THE SHERIFF OF HNUT / CH. 19: FEATHER PARLOUR

KELDI'S FAMILY ROOMS, THE COLLEGE OF WIZARDRY, FATHERDAY 7TH WINTER

Lanthi waited for a lull in conversation at the meal before broaching the topic. She was a little surprised to see that during the pause her mother was taking seconds.

“Mother... what were you hoping would be the result of Sithini taking me up to Hnut this afternoon?”

“I had several hopes in mind, dear. I hoped you'd see Dirak's library, apologise to Yalb, ask him the various questions I sent you with, things like that. How did it go?”

“Dirak's library is nice and comfortable. Yalb didn't even shout at me, and Sithini ran away within about ten seconds of me starting to apologise.”

“She said you were still talking half an hour later, but said I'd have to ask you.”

“Yalb of the Yant is pure blooded and not inherently bellicose.”

“Oooh, I didn't know that. Tell on!” Keldi said.

“He is quite strong; quite strong indeed.”

“How strong?” Keldi asked.

“Did Dirak tell you about the split log of gnarly angar he got in Qnut?”

“He did.”

“Dirak struggled to move it, sheriff Gnor could pick it up, but it was an effort. Yalb held it at arms length for more than half a minute before politely asking if he could put it down now. I've told him that until we decide we hate one other, he ought to consider himself mine.”

“Oh have you? You didn't think you ought to ask me about it first?”

“I assumed that you'd set it all up. The other pure-blooded males my age in the village are part Lanthin, so settling it there and then seemed like it might save some unpleasant name-calling and shredded crests.”

“Part Lanthin?” Keldi asked.

“Rangar's father was a Lanthin who renounced blood-feuds. They're Rangar's nephews.”

“And what did Yalb think about you claiming him?”

“Shocked at how fast it happened, a bit put off when I said you'd be talking to his parents about constitutional necessities and dynastic future, not feelings, and very happy that there shouldn't be fights involved.”

“And just to make sure,” Keldi asked, “you're not saying that you've made courtship promises, are you?”

“No.” Lanthi said, surprised her mother would ask something that silly, “Just mutually agreed that we plan on getting used to the idea of falling in love. In local parlance we have reached an informal understanding that we're both interested.”

“Who's his father?” Kand asked.

“Torg of the Tan, son of Talina,”

“Congratulations, Lanthi, on finding a grandson of the only Tan you're not related to! What's he do for a living?”

“Well, for the next few months, he's going to be architect for the new college, then he's thinking of joining, and recently he's been working on the accounts for the family mines.”

“Mines plural?”

“Apparently. All in Yanepoli's name. He says the miners are all dishonest, and that as a breed, foremen are either honest or intimidating. Which by the sound of it means that the miners either bribe the foreman or convince him to look away. He didn't say that, though, just implied it. But the mines seem to make a profit, just not as much as they should because the miners are digging the best ores for their own pockets. He also said that because all the mine owners know that's what happens, the wages for an honest miner aren't that good. We sort of played around with ideas of how miners with a spotless record could be paid more. Which touched on Yalinth yet again. He thinks that his mother, Yathin, might not disinherit Yagel if there was a hope that Yalinth would find a winterborn yellow husband, and the ruling line could pass to 'pure-blood' winterborn.”

“Interesting.”

“Especially since the next in line is Yagah, who has called Yalb a disgrace to his breeding. I learned that pretty early on, fortunately, otherwise you might have ended up plucking me, mum.”

“Hmm. Or her, beside you, depending how much notice you gave me. We must find Yalinth a winterborn husband, or convince Yathin that being a winterborn doesn't need to come into the genetics. Yagah's a throwback.”

“I said it sounded like she'd been dropped on her head too many times, which was how he ended up telling me he could act bellicose, but wasn't. Do yellows really breed true, mother?”

“According to what I know of the genetics, yes they do. Just like what makes Yalb a Yant is all from his mother's side. Quite why a red mother and a yellow father don't end up with a yellow isn't something I understand, but that ends up with an orange, in case you're wondering. Nor do I understand the way that while the old records speak of orange and blue giving rise to yellow. I've heard of some orange and blue pairings ending up with lesser reds and light blues in the same family, which seems really strange.”

“Maybe there are just so many ways you can get oranges that there aren't really any pure-blooded oranges any more?” Kand suggested.

“That's probably it.” Keldi agreed, “Colour genetics is horrendously complicated.”

“Didn't you tell me that Sithini had said you needed to talk to Lenepoli's friend's brother?” Kand asked.

