Rook

by Robin Roseau

* * * *

  The panel reviewed the work. Then there were more questions. And then there was a vote.

  Rustaleen collected the vote and then called both applicants to stand before her. She made little show of it. “Journeywoman Tyreen. Journeywoman Gressa. Congratulations.”

  This time, I was able to lead the applause.

  * * * *

  I gave Gressa and Thera leave to spend the night with Gressa’s family, if they liked. Gresa did, but Thera returned to the palace with us. Tyreen declined spending time with Master Berandi, and I barely exchanged two sentences with the woman before she disappeared.

  I didn’t like her at all, but Henrid made up for it.

  I spent the morning in my own lessons with Terél, and it was mid-morning when a page announced the return of Gressa with, “A lot of people.”

  It wasn’t so many. Terél and I stepped from my room and found Gressa with her old master and her family, waiting near the central staircase. I moved to them, all smiles. “Acolyte Journeywoman Gressa,” I said, taking her hands. “I trust your evening was pleasant.”

  “It was, High Priestess Yallameenara,” she said. “Thank you for the time.”

  “You well deserved it,” I said. I then greeted each of the others and said, “Henrid wishes to see our library, but I wish us to begin in our temple. Please.” Then I took Henrid’s arm and led the troop down the hall.

  We stepped into the temple, and I led them around to stand, facing the statue of the Goddess, our back to the windows facing the ocean. Henrid and I looked at the statue, with Gressa and her family clustered around us.

  “This statue is a perfect likeness of Our Prestainamatta,” I said, “The Goddess, Yahamala.” I explained how she had made the statue herself before my very eyes, and those of Princess Juleena, and then sent it here by her divine magic.

  Then I spoke in her words, explaining who the guests were to her temple. If she heard me, I couldn’t have said.

  “How do you know it’s a perfect likeness?” asked Gressa’s sister.

  “Because she stood beside it when it was done, and I compared,” I said.

  “She’s real?”

  “Oh, yes,” I said. “She is most definitely real. There is no doubt.” Then I gestured. “This temple is designed to be comfortable and cozy,” I said. “She told me to make this temple as I would like it, and I am not an ostentatious woman. But let me show you about.”

  I gave a tour, and I explained the words. Henrid wasn’t impressed by the calligraphy and asked what child had done it.

  “Ah. She wasn’t a child, but she didn’t begin to learn to read and write until she was ten and three years old. This is my hand, and I am no scribe.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I-”

  “This is why I am not the one to duplicate our books,” I said. “I know what I am, and what I am not. I am a girl of the horse people. I considered having these copied by a proper scribe, but I decided it was better if they remained like this, done in my own hand. It is not the calligraphy that matters, or the frame. I wanted the focus to be on the meaning of the words themselves.”

  I shrugged. “Perhaps Gressa will do others, for any temples we open. But here in this temple, they will remain of my hand.”

  “I believe I understand,” Henrid said. “I meant no offense.”

  “None was taken. Your assessment is fair.”

  “But you are right,” he countered. “These carry extra meaning when written by your hand.”

  And so we nodded to each other.

  We finished our tour of the words, and then I brought them to the small shelves, and I explained not the individual gifts, but the meaning of them as a whole. “And before you say anything, Henrid, some of the notes were clearly produced by a proper scribe, but many are in the hand of the gift giver.”

  He laughed. “I understand,” he said. “A gift should arrive with a note, and the note should be in the giver’s hand. This is proper.”

  “This is proper,” I agreed. I smiled. “This note is of the queen’s hand.”

  I gave them a few minutes to mill about. Terél and I answered a few questions, and then I said, “Our library here is small, but it is what you came to see, Master Henrid. Shall we?”

  Our library was, indeed, quite small. Still, Henrid spent several minutes looking through the books, even taking a few from the shelves and paging through them. Then he asked, “What language is this?”

  I glanced at it. “The Goddess speaks her own language. This is something your great niece has begun to learn.”

