Chapter 35: Letters and Law

I woke to find Baia sitting beside me on the narrow bed, holding an elaborately carved and painted hornbook on her lap as she worried through the alphabet, her lips moving as she pronounced the letters to herself. Batina was right beside her, likewise learning her letters. In the dim light of late afternoon, she looked like a round-faced version of her mother, and a sweeter nursemaid I could not imagine.

"Good morn, Lady Baia," I said after watching her for a while.

She turned, and in a motion copied from her mother, felt my forehead for fever. "It's past lunch now, almost tea. We missed you and Belana."

"I missed you. And my pillow. We were gone far longer than we planned."

"Do your feet hurt? Papa said you had to ride Ko home."

"They do and I did. It wasn't nearly as enjoyable as riding Phillip."

"Do you want coffee?"

"Always."

She giggled at my serious tone and left, returning in a few moments to report, "Mama is making some."

"Thank you." I struggled to sit up. "What are you reading?"

She held out the hornbook to me. "Mama says we're to have that pretty Nymph for a teacher, so I have to learn my letters. I know some of them, but not all. I can spell my name, but all my letters come early. The ones at the end . . ." She shook her head as if discouraged by the latter half of the alphabet.

I smiled. "Shall I teach you a song to learn them all? It's a song from Spare Oom."

Narnian to the core, she would not turn down an opportunity to learn a new song, especially seeing as how her forefathers had literally been sung into being. Baia never hesitated, but climbed up beside me and, clutching her doll close, said, "Yes."

So it was Bly came in a little later with a cup of coffee and cinnamon toast to find us singing the alphabet to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. Baia pointed to each letter as we repeated the song time and again until she could remember the simple tune, giggling at the rapid cascade between 'L' and 'P'. Bly listened in quiet delight as her daughter proudly gave each letter on the hornbook its proper name, and the look she gave me was one of pure gratitude. Baia was almost bouncing on the pallet, she was so pleased with herself.

"Mama, the song is from Spare Oom! And I know it now! I can say the alphabet!"

"Is it now? I heard you singing and you sound very clever with your letters! You must sing it for Papa later. Why don't you go find Bob and teach him the tune?" suggested Bly, setting food and drink at my bedside. "You can tell him Edmund taught it you."

Baia thought this was quite a fine idea, and gathering up Batina, hurried off, still singing as she skipped through the cottage. Bly looked to me. "Thank you. She has been struggling and that's the first I've heard her say the alphabet through without pause."

I smiled at a solution so simple. "She's a quick student."

"When music is involved, aye." Bly left and returned with little Brennan, well swaddled and wrapped in blankets. She set him beside me. "Watch the babe a spell, will you, Edmund? Brickit asked to be told when you woke, and I have to fetch Belana so we may change your bandages."

Luckily for me, Brennan was soundly asleep and stayed that way while his mother was out in the smithy. I gingerly ate and drank, staring at the baby all the while as if the crunch of toast would rouse him or he was somehow going to escape on me. I have no idea of what I would have done had he cried. Brickit entered the little room a few minutes later, smelling of smoke and burnt metal and amused to see me intimidated by a babe just a few months in this world. He refilled my coffee cup and got some for himself as he sat on the small trunk at the foot of my bed.

"You're looking a sight better," he said after regarding me for a spell. He gestured. "It's the color. You had none yesterday."

"It's good to be home."

"Aye, and to have you home, believe it or no. Explaining to the Nancy how I misplaced a king was not a thing I was looking forward to."

"Worse yet, how you misplaced his brother."

"That, too."

"Did Belana pass on Biss' ultimatum for Clan Svarog?"

He paused, then said, "La. She gathered them all together last night and told them. They took it much as expected."

"How so?" I pressed.

"Boont's 'ha' was probably heard clear down to Anvard and she stormed out laughing. I'm taking that as her intent to remain."

"A reasonable assumption. What of Barrett?"

"Beal is making sure he packs his things and none of ours. I've given him a set of basic tools and supplies, enough to set him up in a shop if he chooses, seeing as how he'll have an endless supply of iron now, but the finer instruments for working jewelry and filigree and such will stay here. He's still a master smith, though it's been many a year since he's made a nail or arrowhead, he should have little trouble remembering and he shouldn't starve so long as he deals fairly. Young Brytt is packing, but reluctantly. In his case I think it's the food he'll miss as much as his friends."