“Yes. I suppose he might be a lot younger than she is but... twenty-four to six?”

“Keldithanapoli, beloved, it's eighteen years... ” Kand said, placing a hand on her slightly expanded belly, “may I remind you...?”

“Not in front of Lanthi, no.” Keldi said, holding his hand there, and resting her head on his shoulder.

“You're not!” Lanthi exclaimed. “Really? You're carrying?”

“Silly idea,” Keldi said. “Even if it was mine.”

“I thought you said it wasn't?” Kand asked.

“It wasn't my idea to lead by example, no. I admit it was my idea to encourage nobles to have more than one child reach adulthood. And then Magz used the d word.”

“Duty,” Kand explained. “Very enjoyable duty it turned out to be, too.”

“Hush, Kand, you'll embarrass our daughter. And give me more vegetables, will you?”

“But... Mum, Ethe was full over a week ago.”

“I ought to be laying on Motherday, yes. It seems quite appropriate.”

“But... you said we're going to be in Hnut next week.”

“Yes dear, we will.”

“But....”

“Do tell me what Dirak's library was like, Lanthi. Nice and warm?”

“Very snug, mummy.” Lanthi said, still barely believing what she was learning. “Snug and secure and no drafts.”

“Symbolism is important, Lanthi, at least to some people. Expand.”

“You plan to lay in winter, in Hnut. Where you'll have just told people about the hool. People might be frightened, unsure. And you're going to lay there. Surrounded by knowledge, bringing new life where people are maybe a bit too scared of death. You're going to demonstrate that life goes on, that Hnut is a place with a future as well as a past.”

“And?”

“And urm, that the future of our family is there?”

“That we might start of as foreigners, strangers, but we have no fear of Hnut, not its people. And I think I'll point out that our line was once of Yant. Which reminds me, daughter, if Yalb retains the deceptive strength of the clan, his sisters may also. A friendly arm wrestle may be worthwhile to establish who could pluck whom. You still ought to have the advantage as a thanapoli, but...”

“But Yalb surprised me, yes. It would be worth knowing. I did actually ask Yalb to try to arrange a little 'just out of curiosity' test. But first I need to wash my feathers again.”

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Her father held up a packet. “Large print: 'Washes out with just one wash!' But beware the small print: 'Extended or repeated use may leave a residual stain.'”

“No!” Lanthi wailed, “I'm stuck like this?”

“Even smaller print. 'In the result of an unwelcome stain, we recommend our advantageously priced stain removal agent.'”

“How advantageously priced?” Lanthi asked.

“Depends on your perspective.” Keldi said, “Probably very advantageous from the point of view of the company. Having asked to check the small print on that however, I saw 'contains a dilute colour removing agent, may cause some fading of natural colouration in deep colours.' It smelt of chlorine to me.”

“Their stain removal agent is bleach?”

“Yes. But fear not, I challenged some journeymen to analyse the dye.”

“And?”

“It ought to wash out. It has no penetrating power we could see at all. But it is a small molecule, and can get into pits. Which of course can close up. Therefore I suggest that you try a long wash. Lots of hot water to start with, just steam yourself for a bit, actually. When your

feathers start to wilt, that's probably enough. Then wash. And make sure you get your feathers properly straightened afterwards.”

That involved sitting perfectly still while the attendant carefully attached clips and strings and pulleys, and of course while the feathers were dried “I hate going to feather parlours, mum. It makes me feel so vain.”

“Exactly. So your normal feather washing is a bit on the brief side, isn't it? You need a deep clean, Lanthi. You do want to look your best, don't you?”

“Yes, mum. What do I say at school?”

“Assuming you get back to your own colour, tell them that you've decided to be who God and genetics and history made you to be, Lanthithanapoli daughter of Keldithanapoli, heir to the empty throne, also known as innate bellicosity incarnate and that yes plucking them would be very easy, but the hard bit would be stopping yourself from ripping their throats out. And no that's not a joke, it's a friendly warning about what comes with feathers that don't show blood, and talons that self-sharpen.”

“Whatever happened to keeping a low profile?”

“Your friends know you a bit better now, I hope. You can also tell them that you're going to be studying in a village where your almost-boyfriend lives, and dyes are really unpopular there, and you don't want Lady Yanepoli of the Yant who used to have title over the whole Utt valley to think her pure-blooded grandson is interested in someone from a street-corner in Drana.”

“Isn't that putting it a bit strongly?”

