THE SHERIFF OF HNUT / CH. 18: APOLOGIES

DIRAK'S LIBRARY, FATHERDAY, 7TH WINTER, 4PM

“Hello Yalb,” Sithini said, looking up from the desk in Dirak's library, where he saw she was fiddling with something that looked distinctly wizardy. “Thanks for coming. I hope Lenepoli's told you I'm really a green, just with confusing feathers. I'm not crossing colours, OK?”

“Yes, I understand entirely.”

“Good. I Just didn't want you to think you were here for anything else. Right, this is my friend Lanthi, who's taking an optional architecture course for her ISC.”

“If only...” Yalb said, wistfully.

“And knowing that, I asked her what she thought of these designs of yours and ... after that it gets complicated, and I'll leave her to apologise.”

“The ultra short version; the guild architect says he's not interested in coming any more, all because I goofed big time and didn't listen to Sithini. Mum says you're allowed to shout at me but please don't hurt me, since I'm the only heir and not officially adult yet. Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“See?” Sithini said, “You can tell she's a pure-blooded-red, can't you? I'd never say it like that; my brain hurts already. Be nice to each other, if anyone comes for Dirak, he ought to be back later. I'm off.”

“The only heir?” Yalb asked, as Sithini gripped her staff and disappeared.

“Sorry about the anti-teasing feather-dye, it was supposed to wash out in one wash. You have the extreme honour of lambasting Lanthithanapoli, daughter of Keldithanapoli heir to the empty throne for showing your plans to people without permission.”

“You showed my plans to a guild architect?” Yalb asked.

“I wanted to see them properly, so I snatched them out of Sithini's hands and laid them out in the college dining hall. Big tables, you know? Then Ranth came in, you know Ranth right?”

“Yalinth zapped him in effigy with snowballs.”

“Better that than with the real weapon, not that we've got the lungs for it. I tried once; mum wasn't impressed at all.”

“Pardon?”

“Shooting with the thing Yalinth was pretending to zap Ranth with. The aliens left one for the wizardry museum. I see what Sithini means, this isn't exactly a carefully structured apology, is it. Sorry.”

“You tried using a museum piece?”

“I know, I know, I was irresponsible, etc.” Lanthi said.

“I see a pattern.”

She took a deep breath, “Yalb, I'm a teenager, I'm noble-blooded, do you want to start a fight?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Because right now, I have you at a disadvantage, seeing as you owe me an apology, and I also have an advantage over all the rest of the guys that think you must either be some kind of strange cross-breed to have purple feathers, or a dumb orange. I like those advantages.”

“What are you saying?”

“Do you know how many girls there are in this village who don't have at the very least an understanding with someone that they're planning courtship when they're older?”

“No.”

“None between fifteen and fifty. Except you of course, since you're here.”

“There's going to be a massive percentage increase when the apprentices come up.”

“Maybe. How many are pure-blood, though?”

Lanthi's eyes opened wide; “You're pure-blooded?”

“People don't cross colours around here much. Certainly not us Yants.”

“You're a Yant? Mum made me read 'a history of the Yatt valley' last night. I thought it was just, like, an introduction to the village, or something. She was plotting.”

“I am Yalb, youngest child of Yathin, daughter of Yanepoli of Hnut. Dad is Torg of the Tan, son of Talina.”

“You had me worried for a moment, but Talina's not a cousin. My father is Kand of the Keleds,” Lanthi replied.

“That's a long way away.”

“Mother tries to follow traditions if they don't get in the way. She put wizardry to use and went to Keld to ask around. As for me, forget that tradition: the Lanthins are dead and not particularly mourned.”

“Have you heard of Rangar?”

“Strongest male in the county, I hear.”

“His father was a sane Lanthin, who renounced blood-feuds and fled here. My big sister Yagah has a real thing for muscles, and married his only son, Gert.”

“So, there is a Lanthin-relative, but he's not available. And anyway, mum says she doesn't want to take the risk and would have vetoed anything.”

“Really? I was going to say that Rangar does have a couple of nephews...”

