Part I
Glenna n'ha Linnea stood up, rubbing her aching back. She had been bent over the small redberry bush for at least two candlemarks, examining it closely for any sign of what might be ailing the poor thing. At 21, Glenna was a full-fledged member of the Comhi-Letzii or Guild of Renunciates, free women who answered to no man, and she was proud that her duties surpassed those of the novices. She had chosen herbology and the healing arts to apprentice in, and when working with plants, she often forgot to keep track of time as it passed. She could judge by the position of the red sun that it was almost dinnertime.
As she entered Dalereuth Guildhouse's spacious kitchen with a large handful of fragrant mountain mint for the dinner tea, a hunting hound ran by, followed by a squealing novice. Recognizing the girl, Glenna spoke sharply. "Annylys n'ha Linnel, why is there a dog in the House?"
The 14 year-old looked up, mischief in her eyes. "Trini and I were just having a pre-dinner nibble, Glenna." She pushed a hunk of spicebread into a pocket of her too-large trousers.
"The food in the kitchen is for people, not dogs." Glenna's voice was stern. She had learned about the unseen creatures called germs that were the real cause of illnesses, and she and the older healers in the house had to insist on proper hygiene, especially among younger Sisters raised outside the House. Dirty hounds in the kitchen, indeed. Glenna's pert nose wrinkled in distaste.
"Your problem, Glenna, is you spend too much time with plants and not enough with animals. Why, Darna says you'd rather clean outhouses than stable duty—"
"And your problem, Annylys, is that you have no respect for the rules or your elders. You may take an extra turn at stable duty next tenday for this," Glenna snapped, waving her hand at the dog, who had the decency to look ashamed. Glenna was ashamed as soon as she had spoken; it was true that she didn't care to spend time with the animals and had not bonded with any of the Guild's many four-footed helpers. Or the winged ones. Animals were part of her painful past, and she was not about to discuss any aspect of that with a 14 year-old.
Annylys simply fumed as she returned the dog to its kennel. Someday she was going to crack through that prissy Glenna's shell.
Part II
Annylys' chance came sooner than she expected. Lora, a visiting sister from Thendara House, where Glenna had several friends, was giving a riveting update of the news from Darkover's "big city." Lora was a wonderful storyteller, and Annylys found herself interested despite not knowing any of the women involved in the story. One of the sisters had met a man in the market who had just bought a horse.
"So there he is, this Terranan, laying on the ground, and his new horse won't let him mount it--"
"Good for the horse!" shouted one woman, who had poured herself a third glass of wine, and Lora had to wait until the laughter died down.
"It turns out the stallion will have nothing to do with male riders, but he's as gentle as a lamb with a woman on his back. He's fast and sturdy as well. I am half tempted to sell him as a lady's horse to some lordship, but with his story it seems fitting he remains in the Guild, do you not think, ladies? Knowing as he does that a woman will not ride him into foolishness as a man might, he may be the Guild's first male member yet!"
Annylys giggled at the thought of the Terran man who had bought a horse he could not ride. She had nothing against men herself, but she knew some of the older sisters, Glenna included, preferred the company of other women. But Lora had changed topics now, and Annylys lost interest.
"Glenna, you remember Rayna n'ha Hilary, do you not? Her mother was one of the Terran sisters? She has taken a male freemate, one of her father's distant kin, a man named Lorenzo from Caer Donn."
Glenna's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I have never understood women who choose to live with men, but I suppose breeding is necessary--"
"Says the future midwife," Annylys put in dryly and was pleased to hear a chuckle or two, for Glenna had been accompanying the midwife on her rounds the last few tendays.
"This is no time to raise that old debate, Glenna n'ha Linnea," an elder interrupted. "Save it for a training session. All men are not your father."
"I have met few who hesitate to sell their daughters to the highest bidder," was Glenna's parting shot as she helped Annylys and two other women carry the dirty plates from the long tables to the kitchen.
Part III
"I wish your visit could have lasted longer," Glenna told Lora, as the two walked through the town of Dalereuth a few days later.
"I wish one of the sisters had offered to buy that stallion." Lora's cheery voice held a note of sadness. "He's a good fellow, but I won't be able to sell him to the comyn this season. I cannot foist him off on some poor farmer's wife, either. Most women will not buy a horse their husbands cannot ride."
