Obernewtyn

by Isobelle Carmody

  "Elspeth... Well, we think she will be declared a Misfit," Jes said tiredly.

  "You poor thing," Rosamunde whispered. To her credit, she did not even wonder what was wrong with me.

  "Elf... has begun to have unnatural dreams," Jes said slowly.

  I stared at him. Occasionally I had dreamed true, but not often. Why was Jes lying?

  His eyes were evasive and dismay filled my heart when he spoke.

  "It was the tainted water that caused them," Jes said. "It has infected her."

  I gaped openly now.

  "But. .. surely that is not her fault really. Everyone knows that sometimes happens with tainted water. Surely she will not be declared Misfit because of that," Rosamund said incredulously. "She was normal before the accident and I am sure that will temper their judgment."

  My own mind shied away from the tissue of lies Jes was weaving. It was obvious he wanted to make me look as blameless as possible, afflicted by accident rather than born a Misfit, to protect his own status. Fear was like ice in my blood and I tried to believe he lied only to protect us both from the consequences of the exposure of my true nature and not just to save himself.

  "You could talk to them, try to explain," Rosamunde said eagerly.

  Jes flicked an unreadable look at her.

  "At least she might only go to the Councilfarms and you could petition for her once you have your own Certificate."

  Then a look of concern passed over her features and for the first time she thought of Jes. If I were declared a born Misfit, he would be stripped of his armband and privileges and even his Certificate would be in doubt. If the Council judged that I had been affected by tainted water, made Misfit through misadventure, no blame would fall to Jes. Possibly the Obernewtyn keeper would not want me either. I thrust the memory of those piercing blue eyes from me. I looked at Jes. I had never known what motivated him. He had an oddly tortuous mind and even as a child had been inclined to secrecy. If I were right, I could not love this selfishness that motivated him. But perhaps he thought of me too. I found I could not bear to think so badly of him. It would go easier for me too if the Council thought I was a Misfit only by accident.

  "Talk to them," Rosamunde urged Jes, but he shook his head.

  "It would not help. They might even take me," he said, half to himself.

  Rosamunde jumped to her feet. "You are no Misfit!" she cried.

  "No," Jes agreed. He looked at me and his eyes were sad. He seemed to have forgotten his previous words. Now he seemed actually resigned. "Leave us," he said to Rosamunde gently.

  She stared at him, then burst into noisy tears. "No. I will come too if they take you. I could pretend...." But he would not listen and she faltered.

  "Be wise," Jes said. "We don't know what will happen at Obernewtyn." He paused and I sensed a struggle taking place within him. "If things had been different. , ." he began, then stopped. He was silent then, his face troubled. I understood what stopped him for I felt it myself. Orphan life imposes shackles of silence that are not easy to throw aside at will. I liked him better in that moment than I had for many days.

  Rosamunde seemed to understand and dried her tears. Her face was wretched with unhappiness. "They might not take you ..." she said.

  I looked at her and a plan came to me. I would have to be wary and delicate.

  Carefully I directed my ability to manipulate thoughts into her turmoiled mind, seeking to create the chains of thought and action I needed, joining them carefully onto her own half-formed notions. I had not used my coercing ability so directly before, and I was curious to see how well the thoughts and decisions I had grafted hastily would hold.

  "You must go," Jes told her. "I want you to go. Never speak of this or us again. It is bad enough that we have been seen together. I will not let you be dragged into this mess."

  "Oh, Lud, no," she sobbed, and ran inside.

  Jes and I looked at each other, neither of us having the slightest idea what the other thought.

  "Elspeth Gordie."

  I trembled at the sound of my name, though I had been waiting for it. At that last moment, there was a flare of hope that I had been wrong after all.

