Gallel's Heir Chapter 5.1: A Galian Delicacy

He will be in bondage and wallow in luxury.
The sixth son of the enemy Siran and the Siran Heir of Gallel
will wield the Ball of Lights and Truths to free him,
they and their companions,
and love, peace, knowledge and wisdom shall cover barren places like a garden.
—Sirah Anath Sorrel Albandor of Dunaya

Sunlight from the skylights and from the windows brightened the library to a golden glow, tinged with the solid smell of books. Canúden and Lianna stood in the top level near the soft couches, waiting for Dylin to bring Ophy. Dylin had asked him to stay with Lianna, rather than going with her: Canúden wondered if she wanted to face Ophy, a possible healer, alone. Also, likely she didn’t have the heart to leave little Lianna by herself. Not that there weren’t jens — servants of some authority — to look after her; Dylin told him she didn’t much trust them and avoided using even well-meaning servants unless she had to.

He shook his head. He was no different from other servants, other than being content with his common upbringing. It seemed the higher-ranking servants, who had received jen or del titles with their advancement, were more ashamed than he was with his common den title.

Lianna had been a baby the last time he had been close enough to see her. A baby who had somehow talked like she was the only one who knew what was going on, and had said Canúden would be some great man. He shifted his shoulders at the thought. What did he know about little girls and keeping them entertained? At least being in the library was better than dusting hallways, cleaning toilets, or carrying messages for the kels and sirans of Gallel, even if he didn’t feel right about opening any books as he watched over Lianna.

Now that she was supposedly old enough to talk fairly fluent Gungali, he’d spent nearly the last hour trying to get her to put two words together. Asking her about her favorite books had elicited a shrug; mentioning a composition of hers he’d found on one of the tables gave him no more than a nervous stare. She sat hunched on one of the couches by the window and stared down at her mother’s garden.

“What do you know of Hallel?” he said. Maybe she still knew something.

“Who?” She spared him the quickest of glances and stared again out the window. He grunted.

“Why do you think your sisters are so horrible?” tried Canúden.

Lianna only shrugged again: Children weren’t known for their understanding of the human psyche, of comprehending how Tutang's other wives envied her position as heir for their daughters or sons. Children with arrogant mothers were often mean spirited.

She clenched her doll in her little fists and wouldn’t look at him. Given that he was a man — nothing like the mean guards that must frighten her so, but a man — he appreciated her wariness.

This had turned into a challenge to get her to talk, if only to get her talk-as-a-baby out of his head.
“I think what they need is a little meanness, too,” he said.

She looked at him then. “What d’you mean?”

Encouraged, he sat on the floor so he could be eye level with her. “Well, your mama’s bringing a girl here to play with you. We think the girl’s a healer like your mama.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. Anyway, I was thinking that the three of us could make some sort of plan, so those snobby sisters of yours know they can’t treat you like they do.”

Her eyes brightened with interest. “What’re we going to do?”

“I don’t know," said Canúden. "What’s something they hate?”

She looked at the floor, shoulders slumped. “They hate me.”

“Oh, that’s ‘cause they’re foolish simpletons. I bet they hate getting dirty.”

She looked at him, then nodded and laughed. “Are we going to throw them in mud?”

Amazing how the proper subject could get a child to open up. “Let’s do something a little more subtle that would make them even more upset. I do like the idea of throwing them in mud, but it's not too practical or subtle. Let’s save that for the future. What do they hate that you like?”

“Well," she began slowly, "they hate the forest and little creatures and bugs and stuff.”

“It would be fun to get them lost in the forest, but I don’t think they’d ever go in to get lost. Besides, I don’t think we’d get past the guards.”

“Why don’t we give them frogs or something? Could you do it, Canúden? They wouldn’t trust anything I gave them. You’re a servant so they’d kind of just ignore you.”

He smiled at the honesty of a child. “I’m sure we could find some beauties in your mama’s garden, especially where water tends to collect in those giant roots.”

