” Dirak asked hopefully. “My vow of community service sort of fits.”
“No. A Zerker on the city watch? It'd be a disaster. I'm not talking prejudices, though they're real enough, I'm talking about discipline, morale, things like that. Your colleagues would probably try to let you do all the work. And with that staff in your hand? No, you're never going to be a policeman out on the city streets, young Dirak. You're going to have to have some kind of office job or be a sheriff out in some remote village. Or maybe you'd make a crime scene investigator? That could fit. We'll see how you do. Right now... basic training. What did you do with the staff when you were defending the girl?”
“Technically, sir, it was defending the girl, I was introducing the culprits to the idea of justice.”
“Justice is served by the courts, cadet Dirak.”
“Sorry, the idea of Citizen's justice.”
“And you gave the staff to the girl?”
“I planted it in the ground and made it form a protective barrier around her.”
“That's pretty advance wizarding for an apprentice, isn't it?”
“I was about to re-take my final exams, sir. I failed one of them last year.”
“Which one?”
“Philosophy and ethics,” Dirak replied.
“Hold on... how were you taking final exams if you were an apprentice?”
“I have a problem passing philosophy exams, sir. So technically I'm still an apprentice.”
“But you've been taking more advanced classes?”
“Yes, sir.” Considerably more advanced, but Dirak wasn't supposed to let on just what he'd studied.
“Don't tell anyone that. Tell them you were an apprentice, an old one because you kept failing your exams, and finally you got kicked out after getting into a fight over a pretty girl.”
“Certainly sir,” Dirak agreed readily. The fact that he was one philosophy exam away from being a fully trained wizard wasn't something to be flaunted. Even though his training in wizarding had hardly played a part at all, what he'd done counted as intervention. And wizards had decided and declared they wouldn't intervene.
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ON THE ROAD, MOTHERDAY, 253 AFTER ALIENS
Three years later
Tired and dusty from the travel, Dirak reached the top of the hill and reined in the thlunk that was plodding on underneath him. It was a reliable beast, and had carried him the last two weeks without complaint, but it wasn't the fastest. There was the Utt river valley below him, with the village just at the bottom of the slope, as he'd been promised in the town he'd stayed in the previous night. His future home; the village of Hnut, or 'Ho on Ut' as it was called on some piece of ancient parchment in the city. Dirak wasn't sure what 'Ho' meant, maybe just a name. His future home. He rolled the idea around his mind. It would be nice to have a permanent home.
Maybe, down there somewhere, was his future wife too. He prayed for patience on that front too, but the thought he might meet her made him try to beat some of the journey dust off himself. It didn't work very well since there had been a shower earlier.
“Come on thlunk, let's move on.”
A child who had been idly throwing stones at a fence looked idly up at the road and saw him. Dirak waved with his staff in greeting, and the child bolted towards the church. Dirak guessed he'd been set to watch.
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It seemed the official welcoming committee consisted of the village priest and, deliberately lagging behind, the child Dirak had seen earlier. “You are our new sheriff?” the village priest asked, taking in Dirak's now-impressive crest, his uniform and his carved staff as he dismounted from the thlunk to greet him. The boy had said he'd seen a wizard, not the sheriff he'd been sent to watch for.
At Dirak's affirmative, he asked “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five, sir,” Dirak replied.
“We're a God fearing village,” the priest started, preparing for his favourite diatribe on the evils of the big city, and how this young man had another thing coming if he expected anything like that here.
“I'm glad to hear so, sir. I was wondering when services are, sir. And is there by any chance a mid-week study?”
“What?” the priest asked, his crest fluttering in visible confusion.
“A mid week study? Less formal discussion about scriptures? Pooling our ignorance, as we used to say back home.”
“I know what a mid-week study is. Why do you want to know?”
“I'd like to attend, as is my custom.”
“You... are a believer?”
