GROUNDLING 4: TRANSITIONS

by ardavenport

- - - Part 2

Wearing fresh Grays, Onie met Bron Childorn at the Council chamber. There were a lot of people there. Servants in Palace livery, nobles in winter velvets, guild masters and other royal advisors.

The Council chamber (thankfully for Onie's sake, on the ground level of the Palace) was a high-ceilinged wood-paneled room with the large, round council table in the middle. In the heavy, high-backed wooden chairs around it, most of the Council was there along with the Queen. Bron led the way to chairs at one of the tables along the walls. There seemed to a lot of clerks seated at desks along another wall, fresh parchments, quills and ink pots at the ready.

Three candlemarks later, Onie sat stunned by the flood of details that she was witnessing; the amounts of gold, silver and copper collected in taxes for the year, not to mention the long lists of barter goods and their equivalent monetary values accepted by the tax collectors, whole rolls of long charts with precisely drawn tables with amounts, places, people, animals, events. Onie knew that her father paid their tax for their household to the town of Fair Fields and part of that went to Haven, but she knew nothing beyond that. Somewhere on those rolls of paper, she realized, her father's name might be neatly printed on a fine straight line, squeezed between their neighbors.

And then there were the expenditures. The costs of the Guards, embassies in neighboring countries, the Heralds, repairing and clearing the roads of snow, ice and flood wreckage, provisioning the Palace, paying for the servants and Guards, the Collegium, the Archives. Haven itself had its own roll of costs, street lights, street cleaners, City Guards, trash collection, courts, the middens, the parks, repairing the walls and city buildings, the river bank patrols, the docks on the Terilee, the groundskeepers for Companion's Field ….

Onie lost track of it very quickly. She remembered seeing the stores in the lowest level of the Herald's Collegium when she first arrived. But that was a mere anthill compared to the accountings of all of Valdemar.

The whole room groaned awake with a collective shifting of bodies and chairs when a page rang the candlemark and the Queen lifted a hand to stop the Seneschal's assistant reading from a very long list and called for a pause in the proceedings. After the Queen rose and left by the private royal entrance with the Prince-Consort and the Queen's Own Herald, most people stood and stretched. A few quick-walked toward the doors (and likely the privies). Bron stamped his feet and scowled.

Onie just wondered why she was even needed to witness this; Bron obviously did not want to be there. She asked him.

"Our sovereign is a sadist, a scheming vengeful woman in Whites," he grumbled over a goblet of watered wine before sighing. "I complained once too often, I think, about the Crown's taxes, especially on the guilds. I hate paying taxes.

Onie knew that well. It was one of his favorite complaints.

"And every time I do," Bron went on, "she asks me what kind of bandit losses I'd expect on caravans traveling on un-guarded roads. Or how well we'd do in the winter with no one to clear the snow." He took another swallow and sighed. "I'll grant, there's costs to run a kingdom, but there's some taxes that just show up when you don't expect them like another thieving bandit on the road."

Onie shrugged. She had no opinion at all about what tax the Crown demanded from merchants. Her father had always dutifully paid his few coppers every year and said it was his duty to do so. Not being head of a household, Onie had never paid any tax directly, but she always paid her part to her parents once she started earning her own coin as a tavern cook. The lords and clerks started milling back toward desks and chairs.

"Ye still needs me fer mor'o this? I's s'pose ta'be at Lady Delias's house fer dinner."

"Aaah, your weekly visit with your young … sibling?" He tilted his head. "I never really figured out how you two are related."

"Na by blood; jus' through me nephew. An' I'm jus' guardian til' Chellie's of age, ta keep Lord Drogon from comin' after'er."

The private door for the royals was still closed, but Onie knew they could appear any moment and then it would be harder to leave. "Ye needs me ta be'ere? I have na been doin' na secretary'in' fer this."

Bron's eyes gleamed with the clear idea that he might want her to share more of his pain, but he let it go almost immediately. "No. There really isn't any reason for both of us to suffer. But I'm coming to your room tomorrow with our last law assignment. I'm behind again."

