Mordant's Need

by Stephen R. Donaldson

  If anything she said offended the Domne, however, he didn’t show it. ‘Families,’ he murmured mildly. ‘They are endlessly interesting. Elega and her father. Geraden and Nyle. Sometimes I think the fate of the world depends on how people feel about their families.

  ‘What sort of family do you come from, Terisa? Did you have sisters? Not six sisters, by any chance?’

  The idea was so absurd that she almost laughed aloud. ‘No, Da. I was an only child.’

  He looked at her again, more sharply this time. ‘Do you mean to say that after you your parents were able to restrain their enthusiasm for children? Were you that bad? Or were you so good that any other child would be a disappointment?’

  ‘No,’ she answered as candidly as she could. ‘I was an accident. My father sure didn’t have time for children. And he didn’t want my mother to have time either.’

  ‘“Didn’t have time”?’ Abruptly, the Domne pushed his sore leg off the stool. Grimacing, he shifted the position of the stool so that he could face her more directly, then heaved his leg back onto it. Propped straight with his elbows on the table, he asked, ‘What vital and consuming work did your father do, that he “didn’t have time for children”?’

  Unsure of where the discussion was headed – and uncomfortable because she was always uncomfortable when she talked about her parents – Terisa replied briefly, ‘He made money.’

  Odd how both she and the Domne were speaking of her father in the past tense. But she thought about him in the past, as part of something which wasn’t true anymore.

  ‘For what purpose?’ inquired the Domne.

  She shrugged. ‘To make more money. I don’t think he had any other reason for doing it. He did it because that was what he was good at.’ She thought about conversations she had overheard from the dining room while she sat out of sight on the stairs, listening when her parents thought she had gone to bed. ‘Money was the best way to get things that weren’t his. Social standing. Political influence.’ Then she remembered some of the valets her father had hired. Muscle.

  ‘He made money because he believed if you can do that you can buy everything else.’

  ‘Very strange,’ pronounced the Domne. ‘He would have flourished in Cadwal.

  ‘And what did your mother do while your father made money?’

  With an understated vehemence which unsettled her, Terisa said, ‘I think she practiced.’

  ‘“Practiced”?’

  ‘Being ornamental. So my father could show her off whenever he was in the mood.’

  ‘“Women should be seen and not heard”?’ The Domne couldn’t restrain a burst of laughter. ‘That explains where you got your beauty. Terisa, I don’t know how to tell you this – but I think you’ve already met High King Festten. Even though you wouldn’t recognize him if you saw him.’

  Terisa tried to smile, but she didn’t succeed.

  The Domne studied her; sunlight from the windows reflected in his eyes. ‘However, that raises a fascinating question. How did you get here from there? How did the daughter of parents like that become the kind of woman my youngest son – perhaps my best son – would kill for?’

  She wanted to answer him. At the same time, she wanted to stop talking about her parents. Roughly, she told him something that she hadn’t revealed to anyone else in Mordant, not even to Geraden.

  ‘When I did something my father didn’t like, he used to lock me in a closet until I got scared enough to stop crying.’

  For a long moment, the Domne stared at her without expression, as if the energy of life had been wiped off his face. Then, slowly, carefully, he turned away. He took his leg from the stool in order to put it back in its former position, toward the window. He settled himself again with his leg up and his spine stretched against the back of the chair; he might have been getting comfortable for a nap.

  After that, one at a time, he picked up his canes and flung them out the window. The first sailed clear; the second clattered against the frame and fell just outside.

  So fiercely that she winced, he whispered, ‘What are you doing to me, Joyse? Everybody who is worth anything in your entire kingdom is being hurt, and I’m sitting here crippled. What are you doing?’

  There was nothing she could say. Geraden had surely told his father what she knew about the King’s intentions. There was nothing else.

  Briefly, the Domne put his hands over his face, and his shoulders clenched. Almost at once, however, he rubbed his cheeks briskly, as if he were scrubbing passion off his features; with a long, slow exhalation, he let his anger go.