“You expected that they would send a heathen to your village, reverend pastor? Your firm requests were heard, almost all of them were fulfilled. They did not send you an unbeliever, not did they send someone on a temporary posting, nor I hope, did they send you a bumbling idiot.”
“But you're not married?” the pastor asked. That the sheriff come with a wife had been the last request.
“No, I am not a married man. Not that I have objections to that entering that happy state.”
“You hope to find a wife, then?” the priest asked, “here?” Dirak thought he looked somewhat bemused.
“I have met a few young men my age who feel called to singleness, sir. I am not one of them. But so far I've not met the right girl.”
“Well, you've got a more limited choice round here than you had in the city that's certain. What are you doing with that staff, if it's not a rude question.”
“I made it when I was a teen. I've found it useful from time to time. Keeping off felons, keeping growlers off on this journey, for instance.”
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“You carved yourself a pretend wizard's staff? Aren't there laws against that?”
“I've never been told so,” Dirak replied, “Nor read anything in all the law books, neither.”
“Hmm. The law. Are there changes?”
“Always, your reverence, in minutiae, and some trends have continued. Some taxation changes. Things that were frowned upon have become illegal, some things that were looked on with distaste are further limited, and so on. The question I have is when the village last heard of changes. It is perfectly normal to assume that you are out of date, but how out of date?
“Since last year, the marriage age is unchanged. But since a decade ago? This matters, reverend. As sheriff, I must apply the law, but I can be far more lenient when those who break the law do so in ignorance.”
“You believe in lenience, then sheriff?”
“I do not believe in upsetting my new neighbours too much, reverend. Unless you have heard from the city recently, some of the changes will affect you.”
“How recently?”
“The one I am thinking of, two years.”
“Three years ago, I received an update on laws affecting the faithful. I have not heard since.”
“I assumed as much. Reverend... I warn you, I expect there will be people who are not happy with all the changes.”
“Myself included?”
“How much contact have you had with wizardry, Reverend? Do you fear it? Do you understand it is not a spiritual force?”
“Preaching against is is illegal?”
“It has been for a decade, reverend. The penalties have risen, however. Significantly.”
“I understand enough that it is a tool in the hands of fallible people. I also heard... three years ago, of someone being protected from thugs by an apprentice wizard. Is it also illegal to preach against their normal non-intervention?”
“You may freely preach what you wish on the ethics or morality of those who walk by and allow others to suffer, reverend. As long as you distinguish between the things they study which are merely a tool, and the concern that drives non-intervention — that they will intervene in such a way that causes far greater suffering in the long term. But I think the greatest challenge for your flock is that this village — all villages — will be expected to host a competition, to see if there are any suitable candidates to take up wizarding. Someone has realised that half the population lives in villages, but four-fifths of wizards are from the city.”
The pastor sucked his breath in through his teeth. “To lose a child to the city? To send them into that moral cess-pit?”
“Not all parts are equally bad. But yes, the apprentice quarters are not in the nicest part of town. There is some scope for the village to decide additional criteria. One frequently quoted example would be that a village might decide it would never send the only child of a widow. But there can be no exceptions once such by-laws are passed. All deemed capable should be examined, male or female, rich or poor.”
“But the village could decide to only send those who have impeccable moral standards?”
“It would be possible. But... do they only have impeccable standards because they're afraid of being caught out? It's sometimes difficult to tell, and faced with a city full of temptation, some people change.”
“Yes. And we value our children's innocence. What happened to the apprentice, do you know?”
“They kicked him out, found him another role; He was determined that he had done the correct thing.”
“He did. Entirely.”
“I'm not so sure. Afterwards he realised that he could have rescued the young woman without breaking nearly so many heads.”
“There are always might-have-beens. Do you know him?”
“Yes, sir.”
The pastor looked once more at the staff.
“But that's not a wizard's staff?”
“No sir,” Dirak said, “I'm sure I'd know, since I made it. And I'm sure a wizard's staff wouldn't show the mark of where it cracked open the head of a growler.”
