GROUNDLING 4: TRANSITIONS
by ardavenport
- - - Part 1
Onie panted hard as she ran around the last corner of the fighting salle building. All the others in the class had disappeared around it already. She was the last. Her side hurt, her head hurt, the pains throbbing with the beat of her feet slamming down onto the packed earth. She put on as much of a burst of speed as she could muster, but she actually felt like she was running slower. She made sure that she passed Captain Kerowyn's invisible finish line before throwing herself down onto the cold ground, gasping for air.
The handle of the wooded bucket she carried thunked and clanked as it dropped beside her. But the nausea was already passing.
Kerowyn had her arms folded over her leather-armored chest. "Do you need the bucket?"
Onie pushed herself up just enough to shake her head and fall back down onto the icy yellowed grass, pounded flat by many students.
"Good. We'll have you up to three laps in no time. All right the rest of you, get going! Nothing to see here!" she shouted to the stragglers who had stopped to look and they hurried on. Rolling onto her side, Onie hugged the ground for only a few more gasps before getting up and crawling to the side of the building to get out of the trampling path of the others students when they came around the building again. Then she went down on her belly. She recovered faster when she lay flat on the ground. She was sure that Healer Luba would be intrigued by that. But, of course, Onie had not told any of the Healers what she was doing. She supposed they would find out, but hopefully not until she got better at all the things that she had to take her feet off the ground for.
She had not spoken to Captain Kerowyn or Alberich, either. She had just come into fighting class one day and instead of skipping the running exercise around the salle, she joined the others, ran as far as she could until she fell down and vomited into the bushes. Kerowyn said nothing. But for the next class she handed Onie a bucket to run with and told her to use it and take it out to the midden to empty after class; the palace gardeners had complained. Several days later, after Onie could manage one lap around the salle building, she told Onie to only run as far as she could without retching, though she still had Onie run with the bucket. Kerowyn made no comment other than what looked like an appreciative smirk.
It was horrible, but Onie could feel the incremental improvement as she ran a little farther each day. The sickness was not going away, she just seemed to be building up a tolerance for it, lengthening the time she could run or jump or ride before her body rebelled, dizziness and nausea felling her. Lillis did not like it, but she cooperated, galloping with her Chosen on her back, Onie leaning forward with eyes focused on the ground in front of them. Even on her own Companion she would never be a good rider, but she was determined to be at least adequate. The steady pounding of hooves on frozen ground throbbed inside her head when Lillis ran, but if she breathed deeply and kept her eyes on the horizon, she could imagine herself riding over the pain, as if it was a separate thing from her. She did the same thing for her running. Holding the pain away from her was an internal balancing act that she was slowly getting better at. And as an added side-effect, Onie's stair climbing had improved greatly. She could now spend a whole candlemark in the library on the third floor of the Collegium, though the first time she did it, she had brought an oiled bag concealed between her books, so she would have something to contain her nausea if she needed it. She couldn't study or concentrate on much beyond not being sick up there, but she could now look up and retrieve her own books for her classes and no longer needed to get them from the first floor Palace library.
Hearing the rest of the weapons class pounding toward her, Onie pushed herself up off the cold ground. Even with snow on it, she felt better for lying on the earth after running. She got up and followed them all inside. They were doing hand-to-hand fighting without weapons. Captain Kerowyn could not only make any object into a fighting instrument, Onie was quite sure that she could kill anyone with any part of her body. This class was devoted to the deadly capabilities of elbows and knees. The class paired off and alternated who wore the padding.
Midway through the class, Bronner Childorn strolled in and took over as Onie's Trainee partner. The former merchant-now-Herald to whom Onie had been assigned as secretary had made it a semi-regular habit to join her fighting classes. After years of riding with and sometimes defending trade caravans of valuable goods through Valdemar and many other lands, he already had decades-worth of fighting experience. Not long after he had assumed his duties as Herald-advisor to the Queen, he had presented himself to both Kerowyn and Albericht and been pronounced adequate with a sword and staff; high praise for the demanding Weapons masters. But his bowmanship was lacking and his knife throwing skills were even worse, so he showed up for practice and instruction at least every few days.
