“I know,” she said.Jerrold saw the crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes crinkle as she fought to hide a smile.“Not nearly as fun as knife fighting.”There was real sympathy in her voice.“But just as important.”
“Aye, Gran,” Cirda said.“Can I be excused?I want to go practice some.”
“After you see to those clothes of yours,” Bercie said.“You left them crumpled on the floor last night.You aren’t leaving them for me to wash.”
“Aw, Gran,” Cirda complained.
“See to them,” Jerrold said.“Then come out to the yard and show me that move.”
Cirda lit up with a grin and bolted, the door slamming shut behind him.The quiet crept back into the room.
“A scribe, my ass.”Jerrold scowled and glanced at his mother.“Scribes don’t just walk through portals.”
“Yes, dear,” Bercie said.
“Those kids were supposed to be protecting us, watching them,” Jerrold growled.“Not playing with them.How many of the young ones are out there, anyway?”He bit into his chicken leg and tore the meat off the bone.
“Six or seven,” Mother Bercie said.“All about Cirda’s age.”She took a sip of kav.“The Blood are feeding them.Their stores can’t be generous—”
“We provide most of it,” Jerrold pointed out.
“But she’s feeding them, the Lady High Baroness,” Bercie observed, looking down at her plate.“How did things go at the quarry?”
Jerrold made sure to swallow before he spoke.He’d taken the Lord High Baron to the marble works the other day.“Fine,” he said grudgingly.“Orval asks more questions than a passel of kids, except he seems honestly interested.”
“About?”
“About the tools, and the methods, and whether it’s safe to cut marble.”Jerrold snorted.“Safe,” he shook his head.“Not so much about ‘how valuable’ or ‘how fast’ butsafe?And no mention of tithes, taxes, or fees.”
“He cares.”Bercie pushed back her plate and poured more kav for both of them.“It was his idea to move his family rather than demand we fix up the keep.”She tilted her head.“And didn’t he suggest we rig scaffolding and scattered tools about, make it look like it’s being repaired, in case any ask questions?”
“Aye,” Jerrold begrudged it, but truth was truth.He pushed his own plate back, and took up his kav.Hot and dark and bitter, just as he liked.“He wants to send a messenger to Edenrich.To the King.Says it’s better to fill their heads withhiswords, before they get their own ideas.Wants to write to the king about starting up the old quarry, and how there’s need to train oxen and men, and rebuild the quarry works.Says he’ll let me read anything he gives the messenger before it’s sealed.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“I was thinking of sending Rasfel to Edenrich.He’s some city experience.”
Bercie nodded.“I hadn’t given a thought to the oxen,” she murmured.
“In the old days, we had trained oxen and stone-singers.But not now.”Jerrold sighed.“That Orval is smart, I’ll grant you that.”
She arched an eyebrow.“And forthcoming.”
“So far.”Jerrold said.“And yes, he’s asked us for almost nothing beyond what is necessary—well, except for paper and books.Who has books?”He shook his head.
“He’s trading his scribe skills for tangibles,” Mother Bercie pointed out.“And his people’s skills.The Lady of Laughter help that Rosalind if she tries to teach them manners.”
“She’s snooty,” Jerrold grumbled, then grimaced.“I’m to ride out this afternoon, go over some old maps he found at the manor.Lanning asked me to inquire if that Rosalind would be willing to teach his youngest, Dayva, fancy stitching, in trade for labor.Seems she isn’t interested in carpentry, more into the weaving and sewing like her mum.”
“Just because Rosalind sounds ‘snooty’ doesn’t mean that there aren’t real dangers to royal Court life,” his mother said.“I have memories, but she has experience.As does Captain Roth.And apparently, Yfin.”
Jerrold stared into his dark, pitiless kav.“Wonder if Cirda realizes he may need to use those skills against them some day.”
For a long moment there was no sound but the quiet crackle of the fire.
“Against a cripple and a woman with babes?”Bercie asked, her voice low.
“Ma,” Jerrold spoke slowly, not looking up, “I know you cared for his aunt and I know I am named for her husband, but that Orval is of the Blood of Xy.Can we really trust them?”
