At first Meeral decided that Rephna did it because she could snoop in Meeral's things, but Rephna knew about clothes. She hung them carefully, smoothing out wrinkles. She admired the work and materials, but said the styles were terrible.
"Why do you cover yourself up in front like this?" she said, holding up the wine-colored, silk dress against her. "Men like to see what you've got."
Meeral let her fingers run over the faint bulge of Shejani's pendant that was covered by the high neckline of her blouse. Perhaps the pendant would connect her with Shejani; best to keep it hidden. Besides, she was still uncomfortable with the bold Pactyl fashion of the low-cut blouse.
Shaking her head she said, "I'm used to Cyrtuno styles."
"You seem to do all right, a duke and a prince chasing you. Perhaps I could learn from you." Dejectedly, Rephna relaxed the erect posture that showed off the scoop of her neckline. "I can't seem to find a man who'll treat me . . . nice."
"You should," Meeral said, surprised at the emotion she gave to her own words.
Rephna sadly brushed back her curls and stroked the yellow bruise on her cheek. Listlessly she continued unpacking Meeral's trunk. She reached down and pulled out the handkerchief Prince MorToak tossed to Meeral her first day in Pactyl. It was still firmly tied around one hundred onics.
"Wow! Where did you get this?" The sight of the embroidered crest snatched Rephna out of her depressed mood.
Meeral sat up in bed. She felt her face turn red. "I'm going to give it back to him the first chance I get."
"I wouldn't, if I had it." Rephna jiggled the bundle up and down, letting the onics clink against each other. Then she sat on the bed next to Meeral. "You seem to do better than I with that funny way you behave," she said, a puzzled look on her face, "as if you care more about what you think than what others think."
Later, as she was leaving, Rephna said, "You're going to be pretty lonesome here. I'll stop by sometimes on my way to work, if you'd like."
"Of course I would," Meeral said.
Before she fell asleep Meeral thought about Rephna. The woman was not happy. Could Meeral help her? Meeral wasn't sure. But she knew she could help the spinners she enhanced. She decided that the twelve new spinners would get the pay from four wheels, to make up for the slower pace. The twins, because they had to work harder to synchronize their spinning, would get a larger share than the rest. It would still leave her with a great deal of money. As soon as she could, she would have to take it to the Ezant Temple for safekeeping.
She didn't get to the temple until the day a spinner came into the hall and announced, "Soldiers killed an enhancer."
It had been almost two weeks since Meeral hurt her ankle. She was too tired from struggling with crutches and enhancing fourteen spinners to do more than step out the door of Spinners' Hall. She hardly noticed the birds twittering their urge to nest and the leaves on the trees ready to break out. Rephna stopped by twice, talking about the soldiers in their emerald green uniforms and Pudbot, the Duke's aide, whom she saw in the tavern where she worked.
The tension in Spinners' Hall bordered on hysteria, full of rumors that grew and tempers that burst. The younger spinners were fascinated by the soldiers. They were almost jealous of the women who had to spend every day with the men in their emerald green uniforms.
As tired as she was, Meeral asked the drafted women about the tactics they learned. For short range fighting the enhancers and archers trained to shoot many arrows simultaneously. For long range fighting a single enhancer enhanced a single bow, increasing the range tremendously. Since they feared the strong Drarie navy, targets were set in the harbor. The enhancers aimed at them with catapults and spears. Meeral had ideas of her own as to how enhancing skills could defend Pactyl but neither Kaldoat nor MorToak would consider her an authority on warfare.
Then came the news that an enhancer had been killed.
"Who was it?"
No one knew.
"Perhaps it isn't true," Linima said.
"Stories do get exaggerated," Meeral said, remembering how the one thousand onics that the Prince offered her grew to three thousand over night.
"She was executed," announced the next report.
