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women. How the Chosen Beauty handled this varied from
one to the next, but for all of them it was wearing. The Swordsman had held his
role for forty-four years; no Beauty had ever lasted t hat long, and he
doubted any ever would. Whether even magic could keep a woman supernaturally
beautiful for several decades was an open question, and one that showed no sign
of being answered any time soon.
"I don't know
much about the woman who was the B eauty when I was first chosen," the old
man said. "She had held the post about a dozen years, I think, and had had
enough of it. She did no traveling anymore, and resigned the role before I had
gotten around to meeting her. Her successor made a point of finding me,
though—and bedding me, as I was young and handsome then, not the battered ruin
you see now."
"Bedding you?" Harp asked,
startled.
"Oh, yes. And if you're thinking that
might have become complicated, such a relationship between two of the Chosen,
you should consider that human nature is such that the woman universally
acknowledged to be the most beautiful in the world cannot be visibly pregnant;
therefore, the ler of her talisman would not allow her to
conceive. That was a part of her magic. That w as one reason she gave up the role
later."
"But. .. She
tracked you down in order to bed you?" Harp persisted. "But she
didn't know you."
"Yes, well, she was ... a little odd, perhaps. But also, she
wanted a man her magic didn't affect. I think she wanted to prove she could
seduce a man without magic. Not that that was at all difficult in my case, back
then."
"Her magic didn't affect you?"
Breaker asked.
"No, of course not—haven't I told you
about that?"
"No."
"Oh." The old man looked slightly
embarrassed, for the first time since Breaker had met him in the pavilion the
night of the harvest dance. "That's part of being Chosen. We're . .. well, not immune to magic, exactly, but almost. None of us are
affected by each other's magic, nor can the Wizard Lord's magic harm us
directly. In general, the ler bound to us
protect us—didn't you notice I had no ara feathers on my cloak when I arrived?"
"I did," Breaker admitted. "I
had heard that the Chosen had magical protections of their own, stronger than ara feathers , but I hadn't known you were immune to each other's magic."
"We are. So Boss is persuasive but can't
order us to do something suicidal, and the Beauty is beautiful but not irresistible,
and so on."
"Boss?"
"The Leader. The other nicknames change,
but I think the Leader is always called Boss. Certainly the two I've known were
both called Boss."
"You've known two?"
The old man sighed. "Breaker, I've known
at least two of all the Chosen—I'm the oldest of the eight
by more than a decade. Seer is next, then Lo re . . ."
"Lore?"
"The current Scholar. His predecessor
was an old man called Tales—I'm not sure what happened to him after he retired,
but he must be long dead by now. But you know, I'm wrong—Lore wasn't next after
Seer, the Beauty was. Since I've never met her, I forgot for a moment. So it
was Seer, Beauty, Lore, and then I think it must have been the Thief."
"Does he have a nickname, like Boss and
Lore?"
"The Thief? I don't know—I told you,
I've never met her."
"Her?"
"Yes. This time. The one before was a
man." Breaker nodded. "How long has she been the Thief, then?"
"A long time,
but she was very young when she took the role." He sighed. "The
Speaker would be next—poor little Babble! And then the new Boss, and finally
Bow, taking over from Arrow as the Archer. I only met Bow once—he made a point
of coming to find me and introduce himself, and show me some of his archery.
That was just a few years ago. He could do amazing things, just as I can with a
sword, but I can't say I was impressed with him."
"Tell me about all of
them!"
The old man sighed again, and kept talking.
For some time after that, every night after
Spider and Fidget had retired the Old Swordsman told Breaker and
one to the next, but for all of them it was wearing. The Swordsman had held his
role for forty-four years; no Beauty had ever lasted t hat long, and he
doubted any ever would. Whether even magic could keep a woman supernaturally
beautiful for several decades was an open question, and one that showed no sign
of being answered any time soon.
"I don't know
much about the woman who was the B eauty when I was first chosen," the old
man said. "She had held the post about a dozen years, I think, and had had
enough of it. She did no traveling anymore, and resigned the role before I had
gotten around to meeting her. Her successor made a point of finding me,
though—and bedding me, as I was young and handsome then, not the battered ruin
you see now."
"Bedding you?" Harp asked,
startled.
"Oh, yes. And if you're thinking that
might have become complicated, such a relationship between two of the Chosen,
you should consider that human nature is such that the woman universally
acknowledged to be the most beautiful in the world cannot be visibly pregnant;
therefore, the ler of her talisman would not allow her to
conceive. That was a part of her magic. That w as one reason she gave up the role
later."
"But. .. She
tracked you down in order to bed you?" Harp persisted. "But she
didn't know you."
"Yes, well, she was ... a little odd, perhaps. But also, she
wanted a man her magic didn't affect. I think she wanted to prove she could
seduce a man without magic. Not that that was at all difficult in my case, back
then."
"Her magic didn't affect you?"
Breaker asked.
"No, of course not—haven't I told you
about that?"
"No."
"Oh." The old man looked slightly
embarrassed, for the first time since Breaker had met him in the pavilion the
night of the harvest dance. "That's part of being Chosen. We're . .. well, not immune to magic, exactly, but almost. None of us are
affected by each other's magic, nor can the Wizard Lord's magic harm us
directly. In general, the ler bound to us
protect us—didn't you notice I had no ara feathers on my cloak when I arrived?"
"I did," Breaker admitted. "I
had heard that the Chosen had magical protections of their own, stronger than ara feathers , but I hadn't known you were immune to each other's magic."
"We are. So Boss is persuasive but can't
order us to do something suicidal, and the Beauty is beautiful but not irresistible,
and so on."
"Boss?"
"The Leader. The other nicknames change,
but I think the Leader is always called Boss. Certainly the two I've known were
both called Boss."
"You've known two?"
The old man sighed. "Breaker, I've known
at least two of all the Chosen—I'm the oldest of the eight
by more than a decade. Seer is next, then Lo re . . ."
"Lore?"
"The current Scholar. His predecessor
was an old man called Tales—I'm not sure what happened to him after he retired,
but he must be long dead by now. But you know, I'm wrong—Lore wasn't next after
Seer, the Beauty was. Since I've never met her, I forgot for a moment. So it
was Seer, Beauty, Lore, and then I think it must have been the Thief."
"Does he have a nickname, like Boss and
Lore?"
"The Thief? I don't know—I told you,
I've never met her."
"Her?"
"Yes. This time. The one before was a
man." Breaker nodded. "How long has she been the Thief, then?"
"A long time,
but she was very young when she took the role." He sighed. "The
Speaker would be next—poor little Babble! And then the new Boss, and finally
Bow, taking over from Arrow as the Archer. I only met Bow once—he made a point
of coming to find me and introduce himself, and show me some of his archery.
That was just a few years ago. He could do amazing things, just as I can with a
sword, but I can't say I was impressed with him."
"Tell me about all of
them!"
The old man sighed again, and kept talking.
For some time after that, every night after
Spider and Fidget had retired the Old Swordsman told Breaker and
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