  I waited, still trembling, as those around me drew back. I could not blame them, for to be associated with a Misfit is a danger in itself. The head of Kinraide went on to say that I had been affected by tainted water and I knew my plan had worked. I looked at Jes and caught his amazed look. He did not understand what had happened. I prayed I knew him well enough to guess he would not speak out. My eyes sought out Rosamunde, who would not look at me, and I hoped she would not be too badly affected by what I had willed her to do. I felt a self-loathing for having burdened her with a betrayal she would never have contemplated undertaking without my coercing thought.

  Her denouncement had come too late to stop the proceedings under which I would be bonded to Obernewtyn, but it had saved Jes from any trouble and had categorized me as a very ordinary sort of Misfit. "I prayed the knowledge that she had saved Jes would be enough to salve Rosamunde. I did not want her to suffer.

  An awful lethargy filled me while I sat in the punishment room, where I would stay until the Council coach came for me. I had overheard one of the guardians say it would come very early the next day.

  Maruman came to my prison window that night. I tried to explain that I was going away but he was still under the sway of his fit and I could not tell how much he understood.

  "The mountains have called at last," he observed wisely.

  "Last night I dreamed of the oldOne again. She said your destiny is, there."

  "Oh don't," I begged, but Maruman was merciless in his fey state.

  "I smell the white in the mountains," he told me with drifting eyes that reflected the moonlight. I found myself trembling after he had gone and wished that now, of all times, Maruman had been his grumpy sensible self, all too ready to scoff at my fears.

  I slept fitfully until I heard movement at the door. It was still not dawn and I wondered if the carriage had arrived. But it was Jes.

  "Forgive me," he said..

  I gaped at him.

  "I didn't tell them that business about the water. I swear. I... I thought of it, to save myself, but I didn't. I don't know how they came to know. I wouldn't blame you for thinking I had done it," he said wretchedly.

  "It's better that they think I am only a Dreamer and not born a Misfit. It is better this way. You are normal," I said earnestly, hoping he would not confess his anguish to poor Rosamunde, who might blurt out her part in my denunciation.

  "I was so scared when they read your name out," he said in a muffled voice. "I didn't even think of you. I was only scared for myself."

  He was full of self-reproach now that it was too late, and I sensed his rigid nature would crumble completely if I allowed him to break down. He seemed to feel he had betrayed me simply because the thought had occurred to him. How confused he was underneath all his rigidity.

  "Soon you will have your Certificate. Perhaps you will be able to petition for me," I said softly.

  "But Obernewtyn does not let go of those it takes," he whispered and looked as though he would cry.

  Hastily I took his hand. "Oh, Jes," I said. "You of all people afraid of monsters? You saw the keeper? Did she look so awful? I'm not frightened. And I would have hated the Councilfarms," I added with a smile.

  Wanly he smiled back.

  There was a movement outside and a voice called that the carriage was ready. I looked at Jes in sudden concern. It was dangerous for him to be here, but he shook his head, saying the Herder himself had given permission. I noticed he still wore the armband. Jes said he had asked to say prayers for my soul.

  He leaned forward suddenly, his eyes fierce. "I will help you, I promise."

  But you are only sixteen, I thought, with two more long spans until you can even apply for your Certificate. Yet I might have believed him, but instinct told me this would be our last parting. Impulsively I flung m
y arms around him. "Dear Jes, don't be sad. It really is best this way. You know that. And except for our parting, I am honestly glad it is done with. Believe me."

  "Time now," said the guardian. Jes nodded. Suddenly aware that he was being watched, he said the last few chants of a prayer.

  "Good-bye," I whispered in my thoughts.

  He did not wait to see me bundled into the dark coach and I was glad. I had done my best for Jes and Rosa-munde.

  I sat back into the stiff upholstery and wondered what destiny waited for me at Obernewtyn.

  Scanned with ♥ by Coral

  VI

  There were few people around to see we arrive at the Councilcourt in Sutrium. Even at the busiest hour few tarried near those somber buildings. The white slate steps led up to the open double doors and for the second time in my life I ascended them, led by a soldierguard. The smell of wood polish made me vividly recollect my last visit. But then, Jes had been with me, squeezing my hand.

