will be quite enough.” The quiet voice came from the other end of the table. Coryn recognized it instantly as Kieran’s. He flushed. What was he thinking, to let Liane goad him into such behavior and on his first real morning at Tramontana? He was not surprised when Kieran, in a voice just as calmly authoritative, commanded him for a private word after breakfast. Liane’s smirk quickly disappeared when she in turn was ordered to see Bronwyn.
Coryn got up from the table, his breakfast untouched. Aran touched him gently on the back of the wrist, a gesture Coryn now understood was common among telepaths.
“I never believed the story about the horses,” Aran said. “But it did sound as if something exciting had happened. Maybe you can tell me later. I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”
“It wasn’t you, it was that—that—” Coryn managed to stop himself before he said anything else he’d regret.
A short time later, he stood before Kieran in the Keeper’s small, stone-walled sitting room. Despite the morning’s chill, no fire warmed the fieldstone hearth. Kieran sat at ease in his simple chair, his six-fingered hands quiet in his lap. The austerity of the scene, as much as the temperature, set Coryn shivering.
“It won’t happen again,” Coryn began.
“Perhaps, instead of making promises you have no idea if you can keep, you might explain to me why Liane irritates you so. Is it merely the feud between your two families?”
Need there be more? Coryn wondered, but did not say so aloud. Under Kieran’s gentle prodding, he stumbled through the story of the fire, the storm, the rescue. He realized how unfair he was being. Liane wasn’t to blame for her father’s decisions and she had tried hard to be friendly that first time in the infirmary.
“Yet there is more that troubles you, young Coryn. Liane is a spirited young woman, perhaps a bit unmannerly, but without malice.”
Coryn thought suddenly that if Liane had not reminded him so much of Kristlin, he might not have felt such a sense of—was it betrayal?
“Listen to me,” Kieran said, leaning forward, his ageless features alight with intensity. “Out there in the world, a man’s family name counts more than the quality of his character. Women—and men, too—are judged and sold for nothing more than their bloodlines or the alliances they can bring.”
Coryn shivered, thinking of Kristlin’s marriage, of Tessa’s impassioned words, I will not be barragana . . . “But here in the Tower, while we are in service, we leave all that behind. It is who you are, what you make of your life, your honor and dedication, not your rank or clan connections that determine your future. You were born gifted with laran . All that grants you is the chance to know yourself and your fellows in ways you never dreamed possible. You can speak across miles, you can delve into the bowels of the earth for precious minerals, you can penetrate the very fabric of the world. None of this comes easily or without a price. And none of it will come unless you can leave the petty squabbles of the world behind.”
Kieran’s voice shifted, so resonant that tears sprang to Coryn’s eyes and he suddenly understood the passion with which Gareth had spoken of his Keeper.
“You are no longer Coryn Leynier of Verdanta and Liane is not Liane Storn of High Kinnally. You are Coryn and she is Liane. Nothing more. Someday, if you both have the talent and dedication to earn your places here, you may well hold each other’s lives in your hands. There is no room for a childish quarrel which is none of your affair. Do you understand me?”
Coryn, swallowing dryly, nodded. He vowed in his heart to take Liane as she was, chattering and all. In that assent, he passed some invisible barrier, some unspoken test, although he had only the roughest idea of what it meant to him. He only knew that he wanted what the Tower offered more than he’d ever wanted anything before.
A moment later,
Coryn got up from the table, his breakfast untouched. Aran touched him gently on the back of the wrist, a gesture Coryn now understood was common among telepaths.
“I never believed the story about the horses,” Aran said. “But it did sound as if something exciting had happened. Maybe you can tell me later. I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”
“It wasn’t you, it was that—that—” Coryn managed to stop himself before he said anything else he’d regret.
A short time later, he stood before Kieran in the Keeper’s small, stone-walled sitting room. Despite the morning’s chill, no fire warmed the fieldstone hearth. Kieran sat at ease in his simple chair, his six-fingered hands quiet in his lap. The austerity of the scene, as much as the temperature, set Coryn shivering.
“It won’t happen again,” Coryn began.
“Perhaps, instead of making promises you have no idea if you can keep, you might explain to me why Liane irritates you so. Is it merely the feud between your two families?”
Need there be more? Coryn wondered, but did not say so aloud. Under Kieran’s gentle prodding, he stumbled through the story of the fire, the storm, the rescue. He realized how unfair he was being. Liane wasn’t to blame for her father’s decisions and she had tried hard to be friendly that first time in the infirmary.
“Yet there is more that troubles you, young Coryn. Liane is a spirited young woman, perhaps a bit unmannerly, but without malice.”
Coryn thought suddenly that if Liane had not reminded him so much of Kristlin, he might not have felt such a sense of—was it betrayal?
“Listen to me,” Kieran said, leaning forward, his ageless features alight with intensity. “Out there in the world, a man’s family name counts more than the quality of his character. Women—and men, too—are judged and sold for nothing more than their bloodlines or the alliances they can bring.”
Coryn shivered, thinking of Kristlin’s marriage, of Tessa’s impassioned words, I will not be barragana . . . “But here in the Tower, while we are in service, we leave all that behind. It is who you are, what you make of your life, your honor and dedication, not your rank or clan connections that determine your future. You were born gifted with laran . All that grants you is the chance to know yourself and your fellows in ways you never dreamed possible. You can speak across miles, you can delve into the bowels of the earth for precious minerals, you can penetrate the very fabric of the world. None of this comes easily or without a price. And none of it will come unless you can leave the petty squabbles of the world behind.”
Kieran’s voice shifted, so resonant that tears sprang to Coryn’s eyes and he suddenly understood the passion with which Gareth had spoken of his Keeper.
“You are no longer Coryn Leynier of Verdanta and Liane is not Liane Storn of High Kinnally. You are Coryn and she is Liane. Nothing more. Someday, if you both have the talent and dedication to earn your places here, you may well hold each other’s lives in your hands. There is no room for a childish quarrel which is none of your affair. Do you understand me?”
Coryn, swallowing dryly, nodded. He vowed in his heart to take Liane as she was, chattering and all. In that assent, he passed some invisible barrier, some unspoken test, although he had only the roughest idea of what it meant to him. He only knew that he wanted what the Tower offered more than he’d ever wanted anything before.
A moment later,
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