He looked up and saw his daughter.
‘I’m sorry.’ Sharra burst into tears.
‘Can you give us a moment, Gareth? Come in, Sharra. I’m very busy. What’s happened?’
‘Is it true about Jayne?’
Gareth closed the door behind him.
‘Is she going to be Gory’s girlfriend rather than his wife?’
‘The term is consort, Sharra. It’s a bit more dignified than girlfriend. She will have some status in the household even though it is not a legal bond like that of a wife.’
‘I don’t understand. How can you allow this? Isn’t it an insult?’
Milton frowned. ‘It is not what I would want for you, but Jayne is Ivory’s daughter and I must trust she is not only doing what is best for her, but what Jayne wishes.’
‘I doubt her wishes matter much to Ivory.’
‘Enough, Sharra. I’m aware that you and your step-mother do not always see eye to eye, but Ivory is extremely fond of Jayne. She only wants what is best for her.’
‘But Gory! You don’t even like him.’
‘But Jayne does. When Ivory first proposed a match between them I spoke to Jayne and she assured me that she was happy to marry Gory.’
‘Marry.’
‘Politics is a difficult business. Ivory assures me that Gory cares for Jayne, but currently thinks it is in neither of their interests to wed. It’s not an insult. Some men never take a wife, but prefer to keep a consort by their side. It merely means that Jayne won’t have as much political status as she would as Gory’s wife and your step-sister has never struck me as one who was much interested in politics. Her role as consort will mean she has far less to do diplomatically as she would have done as Gory’s wife.’
Sharra sniffed and wiped her tears on her sleeve. ‘So you’re saying it’s not that bad.’
‘No.’
‘But you still wouldn’t want it for me?’
‘Sharra, it’s likely your husband will inherit Milton Hold, so the issue of you being a consort will never arise. Besides, you don’t have Jayne’s mild temperament. The man who marries you will have his work cut out.’
‘But if she has children?’
Milton’s frown descended again. ‘It will be up to Gory how much he acknowledges them.’ He saw Sharra’s horrified face. ‘They’ll be well looked after, but they won’t inherit any of Gory’s wealth unless he chooses.’
Sharra swallowed. ‘Clem thinks we won’t all last that long. I told him he was being silly.’
‘Well, we may not if I don’t gain my place at the Central Archive and see what I can do to bring balance back to the world, so you should let me get back to work.’
‘Yes, Father. Thank you.’
Sharra made her way back to the kitchens and took up her icing bag once more. She worked on well into the afternoon. Marnie complemented her on the prettiness of her patterns, but Sharra, surveying her handiwork, saw nothing to admire.
Chapter Three
‘You look pretty!’ The obvious surprise in Clem’s voice took away much of the compliment.
Sharra practised twirling her skirt in the dormitory mirror. She curtsied to her reflection.
‘I like your curls,’ added Clem.
She fingered the curls falling either side of her face. She’d brushed out her hair properly for the first time this week and then chose to bind it under her cap.
‘But your lips look odd.’
Sharra’s fingers stole to her lips. At the bottom of Jayne’s old chest she found some berry juice and slightly stained her lips. ‘What do you mean odd?’ she asked.
‘It makes you look like a grown-up.’
‘That’s the idea.’
‘But you can’t grow up yet. You have to wait for me!’
‘It doesn’t work like that, Clem.’
The little boy pouted. ‘You’d better be careful. If you go downstairs looking that pretty and that grown up someone might marry you at dinner.’
‘You mean propose. And I don’t think that’s very likely.’
‘Don’t you want to get married, Sharra? Not even to me?’
Sharra went over and sat down beside the little boy and gave him a hug. ‘To be honest, Clem, I don’t want to marry anyone. But if I had to you’d come top of my list.’
‘But Ivory said you can’t be a Map Maker.’
‘I know.’
‘So what will you do?’
Sharra curled a tendril of hair around her finger. ‘It all depends on my father. What happens to me is down to him.’