She agreed and hustled out of the room. Just as the guard closed the council room door, she heard the collective shuffle of everyone standing for the sovereign. She had escaped, just in time.

Going back to the Collegium, she went down below to her room. There was the end of a folded parchment poking out of the flat wooden box attached to the wall next to her door. Eagerly, she took them out. Three letters from home. Finally!

Closing the door behind her, she put the letters on her desk and lit the lamp and took off her spectacles. It was still light outside, whitened by the snow on the ground, but the room's only window was small and high and there were always shadows. Sitting down, she turned them over. One from her mother. One from Brother Callus, one from her sister, Mec. Fretting over what they might say, she picked the most harmless-looking missive from Brother Callus.

# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #

Onie,

You've brightened this season with your letters. They bring back my own memories as an acolyte at the Trine's Temple in Haven. Do you mind if I read any of them to my students here at the Shrine? They still talk of how you were Chosen though it was last summer. The story does seem to get more grand with each telling and I try to correct them. Your Choosing is a blessing of the Goddesses. I know I am repeating myself, but I do not think I will ever tire of giving thanks.

Thank-you for speaking with Sister Nollen for me. I have written to her. I had not realized that she was still there. She was ancient to my young eyes when I was at the Temple there and I am pleased to hear that she is still active. She was strict, but always kind to us. She taught us how to scribe. Did you know that the Collegium and Palace allow the Temples to copy their books? I do not know if scribing is taught to Heralds, but it is a difficult, but very noble art.

You may not know how much you are missed here. It seemed to take a few moons for your family to adjust. And I do not think that Druin Axehead has been the same since. Sadly, I must report that he has been drinking again. Esie is very vexed about it and your sister is sometimes in the middle of their fighs. I have prayed and tried to convince Druin to come to my cottage and give offerings at the shrine, but he is unhappy and is unwilling to let go of it. I have spoken to Mec and she says that she can usually hide in the kitchen or in the yard when Esie and Druin fight. Druin usually leaves when Esie complains about him being drunk or driving the custumers away and I pray that he will find his old strength and stop.

I am sorry to end on such a sad tale, so I will say that the custom at the Ox and Cart has improved mostly through your sister's cooking. Mec tells everyone that she is only following your direction from what you have learned at the Collegium. Your sister is getting a very good reputation as a cook. Know that your direction has been given good use.

Blessings of the Trine,

Your most humble servant,

Callus

# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #

Onie pushed the letter aside. It was not that harmless after all. She already knew that Druin was drinking again from her nephew's letters. She liked Druin; he had been a fair boss, even when he was drunk, but drink was his demon; he loved it more than anyone should. It was why he had taken the money he earned as a mercenary and paid for the tavern. But now it was a curse for him to be so near it all the time. He had been off of it for a whole year before she was Chosen, but now he had fallen to it again.

Putting Callus's letter aside, she dithered over the remaining two and then finally snatched up the one from her mother and tore open the seal.

This was the harmless letter. The weather was cold, but there was not too much snow. One of the cats brought in a rat. Sami was helping her father clearing paths. Her father fixed two roofs but one homeowner was slow paying for the work. Her mother was trading seeds with the neighbors for next spring's garden. She was making a new shirt for Sami since he had nearly grown out of his old one. She and her father send their love.

Onie put this one on top of the first. Obviously, despite her promise in her last letter, Mec had not told their parents about Sami's father. Perhaps she had not found the right time? The disgrace of her fatherless son had diminished; the only people in Fair Fields who looked down on Mec now were mostly people that her parents did not think were worth knowing anyway. It seemed odd for Mec to wait.

Opening her sister's letter, Onie saw that it was surprisingly short.

# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #

Onie,

I have not told Ma and Pa about Sami's father yet. I should have; I do not think they will be angry; not after all this time. But I worry now that Pa might make something out of Sami's father being a Lord. Father might think that he will inherit some fortune, but I do not think that would be right. You said Kendron has other children who live on his lands and they should come first. I want to wait to tell Ma and Pa until I hear from Delias. Has she written? I have not gotten any letters from her.

