The Waters Rising (32 page)

He nodded, a crease between his eyebrows. “It would be better not, I think.”

“Not even
your very close
associates,” she said again.

He nodded, looking slightly puzzled. “Not . . . ?”

“Do you remember Justinian sending a large amount of treasure to the abbey to be kept for two of his loyal servants?”

“Oh, heavens, Daughter, I don’t handle things like that. You’d have to ask the prior.”

She stood for a moment, transfixed, before murmuring, “Please, sir. Do not mention to the prior that I asked. Promise me you won’t.”

His puzzlement was plain, but he whispered, “I won’t, if you ask it, but—”

“I promise to explain, later.” She pressed his hand and left him greatly troubled.

“S
ister Tomea wanted to take you to the school this afternoon,” said Precious Wind as they finished their lunch. “She said she would come to fetch you at midafternoon. In the meantime, she’s suggested we go have a look at the house we’re to occupy.”

“I’ve already been there,” said Bear in an offhand tone. “I can guide us.”

“When did you go?” Precious Wind asked. He merely shrugged and set about assembling the rest of their group, who then followed him on a winding way through corridors and plazas and more corridors and cloisters, and at last into a tunnel through the eastern shield wall. They stood with the abbey behind them looking across wide parkland scattered with groves and shrubberies and grassy stretches, occupied by a scatter of young people playing a ball game and a clutter of grazing sheep watched by a few indolent dogs. Graveled paths led here and there.

Bear gestured at the expanse. “This is a protected park for the abbey’s children, a place where people can walk or play at sports. The Wilderbrook begins over on the south side, and they’ve brought a bit of it under the wall to make a swimming place. They’ve built a ball field and playground on the north side, and there, east”—Bear pointed—“that’s the back wall.”

The gray outer wall curved in from either side behind a cluster of dwellings that varied in size from small to quite large. At one of the largest—built of gray stone much like the wall, the roof covered with curved tiles of rosy clay—a crew of workers was busy replacing broken roof tiles while another crew dumped carts of gravel in the area outside the front door.

“That is supposed to be ours,” said Bear as he went down the path that led the considerable distance toward it.

“We’d get plenty of exercise going back and forth,” remarked Oldwife in a grumpy voice.

Bear said, “Well, if we live here, we can eat here . . .”

“If we do the cooking,” grouched Oldwife.

“Which means we don’t have to go back and forth much,” Bear continued, “except for Xulai getting to and from school. She can ride if she likes. There’s a paddock outside the school.”

“Actually, the walk would be good for all of us,” remarked Precious Wind.

Inside, the place smelled of damp plaster and the sour-milk odor of new paint. A spacious sitting room was on the left of the entry hall and an equally large dining room on the right. Behind these were several small offices, a kitchen, several pantries, and a rear door opening out toward the wall. From the dining room a corridor led to men’s quarters on the right, including a bathtub room. From the sitting room, similar quarters extended to the left for the women. In back, between the house and the looming gray of the abbey wall, were several stables, a paddock, a hay barn, and storage buildings for wagons and carriages, all built of stone, all with the same tiled roofs.

“Someone went to a lot of expense just to go off and leave this place,” said Nettie.

“It feels funny,” said Bartelmy, taking Xulai’s hand helpfully as she approached the steps, in his usual manner, only to drop it quickly and duck his head. “Sorry, m’lady.”

Xulai snapped, “Oh, for all that’s holy, Bartelmy, you can take my hand without apologizing. I am still the same person. Oldwife says so. Precious Wind says so.”

“She’s still the same person,” Oldwife verified. “Just at a bit higher boil.”

Most of the rooms were at least partially furnished with benches, beds, chests, and armoires. The dining room held a long table and carved chairs for a dozen diners. The furnishings inside the building were solid, though dirty, as though they had not been used in a lifetime or more.

“You said we can eat here?” asked Xulai, running her fingers along the time-, dust-, and spider-gummed carving of a chair back. “Instead of in the dining hall?”

