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Authors: J.W. McKenna
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tumbled out of her.
He looked up, distracted. “Um? Oh, yes, Jenya. I mean, no.
Well, I’m fine, it’s my brother in Gordax. He’s got some trouble. I don’t know
why he wrote to me.”
Jenya wanted to ask what kind of trouble, but decided to
keep quiet. If it should be her business, he would tell her.
He stopped and came over to her. “You see, Farda—my
brother—isn’t a Nobleman any more. He married a Craftswoman and gave up his
rank.”
Jenya tried not to show her surprise. She knew people often
tried to move up in status, especially among the Damon, but it was rare for a
Nobleman to elect to join a lower caste. It must’ve scandalized the family, she
realized.
“He has a daughter. It’s not his daughter, but he married
her mother, so she’s his step-daughter. Her real father died, you see.” Rydah
didn’t know why he was explaining so much. It just felt good to talk out this
problem that had been dumped on him.
“It turns out, his step-daughter, Symal—she’s seventeen rynes now—caught the eye of Lord Acolyte Lepdar. You know of him?”
Jenya nodded. Everyone knew the brother of the heir to the
throne! She remembered hearing about his older brother’s wedding just two rynes ago, in the warm season. Lord Acolyte Raparn had married Princess Tymir from
the priestdom to the west in order to cement relations between the two high
lords, a common practice.
“Well, the Lord Acolyte is supposed to marry Princess
Wenelle, from Farzan. Last I heard, he wasn’t too happy about it, but that’s
nothing unusual. Now he’s fallen for Symal—Rand knows how they met!—and they
seem to have disappeared. Together. You can imagine what an uproar this has
caused.”
What really amazed Rydah was that he hadn’t heard any of
this before. News like this usually spread like the plague through a community. It must’ve just happened , he mused.
“So the high lord has his troops out searching for them, and
Farda is afraid Symal will be blamed somehow. She could be, of course. She may
wind up in prison over this—or worse.”
He approached Jenya, worry etched on his face. “He’s asking
me if I can help! Why would he do that? I can’t be drawn into this mess! This
could ruin my career.”
“I can see that you’re worried about your brother, though,”
Jenya said, choosing her words carefully.
“Yes, yes of course. He’s my brother! But what can I do?”
“He’s probably calling out for help wherever he can get it,
master,” she said. She ached to help him, but felt powerless.
“Yes, of course. He has others he can rely on. My father,
for instance. That’s who he should be writing to, not me.”
“Can your father help him?”
“I don’t know. My father isn’t exactly on personal terms
with High Lord Bandar. You can probably tell from my humble house that my
father’s ranking is not high among the Damon. I can’t see him being able to
assist, either. Something like this could only bring us trouble.”
“Perhaps your brother just wants you to help search for
them, m’lord. If he found them first, he might be able to figure out a way to
save his daughter.”
Rydah nodded as he began pacing again. “That’s probably it.
I just don’t know if I should get involved.”
Jenya thought for a moment. Her limited existence in the
pens didn’t prepare her for such political intrigue, but she did have a woman’s
intuition about love. “This other woman, the princess—does she want to marry
the Lord Acolyte?”
“I don’t know,” he responded, still distracted. “It’s all
arranged. Usually, they would learn to love each other later, like Lord Acolyte
Raparn and Tymir.”
Rydah stopped and cocked his head, as if listening to
something.
Jenya started to speak, then held her tongue. Her lord
appeared to be deep in thought. No doubt he was trying to figure out a
solution.
He straightened up and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he
whispered to himself.
“Pardon,
He looked up, distracted. “Um? Oh, yes, Jenya. I mean, no.
Well, I’m fine, it’s my brother in Gordax. He’s got some trouble. I don’t know
why he wrote to me.”
Jenya wanted to ask what kind of trouble, but decided to
keep quiet. If it should be her business, he would tell her.
He stopped and came over to her. “You see, Farda—my
brother—isn’t a Nobleman any more. He married a Craftswoman and gave up his
rank.”
Jenya tried not to show her surprise. She knew people often
tried to move up in status, especially among the Damon, but it was rare for a
Nobleman to elect to join a lower caste. It must’ve scandalized the family, she
realized.
“He has a daughter. It’s not his daughter, but he married
her mother, so she’s his step-daughter. Her real father died, you see.” Rydah
didn’t know why he was explaining so much. It just felt good to talk out this
problem that had been dumped on him.
“It turns out, his step-daughter, Symal—she’s seventeen rynes now—caught the eye of Lord Acolyte Lepdar. You know of him?”
Jenya nodded. Everyone knew the brother of the heir to the
throne! She remembered hearing about his older brother’s wedding just two rynes ago, in the warm season. Lord Acolyte Raparn had married Princess Tymir from
the priestdom to the west in order to cement relations between the two high
lords, a common practice.
“Well, the Lord Acolyte is supposed to marry Princess
Wenelle, from Farzan. Last I heard, he wasn’t too happy about it, but that’s
nothing unusual. Now he’s fallen for Symal—Rand knows how they met!—and they
seem to have disappeared. Together. You can imagine what an uproar this has
caused.”
What really amazed Rydah was that he hadn’t heard any of
this before. News like this usually spread like the plague through a community. It must’ve just happened , he mused.
“So the high lord has his troops out searching for them, and
Farda is afraid Symal will be blamed somehow. She could be, of course. She may
wind up in prison over this—or worse.”
He approached Jenya, worry etched on his face. “He’s asking
me if I can help! Why would he do that? I can’t be drawn into this mess! This
could ruin my career.”
“I can see that you’re worried about your brother, though,”
Jenya said, choosing her words carefully.
“Yes, yes of course. He’s my brother! But what can I do?”
“He’s probably calling out for help wherever he can get it,
master,” she said. She ached to help him, but felt powerless.
“Yes, of course. He has others he can rely on. My father,
for instance. That’s who he should be writing to, not me.”
“Can your father help him?”
“I don’t know. My father isn’t exactly on personal terms
with High Lord Bandar. You can probably tell from my humble house that my
father’s ranking is not high among the Damon. I can’t see him being able to
assist, either. Something like this could only bring us trouble.”
“Perhaps your brother just wants you to help search for
them, m’lord. If he found them first, he might be able to figure out a way to
save his daughter.”
Rydah nodded as he began pacing again. “That’s probably it.
I just don’t know if I should get involved.”
Jenya thought for a moment. Her limited existence in the
pens didn’t prepare her for such political intrigue, but she did have a woman’s
intuition about love. “This other woman, the princess—does she want to marry
the Lord Acolyte?”
“I don’t know,” he responded, still distracted. “It’s all
arranged. Usually, they would learn to love each other later, like Lord Acolyte
Raparn and Tymir.”
Rydah stopped and cocked his head, as if listening to
something.
Jenya started to speak, then held her tongue. Her lord
appeared to be deep in thought. No doubt he was trying to figure out a
solution.
He straightened up and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he
whispered to himself.
“Pardon,
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