Clem beamed. ‘That’s all right then. Lord Milton is a great man. He gives me toffees. And it’s all right, Sharra, I don’t mind that Ivory says you’re troublesome and difficult. I reckon that’s only because you’re unhappy.’ Clem patted her hand. ‘I’ll make you happy.’
‘Oh Clem!’ Sharra didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘You really are the best little cousin ever.’
‘We should go,’ said Clem. ‘Lord Milton will be annoyed if we’re late.’
Sharra walked slowly down towards the Great Hall. Clem had already run on ahead. The heavy dress felt awkward and unfamiliar. She hesitated at the end of the long corridor. Last night had passed in a rush. The day had been full of excitement, but tonight she must enter the hall alone, dressed formally, and without Jayne by her side to cover any slips. Many of the Hold girls dreamed of these events, but then most of them would have had their mothers rather than a six-year-old advising them on their dress. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to slip away . . .
‘Sharra!’ called a familiar voice from behind her. Quick steps brought the visitor up next to her. Jion was only a few months older than her, but tonight he was barely recognisable as the boy who had stolen flowers from the Autumn Garden. He wore the scarlet jacket of an apprentice Map Maker, and his golden hair was cropped short. His ruffled white shirt was of the first fashion.
‘Cousin!’ Sharra exclaimed, embracing him with a quick hug. ‘How good to see you. Have you come to celebrate Jayne’s triumph? Are you very disappointed?’ She said it with a smile, but Jion frowned. ‘Oh come on, we all knew you were sweet on her, but really Jayne’s not your type.’
‘My type?’ asked Jion raising an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t know I had a type.’
Sharra felt a familiar flutter in her chest. ‘Jayne’s a quiet one. She wants to stay home and raise children. I don’t see you doing that for some time yet.’
Jion winced. ‘I’ll have enough to occupy me in the Cartography Halls for a few years before I start thinking of children.’
Sharra linked her arm through his. ‘I know it still hurts though. When you’ve set your heart on something . . .’
Jion looked down at her. ‘And what have you set your heart on, Jayne’s little sister?’
Sharra looked down her feet. ‘Oh, lots of things. You know, girlish fantasies and all that.’
Jion laughed. ‘I don’t remember there ever being anything particularly girlish about you! Whenever I visited Milton the Hold was always whispering about your antics. What tree you’d climbed or that time you fell off the roof.’
‘That wasn’t my fault. I climb very well. I wasn’t to know the frost would come in early. It was slippery.’
‘Are you still such a tomboy? Or have you changed?’
Looking up to meet his eyes, Sharra found her stomach had suddenly clenched itself into a knot and her tongue refused to work.
They were almost at the Great Hall.
‘Nothing to say for once, Sharra?’
Sharra pulled away from him and spread her skirts out. ‘Don’t I look different?’
‘Oh yes, quite the lady. But how you look and what you will do is quite a different matter. Come on, I’ll take you in. I’m at the children’s table tonight. Ivory “forgot” I’d come of age. Forgot! As if.’
As they settled into their seats at the children’s table Jion looked very out of place, but Sharra began to feel easier about her own dress. She l
ooked around at the other women in the Hall. Some of the girls sitting with the adults were barely older than her. All of them were in formal dress and all of them had carefully schooled neutral expressions on their faces. Sharra was pleased to see that while her dress wasn’t the prettiest present it was by no means the worst. One woman in particular had wrapped herself in a shawl covered with a distinctly ugly symbol.
‘Does that mean something?’ Sharra whispered in Jion’s ear. ‘It’s like someone made a mistake in the dyeing.’
Jion snorted. ‘It’s a Cult of the Oracles glyph.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Just some nonsense.’
‘What nonsense?’
‘It’s another of these new religion things.’
‘Another end of the world cult?’ asked Sharra, feeling a little sick.
Jion looked down at her. ‘It’s nothing to be frightened about.’
‘I’m not.’
Jion shrugged.
‘Well, all right I am a bit. I know just because some people are scared of it doesn’t make whatever it is they’re scared of any more likely to be true. But that anyone can think we are living in the last days . . .’