“If we choose to,” Precious Wind said. “Personally, I think the dining hall is a better idea for a while. It will let us meet people. We won’t meet anyone if we stay back here all the time.”

“Except that’s a long trek on a full belly,” said Oldwife. “On the other hand, we won’t need to be all the time scrubbing pots and pans.”

Xulai examined the dirt on her hand with an inexplicable revulsion. She was used to getting her hands dirty, but this dirt made her uneasy, nonetheless. As she went from room to room, the vague agitation did not abate. To the eye, it was a very pleasant house, but she did not wish to occupy it. She could not explain why, but she did not want to live there.

“It will be some time before it’s ready, won’t it?” she asked.

“They’re working very hard at it,” said Precious Wind from the window where she was watching the scurrying workers outside.

Xulai went to stand beside her. “I think we should tell the abbot not to hurry. We’re very comfortable where we are, and I need a little time to get used to the school and the abbey, and living close to it for a while will make it easier.”

“The men and I are in separate quarters at the abbey,” Bear said from behind her in a disapproving tone. “That has its disadvantages.”

“There is no reason for you to be in separate quarters,” Precious Wind remarked as she moved toward the door. “We noticed there are no other women in the women’s quarters. Until more long-term female visitors arrive at the abbey, surely some of you could stay next door, down the hall.”

“I’ll inquire about it if you like,” said Bear with a strange searching look at Xulai. “I hope you don’t expect to delay for very long, however. I’d hate to offend him.”

Xulai managed to smile. “No, not long. It’s just that I’ve had . . . am having enough changes to last me for a while, Bear. Tell him I need a little time to adjust before we set up housekeeping.”

They walked slowly back along the path. Ahead of them the wall of the abbey itself had alert guards at every gate and spaced between, and again Xulai felt that strange revulsion. She turned, catching Bartelmy’s eyes, wrinkling her nose. He nodded. He felt the same way she did.

When Sister Tomea came to fetch Xulai later in the afternoon, she did not seem at all disconcerted by Xulai’s appearance. “You look better,” said the sister. “More rested. That’s wonderful. Will you go to the school with me this afternoon?”

With clenched teeth, Xulai nodded, forcing a passable smile onto virtually rigid lips. “Sister Tomea, one of the members of our party is not actually a part of our entourage; that is, he is not in the employ of the Duke of Wold, but he is a personal friend of mine. I’m speaking of the dyer whose wagon accompanied us to the abbey. I’d like to see him when you have finished with me this afternoon. Can that be arranged?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I recall someone mentioning he’s housed with the craftsmen over near the stables. He has, seemingly, a great affection for his horse.” She smiled widely at this, as though it were both unusual and funny.

“I think he’s a lonely man and the horse is his only real companion,” Xulai said, finding it not at all strange that Abasio would want to stay very close to a horse that talked.

“Do you want him to come to your quarters?”

“Actually, I’d rather go to his, if that’s permissible,” she said. “He’s a wonderful storyteller, but those who share my quarters won’t necessarily share my enjoyment of them and they deserve their privacy.”

Sister Tomea nodded her head sympathetically. “I’ll send him word that you’d like an invitation. He can ask one of us to guide you. This evening, perhaps?”

“This evening,” she agreed as they stopped outside the office of the person in charge of the abbey upper schools, a woman named Solace. With Sister Tomea sitting nearby, Sister Solace fixed Xulai with two penetrating black eyes and asked, “What have you been taught thus far?”

Xulai took a deep breath. “The skills of literacy, ma’am. I read and write well in two languages. I read musical notation; I play an instrument, not very well . . .”

“She is modest,” said Sister Tomea. “Her Tingawan friend says she is quite good. Better than at singing.”