“Banned; Mum would probably disinherit me or something if I took up with any descendent from that line. Too much bellicosity on her side of the family already.”

“Wow.”

“What does wow mean, in this context?” Lanthi asked.

“You've just pronounced my two arch-rivals for your affections totally unacceptable.”

“And you didn't fancy a trial of strength against some Lanthins?”

“Do I look that dumb?”

“No, you seem pretty smart to me,”

“Yagah calls me a disgrace to my breeding.”

“Yagah sounds like she got dropped on the head too many times. Without too much offence meant.”

“Can I tell her you said that?”

“Female duels have been banned for centuries, Yalb, you know that.”

“Might be fun to watch you pluck each other, though; but assume I should take that as a no, then?”

“Probably safer. She'd probably look funny plucked. And then mum would pluck me too, probably. I know Grandma plucked her when she plucked someone.”

“Really?” He asked, shocked.

“Were you genuinely hoping to see me and your sister trying to pluck one another, or were you just teasing?”

“This is one of those questions where I could lie and feel guilty or tell the truth and feel useless. Brutal honesty, let's get it in the open: I don't find it an exciting thought, at all. I can act like I do, but it's an act. By preference I'd be trying to get you to stop, but maybe actually I'd be hiding somewhere far away, waiting for Dirak to arrest us all. I try to avoid fights, not because they're tempting but wrong, just because I don't like fighting.”

“Noble innate bellicosity really did skip you, didn't it?”

“Sorry.”

“Grandma said the only solution to innate bellicosity is to undo the breeding programme or abdicate, and that abdicating is the coward's way out.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Urm...”

“The reason my feathers are purple is it that there is only a certain amount of 'watch out, she's going to pluck you' that I can take before I start thinking about ripping their throats out and writing 'it's not a joke, idiots' in their blood. I'm no coward.”

“I wasn't going to accuse you of it. I'm just wondering if by that you mean...”

“I mean, that if some other girl starts paying you too much attention, tell her she is on dangerous ground, and I don't think a female in my line has backed away from a challenge in four centuries.”

“Are you saying...?”

“You're not finishing many sentences at the moment,” Lanthi said.

“Sorry, expectations. I've just revealed my biggest flaw and you're reacting like I've just said I own the most productive mines in Qnut.”

“Yalb, you own something better than a mine. You've got /desirable genetics/. If you think there is some way that we couldn't possibly get on, then tell me. Otherwise please assume that pretty soon there's going to be informal understanding between us, assume that I fully intend to speak to my mother about your lack of bellicosity, and then assume when my parents speak to your parents, then such things as personal preference are going to be lower on the agenda than things like constitutional necessity, dynastic future, and the like.”

“You make it seem very cold and calculating.”

“Don't worry, there's plenty of time for it to get warm and romantic. Do you think you could get used to the idea of falling in love with me?”

“I was planning to ask you that. I'm pretty sure I could, yes.”

“Likewise.” Lanthi said, “So, shall we agree that we plan on doing that?”

“Just like that? Reach an understanding now?” he was shocked again.

“Well, it's a bit soon, but just think, if we do then we've just saved you from ever getting in a fight over who's going to court me. Does that appeal?”

“Very much. I think could forgive you quite a lot for that.”

“Even me asking you to be the official architect on the school?”

“What?”

“That's in part two of my apology. But first, I understand that unless we decide we hate each other, you're going to court me when we're old enough.”

“I understand that too, Lanthithanapoli.”

“And if any other boy wants to argue about it, I'll happily shred his crest for the insult to me. Back to the apology. Ranth showed your plans to the guild architect, who said 'if you've already got an architect, stop wasting my time.' Ranth said you weren't an architect. Guild architect said, 'hmm, well, OK, he's not a great architect, and the style's a bit old fashioned for here in the city, but he's read the right books and got a lot of talent, and everyone's allowed to make some mistakes somewhere, like those corridors and doorways are too narrow, and there's probably someone who'd take him on as a journeyman if he wants to join the guild, but not me, I'm too busy. And anyway, Hnut is too far and there's no decent rock up there, and as for that newfangled stuff you're so proud of, if it's as strong as you say, you can build anything you like out of it. Now I've got some clients that really do need me, good bye.' And started walking off. Ranth asked 'but will this stand up if we made it out of stone?' and the architect said, 'as long as the foundations are good, of course it will, you faithless fool! Huh, wizards with their stupid apprentice questions, I don't know.' And walked off. Which by my reckoning makes you the official guild-appointed architect.”