  “The letters are ours, but they carry the accents of Altearan.”

  “She is a Goddess of Alteara,” I said, the only explanation that should be necessary. “As you can see, the books are simple, but they have great meaning to us.” I paused. “Are you disappointed by what you find? We have books that are illustrated and illuminated, but very few, and none here.”

  “I will be disappointed if my niece’s skills are stifled,” he said. “I imagine what you would like is an army of copyists to duplicate what you have. Instead, you have at least two scribes, Lady Yallameenara. Do you see the difference?”

  “You have a suggestion?”

  “Give them freedom to produce your new books the way they desire,” he said. “Allow them to express themselves. Your younger girls can be copyists, overseen by your two new journeywomen, and then they can add beauty to these books.”

  “You saw the work I did,” I said. “Did you understand why I did it in my own hand?”

  “Yes, Lady Yallameenara. You do not wish to detract from the words.”

  “That is it exactly.”

  “But did you enjoy looking at the work Gressa and Tyreen produced yesterday?” He didn’t pause to let me answer. “A good scribe will enhance the words, not detract from them.”

  “I have seen books that are works of art,” I said.

  “As have I,” he said. “But that is not what I am suggesting. Those books are that way because some patron wanted a heavily illuminated work, and had little care for the words contained. And the scribe produced what the patron desired. You wish books where the words, and the meaning of the words, are what matter. And if your scribes know this, that is what they will produce.” He paused. “Well, Gressa will. I should not speak for Tyreen’s judgment.”

  “Queen Ralalta tells me her best advice is to find the right person for a job, and then let that person do the job,” I observed.

  “Yes, exactly. We are blessed with a very wise queen.”

  “We are,” I agreed. “Master Henrid, I very much enjoy your company and value your wisdom.”

  He patted my hand. “Thank you, Lady Yallameenara. You are gracious to an old man.”

  “Was there more you would like to see here, or should we lead our troop to lunch? I believe Princess Lásenalta has chosen somewhere quite delightful.”

  “The princess is to join us?”

  “Possibly both princesses,” I said. “That is unclear. But I hope you will sit beside me.”

  “I would be delighted.”

  It turned out that yes, Juleena joined us. Yes, Henrid sat beside me. Yes, we had a lovely time, and I secured a promise for him to warn us when he would be in Marport, as I would enjoy his company in the future.

  He was everything my own grandfather was not, and over the years to follow, I would come to value the rare times we spent together.

  Expansion

  “Your Majesty,” I said over dinner.

  “Seriously, Yalla?” she said. “Your Majesty?”

  “The High Priestess wishes a moment of your wisdom.”

  “Well, well,” she said. “A serious topic indeed. But could we please use names?”

  “I only wished to use a symbol of recognition for what I am asking,” I said. “We need to talk about school for my acolytes. And.”

  “And?”

  “I believe it is time to build a temple for all of Marport. I don’t know how to build a
temple. I cannot imagine Lady Malta could oversee the work the way she did our temple here in the palace. I don’t know where to put the temple. I don’t know how to take care of it. I don’t know if I am being deeply foolish.”

  “Has our Prestainamatta advised you?”

  “No, but I have been thinking about how she could not travel here. I want a temple here. When I have priestesses to manage them, I want temples in the other major cities in Framara. I want shrines as well. Would people defile the shrines?”

  “I cannot promise they won’t, but the Framarans are good people, Yalla. You know that.”

  “I don’t know what any of this costs. I don’t know if I can afford to do what I want. I don’t know if we should begin with shrines and grow.” Then I sighed. “And I do not want the temples to be...” I trailed off. “I have read descriptions of the temples in other countries. They seem so grand. I am afraid if I build temples the way I see them, the people will be unimpressed.”

  “Some will,” Ralalta said. “But some will see them for what they are. I do not think you should worry about that. I believe you should think about the type of person who would be most receptive to the words of our Prestainamatta, and build a temple comfortable for that person.”