Her duties as his 'secretary' were so far extraordinarily light, since both of them were still working out exactly what her position was, except that Childorn had pronounced Onie's Ground Gift to be useful and the Queen had put them together. They spent more time training together or studying than doing any work for the Crown. Valdemaran law was the one class that Childorn was required to take at the Collegium.
Onie aimed an elbow at Bron's helmeted head, missed and ended up falling forward, body spread out on a mat. Half a second later, he put his weight on her legs.
"Aye!"
"Well, don't just lay there when you go down!"
Onie twisted around enough to make him lose his balance. Bron rolled away and quickly brought his arms up. She glared at him and he dropped his arms.
"Your reactions are pathetic." Grunting, he climbed to his feet. He often complained about not being young anymore, but he seemed to make up for his age and lack of speed with experience. "Don't just stop every time you take a hit. The fight isn't going to wait for you to figure out your next move."
Onie got to her feet as well. How was she supposed to hit back when she didn't know where she was hitting? Everyone said that she had to train to act on reflex, but she hadn't worked out exactly what that was. When Kerowyn responded to a hit, it was lightning fast, accurate and you could feel it though leather and padding, the blow almost going through her whole body. How did she do that?
Thankfully, the bell rang and class ended. They gave their equipment to a couple of older Herald-Trainees whose chore that day was to clean and put it all away; then they all trudged outside, most to the Collegium, but Onie headed for the stables to meet Lillis.
Bron strolled with her, their feet crunching together on the path swept clear of the light dusting of snow from the day before.
"Still punishing yourself, I see."
"Aye. I s'pose ye could call it that. But I still gots ridin' ta do."
"Is the galloping going any better than it looks?" Bron generally attended the same riding practices she did. Onie frowned back at him.
"Gettin' better, I thinks."
Bron's lip curled into a crooked and knowing grin. He had heard the doubt in Onie's voice.
Arriving at Companion's stable, Bron met his own Companion. Hyer, whose first Chosen had died many years ago; after that he had spent most of that time as a gloomy recluse in the groves of Companion's Field. Now that he had Chosen Childorn, he took his comforts seriously in a warm stable when there was snow on the ground.
Onie was had taken down a work saddle and was walking with it when Lillis came in. Her cheerful trot stumbled to a halt, her head and ears going up.
Bron started laughing.
Onie looked from him to her Companion. She had clearly read the meaning that Lillis now obviously wished she could take back.
Riding again? At least let the bruises heal.
Bron was now bent over, he was laughing so hard; Hyer was snuffling along with him in the closest thing to a laugh that Onie had ever heard from any Companion.
Onie dropped the saddle on the hay strewn ground.
Going to Lillis, she pulled up her head and looked hard into her sapphire blue eyes.
"Ye ought ta tell me when I'm na doin' well. 'Spec'ly if it's hurtin' ye."
Lillis flicked her ears back, that it wasn't really that bad. But Onie slowly shook her head. She went back and picked up the saddle. A few grooms passed by, looking a little concerned about Bron who was now sitting on the ground with tears running down his eyes. Head down, Hyer leaned his forehead on Bron's side, his eyes closed.
Onie returned the saddle to the tack room. Going back to Bron and Hyer, she stood over them, hands on her hips, until Bron wiped his eyes and looked up.
"Tisn't tha' funny. Ye hurts Lillis's feelins, too."
Childorn climbed to his feet and swayed like a drunkard, a big grin under his bristly mustache and hook nose. Hyer snorted and shook his head. The matching blue eyes of Companion and Chosen shone with glee.
"It was funny and you," he whirled, pointing at Lillis who lifted her head in surprise. "Don't get your feelings hurt about saying the truth." His finger went to Onie. "You might be better at running and climbing now - - though throwing up less is a pretty low standard - - but your riding is as bad as ever. Oh, you're adequate at a walk and a trot, but as soon as Lillis gets her feet off the ground, you look like a sack of grain with a head on it."