Glenna remained silent. Perhaps Lora's loss of profit would teach the merchant that purchases should not be made on whims.
"Oh, Glenna--" Lora started.
"I have no need of a horse."
"Sure, you do. I've seen the Guild horses you have here. They're nice creatures, but they're not that bright. He's a silvery color, too--a great- looking chap for having four legs and all. And a healer needs a horse," Lora said. "If you don't agree to purchase him, I shall tell the others you turned down a wonderful bargain, so they will all make fun of you. At least come and meet him," she begged.
Glenna finally nodded. It wouldn't be a pet, exactly. Just a tool of her trade, like the black bag she carried her ointments and salves in.
When they returned to the stable, Lora led Glenna to a gray stallion. The healer's own dark gray eyes welled up. He was beautiful. She should stop this silliness now. Guild horses were good enough for her... Lora had not seemed to notice Glenna's reaction and was still chattering. "Not a usual shade of gray, this silver. Looks like a sword, and he runs like a sword slicing through air. Give him a try, Glenna. He's not particular about his women."
Glenna climbed awkwardly upon the horse, who turned to look at her with intelligent eyes. Then it nodded, as if she were somehow acceptable before turning to face forward again. "See what I meant about him being an intelligent chap?" Lora asked. "Looked you up and down. Cheeky too. Wouldn't take that from a human man myself, but from a horse--" Her eyes were full of laughter. "What do you say, old girl? Worth a bag of copper?"
Glenna slid to the ground. "Why don't we work the price and details out after dinner? Provided I don't change my mind."
Lora clapped her on the back. "Perfect. And then I'll tell the story about the catman who wandered into the Snowy Trails tavern..."
When Lora had left the stable, Glenna looked at the horse, this time allowing tears to fall. The stallion turned to look at her as she collapsed on a bale of hay. "People replace pets all the time. Why can't I?" she sobbed. "I'm supposed to be grown up now, damn it to Zandru's coldest hell," she muttered. Still, the memory hurt like it had happened yesterday.
Behind her closed eyes, a sixteen year-old Glenna watched her father sell her precious Chiya to a horsetrader. The pretty brown-eyed mare's sad looked back at Glenna, who was torn between saving her horse or her future. "Now maybe you'll marry Eidric's son before word gets out you're barren," her younger brother had taunted. "Can't do either of the things a woman is good for--your cooking is dreadful and you can't have babies. No man will bed you if that gets out. I bet even the Amazons won't take an emmasca."
"Oh, yeah, Ian? I'm not an emmasca, and they did take me. And now I can help other women have babies. So there." She had lived with the Guild for a year before finally taking the Oath, but she had somehow known she would take it from the moment she entered the door.
Annylys, cleaning the next stall, heard Glenna talking to herself and thought about approaching her. Then again, she didn't really want stable duty for yet another tenday. No one liked stable duty that much. She decided to make as much noise as possible with her pitchfork so that the other woman would realize she wasn't alone. She thumped it against the wall. "Clumsy me." She spoke out loudly.
It took Glenna a few moments for the noise to penetrate. Annylys. Avarra, was that girl following her? Then she remembered that the Guildmother had let the stable duty punishment stand. She wiped her eyes, guiltily. A grown woman crying over a horse, indeed. She had cried over Chiya countless nights as a novice. She had to live in the present now.
"So whatcha naming your new horse?" Annylys asked, peering over the stall wall.
"I don't know. My last horse was named Chiya, but Chiyu seems a little undignified for a stallion."
"Did Chiya die?" Annylys knew she should not take advantage of Glenna's attempt at conversation.
"Probably. She was very old when I saw her last, and that was years ago, bredilla." As she called Annylys "little sister" for the first time, she remembered being a fourteen year-old farmgirl, chasing the waterfowl through the house and being scolded for it. No one would arrange a hasty marriage for Annylys for any reason. She touched her shortsword in a reassuring gesture. "I think I shall name him Claithmor after my trusty sword here."
"A Renunciate's two best friends are her knife and horse," Annylys said, knowingly.
"You sound older than your years, little one. Let me help you clean out the rest of the stalls, and then we'll snitch some spicebread together. And an apple for Claithmor," she said, her eyes clear as they gazed into her new friends'.