All is well here. Ma and Pa send their love.

Mec

# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #

Onie scowled. Delias had been nearly in tears to read the letter Mec had sent though she refused to show anyone its contents. What was Delias waiting for to send one back? She should have written nearly a moon ago.

Putting the letter in the back corner where she kept her correspondence, Onie got up. She would ask when she arrived for dinner.

A half a candlemark later, Lillis trotted down Swoggot Lane to where it met Redleaf Street. A moment after Onie rang the bell at the gate, the house maid ran out to unbolt it and swing it wide to let them in. Lady Delias had employed only a cook and a maid for servants since arriving in Haven. The married couple employed by Drogon's previous representative in Haven, Tomis, had left with him.

Onie unsaddled Lillis at the house's small worn down stable. Its overall structure was sound but the roof leaked in one corner and the wall planks were unpainted gray, badly weathered, broken and missing in some places. There were only two stalls, but both were empty since Lady Delias did not have any horses and seemed to have no plans for obtaining any. The maid, a middle aged woman named Frena, offered water and dried apples to Lillis who accepted only the water. The woman was in awe of the Companion; she gazed with wonder every time they arrived and curtsied to both of them. She was not like any of the servants Onie had seen at the Palace, where there were servants for all sorts of specific tasks, messaging, cleaning rooms, cooking, moving furniture, bringing food, tending gardens. Frena seemed to do a little of everything, cleaning the house, sweeping the yard of the last fallen leaves of the season, helping the cook. She always wore the same plain brown work dress, a dark cloak if she was working outside and no fancy highborn colors, even when she greeted guests. She worked hard, but Onie did not think that she had been a servant for very long.

Frena also had a son, Reed, about the same age as Onie's nephew, who shared the same room with his mother in the attic; he helped out in the kitchen and yard. Nothing had been said, but Onie suspected that Reed was as fatherless as her nephew.

With Lillis properly taken care of, Frena preceded Onie to the house and opened the door for her.

"Onie, I'm so happy to see you." Lady Delias came down the entry hall, wiping her hands on a cloth. She wore a plain, gray dress, flattering on her slim figure, but it was more work dress than something a fine lady would wear. Her sleeves were pushed up past the elbows, revealing slender, but firmly muscled arms. Another unique thing about Munthunt house was that the Lady of the house shared in the chores of maintaining it. Chellie had said that everyone in Lord Drogon's household worked, but she had not expected that rule to extend to the privileged family. It was likely one reason why Lady Delias only had one maid and one cook.

Delias put the cloth aside, pushed her sleeves down and formally hugged her with as little physical contact as possible for an embrace. Onie returned it.

Delias was always polite but cautious with her on these visits, as if she did not really trust her. She was very protective of Chellie, but she sometimes acted as if they were competing for Chellie's attention. She asked casual questions as if she was fishing for information, especially about Mec and Sami, but acted as if she did not care what the answers might be. And she never really answered any personal questions about herself. She was both fearful and sly, but Onie had yet to puzzle out what about. Onie was equally guarded when she said anything about her sister and nephew.

"Ye gets tha message from Healer Luba 'bout Chellie stayin' at tha House'a'Healin'?"

Delias' formal smile fell from her face.

"Yes. I'm sorry she can't join us tonight. Healer Luba said that they were testing stronger herbs for her."

"Aye." Onie hoped that Delias would say or ask something, but she did not. "Healer Luba, she asks me ta talk ta ye 'bout how Chellie's doin'."

"Really?" They stood facing each other in the hall and Delias finally seemed to notice and she gestured for them to go into the sitting room in the front of the house. Like the rest of Munthunt House, it was remarkably simple compared to the usual expectations of a highborne's home.

