Sanfon Quintain paced back and forth in a dreary hallway of Quintain Estate. For the thousandth time, he wondered why he was not allowed to see his own son be born. He had mentioned this to his wife, Eliai, earlier that month.
"Are ye sure it shall be a boy?" she had asked in her quiet country way.
Sanfon had stared at her. "Of course, Eliai. Quintains always have sons. No girls, ever." The Quintain Nobility was classified as a lasoen Nobility: meaning that ever since the family had become a Nobility, they had all male descendants. (Lansoen was the Greaktet word for "honored son".) Sanfon's great-great-great-great grandfather had become the first in the Quintain Line; Sanfon was sure the all-male heritage would not stop with his child.
Just then, Sanfon heard a baby's cry. Moments later, a servant appeared, head bowed in respect. "Um, 'scuze me, Sir Sanfon, yer wife-"
Sanfon raced up the stone stairs and into the bedroom. Halting at the doorway, he almost jumped for joy as the fat midwife handed him a squalling bundle of blankets. "Yer son, Sir."
Sanfon looked down. The boy had the Quintain hooked nose, light blue eyes, and shock of straight blond hair. A Quintain to the core, he thought.
"Bring in Haram Jepelt," he told the midwife. She bowed low and went to fetch the Futurebringer, who determined the futures of children. Eliai's maidservant went to bring in fresh juniper logs for the fire;another put out the current fire and shoveled all the ashes out. The fireplace needed to be swiped clean of ordinary ashes for Haram to do his work.
The midwife returned, towing a lean, withering man in her wake. Haram sniffed wetly and held out his arms to Sanfon. Ever so gently, the baby was placed in the Futurebringer's arms. As servants lit the newly cut juniper logs, Haram produced a long metal pipe. He sat down on a small stool in front of the hearth and stuck the pipe in between the blazing, fragrant logs. As the midnight hour arrived, wisps of smoke curled out of the pipe end. Chanting in the language spoken by the gods, Greaktet, he sung prayers to the One God to guide the smoke from the pipe. Then followed a few hours of watching the smoke curl out in thin gray ribbons.
Finally, he turned to Sanfon. "His name is Naddr. His Godsign is the Swift Horse. He will grow to be a scholar. That is, of course, with the usual exceptions."
Sanfon was satisfied. A true Quintain, his son was! He wasn't worried about the "usual exceptions": the idea that his son could get killed or that he may do something to offend the One was preposterous. Nothing would stop Naddr from being a scholar. The name Naddr, meaning "dignified" in Greaktet, was also a suitable Quintain title. And the horse was the family animal. Sanfon believed that he could not have asked for a better son.
As he was accepting his pay, Haram stiffened. "My work is not done," he murmured.
Sanfon was about to ask what he meant when he heard a squalling cry, much louder than Naddr's had been. As he went to investigate, the midwife approached him. "Twins, mah lard."
Sanfon was surprised yet happy. Boy twins were considered good luck. "Well, bring him here! Let him meet his father and brother."
The midwife disappeared for several minutes, conferring in hushed tones with Eliai from the other room. Finally she brought out another bundle. Sanfon reached to receive his son.
He frowned when he got the blankets. Something was wrong. The boy had a small, curved nose. He also had, not the Quintain blond hair, but a patch of dark, dark brown curls. Sanfon looked into the boy's eyes and shuddered. They were a fierce, vivid green so bright it was almost unbelievable.
"Mah lard," The midwife drew back the blanket. ""Tis a girl."
The child was most definitely a girl. Sanfon reeled from the shock. Surely not. He could not be the one to break the Quintain line. Boy and girl pairs were considered extremely unlucky: One of them was destined to betray the other. This could not be happening.
But it was. Sanfon thrust the girl at the midwife. "Do something with it. Her."
"Sanfon, we need to keep her." Eliai had struggled in from the bedchamber. "She's my daughter."
"Oh-fine." Sanfon shoved the girl into Haram's arms. "Read her future, and be quick about it."