“Uh huh.” Lianna took to fidgeting with her doll. Canúden attempted to continue the conversation, but it appeared she had run out of things to say in response to him. A blessedly short time later, Dylin entered the library, leading a timid but well-groomed Ophy by the hand. The girl clutched her three cloth dolls in one arm.

“Well?” said Canúden.

“I don’t know yet,” said Dylin, rubbing her hands together. Her eyes were bright, but a bit red, and her cheeks twitched. “I was too nervous to test her.”

He nodded, curious how the girls would respond to each other, two girls he didn’t know, yet had dreamed about in one night.

Lianna stood back with two fingers in her mouth, staring at the visitor. Ophy raised her fingers to Lianna in hello. “I’m Ophia. Your ma brought me to play with you. You sure got a big house.”

“Uh huh,” said Lianna. “I wish I could live in the forest. I only been out there a few times, ‘cause then the guards come and take me back.”

At least she was talking.

“I can come here to play with you, then,” said Ophy. “There’s lots of room.”

“We got a garden we could play in,” said Lianna. Her eyes darted between Ophy and the dolls in Ophy’s arms. “What’re your dolls’ names?”

Ophy handed them one at a time to Lianna. The first was a black velvet rabbit in a blue frock. She had long arms and legs, and stitching held ceramic teeth under the nose. “This is Sima. Her friends’ names are Maddy and kel Dess.” She handed over a girl and a boy doll, both with brown cloth skin and black wool hair. Kel Dess’s hair was plaited in rows like a real royal’s, and he wore a kel-style purple vest. Maddy looked remarkably like Ophy, with the same frizzy hair, and the same dimple in her cheek. Maddy wore a reddish-purple frock.

“They’d prob’ly be forest people,” said Lianna, “except that Dess is a kel and would prob’ly hate it out there.”

“No, Dess isn’t like that. He’s bonded to Maddy, and she’s a forest girl.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“What’s your doll’s name?” said Ophy.

Lianna twitched. “Her… her name is Kaily.”

Ophy smiled. “She’s really pretty. You’re really pretty, too.”

“Thank you,” said Lianna. “I like your squishy dolls. I always feel like I’ll smash Kaily if I dropped her. I can’t play properly with her.”

“I never thought of it that way. You can always play with mine. Is your mama a real healer? She must be, ‘cause I’m not hurt anymore.” Ophy held out her leg in demonstration, though her mauve skirt covered it far past her knees.

“Uh huh,” said Lianna. She nibbled on her fingernail. “She heals all the time, and then she gets sick. But not always.”

“Your mama gets sick!” Ophy’s face tinged with color. “She didn’t get sick after me, did she?”

“Well, not with you, but she doesn’t mind anyway. I mean, she doesn’t like getting sick, but she likes healing, and she doesn’t always get sick, only when she’s hurt.”

“I’m… sorry,” said Ophy. “I’m glad she didn’t get sick with me.” She smiled again.

“I’d like to find out why I didn’t get sick with you, Ophy,” said Dylin. She touched Ophy’s shoulder. “I should have gotten sick.” She spoke slowly. “I... think you might be a healer.”

“Me? What… what does that mean?”

“Do you ever know when someone’s hurt?” said Dylin, kneeling before the girl.

“Sometimes. Doesn’t everybody?”

A weak smile trembled on Dylin’s lips. “Take my hand.” Ophy offered her hand, a delicate shapely thing, with the softness of youth and the sturdiness of a villager. “What do you feel?”

“Your hands are cold.”

“What else do you feel?” Dylin closed her eyes; Canúden assumed she released her wari into Ophia’s hand, and waited for the girl’s wari to return. A tantalizing, tangible energy just at the edge of his perception surrounded them, like the air in a thunderstorm or the joy of expectation, almost dizzying. He forced his breath to come steadily.