Lord Drogon's man, who had stayed in the house before Delias, had not taken care of it and she was slowly having everything fixed. The worst had been the roof and a broken back window covered with oiled leather. Once the serious maintenance was done and the worn and broken furniture taken away, Delias then installed the minimum amount of replacements that each room needed. The tables and chairs were solid, blocky dark wood. The rugs were all single colors and the walls were hung with plain cloth to stifle drafts, not proper tapestries at all. The candleholders were plain wood and metal and there were no decorations, no vases, no mirrors, no coats of arms, no paintings, no displays of any kind. The rooms were spacious enough for a noble house, but they felt barren, as if they were just there to been seen, not lived in. Delias always seemed to be pleased with how simple and clean they were.

"What did Luba wish you to talk to me about?" she asked when she was seated in a chair and Onie had settled on a well-padded divan.

"Chellie's been after the Healers ta make'er inta as much of a woman as they can. She wants'em ta geld'er. An tha Healer's don' want ta do it. Say she's too young ta know what it means."

Delias's face turned sad. "Yes, she has . . . . talked about it. She's very . . . concerned. She's terrified of turning into her father or older brother. She's never been happier than she is now and she does not want to lose that."

"Seems a bit of a harsh thing ta do. Cutting off'er man-parts. Luba wants'er ta think about fathering children, if she meets a woman she wants a family wit'. Cause if tha Healer's do it, can't be un-done. Luba asked me ta talk ta ye," Onie paused, her mention of Delias's own childless state going unsaid, "that you might get'er ta see how serious it would be."

Delias frowned, her back stiffening. "I think it is Luba who does not understand how serious it actually is."

"Aye?"

"Without any herbs at all, and if she takes after Kendron and her father - and she very likely would - Chellie could expect to be more than a head taller and broader in the shoulder with a full beard and hair on her chest and back in three summers. And losing the hair on her head before she reaches twenty."

"Oh," Onie suddenly saw the reason for Chellie's desperate plea earlier in the day. "She wouldna like that." She doubted that any dress or primping could make the burly physique that Delias described feminine.

"And as far as children are concerned . . . . there aren't any herbs that the Healers have that could make Chellie - or me - bear a child. And I doubt she would ever want to sire a one on a woman the way a man does. If she wishes to mother a child at all."

"Don' think wees talked 'bout it afore." Onie thought back on the meals she had shared with Chellie and their occasional meetings around the Palace. Chellie had completely given up on her Collegium studies, but her seamstress apprenticeship with the hertasi couple who served the Tayledras Mages brought her to the Palace most days. Chellie was quite eager to acquire a skill that would enable her to never need to rely on her northern relatives again. That was the extent of Chellie's goals for her future that Onie knew of.

"Why did the Healers want you to talk to me about this?" Delias's tone turned accusing.

Sitting opposite her, Onie straightened. "On account I'm bein' guardian fer'er. Luba says I needs ta give permission fer'em ta geld'er. Thought you would get'er ta see sense 'bout what she's asking."

Delias brushed back a tendril of her long wavy red hair that had escaped the tie confining the rest of it. "The only sense I see is that if I were in her place, in a body that was turning into a man day by day and no one would help me, I would take a knife and do it myself. And leave it to the Healers to sew up the bleeding before I died."

Her tone made it absolutely clear that she meant it. The authority in her statement made it even more clear to Onie that Lady Delias knew how to do it, too. This was not the answer that Onie expected and she looked away first. It was getting dark outside, the winterized garden outside fading into gray.

"Have you talked to her about it?" Delias demanded. Of course, Onie had not.

"Have you?"

Delias puckered her lips. "Chellie has mentioned it to me, but . . . I did not give her an answer. You are right," she admitted, "it would be a desperate thing to do."

"Healer Luba thinks tha' Chellie is desperate. She says that's really why they want'ser ta stay at tha House-a-Healing tanight. Not just 'cause a tha new herbs."

"She said that?" Her face turned sad again. "All she wants is to be free. Free of being Kendron's little brother. Free of the body the gods cursed her with."