Jion shook his head. ‘It’s nothing like that. It’s been popular among the sea-folk for a long time. But after the disaster at Muirfield – the landslide? – She,’ he pointed at the woman with his knife, ‘lost her brother in it. A lot of people started paying it more attention. Superstitious nonsense.’
‘But what superstitious nonsense?’
Jion sighed. ‘It’s just silly talentless gossip.’
‘Jion! Tell me!’
‘They believe there’s some isle or other where ghosts gather.’
‘I suppose it makes them feel better to think their lost ones are still around.’
‘If you ask me the dead are well out of it,’ responded Jion. ‘It might not be the last days yet, but every year the Shift get more frequent, more unpredictable and more devastating.’
Sharra caught sight of Clem’s worried little face and changed the subject. ‘It’s quite a pageant, isn’t it?’ She joked. ‘Who’d have thought marrying such an old man would get you such a party?’
Jion gestured with his goblet. ‘Jayne isn’t Milton’s blood daughter, but she’s still a big prize.’
‘What an awful thing to say.’
‘Of course, she’s not as big a prize as you. Milton is rumoured to be keen on passing the Hold on to your husband,’ Jion grinned. ‘I suppose he feels he needs to sweeten the deal.’
‘That’s a nasty thing to say,’ broke in Clem.
‘It’s all right. Jion is only teasing. He’s smarting because he didn’t win tonight’s prize.’ Sharra tried to inject as much acid as she could into the last word.
Jion leaned over and took her fingers. He raised them to his lips. ‘Ah, I have my eye on a bigger prize.’ His dark eyes swallowed her gaze. ‘I might not have been good enough for Ivory, but your father knows how to rate a good man with a decent bloodline. One, moreover, who is willing to overlook certain problems in your own background, Sharra.’
‘My background?’
‘I take it Milton is still forbidding people to speak to you of your mother? You’re old enough to know the truth.’
Sharra felt as if the room was swaying around her. ‘What is the truth?’
Jion leaned very close to her ear and whispered. ‘Your mother died a traitor.’ Then he sat back up. ‘Some men might shy away from such things, but I quite fancy a wife with spirit.’
Sharra hardly heard his words. ‘A traitor?’
‘Hush!’ snapped Jion. ‘I told you because I thought you should know, but it is still forbidden to mention.’
‘But how?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Will you tell me?’ pleaded Sharra.
‘I might for the right price.’
‘Price?’
‘We could spend a little time together. Get to know each other a little better. It’s time both of us were thinking of our futures.’
Clem’s little hands curled into fists. ‘You’re not important enough to marry Sharra.’
Jion winked at the little boy. ‘Sharra is unusual. Not all Map Makers will tolerate an unusual wife.’
Sharra looked from her young indignant suitor to Jion’s laughing face. ‘Ivory didn’t forget, did she? You asked to be put at the table with me.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘But you’re in love with Jayne.’
Jion looked puzzled. ‘What’s that got to do with it? We’re talking about our futures, Sharra. Emotions don’t come into it.’
‘Lord Brillington is here with you? Does he approve of your plans for us?’
‘Probably, but you’re not thinking, Sharra. We’re here for the Settlement.’
‘Settlement of marriage?’ asked Clem.
‘No,’ answered Jion. ‘It’s the triennial meeting of the families to assess and, if necessary, redistribute resources to ensure the smooth operation of the archives. There’s usually an election for any spare places to the Great Work too.’
‘Oh right.’ Clem tried and failed to look knowledgeable.
The older boy laughed. ‘Don’t worry. You won’t be involved in any of this stuff for years yet.’
The people around them began to rise to their feet. Clem nudged her, ‘Here comes the couple.’