“What would a wizard do confronted with a growler pack?”
“I believe it's one of their examination questions, though that might just be an insulting rumour. If it is a rumour then the correct answer depends on whether the growler pack is after the wizard or his or her travelling companion.”
“There are female wizards?”
“Yes reverend, and they are allowed to marry. They are allowed to intervene in the lives of their husband and any offspring they are blessed with, but not using any wizarding abilities.”
“You seem somewhat scornful of the law of non-intervention.”
“It is not a law, good Reverend. It is an ethic that the wizards have chosen and impose on one another. They have their reasons, but what was a once a useful guiding principle of keeping out of political debates has become a hard-hearted tradition they apply to even common decency. Forgive me... you do not need a sermon on helping one's neighbour from me.”
“You are more familiar with them than us, good sheriff. They do not come this far from the city.”
“Not on foot, no. And they would not normally deliver messages as that would be intervening. One will come in a year or two, to assess any candidates.”
“Here?”
Dirak looked around. “Is that field always empty?”
“The fair pasture? It's never sown, but sometimes grazed.”
“Well, I expect they'll arrive there, or the town square. And I doubt they'll stay for a whole day. There are not so many wizards, and a no shortage of semi-isolated villages.”
“We rejoice that you have come, sheriff.”
“Really?” Dirak knew that his presence meant another mouth to feed. He would try not to be totally unproductive on the food front.
“I rejoice, anyway. It is not good for the village's confessor to also be the one judging disputes or solving mysteries.”
“Are there unresolved disputes? Or mysteries to solve? I worked in the investigations department in the city before I was assigned here.”
“Investigations?”
“With the right tools — my packs have them — it is possible to determine if blood on a knife is from a person or an animal, or who last held a club, assuming they wore no gloves. Perhaps even who last touched a boundary stone, if it was recent.”
“Ah. And can you also tell poison from infection?”
“It depends on the poison, but sometimes. What are the symptoms?”
“The most noticeable symptom was death. Your two predecessors. The similarities.... it is just my personal lurking suspicion you understand.”
“But it may be that someone did not take kindly to them?”
“I think it is fair to say that some of their attitudes did not go down well. They did not look at this village as a home, but as a necessary inconvenience.”
“I know the type of person, they wish to grow their crests at the expense of others. But to suggest they were killed, reverend...”
“As I say, just a private suspicion. The first died after six months. The second, after a year and a quarter, just after he told us he was leaving. Both had just visited the town. Both apparently complained of a headache when they got home, which is not unusual on the journey. Neither woke the next morning. Both had their admirers and detractors. Beyond that, I do not know. They may have left relevant records in town, but I did not have the authority or sufficient justification to search.”
“And no one else has died in the same way?”
“No.”
“Both were city people, I presume?”
“Yes.”
“And it was summer?”
“Yes.”
“And on the way from town, no-one sane would think to cool themselves in the waterfall I saw, I presume?”
“The sulphur springs? Never! You think... surely they'd not be so foolish!”
“In the city, there are cooling baths. Some look quite like your sulphur springs. I saw them, but I recognised the smell, and did not approach. Not a healthy place to be for long.”
“Certainly not! I am relieved, sheriff. Most relieved! It never occurred to me!”
“I am glad to be of service.” Dirak said. He didn't feel the need to mention that he'd seen tracks there. Signs that juveniles, probably juvenile females, from the tracks, frequented the place. Juveniles were significantly less sensitive to sulphur than adult males or growlers; girls were practically immune, which is why it made a safe place for girls to hang out, perhaps even bathe. Some things went without saying, if you were village-bred like Dirak. He wondered, however, if his predecessors had been lured there by some girls with a very nasty streak or had gone by their own misguided thoughts. In either case he was prepared to consider it death by misadventure.
