Arrows of the Queen by Mercedes Lackey Page A

“Where I come from you don’t wash in the winter since there’s no way to heat enough water, and you’d probably get pneumonia from the drafts. I never visit home in the winter anymore—my nose has gotten a lot more sensitive since I left!”
    Talia thought of Keldar’s thrice-daily inspections, and the cold-water scrubbing with a floor-brush that followed any discovery of a trace of dirt. “I think I’ll be all right,” she answered softly.
    â€œGood. Now as Sherrill has told you—or should have—you all have small chores to see to every day. What can you do?”
    â€œAnything,” Talia replied promptly.
    The Housekeeper looked skeptical. “Forgive me, my dear, but that doesn’t seem very likely for someone your age.”
    â€œShe’s older than she looks,” Sherrill said. “Thirteen.”
    Talia nodded. “They were going to make me get married, so I ran away. That’s when Rolan found me. Keldar said I was ready.”
    The Housekeeper was plainly shocked. “Married? At thirteen?”
    â€œIt’s pretty common to marry that young on the Borders,” Sherrill replied. “They don’t wait much longer than that back home. Borderers treat themselves and their children just like they do their stock; breed ’em early and often to get the maximum number of useful offspring. There’s no one true way, Housekeeper. Life is hard on the Border; if Borderers were to hold by in Kingdom custom, they’d never be able to hold their lands.”
    â€œIt still seems—barbaric,” the Housekeeper said with faint distaste.
    â€œIt may well be—but they have to survive. And this kind of upbringing is what produced us a Herald that has a chance of turning the Brat back into a proper Heir. You’ll take notice that Rolan didn’t pick any of us .” Sherrill smiled down at Talia, who was trying not to show her discomfort. “Sorry about talking about you as if you weren’t there. Don’t let us bother you, little friend. Not all of us have had the benefits of what Housekeeper calls a ‘civilized upbringing.’ Remember what I told you about not washing in winter? Housekeeper had to hold me down in a tub of hot water and scrub me near raw when I first got here—I was a real little barbarian!”
    Talia couldn’t imagine the immaculate and self-assured Sherrill being held down and scrubbed by anyone—still less could she imagine Sherrill needing that kind of treatment.
    â€œTalia, can you cook or sew? Anything of that nature?”
    â€œI can cook, if it’s plain stuff,” Talia said doubtfully. “Only the Wives did feasts; they were too important to be left to us. My embroidery isn’t any good at all, but I can mend and sew clothing and knit. And weave and spin. And I know how to clean just about anything.”
    The Housekeeper suppressed a chuckle at the exasperated tone of the last sentence. That tone convinced her that Talia probably was capable of what she claimed.
    â€œIt’s so unusual that our students have as much experience in homely tasks as you do, that I think I’ll alternate you as cook’s helper and in the sewing room. There’s never any lack of tears and worn spots to be mended, and there’s generally a dearth of hands able to mend them. And Mero will be overjoyed to have me send someone capable of dealing with food for a change.” She handed Talia a sheet of paper after consulting one of the books on her desk and writing in it. “Here’s your schedule; come see me if it’s too hard to fit in among your classes and we’ll change it.”
    Sherrill led the way back up the stairs to Talia’s new room. Talia examined her new clothing with a great deal of interest. There were loose linen shirts, meant to be worn with thigh-length tunics of a heavier material, something like canvas in weight, but much