Slowly information trickled in. An enhancer passed information to a Drarie spy, letting him know what kind of tactics and strategies the Lurdoan army was preparing, how many troops they had, and what kind of weapons they planned to use. The spy was not from Spinners' Hall. No one knew her very well. Her neighbors became suspicious because she burned her meals so often or ate cold food when it would have been much nicer to have a hot meal. She was in her thirties yet had not learned to cook by enhancing fire.
As Lenera said, "Every enhancer uses enhancing to prepare meals by time they're sixteen."
It turned out that this woman, when she was thirteen, had used enhancing to maim a girl who had stolen her boy friend. She fled to Drarie, married, and apparently did very little with her enhancing skills. The Draries, with their usual ignorance of enhancing, thought she would make a good spy. She was executed by arrows of Lurdoan soldiers.
Late in the day, when the women collected their pay, a boy stood at the door selling newspapers. Lenera brought one back to Meeral who was waiting until she wouldn't be jostled by the women leaving work. The paper repeated the story of the Drarie spy. It also said that Kaldoat asked the Duke to make a background check on all enhancers. Kaldoat said that all who could not prove their origin would face criminal charges. Everyone knew what "criminal charges" meant for an enhancer.
"They should go look at those books with all the names of enhancers," Lenera said. "Where did you say they had a record of all enhancers, Meeral?"
Meeral felt the blood drain from her face. She remembered the records: Shejani - Origin unknown. Trop had said, "It's not practical to put an enhancer in jail." She'd have no chance. She couldn't name her grandparents. She came to Pactyl with Chak and Glitob, two men with illegal connections with Draries. She would be labeled a criminal and be executed.
"Are you all right, Meeral?" Linima asked.
"I should . . .Ó Meeral looked at Linima, then at Lenera. Should she ask them for help? Only Zavona, the high priestess of the Ezant temple, would know what to do.
"Don't you feel well?" Lenera asked.
"I need to see Zavona," Meeral said.
Meeral saw the worried look on the faces of the twins, but what could they do for her? If she confided in them, they, too, would be in danger.
"We'll help you. We'll go with you," Lenera said.
"No. But help me get into a carriage, please."
"A dog cart is cheaper."
"A carriage is faster." Meeral said. "I have to go to the Ezant Temple right away."
As Lenera started for the door, she turned. "That's where they have the records of enhancers, isn't it?"
Linima called her back and said in a low voice. "We needn't tell anyone about the records of enhancers, Lenera."
A puzzled expression crossed Lenera's face. But she shrugged her shoulders in agreement when Linima said, "It will just cause trouble for people, twin."
Again the twins asked to go with her, but Meeral said it was best for everyone if they didn't. As she left, she saw the two tiny women standing side-by-side, gazing after her. In one synchronized movement, they waved to her. She wondered if she would ever see them again.
"We have to go around," the driver of the carriage explained as he drove down a narrow street. "The bridge is out."
"I know."
"They started working on it -- the soldiers," he said. He began telling her how he was losing money since the soldiers arrived in Pactyl.
"Between the enhancers and the dog cart owners, I'm not making any money," he said.
"Why?"
"The enhancers use the dog carts because they're cheaper. The soldiers can't use them. They tell me to drive them around but don't pay me. I know you're not an enhancer, otherwise you'd be using a dog cart."
Meeral
grunted noncommittally.
When he asked her how long she had worked in Spinners' Hall, she answered, "Oh, a long time."
"Did you hear about that enhancer they executed?"
"Yes."
"They did the right thing, executing her right away." The driver gave his whip a sharp crack. "I think the peace keepers should investigate every enhancer who hasn't lived here for five years. You don't know who's a spy." He paused. "Better execute a few who you aren't sure of than to have them help the Draries invade Pactyl."
As they stopped in front of the temple, Meeral saw a faint trail of smoke rising behind the building. She carefully paid the driver and gave him a good tip. Hurrying as fast as her crutches would take her, she made her way up the path. She recognized the girl standing at the door. It was Felm who had helped her the day she first came to Pactyl. She must have seen the carriage drive up. She was crying.
"Oh, it was terrible! Terrible! All the flames and smoke."
"Is anyone hurt?" Meeral asked.