Onie folded her arms over her chest and glared back. "Well, I'd be happy ta hear ye suggestions 'bout what ta do or hows ta fix it."
Bron threw his hands up. "I don't know. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to ride a Companion as bad as you do. Have you thought about instead of beating yourselves up, maybe you should ask those Mages who are so interested in your Ground Gift what the problem is? Or maybe any of the other Companions?"
She stared back. She had not thought about asking any of the Mages for help. Why? They always just walked away in disbelief when none of their tricks worked on her. Why would they have any better ideas than her riding instructors? But the other Companions . . . ?
Lillis stared, wide-eyed toward Hyer, but a moment later her eyes narrowed crossly and she stamped a hoof.
"Aye, tha rest'o tha herd don' know na more 'bout me riding than we do. Why'd they na say it ta Lillis afore now?"
He leaned forward. "Because they were waiting for her to ask." Straightening, he folded his own arms over his chest. "Wisdom isn't just knowing things. It's knowing when you don't know something and when you need to ask for help. And Lillis is one of the youngest Companions to Choose in a long time; it's past time for both of you to learn that lesson now."
Onie glared back, her temper rising. She hardly felt it was Bron's business to be talking down to her now, especially after all the riding classes they both attended, but . . . . she really had not thought about asking for any help from the Mages. Or the Companions.
"Hmmm." She went to Lillis. "Well, maybe wees has'ta think 'bout what's we needs ta ask first." They both turned toward the stable door.
"Well, after you're done with that, maybe you can join me after midday meal in the Council Chambers?
Onie looked back. "Aye?"
"There's some kind of meeting this afternoon about the kingdom's accounts. Maybe you can let me know if anyone's lying."
"Ye think they'd be lying ta tha Queen 'bout'er accounts?"
"It's money. Everybody lies about money," he stated, his face going serious for a second before he sighed. "No, I don't. But apparently the Kingdom settles its accounts in the winter like everyone else when we're all inside and snowed in. It takes a little time to do a whole Kingdom, so they do some before Winter Festival and finish it after. I have been reliably promised many candlemarks of pure boredom. I thought I'd invite you to come as my secretary."
She shrugged back. "I should be there by firs' bell after tha meal?"
He nodded. "That'll do."
She nodded back and left with Lillis. Their steps crunched on the hard packed ground, Lillis's steps accented with a very soft chime from her hooves. The sky was gray, the clouds low, the air crisp and very clean without even the usual hint of a wood fire from the Palace or the rest of Haven. It looked like there would be more snow, but presumably not heavy, or the Foreseers would have sent out a warning.
Lillis paused at the bridge to Companion's Field and turned a blue-eyed inquiry to Onie.
"I can cross tha bridge," Onie replied shortly and strode forward. The threats of vertigo and nausea were still there, especially halfway across, but keeping her bespectacled eyes forward on the promise of the solid snowy ground ahead always helped. When they were across, they went to their usual place by the fence facing the Palace grounds, the snowy paths trodden gray by many footsteps.
"Me ridin' isna gettin' any better, is'it?"
Lillis sadly nodded an affirmative.
"Ye don' needs ta be embarrassed 'bout it. I'm tha one who canna ride."
Lillis shook her mane with a Companion's pride. Onie did not feel up to arguing. Her thoughts had gone to her new task. Who should she ask for help?
The Mages? Ever since the disaster with the Hawkbrother Mage Sunwing who tested her Ground Gift with a talisman that got him banished from Valdemar by a decree from the Queen herself, none of the other foreign Mages had come near her, as if Sunwing's punishment might be contagious. Princess Elspeth and her Hawkbrother husband, Darkwind, were the senior Mages, but they seemed to have given up on or gotten bored with trying to sort out her Ground Gift. Onie had not seen either for a fortnight. None of the Herald-Mages who were being trained were anywhere near their level.
The Companions?