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THE VILLAGE MEETING, HNUT, MOTHERDAY
“Good people of Hnut,” Dirak said, “I present myself, I present my permanent commission as sheriff to this village, and I present a letter of recommendation from the pastor of my old congregation. In presenting myself I make known to you that I was named Dirak by my parents, my father was Mungar son of Yangar and Dinga, my mother was Hana daughter of Zerker Hiniq and Razatha of the village of Qnut.” Qnut was not very far away, perhaps a day's walk. Maybe he had relatives here. Hopefully there was no residual blood feud. As sheriff, he ought to be excluded, but it would still be awkward. “I, Pastor Ruath, welcome our new Sheriff, I remind my fellow villagers that it is a requirement of this ceremony that the sheriff present any link he may have to our village or cause for feud, and thus presented, none may blame him as he forgets these previous troubles as he becomes one of us. I also remind you that in God there is no blood feud. I ask, Sheriff, for the sake of saving us all from rumours, does your mention of your maternal grandfather indicate that you have ever found your movements sped by his legacy?”
“On my way here, pastor Ruath, as my thlunk and I were passing through the mountain pass, I was set upon by a pack of six growlers. None will trouble another traveller, unless he or she has a sensitive nose or strays from the path and so trips over their carcasses.” A murmur passed through the crowd. One man beating six growlers was an impressive feat, even if the thlunk probably took out one or two with its tail-club. “I am Gakak. Might we know the weapons you used?”
It was the perfect opportunity, Dirak decided, to say why he had the staff he did. “I cut this stick I carry when I was almost a teenager. Searching for the wood took me some time, for it is of straight angar wood, as are the staffs of wizards, and the best ploughs were back home of course. I carved it in my spare time, as I understand trainee wizards do. If the children are interested, then some long boring winter's evening I will explain my carvings, for they tell a story that is worth them being reminded of. Some burglars and thugs have thought it was a wizard's staff, which gave them pause, and so helped me to arrest them. But this is no wizards' staff, I think I ought to know, as I made it myself! And I carved its name upon it myself, it is called intervention, which I think you'll agree is not something anyone would call a wizard's staff.” He waited for the laughter to die down before continuing. “But intervention makes a good tool for walking and helping old people stand up and a good tool for stopping growlers, burglars or thugs. Now you know what I used, though I do not think of it as a weapon, I've never trained to use a sword or a bow, I'm no hunter nor soldier. But this lump of wood and metal is a good tool, and I don't like to leave it behind in case I might need it.”
“Does it let you do anything else, beyond tell a good story, kill growlers and confuse criminals?” The speaker had piercing violet eyes, and her head plumage was even bluer than Dirac's mother's had been. Her voice would have had a pleasant tone, if it wasn't also dripping with quite so much suspicion.
“My daughter, Lenepoli,” Pastor Ruath supplied. “One of the two unmarried girls in the village.”
“Ah, fair Lenepoli, you are perhaps asking why a young male might want a stick twice his height which he could carefully climb to reach the branches of his mother's red-fruit tree? It's been a long time since I tried to do that, and I've put on some weight too. Allow me to practice, please, before you ask for a public demonstration of why only straight angar wood would do.”
“Oh, I don't insist on it being public, Sheriff. But tell me, do you recognise this tune?” she whistled the tune her friend had been whistling just before Dirak had rushed to her rescue. The tune that Lenepoli had been following, as she tried to catch up with her.
“How could I not?” Dirak asked after she finished the first stanza. “My grandmother was from Qnut and taught my mother.” With an impish smile he asked “I don't know what your father will say, but are you publicly inviting me to sing the refrain back to you?” It was a love-song, from that village, and Lenepoli suddenly blushed as she realised what she'd done. She'd been focussed so intently on proving to her own satisfaction that she did recognise her friend's saviour, that she'd just fuelled the next year's worth of rumours. Spluttering, she said “I was merely checking, Sheriff. Forgive my suspicious nature for not really believing you might be a distant cousin.”