"No, but everything was destroyed."
"Can I see the High Priestess?
"I don't know. She's always calm -- but it's awful" She wiped her nose with a handkerchief. Meeral, balancing on her good foot, patted her arm in a futile gesture.
Finally Felm, almost incoherent, led her through the temple to a side door. "She told us to bring everything out there," Felm said. She pointed to a pile of something black from which smoke rose. Bits of black ash floated from the pile, landing in the blackened field. "I never saw the rats, but Zavona did. She had us take everything out before they did more damage."
Meeral carefully worked her way to where Zavona was standing. The tall, stately woman had not lost her vigorous, imposing appearance even in the face of this unexplained tragedy. Meeral saw her glance at Felm. For a moment no one spoke.
Finally Meeral asked, "Are you all right?"
Zavona answered simply, "Yes."
Zavona seemed to distance herself from Meeral, as if Meeral had fallen out of her favor. If the High Priestess of the Ezant won't help me, Meeral thought, who will? So preoccupied in her problems, Meeral almost forgot to find out the cause of the disaster.
"What happened?"
"The rats," Felm said between sobs. "They got into the book room."
"We had to move all the books out to get rid of the rats," Zavona said. "I found that they were eating the books. We piled all the books here in the field while Felm went to get some poison. The books caught fire."
"All the records of enhancers?" Meeral said, forcing a tragic tone to her voice.
"Everything is gone," Felm said. "Years of work."
"Yes,Ó Zavona said, "All the records in Pactyl have been destroyed."
Meeral saw a glint in the eye of the High Priestess and heard the gentle emphasis Zavona put on the words "in Pactyl."
Again Zavona glanced at Felm, then back to Meeral.
Balancing on her good foot, Meeral let one of her crutches scrape through the blackened ashes of pages of books. In one of the books in this field had been the record of mother with the words, "origin unknown." Although Meeral tried never to lie, she said, "I'm so sorry."
CHAPTER 11
"I told Pudbot about it, "Rephna said, even before she sat down in Meeral's room at Spinners' Hall.
"About what?" Meeral asked.
"About what you told me," Rephna said.
When Rephna stopped in to see Meeral on the way to the tavern where she worked, Meeral never knew whether the young woman would be sweet and communicative or would slyly hide behind a mask of boredom. Tonight Meeral could see that she was acting impatiently bored. She seemed to presume that Meeral should know immediately what had been said that would be worth repeating to the Duke's aide.
Playing Rephna's game, Meeral said, "What did I say that Pudbot would be interested in?"
"About the handkerchief." Rephna, switching suddenly into sweetness and smiling as if she had done Meeral a big favor.
Handkerchief? Meeral thought for a moment. MorToak's handkerchief. What right did this woman have to tell the Duke's aide about MorToak's handkerchief?
Meeral's feelings must have shown on her face, for Rephna, hurriedly said, "Oh, I didn't exactly tell him about the handkerchief. I just said that you had something you wanted to give Prince MorToak." Her face softened as a look of uncertainty spread over it. "You do want to see him again, don't you?"
Yes, Meeral thought, I do. I really want to see him again. But not at the cost of following in my mother's footsteps, right into the bed of a rich "protector." I guess that is the only way his Highness would accept me -- if he ever bothers looking at me long enough to remember my face.
"You do." Rephna said, shifting defensively to her bored expression as if she did not care how Meeral felt. "I know you do."
"I don't think the Prince and I are interested in the same things," Meeral said with a smile.
"When you see him you'll find there are things you are both interested in," Rephna replied in a throaty, suggestive voice.
Meeral laughed. "What about my crutches? What dress do you suggest I wear with them?"
"He'll know when you stop using them. Kaldoat has a man watching you."
"Watching me? Why?"
Rephna did not know, or if she did, she would not tell. Was Colonel Kaldoat waiting to draft Meeral when her ankle was healed? The last time the healer looked at her ankle he suggested that soon switch to a cane. If she continued using the cane, even after her ankle was healed, she could continue to enhance spinning at Spinners' Hall.