"Understandable. What of Bort?"

"He asked for leave today and took himself for a walk."

"Oh, dear. That's deep thinking."

"'Tis a deep problem, not to be taken lightly."

"I'm familiar with the sensation." I shifted, fighting the urge to wince. My feet were starting to throb. "And Belana?"

Brickit sighed. "Her heart is broken and . . . there's naught I can do to help save wait until tomorrow to see the upshot."

"Tomorrow?" I puzzled, realizing I seemed to have lost track of a day amidst Painted Dogs and Fishing Cats and Beavers. "Dammit. Have any letters or messages arrived for me?"

"None today or while you were absent."

"If word comes from any quarter, I must get it immediately."

Knowing perfectly well I was up to something good, Brickit nodded. "Aye, lad, we'll see to it." He looked up as he heard the cottage door open. "Now here are the ladies. Let them tend to you."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

There was tension in the air when I arrived in the longhouse with Brint and his family. I took careful survey of those assembled after Brint helped me to my seat. Barrett was not present, nor was Bort. Brytt seemed mortally depressed and consoled himself with small beer. Boont took her seat without comment, clearly refusing to be affected. I did not see Belana, but I could hear her in the kitchen. She sounded snappish, but I could not blame her.

Baia, I was happy to see, had not been idle. New songs always being welcome in Narnia, she seemed to have taught everyone under the age of ten and more than a few well over that how to sing the alphabet, because I heard it at least four times before dinner from different points about the room. She and Brack sang together for their father, and I could not suppress a smile at her pride and Brint's when she knew the alphabet better than her brother.

The children seemed to be the only bit of cheer in the room. Biss' conduct affected everyone. Many of my Dwarfs had cousins at Moonspring, and the Dwarfs representing Clan Svarog were, if not well liked, highly valued for their skills. There was little talk, and that in low tones, so the quiet was very much at odds with the usual din.

We dined on winter vegetable stew, potatoes, and fiddleheads seared with garlic and pepper. Gran smacked me down to keep me from rising as I usually did to take my food from her. She knew the condition of my feet better than I did. Belana paused as she set Brickit's plate before him, and he covered her hand with his own. I saw the look that passed between them, and I could tell she had been crying. She pressed his hand in response to his unspoken concern, then pulled away. Brickit sighed, and slowly ate in silence.

I felt a twinge of anxiety for not having heard back from Cheroom. Granted it was only a handful of days since I had sent Muscat and her cronies to Cair Paravel, but I needed an immediate answer. Midway through the plate of stew, I stopped eating, lost in thought until Gran gave me a nudge. Food was not to be wasted, and so I continued, only to pause again.

"Brickit, Gran, as clan chiefs, are you well versed in law and tradition?"

"I should hope," said Gran, answering for her son. "What would you know?"

"What is it that defines the chief of a Dwarf clan?"

"A very Edmund-ish query," observed Brickit, amused despite the gravity of the situation facing us. "Most commonly, chiefs are descended from the lines of the First Sons called into being by Aslan. It's not a requirement, but it is most common."

"What else?" I pressed.

"If not descended from the first lines, then descended from one who broke off and named themselves a new clan," Gran said. "Clan Sethlan of the Red Dwarfs is one such."

"Is their status held the same as those descended from the First Sons?"

"La," Brickit said easily. "A chief's a chief regardless and some clans are best discontinued."

"Can they be disbanded?" I wondered.

"Not externally. Some clans have died out for want of children. Clans Kothar and Ikenga of the Red Dwarfs and Clan Brigant of the Black ended during the course of the Winter. Any survivors would have been absorbed into other clans, either by marriage or adoption or accepting a new chief."

"You allow apprentices to retain their affiliation to their home clans. Why so?"

It was Gran who replied. "A tradition amongst Black Dwarf clans. Mostly so that if an apprenticeship doesn't work out well, we're not stuck with someone we can't abide."

"Aye, not so the Red clans. An apprentice must accept the clan, and the clan must accept the apprentice."

"Well, that explains everything about the Black and Red clans," I exclaimed, not about to pass by such an opportunity. "Small wonder they're better behaved and more polite."

"Timid, more like," corrected Brickit smugly, leaving me to shake my head and sigh.