"Hyer may na know everythin'. Ye don' think ye's could ask Gwena if she has some ideas wha' we could do ta be ridin' better?"
Lillis perked her ears up in affirmation. Then her gaze drifted, a sure sign of Mind-Speaking.
Onie pondered another possibility while Lillis was busy. The Healers? She had been avoiding Healer Luba because she was exerting herself to point of vomiting in weapons class and she was sure that the normally cheerful Healer would not approve. She sighed and supposed it was time to talk to Luba about and her bad riding.
Lillis's sapphire eyes blinked and drooped. Onie sighed again. The other Companions did not know how to help her riding. That was not a good answer. Who knew more about riding than the Companions?
"Well, if I'us gots ta ask fer help, I guess I needs ta start."
Lillis nudged her hard with her nose and pranced back.
"Okay, 'we' gots ta ask. But I donna know wha' tha griffins would know 'bout ridin'." Lillis could Mindspeak to them and any of the other non-human Mages, but she doubted that they could know any more about how to fix her riding problem than the Companions. "I gots enough time ta see Luba afore midday meal; if she's at tha House'a'Healin' taday."
Lillis took Onie back over the bridge bareback - it was quicker than walking - and then they parted.
There were a couple of other people waiting, sitting on a plain bench by the white-washed wall of the entryway of the House of Healing. One of them was coughing a lot. Onie stood away from them. She usually did not get sick in the cold season, but when people came to the House of Healing at the Collegium it was often because they had something very bad and she knew well enough to stay away from it. A Healer Trainee came out and ushered them inside. Another Trainee assumed a position at the desk and Onie asked if she could see Healer Luba. The Trainee admitted that she was in, but engaged with a patient and his dismissive tone told Onie that he did not think she should interrupt, but he took her message inside anyway.
So, it was a great surprise that he returned almost immediately to escort her in to see Luba. Going to the below-ground level, he took her to a small room. Luba was inside with an older male Healer. And Chellie.
"Aye?" Onie exclaimed as Chellie ran to throw her arms around her.
"Please, Onie, please tell them to cut me, Onie! I'll die if they don't!" she cried into Onie's chest.
Stunned, Onie limply patted Chellie's back. Onie had been made the guardian of the girl, formerly the second heir of Lord Drogon, to keep her safe from being forced to participate in a cruel ritual to restore her misplaced manhood or die trying. She looked toward the two Healers.
"Aye?" she asked again.
Luba stood with an expression of sadness that was meant for patients she could not heal. "Chellie, I'm sorry, but Healer Uratus and I agree. It would be barbaric to do that to you now, especially since you're so young. It's much too soon to make that decision. Once it's done, it's done. It can't be taken back."
"But the herbs aren't working!" She tore herself away from Onie. "I don't want to change! It's the only way to stop it! You have to stop it!" Her voice cracked and she covered her mouth with both hands. Then she cried, eyes squeezed shut.
Onie finally pieced together what they were talking about. The subject had come up before, when Chellie first renounced herself as a boy. "Ye gots stronger herbs for'er?"
"We do," Luba affirmed, going to her tearful patient. "We have to try them first, no matter what we do."
Chellie pulled back from the attempted hug. "I don't want to lose this," she grabbed the front of her blue dress, clutching it desperately. "I can't lose this," she sobbed.
"You won't," Luba told her. "Uratus, please, get Sendrick for me. And Healer Ingress if she's free." She named one of the herbalists at the Collegium. The man curtly nodded and left, brushing past Onie on his way out. Chellie finally let Luba embrace and comfort her. "But the herbs we'll be using are very strong. You will have to stay with us for a few days, to make sure things go right." Chellie nodded into Luba's ample chest.
Feeling quite useless, Onie stood there. Chellie's condition was completely outside of her experience. She was happy to help her escape her relatives, but she did not know what else she could do. Chellie had quieted down by the time Ingress, the Mind Healer, and Sendrick arrived together.
After some more assurances, Luba left Chellie with them. She took Onie out with her.
"I knew she was after ye's ta geld'er, but I didna knows she come back fer it. Tha herbs ye give'er na workin' then?"