  "Sit and wait till you are called," said the soldierguard, peering into my face as if to ascertain whether I was capable of understanding. I nodded dully and he went away. I wondered why I did not just run away.

  Two men came through the front door. A soldier came up and spoke softly to the other of the pair, then pointed to a door. There was something unusual about them but I felt too numb at first to try to work out what it was. Then it came to me. They were very tanned, as if they had spent their whole life outdoors. Half-breed gypsies were that color but this pair wore plain brown working clothes and looked more like farmers. Perhaps mat was what they were. I wondered why they were here.

  The older man went through the door the soldierguard had indicated while the other looked around to find I was sitting on the only seat available. He hesitated, then sat beside me.

  "Hello," he said.

  I stared at him, amazed that he would speak to a complete stranger and here of all places. "Who are you?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.

  He looked amused and his eyes crinkled in a nice sort of way. "Do I look like a spy?" He laughed. "My name is Daffyd, he added as I hesitated. "My uncle is petitioning the council for a permit to trade in the mountains."

  "The mountains," I echoed.

  "Well, not exactly the mountains. After all, whom would we trade with? I meant the high country," he explained. He smiled again and despite everything I found myself smiling back. "Why are you here?" he asked.

  "I'm a Misfit, or soon to be one," I said bluntly. "I'm being sent to Obernewtyn."

  But he didn't recoil. "So you will be going to the mountains." His expression was odd and impulsively I tried to read him like Jes, he had a natural block.

  "You don't look like a Misfit to me," he said again, with that nice smile. "Well, if you are like me, you will find the mountains beautiful. I don't have much time for places like this," he added disparagingly, meaning the town.

  "Aren't you afraid to be seen talking to a Misfit?" I asked. "It's not usually done lightly."

  "Where I come from, they say Misfits are people who have been punished by Lud. But there are worse things," he answered.

  "Oh yes?" I asked ironically. "What could be worse?"

  "These people for one. This Luddamned Council," he said in a low, intense voice. I stared, for what he was saying was Sedition. Either he was mad or insanely careless.

  Seeing my look, he only shrugged. "These fools think everyone who doesn't think and act as they do is evil.

  "Are you afraid of Obernewtyn?" he asked.

  I shrugged. "I heard some terrible stories, but then I

  met the Obernewtyn head keeper___I don't know," I

  said honestly.

  "It is a very large place and they have true farms. Not those things the Council calls a farm. Much better, with animals and crops and sowing and reaping. You might be sent to work there," he said reassuringly. He looked around the foyer.

  "Have you ... do you know it?" I asked.

  His eyes were suddenly evasive and I did not press him. He bit his lip and seemed to be trying to make his mind up about something.

  "I might escape," I told him, more for effect than because I meant it.

  But he gave me a measured look. "If ever you do run away, you might seek out the Druid. I have heard he lives still in hiding. You could look. ..." he said very quietly.

  I wondered then if he was defective, because everyone knew the Druid was dead.

  "I do not think he would love a Misfit but you need not tell him..."

  At the sound of footsteps we both looked up, and the boy stopped abruptly as the older man returned.

  He looked at us sharply, then gestured to the boy. "Come, Daffyd," he said, his eyes skidding over me.

  The boy rose at once. He said nothing to me but smiled when his uncle had turned.

  I watched them go and wondered. The Druid had escaped with some of his followers after defying a Council directive to burn his precious collection of Oldtime books. That had been long years past and rumor was that he had died. Yet this boy implied the Druid was still alive in the mountains, I shrugged. The boy was more likely defective. He had been very careless in talking to me at all.

  A soldierguard stepped from one of the doors and waved impatiently for me to enter. I went slowly, playing the part of a dullwit The trial room was quite small. At the very front sat the Councilman seated at a high bench, facing the rest of the room. Beside him at a lower table were two Herders. The rows of seats facing the front were occupied only by a few lounging soldierguards. They were theoretically meant for interested members of the community, but no one ever went there for fear of being associated with whoever was on trial. No one looked up as I came in, prodded to the front by the soldier on duty. Feeling bitter, I looked up at the Councilman, wondering what would happen to the daughter of such a person if she were judged Misfit.