“I hope you do not allude to some old family feud.”
“None I know of, Sheriff.”
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Dirak found himself invited to the pastor's house for the evening meal, and a mortally embarrassed Lenepoli tried to avoid him as much as possible. But she couldn't; as soon as they'd sat down to eat, her parents' eyes fixed on her.
“Lenepoli, will you explain your questioning of our new sheriff?” her mother asked, “I know you've said you're not husband chasing, but it certainly looked like it.”
“Must I explain myself, mother? I wish to know the truth of a thought I have, which I presume he does not want public, given the way he dances verbal games. But I do not want to dance any more verbal games with the Sheriff; every time I ask a veiled question he turns it to make it look like I'm after him or fishing for compliments. I'm not. But I expect he will tell what I wanted to know if he wants to, and I'll never get it out of him otherwise.” She faced Dirak and demanded “I'm right, aren't I?”
“You are the second most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and the most beautiful I've spoken more than five words to. Does that answer your unspoken question?” Dirak replied, with a grin.
“See, mother? He does it again!”
“And you're not prepared to accept that? Is second place in his estimation not good enough?” her mother asked, totally misunderstanding.
“I know I'm in second place to Shashana in anyone sane's estimation,” Lenepoli said, “What I want to know is if Sheriff Dirak is the reason she's still alive and due to marry next week, but he turns my every question into my fishing for compliments!”
“I don't know anyone called Shashana.”
“She was rescued by an apprentice wizard. An apprentice wizard who looked very like you, Sheriff, as he shot past me in the street, and then let me get to her to comfort her, except your crest is far more impressive. Was it you?”
“Ah. A straight question! If it was me, beautiful Lenepoli, why would it be important for you to know? Have you taken a vow to publicly throw yourself at that ex-apprentice wizard? That would be most embarrassing, I think, as we do not know each other. Or have you a deep-seated anti-wizardry prejudice that means you'd never listen to another word I said If I were he? Equally sad, since I've things I must explain to everyone here in the village. I've told your father that I do know who the infamous apprentice is, if I say I'm not him, have you developed such a hero-worship for the mysterious stranger that you'll never speak to me again unless I introduce you to him? That would be sad too, because while I admit I've had fun twisting your questions, I've certainly not been trying to hurt you, just tease. Perhaps one day, as we get to know each other better, I might decide that your inner beauty is an great as you outer beauty, and then I'd have life-changing questions of my own that you might seek to dance around for a while. But do you see how it is that I, a newcomer here, not knowing anyone, not knowing what lies behind questions prefer a certain amount of ambiguity?”
“I understand, and I have no need to know. I just hate mysteries.”
“But you present me with one. What were you doing in the city, three years ago? Other than almost getting your plumage trimmed by a zerking apprentice in his haste, I mean?”
“I was qualifying as teacher,” Lenepoli said.
“Ah. And as a trainee teachers, you and Shashana visited the museum?”
“Yes.”
“And confused by the symmetry, you left by the wrong door, and found yourselves in the wrong street to be innocently whistling the Qnut song, which has sadly taken on another meaning in that part of the city.”
“Another meaning?” Lenepoli asked.
“My mother was careful to warn us, when she taught it to my sister and me. In Drana district it is often whistled in low tones to those who frequent that place.” Drana district was one of the most heavily policed part of the city, but the police presence did little good; all manner of illegal trade continued.
“No one warned us!”
“I expect if you'd whistled it around the teacher training college, few would have known; what contact do they have with Drana? And Wizards do not intervene in non-wizarding affairs.”
“But your mother knew?”
“My parents lived a time in Drana. It was not as bad then as it is now; and even now, not everyone there is a criminal, most are simply poor. Once they found work, they moved, once they were established, they moved to Reqiq, where my mother had a red-fruit tree.”
“Reqiq is a sad name, these days..” pastor Ruath said. The village had been obliterated by a landslide. “Yes. It was a happy place to be a child. My parents, my remaining grandma, and my sister were at home, I was studying in the city when it happened.”