  ‘It’s remarkable, don’t you think,’ he murmured, ‘that we’re such good friends, King Joyse and I?

  ‘Of course, that isn’t the reason our friendship is famous. It’s famous because I refused to fight in any of his wars. I refused to let him make me into one of his soldiers. People consider that strange. Don’t I think Mordant is worth fighting for? Of course I do. Don’t I think his ideal of a Congery that turns Imagery into something benign is worth fighting for? Of course I do. Then why don’t I fight? What’s the matter with me?

  ‘But I think our friendship is more remarkable than anything I have or haven’t refused to do in my life.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Terisa asked, wanting him to go on.

  ‘Well—’ The Domne spread his hands. ‘We have next to nothing in common. For one thing, he has little sense of humor. He’s not incapable of seeing the funny side. He just thinks on such an heroic scale. Everything is serious – everything is a matter of life and death. You don’t have much time for jokes when you’re busy saving the world.

  ‘Terisa, it would never occur to me to save the world. I don’t object to the world being saved. In fact, I want it to be saved. I just can’t imagine that it has anything to do with me.

  ‘There’s a cottonwood tree down by the river. It lost a branch in a heavy snowfall this winter, and now sap is starting to leak from the wound. If someone doesn’t go down there soon, trim the stump, and cover it with pitch, that tree is going to die. Blights or parasites will get in through the wound.

  ‘That has something to do with me.

  ‘One of our shepherds has a ewe that keeps dropping stillborn lambs. That has something to do with me. There’s a woman in a farmstead a few miles away who suffers from a strange fever, and the only thing that helps her is a brew made from the bark of a tree that doesn’t grow in Domne. It grows in the Care of Armigite. That has something to do with me.

  ‘If you asked me to save the world, I wouldn’t know how.

  ‘King Joyse knows how. Or he thinks he does, anyway.’

  Terisa thought that perhaps King Joyse and his old friend had more in common than the Domne appeared to realize. Problems should be solved by those who see them. But she preferred the Domne’s way of doing it. Controlling her tendency to get angry whenever she thought about the King, she inquired, ‘Then why are you friends?’

  ‘I’m not sure I can explain it,’ he said musingly. ‘We need each other.

  ‘When I first met him – when he chased away the minor Cadwal prince who had been using the Care of Domne as his private vassalage for the better part of a decade and set us free – I hadn’t thought to refuse anything. I had as much fire in my blood as any young man who had just been released from a servitude he hated, and I seem to recall that I was perfectly willing to start learning how to use a sword.

  ‘But when I actually met him—

  ‘Terisa, that smile of his went right through my heart. As if it came down to me from the sky, I knew that I loved him. And I knew that the Care of Domne was never going to be what I wanted it to be if he didn’t protect it. And I knew that he needed something from me – something he wasn’t going to be able to get from anybody else.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Balance,’ replied the Domne distinctly. ‘He needed balance. He wanted to save the world. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Men who want to save the world – and wh
o make a few mistakes – become tyrants. The things they really want and love slip out of their fingers, and they end up clinging to the power because it’s all they have left. The possibility was written all over him. He was the brightest and keenest man I had ever met – the kind of man who just naturally makes you want to lie down in the dirt for him – and I simply couldn’t bear the idea that he might go too far and turn all the good in him rotten.

  ‘It all came to me in a burst, like a sunrise. And it terrified me, because if I refused him he might just ride away and leave the Care of Domne to fend for itself. But it was necessary. We needed each other.

  ‘He rode into Houseldon, as bright as a new day, but I stood my ground as if I had the right to it. “Well, my lord Domne,” he said with that smile, wringing my heart because until he came I’d never believed that I would be lord of my own land, “you’re free. At least for a while. How many men can you give me?”

  ‘“None, my lord King,” I said.

  ‘“What, none?” He stopped smiling. I seem to remember he put his hand on his sword.

  ‘I was terrified, but I said, “This is the foaling season. I need every man I have.”

  ‘He was angry, furious. But he was also perplexed. “Let me understand you,” he said. “Domne has been butchered back and forth between Alend and Cadwal for generations. You’ve been a vassal yourself your entire life until today. And all you care about is your sheep?”