“I feel thumping.” Ophia’s eyes widened. “You’re hurt! What happened?”

Canúden’s eyes widened and a smile crossed his cheeks. Dylin laughed, and tears filled her eyes; the girl’s wari must have filtered back. “Yes, I am. Can you touch that hurt?”

Ophia closed her eyes. “I feel it somewhere. In your chest? It’s kind of fuzzy, like it’s only kind of there, but I can feel it. And… there’s more, but I don’t know how to describe it. Like swirls of happy and sad.”

Because of the strange healing at the Penanders’, Dylin wasn’t physically injured as far as Canúden knew. Having to live with Tutang, with her daughter as a veritable prisoner, would likely cause her heart to ache. A torrent of emotion must have filled the woman; happy, well-adjusted people didn’t cut themselves. That she felt compelled to slice her arms indicated a deep frustration and sorrow, a drive to control her pain.

That Ophia could not just sense physical needs but actually feel Dylin’s emotions was remarkable. Such a gift was as rare in mages as wari sense was rare in people.

Dylin embraced her. “Yes, Ophia. You can become a water mage.”

The girl pulled away. “A what?”

“You can sense wari and that means you can heal, at least in time. I’ll teach you how, if you come to play with Lianna every day. Would your father and mother let you be my assistant?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably. My ma thinks I should work. Money, you know.”

“I’ll take care of your family, you’ll be Lianna’s maid.” She kissed Ophia’s forehead. “Do you read?”

“Sure, Da taught me. I can cipher, too. I go to Kampten’s school.”

“You can learn anything you want here, but I’ll teach you how to heal.”

“Do you like frogs, Ophy?” said Canúden.

“I think they’re funny,” she said. “I like to hop and try to catch them.”

That didn’t surprise him, somehow. “Good! You can help me and Lianna then.”

“What do you need with frogs?” said Ophy. Dylin glanced questioningly at him.

He smiled. “Would you like to come for lunch tomorrow? I’ll make my… specialty… for you two and two of Lianna’s mean sisters.”

“All right,” said Ophy with a slight shrug.

“You girls play outside and find some frogs in the Siran’s garden, then,” said Canúden. The girls ran off, laughing with their dolls, and he felt awkward alone with Dylin. In his dream, she was a beloved companion. Here in the library, she was merely a desired companion. Desired, not because of her position — royals could rot in the Void — but because she was Dylin and he’d been more than curious about her for years.

At least she consented to speak to him finally, after months of his working in Gallel.

Dylin frowned with lips that seemed to want to twitch into a smile. With hands on her hips, she seemed to grow taller. Funny how mothers did that. “What do you have planned?”

He shifted his shoulders. “Little siran Hammy refuses to show respect the heir deserves. Sheltered and kind as Lianna is, she doesn’t know how to fight back. So we’re going to have lunch with a couple of her sisters, and if there happens to be some… delicacies which the girls don’t find palatable, it won’t be our fault for trying to expand their palates.”

Dylin rolled her eyes. “I can’t promise to protect you from the other sirans’ wrath. I’m not so sure it would be a good idea, especially as Ophia is new. It wouldn’t be good to get her in trouble.”

“Ten year olds play pranks all the time,” he said. “What kind of permanent damage could she get into?”

“I hate to imagine,” said Dylin. “Not that those girls don’t deserve some reprimand for their behavior. For some reason their mothers think they don’t need discipline.”

“Well, yes. I’m sure that’s a wide misconception among royals, and a major reason royals are so impossible. It’s something Lianna will have to deal with for the rest of her life. But if she will someday be the Chief Councilor of Galia, she’s going to need to know how to gain respect.”

Dylin folded her arms and raised one eyebrow. “Respect by mean tricks?”

“They’re children. Children fight. It would be good for Lianna to learn how to stand up for herself.”