"They're working; she's just over-reacting." Luba let out her pent-up frustration as they climbed the stairs to the ground level. "She does not listen when I tell her that both men and women grow hair in certain places when they grow up. I wanted Healer Uratus to explain to her exactly what he would have to do for that kind of surgery; I hoped it would discourage her, but she just wanted it more." She shook her head. "I don't understand it. What if she meets someone when she's older? What if she wants to have a family? She won't be able to take it back later when it matters."
Together, they stood in a whitewashed hallway of the House of Healing. "You have to talk to her. Have Lady Delias talk to her. Forbid her from doing it, if you must."
"Aye? Me? Don' see how I has a say in'it."
Luba gave her a stern look. "You are her guardian, Onie Thatcher, until she's reached sixteen years at least. She has to get your permission. What did you think being a guardian meant when you agreed to it?"
The angry demand from the normally mild and cheerful Luba startled Onie, but she did not like the accusation aimed at her either.
"I thought it meant Chellie wouldna hav'ta be dragged off ta a winter rite that was to make'er inta a man'er kill'er tryin'. Or ta keep'er from being beatin' up more by Lord Drogon's bullies."
Chin in the air, the stout Healer glared back, but then she relented. "Yes, of course, it means that, too. But it means a lot more now. Please, Onie, talk to her when we send her back home. Have Lady Delias talk to her; she of all people, would be able to make her understand what a terrible thing she wants to do."
"Why's that?"
Luba looked surprised. "You know the story about Lady Delias trying to claim her maid's son for her own."
"Aye. Tha Maid was me sister an' tha son is me nephew who grew up wit' me in me parents' house."
"Well, that's what desperate women do after they hold a baby in their arms and know they can't have children of their own. Delias was a Lord's only daughter who always got everything she wanted until then; but there aren't enough Healers and herbs in Valdemar that could get her body to carry a child and heir for her father. Chellie does not know what she's asking for, but maybe Delias can get her to think of her future."
"Was ye there when it all happened?" Onie asked, suddenly realizing that she had never thought about asking the other people who were there when her sister, Mec, was in Haven with Lady Delias when Sami was born. She did not know Delias well enough to ask about anything so personal, and her sister had stubbornly not talked about it for years.
Luba shook her head. "No. But I have talked to those who were there. Delias was ruined. Her father did not spare her any punishment. He took her back up north and rumor was that she was publicly whipped and spent 3 years locked up in a tower for what she did." Luba leaned close, her voice earnest. "In spite of her reputation, Delias does seem to care about Chellie; you have to talk to her about this. Will you be seeing her soon?"
"Aye." Onie nodded. "I goes over ta Munthunt House fa dinner wit'er an' Chellie ev'ry week and that's ta'night."
Good. And," she sighed, "you can tell her that Chellie is not just staying here because the herbs we'll be using will be strong. I don't want her doing herself any harm. Or running away and swearing herself to some goddess cult that won't ask her age and will do the deed in return for a life of service.
"Ye think she'd do tha'?"
"I have seen desperation, Onie, and so has Healer Ingress," she stated without answering the question. "It's best to be safe when you see it."
They walked together to the entryway. "Do ye needs me ta say anythin' ta Chellie?" Onie felt queasy about what she could possibly say to the girl about her choices, but it felt wrong not to offer, especially after Luba's reminder about her position. Being Chellie's guardian had been a convenience that had gotten her out of trouble with her family, but now it was becoming something more serious. Thankfully, Luba shook her head.
"I'll call if we need anything from you. I'll send a messenger to Lady Delias that Chellie will be with us for a few days. Just talk to her about Chellie. If both of you talk to her, she might see some sense and start thinking more about her future."
Onie agreed and they parted.
She was halfway back to the Collegium before she realized that she had completely forgotten to ask Luba if she might know of anything that would help her riding. Pushing her spectacles up, she looked back to the House of Healing and shook her head. She would ask about that later.
- - - End Part 1