  “I believe it is time I begin to properly minister to our people here, Ralalta. I believe we should be doing here what my priestesses already do in Alteara, although we are so few. But that would mean I would have even less time to see to the things you need from me.”

  “Yalla,” she said. “If you are able to schedule your time away around my needs at major events, I will be more than satisfied.” She gestured, and one of the pages stepped forward. “Would you see when Lady Malta is available? I do not wish to interrupt what she is doing, but if I could see her this evening, at her convenience, that would be lovely. Perhaps she would join us for dessert. If she is unavailable, I will see her tomorrow.”

  The boy gave a quick bow and said, “Yes, Your Majesty.” And then he scampered off.

  Ralalta turned to me. “What does your household say?”

  “Yes, Yalla,” Larien asked archly. “What does your household say?”

  I looked down. “I may not have asked them about this yet,” I muttered. But then I looked up. “We wouldn’t do anything without all of us agreeing. But am I wrong?”

  “You are wrong not to talk to Terél and me,” she said. “Otherwise, what you have said is good. It is time for these conversations.” She paused. “Your Majesty, I am about to say something that will not please you.”

  “You want to return to Alteara somewhat earlier than the winter solstice,” Ralalta said.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Larien said.

  “And what do you think, High Priestess?” Ralalta asked.

  I hung my head again. Larien was right.

  “I see,” said the queen. “Juleena, one of us needs to go with her. I wouldn’t suppose you would let me?”

  “Mother...” Juleena said. She paused. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “I know you do,” Ralalta said gently. “You’re ready.”

  “Don’t you dare abdicate, Mother!” Juleena said. And then she looked around and covered her mouth, realizing that was not the sort of thing to say with an audience.

  But Ralalta leaned over and clasped Juleena’s hand. “Not yet, my darling,” she said. The two smiled at each other, but then Ralalta lifted her hand and pointed at Juleena, Alta, and me, one after another. “I want at least one more grandbaby,” she said. “I would prefer several more. Our Prestainamatta has promised to leave me at least two for the succession. I am not sure if the ministers would approve Dessa.” Dessa was born of Alta, and was my daughter, not Juleena’s.

  “I believe we should begin planning for the future,” Alta said. “But Yalla, I would rather you not begin constructing a temple yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.” She paused. “I think I’m pregnant.”

  And at her words, a second connection flared between me and Princess Lásenalta, a connection to a tiny, tiny life within. And I felt the Goddess for a moment, and her words. “Congratulate Lásenalta and Juleena for me.” And then she left me again, but I remained filled with her love.

  “Alta,” I whispered. “You are. Our Prestainamatta offers congratulations to you and Juleena.”

  And then there was nothing to be done but much hugging, and a little crying, and our daughters getting involved in the chaos, and that was when Lady Malta stepped into the room.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  We all turned to her. “No, Malta,” Ralalta said. “Alta is with child.” She turned to me. “Yalla, is it a boy or a girl?”

  I moved back to my wife, then knelt before her and set my hands on her stomach, still quite flat. But I extended my awareness, trying to get a sense for the life within. And then I looked up at her. “I am sure it is no surprise.”

  “A girl,” Alta said. “Good. I like girls.”

  “I like girls, too,” Juleena said. “I would think she’d have talked to us before getting us pregnant again.”

  “Um,” I said.

  “Um?” Juleena echoed.

  “Um,” said Ralalta.

  Juleena spun to her mother. “Um?” she asked archly.

  “We may not have relayed every conversation we had with her,” Ralalta said.

  “And it may have been discussed that you should have one more daughter,” Alta said. “At least one more. And it may have come up that you would rather I carry it than you carry it. Was I wrong?”

  Juleena answered by kissing Alta.

  “Congratulations, Princess Juleena,” said Malta. “Congratulations, Princess Lásenalta.”

  “Thank you, Lady Malta,” Juleena said for them both.

  “Is this why you summoned me, Your Majesty?”