  "Well now," said the Councilman in a brisk voice. "We will begin this trial." His eyes passed over me with disinterest. I was less than nothing1 to him. "I understand this is a routine affair with, no defense?" he said to the room. "You are Elspeth Gordie?" he asked in a perfunctory tone.

  I nodded.

  "Very well, you have been charged Misfit by Madam Vega of Obernewtyn. Corsak, you will speak for the Master of Obernewtyn?"

  A tall man in black walked forward and came to stand near me. He did not look at me. "This is a Misfit who has been exposed by the Obernewtyn head keeper," he said. "She was also denounced by another orphan who claimed the girl fell in tainted water and from that time commenced to have unnatural dreams and fainting fits. There are several other odd points. May I expand?"

  The Councilman nodded.

  "In her first home she was accused of laying a curse on another orphan. She was also accused of giving an evil eye. Naturally we do not place too much credibility on these reports, but they do point to the possibility that she was already disturbed when this tainted water infected her."

  The man in black had not once referred to notes. I was frightened by the amount of information he had. I had never imagined my report held so much. With such a report I would never have been issued a Certificate. I was relieved that Rosamunde had told them I was tainted by the water, for that seemed to have overshadowed the rest of the evidence.

  "Your master feels there is some hope of a cure?" the Councilman asked.

  "My master concentrates all his efforts on healing," the man in black answered somewhat defensively.

  One of the Herders rose. "Misfits have minds which are inhabited by demons."

  The man in black bowed. "My master feels the demons can be driven out and the mind healed if the subject is young."

  The Herder grunted and looked at his companion, who also rose. "Driving away demons is Herder work," he. said.

  "My master's motives are good," said the Obernewtyn representative.

  "Where are your successes?" asked the first Herder aggressively.

  The Obernewtyn man cast an appealing look at the Councilman,
who coughed. "You are well paid for these creatures," he said.

  "That is not for discussion," snapped the Councilman coldly. He looked at the two Herders, who sat down.

  The man in black looked nervous. "I beg pardon," he said eloquently. "You know we use these Misfits for labor, but my master diligendy seeks a cure."

  The Councilman eyed him thoughtfully. "We under-stand this from Madam Vega's reports. Even so, perhaps it is time for us to visit your master and evaluate for ourselves what Obemewtyn does."

  His eyes flicked -back momentarily to me as if he had forgotten my presence. "Do you admit to harboring de-mons?" he asked in a bored tone.

  I cringed and shook my head with what I hoped was a convincingly vacant leer. The Councilman sighed as if it were as much as he had expected before asking if anyone knew whether I was able to speak. No one answered and the Councilman scowled impatiently.

  "Very well, I pronounce her Misfit. Take her, Corsak, and make arrangements to name her in the records when you make the bond over. And we look forward to an invitation to visit Obernewtyn," he added meaningfully.

  Corsak nodded and indicated for me to follow him.

  The Councilman forestalled him coldly. "If you please. Is the scribe here?"

  "Yes!" said a cheerful voice.

  "Ensure this reaches the people. Misfits are a particularly foul and insidious threat to our community. They often pass as normal for many years, since their defects are not obvious to the eye. We know this because of the efforts of our good and diligent Herders." The two Herders inclined their heads modestly. "They have lately informed me that their researchers have revealed that Misfits are the Lud's way of punishing our laxity. How is it, the Lud asks us, that Misfits are permitted to roam and breed among us for so long? The answer is that we have failed in our duty of watchfulness. This attitude threatens to hurl us back into the Age of Chaos and worse. Therefore, it is the order and decree of this Coun-cilcourt that penalties for aiding and concealing Misfits and any other defective humans or beasts will increase. Each man must watch his neighbor..."