“That's the only place you saw purple when she was last in the city, Lanthi.”

“Oh. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because things have changed. These days purple just means 'of course it's not my colour, don't judge me.' But she doesn't know that, deep inside.”

“And showing my red...”

“Means 'I haven't killed you yet, have I?' Please don't tempt me.”

“Some of my teachers don't know I'm red, mum.”

“Let them learn then. You are who you've always been, you hope you've shown that you don't expect special treatment, and this is about showing respect to your almost-boyfriend's relatives, nothing to do with school.”

“You don't think they'll be surprised about me suddenly having an almost-boyfriend?”

“Tell them you're constitutionally bound to breed bellicosity out of the royal line, so you had to grab him quickly before someone else got him, and you can always fall in love later. That ought to confuse them.”

“It certainly confused me,” Kand said. “There I was, minding my own business, when 'Hey, you! Are you Kand? Are you really as peace-loving as they say? And is it always this windy here? I'm freezing; who can I to fight to claim you as mine? I want to warm up.'”

“I'm sure I didn't say 'Hey you!' that first time.” Keldi said.

“Was it 'Oi, you with the gorgeous crest' then? I get them confused.”

“That's it. Romantic, wasn't I?”

“Urm. Bellicose might be a better term.”

“And then you actually ran away?” Lanthi asked.

“Have you ever tried running away from your mother when she's grouchy? I didn't get very far. Her famous next words were, 'Hey you, why are you running away? It's not like I'm going to rip your crest off; I'm planning to marry you and we might need it later.”

“Why were you so grouchy, mummy?”

“Because I'd been hearing reports about this kind gentle Keled called Kand, and I'd been looking for him for two weeks, kept getting false leads and even one imposter, it had been a double-moon the night before, it was blowing a gale and raining.”

“Drizzling,” Kand corrected.

“Wet stuff soaking me to the bone, anyway. And he was camping. Camping in late autumn. In sand dunes.”

“Getting away from all the aggravation of a girl my parents were set on marrying me off to who thought I was a waste of space but wanted.. urm.. what was it, the defunct title? No, that was another one, even my parents agreed she was nuts. Oh! I remember, she wanted to cancel a forgotten blood-feud.”

“That's pretty peace loving, isn't it?” Lanthi said.

“That's what your grandparents thought. Then she let slip why. If she cancelled that one then she thought she'd get Keled support for another one which wasn't forgotten.”

“I've been meaning to ask... How is it that we don't have any blood-feuds, mum?”

“The law of talon, now repealed. In the event of a blood feud being declared against the royal family, they got one day to make a strike against the perpetrator only, and then the royals got a year to shred them. In the unlikely event that someone survived that year, and they wanted to press further, they could try to take out two, in one day, followed by two years of revenge. Then three and so on.”

“But by the end of the first moon the entire clan would have been shredded anyway, unless they were really good at hiding.” Kand said.

“And if they accidentally attacked the heir or heir apparent,” Keldi said, “then they risked the court deciding they'd tried regicide.”

“OK. So no one was ever stupid enough to declare a blood-feud against us.”

“Don't be silly; of course they did, only they then got shredded by their own relatives, which was acceptable under the law of talon.”

“And it even made a little bit of sense,” Kand said, “because all the noble families were related to the royal line somehow.”

“Anyway, you've got time before my favourite feather salon closes,” Keldi said, “Go and wash that stuff off.”

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YATHIN AND TORG'S HOME. FATHERDAY, 7TH OF WINTER.

“So what took so long at Dirak's?” Torg asked his son. “I thought you were just getting your sketches back.”

“I got my sketches back, and green who turned red Sithinilakiina then left me in the company of her friend Lanthi, who's taking some architecture courses.”

“And you spent a happy three quarters of an hour talking architecture?”

“Not much, actually. But urm, I'm not going to be able to help as much with the accounts, mum. Lanthi snitched my plans from Sithini, laid them out in public view and showed them to Yalinth's target Ranth, who was about to meet the guild architect.”

“And?”

“The guild architect pointed out some of my mistakes, from when it was getting a bit rowdy and I couldn't concentrate, and told Ranth to stop bothering him, he's busy, doesn't want to work in any new-fangled wizard stuff, oh and to add insult to injury apparently we don't have any decent stone around here.”

“How dare he! Can I shred him?” Yagah asked.

“No, Yagah,” her mother said, “It'd take at least a week to get there, and a week to get back, and probably four weeks to find him in the city.”

“He's still coming up though, isn't he?” Yagah said.