Xulai, with a wry smile, agreed. “Yes, much better than at singing, though I can whistle rather well. I have learned much of the history of Wold and some of the history of Norland and the other surrounding places as well as the history and customs of Tingawa. Bear—that is, one of my mentors—has taught me basic mathematics, nothing very advanced as yet. I have learned a good deal about weapons and how to handle them, and Precious Wind has taught me about herbs and healing. I also know something about the management and structure of a large estate. My cousin, the Duke of Wold, had me observe much that he did in that regard and explained how things work.” And the princess had taught her much else that she would not mention.

“Ah. What do you know of the Before Time?”

“Oh, ma’am, do any of us know very much? I’ve heard the stories. Men were foolish and did foolish things, they did not respect the earth, they worshipped the ease machines and the world punished them by becoming barren. The blanket of air was withdrawn, the Hot Times came when the sun burned everyone, the great ice continents melted, and the waters rose. That was the First Waters Rising. Then came the time of the Big Kill, when people died by the millions. Plants could not grow. Many peoples and types of animals and plants did not survive. I did not know until recently that a great sky stone or stones had fallen then. The abbot says they did, bringing great earthquakes and changing the map of the world. That was the Time When No One Moved Around . . .”

“We say the Time of Darkness,” said Sister Solace. “A second dark age.”

Xulai went on. “I learned that when people resolved never again to worship the ease machines, the world relented and let things grow once more, though the land area is much reduced from what it was before. This new inundation will reduce it further.”

Sister Solace said, “I’m told it is because some great aquifers remained sealed in solid stone from the beginnings of the earth, and now the waters have found ways to get out. At least that is what your friend the traveler says. I met him at lunch today. He says people far to the east of us in places called the Edges found it out. I didn’t have time to ask him for any details. Now, what else have you learned?”

“I’ve learned that people have become more numerous in a few places: here and in Tingawa, though east of us, where many survived on the other side of the great desert, where those Edges are you spoke of, they have recently had a plague that has reduced their numbers greatly. There are supposed to be people living across the great waters to the south. Until the Sea People made war on us, ships transported cargoes back and forth from there.”

Sister Solace nodded thoughtfully, then turned to Sister Tomea. “We will take a few days to find the classes that will help Xulai best. I will do that myself. At her age it seems unnecessary, but will a Tingawan chaperone be coming with her?”

Sister Tomea looked inquiringly at Xulai, who smiled and replied, “Precious Wind would do that only if such a thing were customary with other students in the . . . you call it the upper school?”

“Yes. Our schools take children at age three to . . . eighty or more, I suppose. We have no universities that stand alone. Teachers are rare beasts. We find they thrive best in a supportive environment, whether they teach toddlers or adults. As for chaperones, we’ve had a few Tingawan women with chaperones, but not for some time. The war with the Sea People has separated us.”

So it began. For the rest of the afternoon, Xulai moved in Sister Solace’s shadow, in and out of classrooms, always quietly, at the back, for the most part unnoticed by students ranging widely in age. Late in the afternoon, they returned to Sister Solace’s study, where they were given tea.

“I hope you heard something that particularly interested you,” Sister Solace remarked, handing Xulai a cup. “It’s dreadful when a student simply is not interested.”

Xulai nodded her thanks for the cup. “I was particularly interested in the discussion of the oceans. It seems there are many books about things that happen there that most of us do not know about. It seems, also, that there is a great deal known about genetics—mostly in the Before Books, of course—but I’d like to know more about that. I was fascinated by the teacher who was telling the students that all of us, mice, men, fish, horses, have genetic plans that are much the same, and it’s only the little valves that turn one thing on and another thing off that make us different.”

She nodded, writing things down. “Very well, we’ll turn you loose in the library among the books we have on oceans and their dwellers and what is still known about genetics. We don’t have the devices and equipment to do the things the Before people did, but at least you’ll get the idea. All students are expected to ride, run, walk long distances, and use various weapons, including guile, for someone’s life or safety may depend upon it, so there will be some active periods in each day. If you come across a subject you would like to know more about, come to me, and we will arrange it. I’d like you to teach Tingawan to a handful of students who need to learn the language. Will that do?”