  “Actually, no,” Ralalta said. “I hope we didn’t interrupt your evening.”

  “No, no,” said Malta.

  “Please, pull up a seat.” She offered Alta one final hug, and then we all took our seats again. “We require your guidance, Malta.”

  “My guidance.”

  “Well, first, do I have appointments tomorrow?”

  “Why do I think you’re about to cancel all of them?”

  “Not at all. I am about to cancel most of Princess Juleena’s appointments, and she will take mine.”

  “Mother,” Juleena said. “Don’t you think I want to be involved?”

  “Oh. Of course you do. I’m sorry, Malta, I am cancelling not only my morning appointments, but Princess Juleena’s, Princess Lásenalta’s, and Lady Yallameenara’s as well.”

  Malta sighed. “Of course, your majesty.”

  “I wish to call on Westhaven Academy and Merkel’s School for Girls. I know this is short notice, and I would not normally ask you to act as our secretary.”

  “I will arrange it, Your Majesty.”

  “And this is still not why we asked you to join us, Malta,” Ralalta said. “High Priestess Yallameenara raised a variety of questions, and I would not wish to answer them without your involvement.”

  “How can I help, Lady Yallameenara?”

  We brought her in on the conversation so far. “There are questions without answers, and assumptions, without confirmation. The first assumption is this: you could not remotely oversee this for me the way you did my temple here in the palace.”

  “I wish I could, Yalla,” she said warmly. “I would absolutely love to help you. What I can do is help you find the right people, when you’re ready for them.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Malta,” I replied. “Thank you.”

  * * * *

  I expected a small retinue in the morning. I was quite surprised.

  “Tiera!” I said. I closed the distance, and we hugged. “Did we have an appointment this morning?”

  “Princess Lásenalta sent a message to be here this morning, and to bring my sketch pad.” She lifted her hand and waved
her small burden. “I have no idea why.”

  “Neither do I,” I admitted. “But I’m sure Alta has a good reason.”

  She exchanged greetings with Larien and Terél. A moment later, Ralalta and Juleena joined us. We spoke for a minute, and then Alta descended the staircase, Gressa and Tyreen with her. I raised an eyebrow, and she simply mouthed, “Trust me.”

  And so, we were quite the troop as we bundled into two carriages. “What aren’t you telling me, Alta?”

  “I’m sure quite a bit,” she replied.

  And so, quite maturely, I stuck my tongue out at her. Ralalta laughed.

  We came first to Westhaven Academy, located in the heart of Marport, not far from one of...

  It was odd, the things that came to me at the oddest times. I break my life into stages. I had my childhood, spent on The Hippa, which lasted until my ten and fourth summer. And then I had my teen years, spent in Marport, and with nearly every important moment dominated by Muranna’s presence. That ended the day I woke at sea with a bad hangover and the knowledge I’d been betrayed. And the final stage, at least to this point, was everything since, my years as High Priestess.

  Westhaven Academy was located in the heart of Marport, not far from one of Muranna’s favorite streets for shopping.

  It took a minute to shake that off. If anyone noticed my moments of melancholy, they said nothing.

  But I did shake it off. So where was I? Ah. Westhaven. Heart of Marport. Right.

  The campus consumed a rectangle two blocks deep and four blocks wide, but this was a very old section of Marport, with narrower blocks than might be found in other parts of the city. Still, discounting the castle grounds and the waterfront, it was the largest property in what was sometimes called Old Marport. If one traveled away from the city center, one would find other large properties -- my stomping grounds, the race track, was only one such example -- but there were no other properties in Old Marport that spanned more than two blocks, and that was a park.

  We approached Westhaven from what might be considered the front, I suppose, which was the center of a two-block segment. The property was ringed by a stone and iron fence, but there was a large, arched entry. It was gated, but the gates were opened widely, and I had never seen them closed. The carriages came to a stop immediately before the gates, and we climbed out, gathered together, and then passed through the gate and onto the academy grounds.