“No, he's named me as the project architect.”

“But despite this, you didn't talk much about architecture?” Torg asked.

“No. More about plans and who was who in the village, and she had me show her how strong or not I was.”

“And?”

“Got bored when I was lifting her up and had me lift up Dirak's Angar log instead, after giving it a try and deciding it was pretty heavy. she concluded that I was deceptively strong like a book she's been reading said we Yants are supposed to be.”

“That's supposed to be a secret. What's she been reading?” Yathin asked.

“A history of the Yatt valley.”

“Never heard of it.” Yagah said, dismissively.

“Ignoramus.” Her mother retorted, “Your grandmother has the only copy outside the royal archives. How did a Lanthin get hold of it? She is some kind of Lanthin-descendent, I assume with a name like that?”

“No mother, not directly in the last twenty five generations or so, anyway, assuming her forebears kept to tradition. She's named after the district, not the family.”

“Well, well well!” Torg said, immediately understanding, “And how did you get on with her?”

“Very well, father. Actually, she told me to tell any other girls I happened to meet that they ought to back off if they wanted to keep their feathers. She also said her parents would be coming to chat to you sometime.”

“What about?” Yagah asked.

“Yagah, are you sure I didn't drop you on your head?” her mother asked her. “Yalb's been giving so many hints. I assume it's just probable that you'll decide to reach an understanding, at the moment, Yalb?”

“Actually, she pointed out that if we came to one there and then, it would mean I'd never have to get into a fight about who was going to court her. I found that quite convincing.”

“You've found yourself a pathetic peace-lover?” Yagah exclaimed, “What's the world coming to!”

“Lanthithanapoli daughter of Keldithanapoli heir to the empty throne and noble over all nobles is not pathetic, sister. I have no doubt that while she'd prefer to obey the law, she's threatened to pluck any girl that gets the idea she can barge in, and shred the crest of any boy who thinks so little of our understanding that they think violence against me would change her mind. Since she says neither she nor any of her ancestresses have backed away from a challenge in four centuries, I'm entirely sure she'd do it. Her interest in me is because her grandmother decreed that it was a constitutional necessity to breed the bellicosity out of the royal line, or abdicate, and that abdicating was cowardice. Can I suggest you withdraw your unknowing accusation, in case she decides you've just impugned her honour, not to mention her mother's?”

“Yagah,” her mother said, jumping in, “please bear in mind that although the Law of Talon has officially been rescinded by parliament, if you dare impugn the honour of Keldithanapoli, your grandmother will probably still claw you to death because of the shame it would bring on us. And I'd be holding you down.”

“You didn't need to say that mother. I withdraw my stupid outburst.”

“Good. Now to calm everyone down,” Yalb said “I'm going to challenge you to an arm wrestle,”

“Winner takes on Girt.” Yagah shot back.

“I'm glad you acknowledge I'm likely to win against you even if Girt is likely to flatten me. But if I'm taking on Girt, you take on Lanthithanapoli, just because I'm curious.”

“Not if that's going to cause offence,” Yagah said.

“She's not full grown yet, she can always ascribe it to the age difference if you beat her.”

“How old is she?” Yathin asked.

“A year younger than me.”

“Hmm, no, she won't be at her full strength yet.” Yathin agreed. “I suggest you wrestle now, and we'll tell the others what we've arranged for them at the weekend. I doubt you want Girt practising, Yalb.”

“I seriously doubt it'll affect the outcome, mother. But I'll try my best. Yagah, you might want to see how long you can lift Dirak's log; Lanthi managed something like fifteen seconds, but I'm afraid I wasn't looking at my watch when she put it down.”

“She's pretty then?” Yagah asked.

“You'll see.” Yalb replied.

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DIRAK'S HOME, FATHERDAY EVENING, 7TH WINTER

“Now what happens?” Lenepoli asked. “Another process for a mistrial?”

“Yes.” Dirak agreed, “Expedited process, hopefully, but it's entirely out of our hands.”

“Poor last little fluffball.” Sithini said. “Both parents and two grandparents in prison, two grandparents dead. Assuming the machine's right, of course.”

“Yes, that's always a question.” Dirak agreed, “We can't take DNA until we're more sure, we can't be more sure until the parent's identified their fluffball, and we can't take the child to see the parents without being sure, at least, not without a judge making a decision. But in the mean time... who's going to look after the little one? Rangar and Nathlin weren't that keen on taking them all to start with.”

“Let's just report to them what we've found out.” Lenepoli said.