change.”
AnnaRail nodded, knowing better than to
speak further.
“Good,” Olivia continued. “Now what’s this I
hear about the other boys? I’m told Morgin associates only with
JohnEngine, that the others consider him moody and aloof.”
AnnaRail shrugged. “He’s a loner. He always
has been. What else can we expect after the kind of childhood he
had? And too, all of the boys, including Morgin, have recently
discovered girls. But while the rest are in hot pursuit, Morgin is
in retreat, I think because he is overly self-conscious of the
scars on his face. If we could do something about that, it would be
one less thing that separates him from the rest.”
“But even then,” Marjinell said, “the others
think him stupid and slow witted. Is he?”
“That’s enough, Marjinell,” AnnaRail said.
“You always seek to malign him. I’ll not stand for—”
“Be still.” Olivia commanded. “You’re
bickering like maidens. AnnaRail is right, Marjinell. You’re much
too harsh with Morgin. We know he’s not stupid, so I’ll hear no
more of that. And you—” she said, turning upon AnnaRail, “—are much
too quick to defend him. As for his scars, I see no reason why we
shouldn’t treat them.”
“It will take much magic,” Marjinell
said.
“For a member of this family, we have much
magic to give. But he must recognize that he is part of this clan,
this family. He will not be allowed to remain separate and aloof.
He will participate in all activities of this family, and that is
final.”
AnnaRail nodded. “We are in total agreement
there.” That took them all by surprise, even Roland. “But your
actions must match you words.”
Olivia frowned. “What do you mean?”
AnnaRail had gained a point, but the old
woman did not yet realize it. “Correct me if I am wrong, but had
you not planned that the entire family, with the one exception of
Morgin, would accompany us next month to Anistigh for Annaline’s
wedding?”
Olivia nodded warily; her eyes narrowed.
“Then we cannot blame the
boy . . .” AnnaRail continued,
“. . . if he interprets that to mean that he is
separate, and not equal.”
Her words had the desired effect. Olivia’s
brow remained wrinkled, but with indecision, not anger. “But the
boy cannot be trusted in the city.”
“I think he can. And in any case he’ll have
to be trusted, unless you wish him to withdraw even further into
himself.”
Olivia had trapped herself by her own
demands, which gave AnnaRail a certain satisfaction. But the old
witch recovered quickly. “Very well. He’ll go to Anistigh. But
he’ll attend each and every function before, during, and after the
wedding. With no time to himself, there’ll be no time for
temptation.”
She looked at each of them in turn. “It
shall be so. I command it. Malka. Please remain. I wish to speak
with you privately.”
~~~
Anistigh was a leisurely three day journey
from Elhiyne. Morgin and his brothers and cousins could have ridden
it easily in two, but no one felt the need to hurry. Besides, there
were women along, and carriages were slow, and even those like
Annaline—who had chosen to ride horseback, and proven often enough
that she was as capable in the saddle as any man—were hindered by
the petticoats and skirts that Olivia demanded they wear. “My
granddaughter . . .” she had proclaimed,
“. . . will not ride to her own wedding dressed in
the breeches of a man.”
Annaline didn’t seem to mind, though. They
were on holiday, and the trip was made in comfort, if not elegance,
though little eight-year-old NickoLot was not at all happy about
the situation. She wanted to ride with her brothers, but AnnaRail
would have none of that.
They followed the river Bohl, for it passed
close to Elhiyne and through the middle of Anistigh. It was also a
convenient source of water, and late in the evenings Morgin and his
brothers fished its banks, hoping to catch something tasty
AnnaRail nodded, knowing better than to
speak further.
“Good,” Olivia continued. “Now what’s this I
hear about the other boys? I’m told Morgin associates only with
JohnEngine, that the others consider him moody and aloof.”
AnnaRail shrugged. “He’s a loner. He always
has been. What else can we expect after the kind of childhood he
had? And too, all of the boys, including Morgin, have recently
discovered girls. But while the rest are in hot pursuit, Morgin is
in retreat, I think because he is overly self-conscious of the
scars on his face. If we could do something about that, it would be
one less thing that separates him from the rest.”
“But even then,” Marjinell said, “the others
think him stupid and slow witted. Is he?”
“That’s enough, Marjinell,” AnnaRail said.
“You always seek to malign him. I’ll not stand for—”
“Be still.” Olivia commanded. “You’re
bickering like maidens. AnnaRail is right, Marjinell. You’re much
too harsh with Morgin. We know he’s not stupid, so I’ll hear no
more of that. And you—” she said, turning upon AnnaRail, “—are much
too quick to defend him. As for his scars, I see no reason why we
shouldn’t treat them.”
“It will take much magic,” Marjinell
said.
“For a member of this family, we have much
magic to give. But he must recognize that he is part of this clan,
this family. He will not be allowed to remain separate and aloof.
He will participate in all activities of this family, and that is
final.”
AnnaRail nodded. “We are in total agreement
there.” That took them all by surprise, even Roland. “But your
actions must match you words.”
Olivia frowned. “What do you mean?”
AnnaRail had gained a point, but the old
woman did not yet realize it. “Correct me if I am wrong, but had
you not planned that the entire family, with the one exception of
Morgin, would accompany us next month to Anistigh for Annaline’s
wedding?”
Olivia nodded warily; her eyes narrowed.
“Then we cannot blame the
boy . . .” AnnaRail continued,
“. . . if he interprets that to mean that he is
separate, and not equal.”
Her words had the desired effect. Olivia’s
brow remained wrinkled, but with indecision, not anger. “But the
boy cannot be trusted in the city.”
“I think he can. And in any case he’ll have
to be trusted, unless you wish him to withdraw even further into
himself.”
Olivia had trapped herself by her own
demands, which gave AnnaRail a certain satisfaction. But the old
witch recovered quickly. “Very well. He’ll go to Anistigh. But
he’ll attend each and every function before, during, and after the
wedding. With no time to himself, there’ll be no time for
temptation.”
She looked at each of them in turn. “It
shall be so. I command it. Malka. Please remain. I wish to speak
with you privately.”
~~~
Anistigh was a leisurely three day journey
from Elhiyne. Morgin and his brothers and cousins could have ridden
it easily in two, but no one felt the need to hurry. Besides, there
were women along, and carriages were slow, and even those like
Annaline—who had chosen to ride horseback, and proven often enough
that she was as capable in the saddle as any man—were hindered by
the petticoats and skirts that Olivia demanded they wear. “My
granddaughter . . .” she had proclaimed,
“. . . will not ride to her own wedding dressed in
the breeches of a man.”
Annaline didn’t seem to mind, though. They
were on holiday, and the trip was made in comfort, if not elegance,
though little eight-year-old NickoLot was not at all happy about
the situation. She wanted to ride with her brothers, but AnnaRail
would have none of that.
They followed the river Bohl, for it passed
close to Elhiyne and through the middle of Anistigh. It was also a
convenient source of water, and late in the evenings Morgin and his
brothers fished its banks, hoping to catch something tasty
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