Read Online Meri by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff - Free Book Online

But when a girl appears within these sanctified
walls....” He glanced askew at Bevol. “History should have warned you, brother.
A female is not fit for the Divine Art, not fit to tread the Path to the Sea.
Thoughts of earth and fire boil in their breasts and cloud their minds. Water,
Bevol, water is pure until it comes in contact with earth or fire. Then it is
sullied or boils away.”
    “It seems to me,” said Bevol mildly, “that Meredydd is not
the one whose mind is clouded. If Aelder Wyth has reacted to her in this way, how
is it her fault?”
    “She is fire!” protested Ealad-hach. “And like fire, she
burns, bright and fair and fetching. The fire enchants the moths; the moths are
enticed to their own destruction.”
    Bevol shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning upward.
    “And is that the fault of the flame? The intelligent man
uses flame as a light to guide his footsteps, as a beacon to call the lost to
safety, as a spark with which to start his fire and warm his soul.”
    Calach nodded, pursing his full lips. But Ealad-hach ignored
the remark.
    “Perhaps, brother, if you remove this cailin from
Halig-liath now, history will not repeat itself.”
    The words enticed Meredydd even as they chilled her. What
had history to do with her and in what way was she repeating it?
    The remark brought to mind something Ealad-hach had said in
class about a cailin going as a Prentice from Halig-liath. Curiosity pushing
her fear aside, she might even have asked, but the door behind her opened and
light from the outer hall fanned across the gleaming floor. Meredydd felt the
coursing of dread up her spine and knew the late-comer was Wyth.
    He approached slowly, quietly, treading upon the polished
stone as if it was as slippery as it only looked, circling wide to Meredydd’s
right—away from his mother. He bowed respectfully to the Osraed.
    “Mother,” he said, almost whispering the word. “Mother, what
are you doing here?”
    Moireach Arundel glanced from her son to the Osraed
Ealad-hach. “I am here to see that you become an Osraed instead of a fool. Here
is my son, Osraed Ealad-hach. Ask him if what I’ve said is not true.”
    “You mother charges that Prentice Meredydd is distracting
you from your calling,” said the Osraed. “That you are... enamored of her. Is
this true?”
    Aelder Prentice Wyth’s face was the color of a hen’s egg and
gleamed damply in the broad shaft of dappled light he shared with Meredydd.
    “I...” he said, then his mouth worked for a moment in
silence. He glanced wildly at her out of the corner of his eye, then dropped
his gaze to the floor between his feet. “I’m...”
    He stopped, took a deep breath and tried again. “My feelings
for—that is, my feelings about the Prentice are...very strong. I don’t know if
enamored—”
    “You see!” said Moireach Arundel. “See how he stumbles and
stutters? She has clearly bewitched him.”
    “What?” Wyth looked so startled, Meredydd nearly laughed
aloud—might have if she was not grimly aware of where she was and why.
    “Your mother charges, specifically, that Prentice Meredydd
has attempted to seduce you with an eye on higher marks in your class. That
you, only yesterday, expelled her from your class—”
    Ealad-hach sent Moireach Arundel a significant glance. “—would
seem to support the idea that the cailin’s presence... disturbs you.”
    “No! No, it’s not true!”
    “She does not disturb you?”
    “She does, but—” He shifted nervously from one foot to the
other. “But it’s not that . She’s never tried to-to seduce me. Please, believe
that. I—” He turned his face toward the accused, causing a banner of red light
to fall across it. “She has done nothing.”
    “Then you deny that you are attracted to her?” asked Calach.
    Moireach Arundel rose. “My son is accused of naught. He is
not on trial here.”
    “Moireach, no one is on trial here,” said the Osraed Bevol. “We
merely wish to ascertain