Ozark Fantasy - Twelve Fair Kingdoms Part 11

"My son, Salem Sheridan Lewis the 44th, called Boy Salem," said his father from the head of the table, and he introduced the other five children that had joined us for the meal. And the Granny, the youngest on Ozark and one of the sternest-fifty-nine-year-old Granny Twinsorrel. I bid them all a good evening, and helped myself to the soup.

Salem was a patient child; when the introductions had gone all the way around and the grownups were eating, he said it again, but this time he was asking.

"Magic-chests?" he asked me. "All of cedar?"

"Usually," I told him. "Because it keeps everything so safe."

His dark blue eyes shone, and I found him a handsome child despite the lack of three front teeth and the presence of a crazy-quilt

a.s.sortment of sc.r.a.pes and scabs and scratches. I expect he had fallen out of one or more of the cedar trees recently.

"What's in a magic-chest, Responsible of Bright.w.a.ter?" he asked

me then, and he held very still, waiting for me to answer. Which meant he'd asked it before, and it had done him no good. It would do him no good this time, either.

"Herbs and simples and gewgaws," I said casually. "And garlic.""In a cedar chest?" The child was shocked, and I chuckled.As it happened, the Magicians did keep their garlic in their magic- chests, but they saw to it that the smell of the stuff was on hold while it was in there.

"That's right," I said. "Garlic."

"When I am a Magician of Rank," said the boy with utter solemnity, like a Reverend p.r.o.nouncing a benediction, "I won't do that. Or I'll make a Spell to take the smell off so it doesn't spoil the wood."

Smart little d.i.c.kens, that one. I could tell by the twitch at the corner of his stern father's lips that this was a favorite child-the name told me that in any case-and that his promise was noticed. But the Master of the Castle spoke to him in no uncertain terms.

"When you are a Magician of Rank!" he said. "Many a long, long year of study lies between you and that day, Boy Salem, if it ever comes-which I doubt. And many a difficult examination. You had best get your mind off garlic and concentrate on learning the Teaching Story you were set this week-you didn't have it right yet

last night, as I recall."

"Or," added a sister who looked to be about thirteen, with the same pansy blue eyes but considerably less scuffed up and battered as to the rest of her, "you'll end up like your cousin Silverweb."

"I'd not be such a ninny as that," scoffed the boy, "not ever! You know that, Charlotte."

"Silverweb of McDaniels?" I set my soup spoon down and used my napkin hastily. "Has something happened to her?"

"Nothing serious, Responsible," said Rozasharn of McDaniels, "and nothing that can't be mended. She's been left too long unmarried, and this is where that sort of thing leads to."

"I hadn't heard," I said. "What's happened?"

"Well," said Rozasharn, "as I understand it Silverweb decided you needed somebody to be guardmaid-or companion, who knows? to be company at any rate-on your Quest. And that young one

packed a pair of saddlebags, stole a Mule from the McDaniels stables, and started off after you."

"She didn't get far," observed her husband, handing the meat platter

down the table. "Her daddy caught up with her before noon the following day and took her straight back to Castle McDaniels."

"For a licking," said the one they called Boy Salem.

"Not for a licking," corrected Granny Twinsorrel. "Boy Salem, you'll never make a Magician if you don't learn to turn on your brain before you begin rattling off at the mouth. Young women of fifteen don't get lickings, it wouldn't be proper."

The boy snorted, and wrinkled up his nose."Not fair," he said. "Not fair atall.""What did they do to her?" I asked reluctantly, not really sure I wanted to know. I had high hopes for Silverweb, and I bore a

certain guilt for having ranked her when I was at Castle McDaniels.

"Packed her off to Castle Airy in disgrace," said Salem Sheridan.

"And to the tender care of all three of the Grannys there. Seven weeks and a day, she's to be servingmaid to those Grannys. I do expect that will have some effect on her."

Poor wretched Silverweb... I knew what that would mean. She'd hem miles and miles of burgundy draperies, and then be made to take the hems out and do them over till her fingers bled. She'd boil vats of herbs half as tall as she was, stirring them for hours at a time with a wooden staff. And she'd pick nutmeats- they'd have her doing that with bushels of nuts, staining her fingers black where they weren't bleeding. And scrubbing the Castle corridor floors with gritty sand. And worse.