Glenna n'ha Linnea stood up, rubbing her aching back. She had been bent over the small redberry bush for at least two candlemarks, examining it closely for any sign of what might be ailing the poor thing. At 21, Glenna was a full-fledged member of the Comhi-Letzii or Guild of Renunciates, free women who answered to no man, and she was proud that her duties surpassed those of the novices. She had chosen herbology and the healing arts to apprentice in, and when working with plants, she often forgot to keep track of time as it passed. She could judge by the position of the red sun that it was almost dinnertime.
As she entered Dalereuth Guildhouse's spacious kitchen with a large handful of fragrant mountain mint for the dinner tea, a hunting hound ran by, followed by a squealing novice. Recognizing the girl, Glenna spoke sharply. "Annylys n'ha Linnel, why is there a dog in the House?"
The 14 year-old looked up, mischief in her eyes. "Trini and I were just having a pre-dinner nibble, Glenna." She pushed a hunk of spicebread into a pocket of her too-large trousers.
"The food in the kitchen is for people, not dogs." Glenna's voice was stern. She had learned about the unseen creatures called germs that were the real cause of illnesses, and she and the older healers in the house had to insist on proper hygiene, especially among younger Sisters raised outside the House. Dirty hounds in the kitchen, indeed. Glenna's pert nose wrinkled in distaste.
"Your problem, Glenna, is you spend too much time with plants and not enough with animals. Why, Darna says you'd rather clean outhouses than stable duty—"
"And your problem, Annylys, is that you have no respect for the rules or your elders. You may take an extra turn at stable duty next tenday for this," Glenna snapped, waving her hand at the dog, who had the decency to look ashamed. Glenna was ashamed as soon as she had spoken; it was true that she didn't care to spend time with the animals and had not bonded with any of the Guild's many four-footed helpers. Or the winged ones. Animals were part of her painful past, and she was not about to discuss any aspect of that with a 14 year-old.
Annylys simply fumed as she returned the dog to its kennel. Someday she was going to crack through that prissy Glenna's shell.
Part II
Annylys' chance came sooner than she expected. Lora, a visiting sister from Thendara House, where Glenna had several friends, was giving a riveting update of the news from Darkover's "big city." Lora was a wonderful storyteller, and Annylys found herself interested despite not knowing any of the women involved in the story. One of the sisters had met a man in the market who had just bought a horse.
"So there he is, this Terranan, laying on the ground, and his new horse won't let him mount it--"
"Good for the horse!" shouted one woman, who had poured herself a third glass of wine, and Lora had to wait until the laughter died down.
"It turns out the stallion will have nothing to do with male riders, but he's as gentle as a lamb with a woman on his back. He's fast and sturdy as well. I am half tempted to sell him as a lady's horse to some lordship, but with his story it seems fitting he remains in the Guild, do you not think, ladies? Knowing as he does that a woman will not ride him into foolishness as a man might, he may be the Guild's first male member yet!"
Annylys giggled at the thought of the Terran man who had bought a horse he could not ride. She had nothing against men herself, but she knew some of the older sisters, Glenna included, preferred the company of other women. But Lora had changed topics now, and Annylys lost interest.
"Glenna, you remember Rayna n'ha Hilary, do you not? Her mother was one of the Terran sisters? She has taken a male freemate, one of her father's distant kin, a man named Lorenzo from Caer Donn."
Glenna's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I have never understood women who choose to live with men, but I suppose breeding is necessary--"
"Says the future midwife," Annylys put in dryly and was pleased to hear a chuckle or two, for Glenna had been accompanying the midwife on her rounds the last few tendays.
"This is no time to raise that old debate, Glenna n'ha Linnea," an elder interrupted. "Save it for a training session. All men are not your father."
"I have met few who hesitate to sell their daughters to the highest bidder," was Glenna's parting shot as she helped Annylys and two other women carry the dirty plates from the long tables to the kitchen.
Part III
"I wish your visit could have lasted longer," Glenna told Lora, as the two walked through the town of Dalereuth a few days later.
"I wish one of the sisters had offered to buy that stallion." Lora's cheery voice held a note of sadness. "He's a good fellow, but I won't be able to sell him to the comyn this season. I cannot foist him off on some poor farmer's wife, either. Most women will not buy a horse their husbands cannot ride."