She was doing more for the war effort by making yarn for cloth than if she were in the army. If she were drafted, she would just be following the instructions of some soldier who knew less about enhancing than any enhancer in Pactyl. And the Colonel would not be interested in her ideas on how to defend the city.
Through the gossip from the spinners, Meeral heard that Syhira, a skilled enhancer, was trying to persuade the Colonel to let her train the enhancers, rather than the soldiers. Kaldoat did not take the woman's suggestion seriously. From what Meeral heard later, the Draries did.
Meeral heard the bad news from her students at the Ezant Temple. Ever since she came to Pactyl, Meeral had spent a few hours on Sunday afternoons teaching young girls how to develop their enhancing skills. She missed going to the Ezant Temple for two Sundays because of her ankle. She told Zavona, that day the High Priestess had cleverly destroyed all records of enhancers, that she'd be back the following Sunday. When she hobbled into the Temple meeting room she felt the same war hysteria that was growing in Spinners' Hall. Her students were all in their early teens and their voices were shriller and their sweet adolescent faces showed more strain. She planned a lesson on improving accuracy and aim in enhancing, but the girls talked so much and so loudly she could not get their attention.
A lanky girl with a shrill voice said to another girl, "But what good would that do you if the Duke's guards executed you?"
Meeral tapped her crutch on the floor. There was a sudden pause in the young girls' frenzied chatter. "It's good to see you again," Meeral said. "The first thing I need to do is to give you time to talk about the things that are disturbing us." Then, in a voice that sounded as if she were years older than they, she said, "Let's hear from you, one at a time." She pointed to the lanky girl and said, "You first."
The young girl began talking, waving her arms and tossing her head to emphasize her distress. "You said the law permits me only to enhance a fire into a man's heart or brain if he tries to rape me, but suppose he just wants to kill me?" When she said "kill" her voice reached a high pitch and Meeral heard a moan from the other girls.
"You can defend yourself if he attacks you," Meeral said, surprised that this girl didn't realize it, "whatever his motives."
"But suppose I'm not sure what he wants."
"That's why you should develop your enhancing skills so that you can scare a man before he makes real trouble. Then you don't nee
d to hurt him. At close range all you need for good aim is less than level one. Pinpoint your enhancing until you can heat a man's belt buckle or singe his hair. Only if you feel you are in real danger should you enhance a fire in him. If you have a little time, you can enhance a fire in his leg or arm to discourage him. Of course, if you feel you are in immediate danger then you go after the heart or brain.
"But suppose it's a woman."
"Another enhancer?"
"No. A woman who puts a knife in your back, like someone did to the enhancer who got killed last night."
"Who?" Meeral was not sure she had heard correctly.
"I think her name was Syhra," one of the girls said.
"Syhira,Ó the lanky girl said.
The girls forgot Meeral's instruction that they should speak one at time.
"She was in a crowd at the fair last night. No one saw who did it."
"It was on the north side of town -- where people from far-away towns bring things in their wagons to sell."
"She worked with the Lurdonian army. The Colonel should guard them."
"What can we do if someone tries to assassinate us?"
Meeral looked at the frightened faces of the young girls.
"Assassins aren't after girls your age," Meeral said. "Syhira was probably killed by a Drarie who wants to weaken our defenses."
By the time she left she had calmed the girls, but she, herself, was upset. Did one of the wagons at that country fair belong to Chak?
As she rode home in a dogcart, Meeral remembered the man who Rephna said was following her. Rephna was right. She could see him, a small, stocky man with a brown cap cocked toward his right eye. He was riding a nondescript horse. Suppose he was not sent by Kaldoat but by someone else?
Weeks later, when she was well enough to give up her crutches and walk with a cane, she saw him lurking behind trees and bushes as he followed her. As a small child she had thought that Grandma Varis always knew what she was doing, particularly if she did something wrong. Now someone -- or maybe a series of someones -- watched her every time she left Spinners' Hall.
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