"Oh, what ever made her take such a notion?" I asked, cross in spite of feeling sorry for her.

"Like I said," said Rozasharn, "she's been left too long unmarried.

Silverweb's going on sixteen, and that's far too old. It's a wonder she's not done worse."

"And she may have," put in one of the older children. "Our daddy says Silverweb of McDaniels could very well of dressed like a man and kidnapped that baby out of your church, Responsible of Bright.w.a.ter! He says she's plenty big enough and strong enough- and bold enough, too.""I was there," I protested, "and I can't believe that, not atall! I'm sure it was a man... and I'm sure it wasn't Silverweb of McDaniels.

She's a fine young woman, I give you my word on that; she's just maybe a bit strong-minded."

"She ought to have a husband and two babies to occupy her energy

by now," said Salem Sheridan, "and I fault her parents for that.

Though I agree she's got to be punished for running off, and for taking the Mule without permission, and the rest of it. That's fitting, and expected."

"She'll live through it," said Granny Twinsorrel. "And maybe she'll

learn a thing or two about pride."

"Now, Granny-" Rozasharn began, but the woman cut her off sharp.

"Pride is all that's keeping that one spinster," said Granny Twinsorrel, "simple pride. Her father's offered her three marriages, each one fully suitable, each of the men with land and a homeplace and a good future ahead of him. And Miss Yellow-Haired High-and-Mighty wouldn't accept any one of the three. Two fine men from Kingdom Guthrie, and one of our own-and none of them good enough for her. Pride, that is, and it'll lead her to no good end."

"They say," said Rozasharn, "that she has ambitions. And if that's

true, she'll make no marriage, Granny Twinsorrel."She has ambitions. In front of the children, that would mean that Silverweb intended to become a Granny the hard way, and go virgin to her grave; and there was no reason for a woman to do that unless she had her eyes out for a chance to become a Magician as well as a

Granny. Which was "having ambitions."

I frowned into my soup, but went back to eating it. Silverweb was none of my business, and no reason for her to come between me and my supper.

The rock that whistled past my ear went into the bowl of mashed sweet potatoes, which weren't enough to slow it down any, and on beyond to hit the far wall with a resounding smack. Whoever had thrown it had put considerable muscle behind it, and I couldn't say it made my stomach calm. But not a one of the Lewises moved, or paused in their eating, or turned a hair, so far as I could tell. An Attendant stepped forward from the door and picked up the rock, and went off with it somewhere, while the Lewises went right on with their meal.

"Rozasharn of McDaniels," I said, my voice more a quiver than I'd intended it to be, "how many more of those are we likely to be favored with this evening?"

"Half a dozen, maybe," she said. "Maybe a few more, maybe a few less."

"Well, don't you mind having rocks thrown at you like that?""Gracious, child," said Granny Twinsorrel, "those rocks aren't being thrown at us. It's a bit of fuss in your honor-started about the time you crossed the border of Kingdom Lewis, I calculate, which is why we were a mite disorganized when you arrived, and will stop when you move on. We don't plan to pay the fool thing any attention, it will only make it worse."

"n.o.body's been either hurt or bothered," said Rozasharn

soothingly. "You'll notice there's not even dust in the potato dish."

"We can put up with it," said Boy Salem, backing her up. "Besides, I like to see what it does."

What it did next may have amused Boy Salem, but it didn't amuse me in the slightest. n.o.body wants a live lizard in her soup, and since Rozasharn of McDaniels was so calm about all this I strongly wished it had been in her bowl instead of mine.

"Teh," said Granny Twinsorrel. "Now that was rude."

"Can I fish it out?" asked Boy Salem. "Is it real? Can I get it out for you?" He was fairly hopping up and down in his chair.

It was real enough, about four inches long, and a bright poisonous

green. It put back its narrow head and hissed at me, and I fancied it was a little warmer there among the potatoes and the jebroots than it cared to be.

"Never mind, Boy Salem," I said disgustedly. "I'd best do it myself,

I believe."

Granny Twinsorrel's voice came sharp and sudden. "Don't you put silver to it, young woman!" she told me. "It's not the creature's fault. Use your fingers."

I knew that much, but I didn't sa.s.s the Granny; I reached into my soup with two careful fingertips, caught the little animal by the tip of its tail, and lifted it out into the air still spitting.