“But... they were just sketches I did during the Longnight discussion!”

“If you'd like to refine your sketches, then I'm sure that the wizarding community will be thankful. Ranth has a few ideas he'd like to discuss with you, as do half the rest of the wizards, I expect. But but careful, Ranth is going to be in charge of making the crystal, and he's a literalist. If you end up drawing the corridor half a step wide then that's how wide he'll make it, and he'll assume you've got a very significant structural motive for it, and not just that I was distracting you.”

“But... it's just a dream!”

“Congratulations! Three dreams fulfilled in one day.”

“Three?”

“You've come to an understanding with a very noble girl, and you're going to be an architect.”

“That's only two.”

“I've found someone who's neither put off by my purple feathers nor inherently bellicose nor brain-dead. How old are you, by the way?”

“Eighteen.”

“Good. I'm seventeen. What have you been doing since you finished school? I'm just asking because my mum'll hit the roof if she learns we reached an understanding and I don't know.” she added with a grin at her own recklessness.

“I've been managing the accounts.”

“Urm, expand, please?”

“Grandma owns some mines in Qnut, miners are employed, foremen are paid, product is sold, bills are paid. Through the wonders of things called accounts we work out if we're stinking rich, heading for utter poverty or somewhere in between.”

“And?” Lanthi prompted.

“We'd probably be stinking rich if Rangar was the foreman, because he's honest and no one would dare to try to sneak anything past him. But normally you get honest foremen or intimidating foremen and not often both at the same time. So, we're somewhere in between.”

“What about your inspection visits?” she suggested.

“Strangely enough, when there's an owner's inspection, which is normally associated with the miners thinking that they might be out of a job soon, the speed of mining goes way down, but the quality of the ore goes up. And the workers say 'look, we've just found this really good seam, it's a bit narrow and hard to get too, though, if only we had a few more galleries to get at it better ...' ”

“I don't understand,” Lanthi said.

“They know exactly where the good ore is, because they mine that for their own pockets when they think they can get away with it. Normally, they're paid per cart of ore they dig up, though, so they dig out the poor stuff. If the owner tells them to dig an extra gallery, they're paid for digging stone, too, not just ore. And you'd look like a prize idiot if you sacked workers when they were saying that they'd found a new seam.”

“And there's no such thing as an honest miner?”

“Maybe, somewhere. Not in Qnut though. Yalinth heard me talking to grandma about it the other day. She said she'd go and tell all the bad ones to turn around and not die.”

“I can imagine them quaking in their boots, especially when she asks them to get her a nice full cart of the good ore, from the vein that so-and-so found. But I imagine the typical miner is fairly well muscled.”

“Yes.”

“Lift me up.” She said.

“Pardon?”

“Life me up. How long can you hold me up for?”

“Is this another thing your mum will ask?” He asked, complying.

“Maybe. Am I heavy?”

“No.”

“Have you held many girls up like this?”

“Yalinth once or twice. Not beautiful girls I'm planning to court though.”

“Oooh, a compliment. You're not struggling at all, are you?”

“I am a Yant, Lanthithanapoli.”

“Call me Lanthi.”

“Do you prefer it?”

“I'm used to it.”

“Because it seems better to be formal, at this stage of our understanding.”

“Can you do me a favour?”

“Ask.”

“You try holding up your sister like this, and see how long you can do it compared to... what was his name? Gert?”

“Why?”

“An idea. You're a Yant, Yalb. According to the book I was reading last night, you Yants are renowned for having good brains and deceptively strong muscles. Just so you know, my dad can't do this this long, and he's a Keled, and did his time on the boats.”