Concern touched Dylin’s eyes; the First Siran was not one to fight either. Apprehensive as she apparently was by nature, and given her situation, she would not like the idea of her daughter becoming the Chief Councilor, the Siran of Galia. She would not like the idea of Lianna needing to fight.

He tried a smile he hoped evinced respect and comfort. “She will be fine. Children have a way of getting away with things. As far as me getting into trouble, if that’s anything you’re concerned with, if it makes you feel better, I will have no part in actually putting the frogs on the sandwiches.”

Staring at the floor, she filled the awkwardness by changing the subject. “Did you find anything about the Ball of Lights?”

Afternoon sunlight glittered from the crystal atop Gallel’s northern tower spire, through the skylight, and danced on dust motes around the library’s history section nearby. “I’m not sure where that blasted book went, probably filed by some random topic in a random chapter.” He managed a look at her face. “I did find a composition written by Lianna. She left it on one of the tables here.” He pointed to a sheet of paper on a table, scrawled on both sides with a child’s almost-neat handwriting.

They sat.

Color tinged her cheeks. “She’s quite the writer.”

“Yes,” he said. “Clever. It was about a rabbit doe that lost her way running from a dog. She found a garden in the forest where she met a little girl named Kaily, who gave her all the carrots she wanted, then helped her find her way home to her little kits. I was impressed by her use of proper terminology, and mostly-correct spelling.” He managed a laugh that silenced his slippery tongue.

But, speaking about a woman’s daughter might be a way to make a good impression.

“Thank you,” she said. Her fingers trembled. “We are friends?”

Raising an eyebrow at her, he said, “This spoken by the First Siran to a lowly village boy?” He shrugged. “We’ve shared a lot for people who don’t know each other very well. But possibly my friendship is beneath you…”

“Not at all, den Ubal.”

“She left some things for you, too,” he said.

“What?”

“I wasn’t sure how to give them to you. I thought of mailing them, but that could have gotten lost among all the other villager-to-royal mail that never gets past the guard house. I thought of sending it in Gizelle’s name, but that would have been a bit heartless to both of us after her death. And now, after so many years, I was not sure how to broach the subject.”

“What did she leave me?”

“She claimed to have left some text books under the hearthstone, but all we found there was ash. There is a little jade rabbit. A few weeks before she died, she showed it to me. Apparently she carved it with her wari, and it survived the fire. That’s one reason why Lianna’s story caught my attention, and why I bothered mentioning it.”

“You can bring it to me tomorrow.” She held out her hand to him and he took it. It was warm now, and soft, and it felt as light as a paper. He wanted to kiss it.

“There is also a necklace, sapphire, in a six-pointed silver setting. I thought it interesting, because I always thought it looked like Galia’s banner, which is strange because she wasn’t Galian. She told me she got it from her favorite master at school. She always wore it. And while she didn’t technically write it in her will for you, she very well may have and it got burned, and it just makes the most sense for you to have it.”

“Thank you, Canúden.” Blushing, she stared at the play of her fingers. His first name sounded nice from her lips. “I’m sure it’s lovely.” Her eyes had hints of honey in sunlight when she looked at him. “I’d like to do something for you because I… well, I just want to. I’ve seen you draw in the library. I’d like to see you develop that.”

His lungs compressed.

“I healed the art master’s bondwoman,” she continued. “Del Allen will give you lessons if I ask him to.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.” The words came out of stiff, awkward lips. “Thank you.” He realized both his hands encompassed hers. That she didn’t pull away frightened him. That it felt right frightened him.

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Image courtesy of casandrarose

Don't miss any of the chapters!
Prologue: River Flowing
Chapter 1.1: Blindness
Chapter 1.2: Eyes Opened
Chapter 1.3: Hallel's Star
Chapter2.1: Hope
Chapter 2.2: Relevance of Freedom
Chapter3.1: Power
Chapter 3.2: Death's Power
Chapter 3.3: Power of Life
Chapter 4.1: Encounters
Chapter 4.2: Encounters