A door behind the top table opened and Gory and Jayne entered the room. Gory was smiling, dressed in resplendent black and silver tunic and hose. He wore a crown of traditional white betrothal flowers. Jayne was very pale in a long white gown, shot through with silver. Her hair was piled high on her head in the way of married women, with small white betrothal flowers threaded through it. Gory bowed to the room. Jayne curtsied. Everyone clapped. Sharra’s father shook Gory’s hand and pulled out a seat for Jayne, who glided gracefully into it.
‘She doesn’t look very happy,’ observed Sharra.
‘She’s probably just found out what being a consort means. That would account for Gory’s smile,’ answered Jion.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ll explain it to you later if you like.’
Then came the speeches. There were many and they were long. Fortunately, someone had realised that making hungry children sit through an hour of extravagant toasts and boasts was not a good idea. Although they had to wait like everyone else for the formal meal a number of snack plates were circulated among them to keep their stomachs quiet.
‘Not so bad being a kid for one more day.’ Jion speared a meat roll with his dagger. ‘So I have a rival,’ Jion nodded at Clem. ‘He’s going to inherit upwards of a dozen archives one day.’
‘Am I?’ Clem grinned, pleased. ‘Well, if Sharra does marry me then I can let her work in one of mine, can’t I?’
Jion shook his head. ‘Women don’t work in the archives.’
‘Sharra wants to. If she was my wife I could let her if I wanted, couldn’t I?’
‘Hush,’ urged Sharra, growing more and more embarrassed under Jion’s gaze.
‘Women can’t draw, Clem.’
‘Sharra can. I’ve seen her.’
‘Don’t be silly. It’s forbidden. No woman may draw. Of course, the brain of the female cannot comprehend the art of image reproduction, much less creation. Women have other gifts.’
‘You mean uses,’ muttered Sharra.
‘But the dog you drew me. When I was still in the nurseries? That was really good,’ insisted Clem.
‘What?’ snarled Jion.
‘It was a line drawing. Nothing more.’
‘Sharra! You’re not a baby any more. You should know better. I don’t care how indulgent Milton is; he’d never allow this. No one, not even the Great Worker himself, allows drawings of living creatures. The punishment –’
‘I know. I know,’ hissed Sharra. ‘Just drop it.’
‘But why?’ said Clem. ‘I’ve seen pictures of animals and people.’<
br />
‘Then they must have been very old images. No one has been allowed to draw living creatures for a long time.’
‘But why? Sharra’s dog was brilliant. Brindle had just died, so she drew him for me to remember him by. I’d told her about what an excellent runner he’d been and she drew him . . .’ he trailed off his puzzled eyes travelling between Jion and Sharra. ‘It was so good you could see the wind moving his fur.’
Jion drew his breath in sharply. ‘He’s exaggerating,’ said Sharra.
Jion gave her a long, level look and Sharra felt herself begin to tremble. ‘You’re frightened. Good. You should be.’
Sharra fell silent. Now she was no longer focusing on Jion she could sense the tension in the room. She thought she sensed hostility from Lord Bambridge. Lord Camberwell, who had always stood Lord Milton’s ally, was also challenging. But each time her father met the challenge with a quick riposte and soothing reassurance. Milton wasn’t afraid. He was wary, hopeful, excited. None of the other children seemed to sense the subtle interplay of emotion and maneuvring that was going on around them. Even Jion was paying little attention to anything except his ale and his game-bird. Sharra looked directly at her father willing him to notice that she was different. Please, she thought, please, you’ve got to notice before it’s too late. Don’t let Ivory marry me off to Jion. I want to stay here. I want to stay at Milton.
To her astonishment Lord Milton met her eyes and very, very slightly, he nodded.
When the meal was over the children filed back to Gory and Jayne to make their farewells. They were to return to their dormitories while the adults were to go on to an evening of dancing and entertainment. Sharra kissed Jayne on the cheek and shook hands with Gory, who laughed at her and told her she would be next. Sharra was only too happy to escape, but Dame Ivory drew her to one side. ‘Your father wants to see you. He is in the Lesser Library. Go to him now.’
Sharra beamed. ‘At once, Dame mother.’
The Map Maker's Daughter Page 5