“Stamina isn't the same as brute force, Lanthithanapoli. You're not heavy.”

“It's odd to look down on your crest like this.” She reached out and touched it with her finger tips.

“Hey!” he said, putting her down, and stepping back.

“Sorry,” she said unrepentantly. “I was curious.”

“And should I stroke your feathers out of curiosity?” he asked, outraged.

“Not now your crest has gone that colour, no. I have tested your strength, Yalb, and I've tested your reactions, and I'm not at all disappointed. But I should have asked about your faith too, shouldn't I?”

“Yes. And I yours, especially after that... invasion of private space.”

“Yalb, I am sorry. I was curious how you'd react; with desire, or outrage or both.”

“And?”

“I saw a hint of desire when you started to speak of me being beautiful, and I spoke of your crest, turning to shock and anger when I touched it. I will try not to touch it again until my feathers have grown to maturity and we decide we can make promises to one another.

As to my faith, I committed my soul to the saviour's care when I was Yalinth's age, and have been learning that it is not always pleasant or easy to do what is right. Mostly that has been not striking, or guessing that a situation might dissolve into name calling and leaving before it did. Those temptations I can name, more recently I've been adding the temptation to despair that my mother would totally fail to find me someone who was noble and peace-loving but not a cousin, today I've added the temptations that come with having an admirer I like.”

“Have you had any you didn't like?”

“Not for long. For some reason boys get nervous when I tell them I'll shred their crests if they don't get lost.”

“I imagine that got rid of them pretty quickly.” he said. “You've lots of cousins?”

“Great-grandma was one of eight girls, can you imagine? There were nine major noble families in the city back then. In grandma's generation, they looked around for someone that wasn't a first cousin, gave up and married non-nobles, excluding them from the nobility, plus there was that blood-letting in Laneth, and in other places. In the five years from one council of nobles to the next, the membership was reduced to a quarter, and half of the fights had started at the previous council. That's why grandma told parliament the council has served its time, and if there was no need for the council, what need for the titles that only fed pride otherwise. She knew that would hurt, but... she felt it would have hurt more later.”

“And now Tanepoli has prayed in grandma's hearing that the house of Tan would be ruled by winterborn yellows.”

“Yes, Sithini told mother. You know Yalinth, what do you think?”

“I can imagine her in grandma's place. But....”

“It is her future unless she's disinherited, isn't it? She's the eldest daughter of the eldest daughter, isn't she?”

He nodded. “It will be hard for her though. I think mum might not disinherit her if there really was a chance of a line of thought hearers keeping the rest of us in line. But as there are no thought-hearing boys...”

“That we know of. I thought there were no pure-blooded males free of bellicosity.”

“I almost got bellicose when you touched my crest.”

“No, you almost got angry. There's a massive difference. Anger has a cause. Bellicose loves fighting and watching fights so much it'll make a cause, if you let it. It's constantly thinking how to turn a situation into some bloodshed, so you can demonstrate that you're slyer or faster or stronger.”

“Or cleverer.” Yalb said.

“I think that's a bit different, isn't it?”

“I'm not sure. But it's how it is with me, that's the field I beat off all challenges.”

“You'd lose to Sithini.”

“What about to you?”

“We'll have to see, won't we? You've proven very willing to be wrapped round my finger, so far.”

“I was begging for it, even. It just happened shockingly fast.”

“So, you made Sithini some sketches, will you make me a school to study in?”

“You're going to join the wizards?”

“That's my plan.”

“Here?” he asked.

“Assuming you don't decide to join the guild of architects as someone's journeyman.”

“Maybe I'll discover it was a silly dream, and I'd be much more useful making surprise visits to the mine with a wizard's staff to light the way.”

“Hmm, that sounds possible, too. Especially if you're holding up something like that log up in the other hand,” she said, seeing the angar log Dirak had brought back from Qnut

“Is that a challenge?”

“I ruined my earlier experiment, and I don't think it'll be tempted by your crest like I was.”

“Can you lift it?” he asked.

“Let's see.”

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