  ‘I swear to you, Terisa, his anger nearly blinded me. And I was getting a crick in my neck from staring up at him. “I didn’t say that, my lord King,” I replied. “You asked how many men I can send away to be killed in your wars. The answer is, none. I need help with my foals.”

  ‘He really has very little sense of humor. But he has a wonderful sense of joy. Or had. Instead of splitting my head open, he started to laugh.

  ‘That night, we had one of the best feasts I’ve ever attended. I thought he was going to laugh for days. He kept saying, “Sheep. Sheep,” and falling out of his chair.

  ‘We’ve been friends ever since.’

  Terisa was surprised to find that she felt like crying. She knew what King Joyse’s smile was like. From the first, she had wanted to like him, please him; she had wanted to serve him. The Domne reminded her of that – and of the fact that it was impossible. King Joyse himself had made it impossible.

  In a soft voice, she asked, ‘And now? Are you still friends now?’ After what he did to Nyle and Geraden and his own daughters? After what he’s doing to the Congery and Mordant?

  Slowly, the Domne turned his head, shifted his gaze from the window to look at her. His eyes seemed partially blind – adjusted to the brightness outside and unable to make her out clearly.

  ‘He isn’t responsible for Nyle’s choices. He isn’t even responsible for Castellan Lebbick’s sanity. Both of them could have trusted him. At the same time, he went to a lot of trouble to keep you and Geraden as safe as he could.

  ‘He’s still my friend, Terisa. We need each other. Do you really want me to turn my back on him?’

  After a while, she found that she was able to say, ‘No.’ In spite of her anger, she had no intention of turning her own back on the King.

  THIRTY-THREE

  PEACE IN HOUSELDON

  She was determined to do something for Geraden.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t know what.

  In an odd way, her conversation with the Domne had crystallized her resolve. At the same time, the things he had revealed about his family and King Joyse hadn’t shed any useful light. So she wanted to help Geraden. Good: so what? When she got right down to it, what could she actually say to him? Don’t be so hurt, it isn’t worth it? Nonsense. Snap out of it, you’re just feeling sorry for yourself? Ridiculous. I’m sure you can beat Master Eremis if you put your mind to it? Perfect.

  Thinking about him wrung her heart, but she didn’t know what to do.

  Soon the Domne became even less helpful. Gazing out the window with his arms folded over his lean chest, he slipped abruptly into a nap. He was older than he looked, after all. Terisa studied his posture for a moment to make sure that he wasn’t about to fall out of his chair. Then she got to her feet; she wanted to go outside and see more of Houseldon.

  Before she reached the door, it opened, and a man came in off the porch.

  He was brown: that was her first impression. Years of outdoor labor had left his skin the same deep color as his leather jerkin and breeches. His hair was the color of the new mud on his old boots. And his eyes were nearly the same hue as his skin and clothes; they seemed to get lost in his general brownness. In fact, most of the details of his face and expression were blurred. Behind the brown, he looked like a cross between a turnip and a fence post.

  But then he smiled – shyly, almost deferentially – and his smile pulled his features into definition. Immediately, it became obvious that he was one of Geraden’s brothers.

  He glanced at the Domne, saw that his father was asleep. Gesturing for silence, he put a hand on Terisa’s arm and drew her outside. As soon as they reached the porch, however, he let go of her as if he felt his touch was presumptuous and had only risked it to avoid disturbing the Domne. He even backed a step or two away from her.

  ‘Hello, Terisa,’ he said earnestly, without quite meeting her eyes. ‘I’m Minick. Geraden sent me to get you.’

  ‘Hello, Minick,’ she replied. ‘I’m glad to meet you.’

  As if she had surprised him, he asked, ‘You are?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m glad to meet Geraden’s family. I’m glad to be in Houseldon – in the Care of Domne.’ This was so true that she didn’t know how to explain it. ‘I’ve wanted to meet all of you for a long time.’