"How did ye find out?"

Delias looked back at Onie curiously.

"How did ye find out that Chellie was a girl? She tol' me that'er brother burned'er when she tol'im when she was jus' a little. An she didna tell na another person 'cause of it."

Delias smiled in remembrance. "I caught her trying on one of my gowns, twirling in my room when she should have been folding it and putting it away. She was terrified when she saw me; she was in tears. And then she was in tears when I told her I understood. I saw instantly how right it was." Her expression hardened as she looked back into the past. "I vowed on the Father Tree on my knees to her that I would never tell anyone else. And that I would use my position to get her away from Munthunt Hill as soon as I could. And I keep my vows," she added darkly before going on. "It was long past time I did anything of any worth. I was so happy when I got her sent to the Collegium. Haven is a much more forgiving place than Muntford for people like us. At worst, she could have run away."

"She was askin' 'bout Hawkbrothers when I meets'er first."

Delias nodded. "Yes, that was what we hoped could happen. That she could secure a place with them. They would understand. They are much freer of mind that most of Valdemar."

Onie's brow wrinkled. "Did ye think tha'tha Hawkbrothers could fix'er. Make'r inta a real girl?"

Delias looked up. "Did we . . . ? I don't know. I suppose . . . the stories about Mages turning men into women always sounded too fanciful to hope that they could be true. But I suppose . . . they could have better herbs than our Healers do." Her expression turned bitter. "They are so prideful about what they think they know."

Her face cleared. "Chellie said that you knew the Hawkbrothers. Could you ask them? If they have a better way than . . . cutting her?"

"Canna say I knows them too well. They jus' comes ta me wit' some of their magics tha' don' work on me and they goes away again. But I knows'em well enough ta ask."

"Thank-you," she answered with genuine gratitude. "Chellie told me that magic doesn't work on you. That that was your Gift."

Onie shrugged. "Don' feel like too much'uv'a Gift, but tha's what tha Mages say."

Delias asked more about her Ground Gift. She became noticeably less guarded, as if Chellie's dilemma had created a bridge that the other woman could cross. She actually answered questions about her home and parents; they were much as Chellie had described but there was a fondness in her telling which was surprising given how severe her father's attitude toward her and Chellie was.

When it was nearly dark outside, Frena came in to close the heavy curtains against the cold and kindled the fire in the fireplace. Delias was stingy with her firewood. She did not seem to mind the cold, but they both moved closer to the warmth. They could smell the cooking from the kitchen. It was nearly time for dinner.

"Ye hav'na written back ta, Mec yet, hav' ye?"

The question froze Delias's smile on her face. Immediately she became more distant again.

"Uh, what was that?"

"Have ye written back ta Mec, yet? Got a letter ta'day from'er sayin' she was waitin'. She wann'ed ta hear from ye afore tellin' Ma and Pa 'bout Kendron bein' Sami's Pa."

"Your parents. Mec's parents . . . " She put her hand to her chest as the words trailed off. "I - I know I should have written. But I just do not know what to say. I was so glad to hear that she and Sami were well after all this time. She didn't say anything about . . . "

Onie stayed silent, not willing to help her out. Delias would not show Mec's letter to anyone; Mec had not hinted about what she had written. So, Onie had nothing to contribute and she was feeling a little offended for the sake of her older sister who was left waiting.

"I'll write back, right away," Delias finally affirmed. Onie only shrugged back. She knew that Kendron Jestron, Lord Drogon's heir, was her nephew's father. And that Lady Delias had tried to claim him as her son after Mec, who was working as a maid in their household, bore him in secret and then fled to keep him. Mec had confessed to Onie in an earlier letter that she had stayed silent because she was terrified that Lord Drogon would come after her with his men and take him away. Wanting to start a new life in Haven, she had never told anyone where she came from. And when she returned back home with a baby and no husband, she said nothing about Sami's father to preserve his anonymity, just in case word somehow got back to the north. If anyone knew that Sami was the son of a high borne, people would talk for sure.