Lenepoli put all her hands to her mouth. “No! Your whole family?”
“My whole family, and I have no cousins I know of.” Dirak replied. “I am glad the hills here are not steep. I did not sleep well crossing the mountains.”
“I apologise for our curiosity, Sheriff Dirak.” Lenepoli's mother said, “but new members of the village are rare, except by marriage. Village attitudes... people assume they have a right to know all about everyone, and we will ourselves be quizzed about you. May we make it known that your family was lost in Reqiq?”
Dirak nodded. “And you may also tell, if you wish, of the sad use of the Qnut song in the most disreputable part of the city, and that Lenepoli embarrassed herself by whistling it to me because she was wondering if she'd seen me in the city. I would prefer however if her suspicions are not circulated. Perhaps it is also better if the exact song that Shashana was whistling on the edge of Drana just before she was attacked is not circulated.”
“But you know what she whistled,” Lenepoli said with a gasp.
“It is easy for one friend to tell another why he looked out of a window, fair Lenepoli, and why he kept on looking at one as beautiful as the blue sky over mountain peaks after weeks of fog.”
“Shashana's plumage is no longer as blue as it was,” Lenepoli's mother said, “the fear or the attack, perhaps.”
“Perhaps. But I've not heard of that affecting plumage. Sulphur poisoning does, of course. I hope your friend has given up such childish activities, Lenepoli.”
“So do I,” she agreed with a surprised glance at him.
“'Given up?' Sheriff, what do you mean , 'given up'? Are you suggesting that the girls of villages around here play in the sulphur springs?”
“My sister and her friends did, Reverend. My mother said she did also, when she was young. I assumed it went without saying that such habits pass naturally from generation to generation. And to young girls, it does no harm I'm aware of, and some good as neither growlers nor sensible males venture near sulphur.”
“And foolish males?” the priest asked.
“Learn reason,” his wife said, “hopefully before they harm our girls or kill themselves. But you know what boys are like; a quarter die before becoming parents. I would rather that selection happened because of foolishness rather than blood-feud or a duel over a girl.”
“Especially as causing a death by duelling is now a crime,” Dirak said.
“Do I assume, Sheriff, that the ex-apprentice who may or may not be in this room now was not accused of any crime?”
“Your friend's testimony and that of 'a bystander' were sufficient. Did you testify?”
“I did,” Lenepoli said. Dirak remembered, amongst the chaos, another girl coming, asking him to let her comfort her friend. Demanding it after kicking the nearest thug out of the way.
“And you didn't get in trouble for giving the groaning thugs the odd kick?”
“Who said I did?”
“Probably no one said anything,” he smiled, 'it being hard to speak with a broken jaw. Citizen's justice has limits though. Sufficient force as needed to remove all threat from an aggressor, but no punishment beyond that. That remains the prerogative of the court.”
“Sheriff, are you implying that I might have been tempted to go beyond what the law permits?”
“I am sure you were tempted, Lenepoli. Anyone would be who wasn't terrified into inaction. I'm not saying you gave in, I'm just... educating as the matter came up, as is my duty.”
“What punishment did they receive from the courts?” Pastor Ruath asked.
“They were found guilty for attempted gang-rape. The wife of one applied for a stay of execution upon her husband until she could have a child with him. A week was given.”
“Just a week? Was it breeding season?” Lenepoli asked.
“She was instructed how to harvest and preserve his sperm. The court decided that was sufficient.”
“And then execution?” Pastor Ruath asked.
“No. It was only attempted rape.”
“Father, the law says that a rape-attempter will longer capable of reproduction, and no longer have a crest,” Lenepoli said. “But I don't know if that's done surgically, or how.”
“Do you wish to know? I don't want to spoil your meal,” Dirak said.
“Perhaps later?” Lenepoli's mother suggested.
“Certainly.”
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