  Minick seemed to recognize the inadequacy behind her words. ‘Well, I’m glad to meet you, too. I wasn’t sure before. I don’t like it when Geraden’s unhappy. But now I am.’

  He baffled her a bit. ‘What makes you sure?’

  He indicated the house with a lift of one shoulder. ‘You were in the room with the Domne,’ he explained, ‘and now he’s taking a nap. He trusts you. So you must be all right. You aren’t the reason Geraden’s unhappy.’

  Minick’s confidence was so unjustified that Terisa felt compelled to say, ‘It’s probably more complicated than that. Sometimes I think I am the reason he’s unhappy – sort of. I have a lot to do with a lot of things that hurt him.’

  ‘No.’ Minick shook his head mildly. ‘It isn’t complicated. You’re like him. He always thinks things are complicated. But they aren’t. Important things are simple. He needs somebody to love him. That’s simple. The Domne trusts you. That’s simple. So now I can be glad to meet you, when I wasn’t sure before.’

  Unexpectedly, she found herself relaxing. ‘I guess you’re right.’ A world of difficulties apparently evaporated when Minick touched them. ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way.

  ‘Let’s go see Geraden.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Minick became suddenly serious. ‘That isn’t what he wants. He’s too busy.’ For a second, the brown man almost shuddered. ‘When he gets like this, he yells at people a lot. He thinks they’re fast. He’s fast, and he thinks they are, too. But they aren’t fast. They’re just farmers and shepherds. They’re like me. They like having things explained to them.’

  The thought of Geraden ranting with impatience was so incongruous that Terisa nearly laughed aloud. At the same time, it gave her a pang. Poor man, he must be almost out of his mind. Deliberately, she controlled herself. ‘I don’t understand. I thought you said he sent you to get me.’

  Minick nodded. ‘He did. I thought he was just making an excuse to send me away. But since you’re glad to be here I guess I was wrong.

  ‘He sent me to show you around. The Domne can’t walk very far, and Tholden is too busy, and Quiss prefers to stay at home with Ruesha. Geraden said, “She likes tours. She might like a tour of Houseldon.” So I came to get you.’

  Terisa accepted the sugge
stion, despite the vexed spirit in which Geraden had probably made it. She understood how he felt. And she wanted to see more of Houseldon. She suspected – in an entirely uncritical way – that there wasn’t a great deal to see. On the other hand, if Master Eremis launched an attack soon, she might need to know everything she could learn about the Domne’s seat.

  Giving Minick a smile which would have astonished Reverend Thatcher – or her father – she went with him to explore Houseldon.

  In fact, there was more to see in Houseldon than she had expected.

  At any rate, Minick thought there was a great deal to see. And he liked to see it all thoroughly, with an attention to detail which was both loving and analytical. For instance, Houseldon contained no less than three livery stables, to accommodate the numbers of people who came here from all over the Care, as well as from other regions of Mordant. Each of these was exactly what it claimed to be: a place where horses were left and cared for while their masters transacted business, visited relatives, appealed for justice, pursued crafts or apprenticeships. Yet to Minick each was worth looking at closely; each had virtues and drawbacks which required evaluation; each prospered or declined according to factors which he took pains to understand.

  And he was a motherlode of information. He knew exactly where all the drainage pipes had been laid, and when, and how many square yards of leachfield they required. He knew who had first conceived the idea of trussing the eavesthatch of the roofs with that particular kind of binding, and why it was superior to the way eavesthatch used to be trussed. He knew where Houseldon’s supplies of tallow came from, and how long they would last in an emergency. And he knew every child he saw by name, parentage, and predilection for mischief.

  In a short time, Terisa realized that she had only two choices. She could cut off the tour now, before he drove her to distraction. Or she could relax and let him do whatever he wanted. With him there wasn’t any middle ground.

  Well, that fit, she mused. In their separate ways, Geraden, Artagel, and Nyle were all intolerant of middle ground. Wester was said to be a fanatic about wool. Stead couldn’t keep his hands off women. Geraden had called Tholden a compulsive fertilizer. The Domne himself had given up on middle ground when he first met King Joyse. Why should Minick be any different?