"Right away," Delias repeated to herself more than to Onie.

A bell rang and Onie heard Frena running to the door to open it. A new strain pulled at Delias's smile.

"Ah, Onie, I invited a few guests for our dinner tonight."

It was more than a few extra guests that Delias had invited; it was a whole family. Four noisy children and their parents. They fidgeted into a line long enough to give Lady Delias proper bows and curtsies under their mother's strict supervision, then they were set loose in another room to play. Delias introduced their parents.

"This is Korey Mineeladath. And Ludi Mornlor."

Ludi, the mother, curtsied. She was a stout woman with dark red hair with a touch of gray at the temples; her dark blue dress was made of fine, smooth cloth with a few simple embroidered embellishments, but it was worn in a few places. Korey stepped forward with a broad smile and a handshake. Onie took the offered hand and returned the firm squeeze before releasing it.

Korey seemed genuinely friendly with a broad smile, short, thick blond hair and blue eyes. And though he was tall and square in the body and wore the clothes of a man well, he was clearly, phsycially a woman. But not in the way that Cook Tamira was, big and doughy and round with indeterminate features. Korey was both strongly woman and man at the same time, though it seemed that she presented herself as a man. Ludi and Korey were obviously a couple and Korey was the 'father' to the four children. This was the sort of family that Onie only heard about in the Bards' songs back in her small home town. But since coming to Haven last summer she had seen a lot of things that she had once thought she would only hear about in stories.

Besides, Onie liked Korey and Ludi immediately. Korey gave Delias a big hug and she returned it with a real smile, a rare true expression from the cautious Lady. Onie followed as they went through the rooms on the first floor, this time Delias narrating a more animated version of how she was having everything fixed. She actually opened a door to a room that Onie had never seen before, a small library, with a large, paned window and more empty shelves than books. Korey and Ludi offered advice and compliments and Onie learned more about them. Korey had served with Kendron in the Guards up north. And Delias had first met Kendron when she was living in the northern Guard camp at the same time as Korey and Kendron. Now Korey had settled down to city life with Ludi and was a sergeant with the Haven City Guards.

"You didn't know how Kendron and Delias met?" Korey looked surprised.

Onie shrugged. "Never come up."

A bell rang from the back of the house.

"Dinner!" Delias announced. A group cheer followed from the children who rushed to the dining room.

The food at Munthunt House was always basic and plain. Meat, vegetables and roots, bitter herbs, coarse bread and butter. Water and the most watered-down wine. No desserts. Onie supposed the Healers would approve, but she was sure that she could do better with a wider range of spices and some dried fruits. The four children, hands and faces washed from a basin while their mother watched, needed extra warnings from their parents to finish their meals, which was obviously not what they were used to getting at home. But other than their lack of enthusiasm for the food, they seemed to be reasonably well-behaved though innocently inquisitive.

"Why can't Reed have dinner with us?" Drew, the youngest asked.

"Because he's helping his mother and Ressa in the kitchen, now eat your dinner," his mother warned.

Drew took a bite of the root on his fork and made a face. "Can't he do that after he has dinner with us?"

"No, his mother works for Lady Delias and it's not proper for her to eat with us. Now eat your food."

Korey had been looking around since he sat down at the table and finally asked, "Where's Chellie?"

"She's back with the Healers. They want to try different herbs on her."

"Is Chellie sick? Is she going to die?"

"Clora! Don't ask such demon-mouth things and eat your dinner!" This motherly admonishment seemed to finally get through and the children silently ate through Delias's explanation that Chellie was fine and would be home soon. Korey's eyes narrowed and he looked toward Onie and Delias before resuming his meal. It seemed likely that the Guard sergeant knew of Chellie's true condition.

It also seemed to Onie that Korey's state was very similar to Chellie's and opposite at the same time. He was female in body with a male attitude and Onie wondered if he was the right person for Chellie to get advice from. But she did not want to have to explain it to the four inquisitive children picking at their dinners with them.