Glenna remained silent. Perhaps Lora's loss of profit would teach the merchant that purchases should not be made on whims.
"Oh, Glenna--" Lora started.
"I have no need of a horse."
"Sure, you do. I've seen the Guild horses you have here. They're nice creatures, but they're not that bright. He's a silvery color, too--a great- looking chap for having four legs and all. And a healer needs a horse," Lora said. "If you don't agree to purchase him, I shall tell the others you turned down a wonderful bargain, so they will all make fun of you. At least come and meet him," she begged.
Glenna finally nodded. It wouldn't be a pet, exactly. Just a tool of her trade, like the black bag she carried her ointments and salves in.
When they returned to the stable, Lora led Glenna to a gray stallion. The healer's own dark gray eyes welled up. He was beautiful. She should stop this silliness now. Guild horses were good enough for her... Lora had not seemed to notice Glenna's reaction and was still chattering. "Not a usual shade of gray, this silver. Looks like a sword, and he runs like a sword slicing through air. Give him a try, Glenna. He's not particular about his women."
Glenna climbed awkwardly upon the horse, who turned to look at her with intelligent eyes. Then it nodded, as if she were somehow acceptable before turning to face forward again. "See what I meant about him being an intelligent chap?" Lora asked. "Looked you up and down. Cheeky too. Wouldn't take that from a human man myself, but from a horse--" Her eyes were full of laughter. "What do you say, old girl? Worth a bag of copper?"
Glenna slid to the ground. "Why don't we work the price and details out after dinner? Provided I don't change my mind."
Lora clapped her on the back. "Perfect. And then I'll tell the story about the catman who wandered into the Snowy Trails tavern..."
When Lora had left the stable, Glenna looked at the horse, this time allowing tears to fall. The stallion turned to look at her as she collapsed on a bale of hay. "People replace pets all the time. Why can't I?" she sobbed. "I'm supposed to be grown up now, damn it to Zandru's coldest hell," she muttered. Still, the memory hurt like it had happened yesterday.
Behind her closed eyes, a sixteen year-old Glenna watched her father sell her precious Chiya to a horsetrader. The pretty brown-eyed mare's sad looked back at Glenna, who was torn between saving her horse or her future. "Now maybe you'll marry Eidric's son before word gets out you're barren," her younger brother had taunted. "Can't do either of the things a woman is good for--your cooking is dreadful and you can't have babies. No man will bed you if that gets out. I bet even the Amazons won't take an emmasca."
"Oh, yeah, Ian? I'm not an emmasca, and they did take me. And now I can help other women have babies. So there." She had lived with the Guild for a year before finally taking the Oath, but she had somehow known she would take it from the moment she entered the door.
Annylys, cleaning the next stall, heard Glenna talking to herself and thought about approaching her. Then again, she didn't really want stable duty for yet another tenday. No one liked stable duty that much. She decided to make as much noise as possible with her pitchfork so that the other woman would realize she wasn't alone. She thumped it against the wall. "Clumsy me." She spoke out loudly.
It took Glenna a few moments for the noise to penetrate. Annylys. Avarra, was that girl following her? Then she remembered that the Guildmother had let the stable duty punishment stand. She wiped her eyes, guiltily. A grown woman crying over a horse, indeed. She had cried over Chiya countless nights as a novice. She had to live in the present now.
"So whatcha naming your new horse?" Annylys asked, peering over the stall wall.
"I don't know. My last horse was named Chiya, but Chiyu seems a little undignified for a stallion."
"Did Chiya die?" Annylys knew she should not take advantage of Glenna's attempt at conversation.
"Probably. She was very old when I saw her last, and that was years ago, bredilla." As she called Annylys "little sister" for the first time, she remembered being a fourteen year-old farmgirl, chasing the waterfowl through the house and being scolded for it. No one would arrange a hasty marriage for Annylys for any reason. She touched her shortsword in a reassuring gesture. "I think I shall name him Claithmor after my trusty sword here."
"A Renunciate's two best friends are her knife and horse," Annylys said, knowingly.
"You sound older than your years, little one. Let me help you clean out the rest of the stalls, and then we'll snitch some spicebread together. And an apple for Claithmor," she said, her eyes clear as they gazed into her new friends'.