Korey created the opportunity for a more private discussion about Chellie when he insisted on helping to clear the table before Frena came to do it. Delias jumped up to follow him with a few token dishes, leaving Ludi to herd the children to the front rooms. Onie picked up her plate and cup and went after them.

The dishes went on a side board; the kitchen was pleasantly warm from the cook fires and Delias did not seem to be stingy with heating water for the cleaning. Frena and Ressa only glanced their way before going back to their work, cook to the basin of cookware and dishes, maid to the dining room to collect the rest of the dishes. Reed was not with them, but he could have gone up the back stair to the attic.

Delias glanced her way as she passed through a doorway into another back room. When Onie joined them she saw that it was an herb-scented storage room lined with shelves of supplies and lit by a single lamp hanging on a hook. Delias and Koreys' faces looked especially grave in the shadowy lighting. Delias explained to Korey the full reason why Chellie was staying at the House of Healing.

He bowed his blonde head and listened, not speaking until Delias finished.

"So, Chellie wants to make her womanhood permanent?"

Delias nodded. "Yes. And Onie here said that the Healers thought she was desperate. That's the real reason why they want her to stay with them."

"And you have to give permission?" Korey's pale face was shadowed in the lamplight.

"Aye. Tha Healers been tryin' ta talk'er out'a it. But she jus' wants'it more."

Korey appraised them thoughtfully.

"Have either of you had a talk with Chellie about it? Not just leaving it to the Healers?"

Onie shook her head. "Didna know she wanted it this bad 'til taday. Thought she'd have more time on it."

"We've talked a bit." Delias answered. "She's constantly checking her body for signs. Fretting over every new hair. I've just been telling her to talk to the Healers. They know far more about what can be done than I."

He frowned at her. "I thought you had learned to listen better by now, Deel."

She gave him a cross glare. "I can't 'listen' to anything that she doesn't say - - -"

Korey held his hands up, "I did not come to argue. Chellie needs help. From the Healers and from you two. And I think you should start by having a long talk together."

"Why don't you talk to her? Her situation isn't that different from yours."

Korey's eyes glared back at Delias, but he kept his tone calm and level. "My situation is as different from hers as the sun is from the moon. But . . . " he lowered his eyes thoughtfully, " . . . we do have some things in common."

"It's a pity we can't get a Mage to switch your body with Chellie's," Delias suggested tartly, "that would solve a lot of problems."

"No, it would not. Not even in jest, Deel."

The angry tone in the City Guard's voice made Lady Delias back up a pace.

"Most magic is just illusion, especially now and even if they could do any of the old magics from before the Mage Storms I wouldn't trust it not to have a hidden price worse than what we start with."

Delias looked properly chastened. But talk of magic reminded Onie of something.

"We'as wonderin' if tha Hawkbrothers might'ave somethin' tha' could help Chellie. Better herbs ta kin keep'er from growin' inta a man?"

Korey shook his head. "The Healers and the Hawkbrothers have shared all their herblore as far as I know, but I suppose it won't hurt to ask. I'll talk to Chellie, but only with you two." He pointed at Onie. "You have to make the decision with Chellie. And you - -," she pointed to Delias, " - - have to help her and support her in whatever decision she makes. But it has to be soon. Tomorrow."

Onie winced. "I gots classes all day t'morrow, and chores in tha kitchen."

"You can take some time - - "

Korey cut off Delias again with a gesture. "I know what kind of schedule they put Hearld-Trainees on. When is the earliest you can you come by the House of Healing?"

"After I's help clean up after dinner."

Korey nodded. "I'll talk to the Healers. I think they can allow a late visit. Go to the House of Healing tomorrow night as soon as you can." He pointed at Delias. "We will talk to Chellie tomorrow morning. I'll come here and we'll go together."

Delias's blue eyes were stormy gray with defiance in the yellow lamp light, but she nodded, accepting Korey's commands.

- - - End Part 2