As the servants prepared the fireplace, Sanfon noticed that Haram would not meet the baby's eyes. He was about to question why when Haram thrust his pole into the flames and began praying. Yet as the smoke started to curl out, the incessant chanting stopped and the Futurebringer's face screwed up in confusion and concentration. After several minutes, he finally spoke.
"Her name is Kasandrei. Her Godsign is the Lone Wolf."
"Wait- if they are twins they should have the same Sign," Sanfon protested.
Haram shook his head. "Midnight hour today was the Sign Changing."
Sanfon shivered. No Quintain had ever had the Lone Wolf Sign, the warrior's sign. As for Kasandrei, it meant "fiery spirit" in Greaktet. "What about her future?" he asked tentatively.
Haram sighed. "It is muddled. I can barely see anything. Yet I know this girl has a fighting spirit. She is destined to make the stars shift one day."
"You mean- a priestess?" Sanfon asked eagerly.
"Sir Sanfon, stop making yourself believe! She is a warrior to the core. By the way," the Futurebringer added, "she had powerful magic. Great magic. It is a kind I have never experienced, not your normal everyday disappearing and healing and battlemagic and suchlike. Be careful with her." And with that the Futurebringer departed.
Sanfon stared into the eyes of his daughter, deep, neverending pools of bright, bright green. She stared back with such ferocity that it made Sanfon look away.
He wondered if he could change fate.
"Are ye sure it shall be a boy?" she had asked in her quiet country way.
Sanfon had stared at her. "Of course, Eliai. Quintains always have sons. No girls, ever." The Quintain Nobility was classified as a lasoen Nobility: meaning that ever since the family had become a Nobility, they had all male descendants. (Lansoen was the Greaktet word for "honored son".) Sanfon's great-great-great-great grandfather had become the first in the Quintain Line; Sanfon was sure the all-male heritage would not stop with his child.
Just then, Sanfon heard a baby's cry. Moments later, a servant appeared, head bowed in respect. "Um, 'scuze me, Sir Sanfon, yer wife-"
Sanfon raced up the stone stairs and into the bedroom. Halting at the doorway, he almost jumped for joy as the fat midwife handed him a squalling bundle of blankets. "Yer son, Sir."
Sanfon looked down. The boy had the Quintain hooked nose, light blue eyes, and shock of straight blond hair. A Quintain to the core, he thought.
"Bring in Haram Jepelt," he told the midwife. She bowed low and went to fetch the Futurebringer, who determined the futures of children. Eliai's maidservant went to bring in fresh juniper logs for the fire;another put out the current fire and shoveled all the ashes out. The fireplace needed to be swiped clean of ordinary ashes for Haram to do his work.
The midwife returned, towing a lean, withering man in her wake. Haram sniffed wetly and held out his arms to Sanfon. Ever so gently, the baby was placed in the Futurebringer's arms. As servants lit the newly cut juniper logs, Haram produced a long metal pipe. He sat down on a small stool in front of the hearth and stuck the pipe in between the blazing, fragrant logs. As the midnight hour arrived, wisps of smoke curled out of the pipe end. Chanting in the language spoken by the gods, Greaktet, he sung prayers to the One God to guide the smoke from the pipe. Then followed a few hours of watching the smoke curl out in thin gray ribbons.
Finally, he turned to Sanfon. "His name is Naddr. His Godsign is the Swift Horse. He will grow to be a scholar. That is, of course, with the usual exceptions."
Sanfon was satisfied. A true Quintain, his son was! He wasn't worried about the "usual exceptions": the idea that his son could get killed or that he may do something to offend the One was preposterous. Nothing would stop Naddr from being a scholar. The name Naddr, meaning "dignified" in Greaktet, was also a suitable Quintain title. And the horse was the family animal. Sanfon believed that he could not have asked for a better son.
As he was accepting his pay, Haram stiffened. "My work is not done," he murmured.
Sanfon was about to ask what he meant when he heard a squalling cry, much louder than Naddr's had been. As he went to investigate, the midwife approached him. "Twins, mah lard."
Sanfon was surprised yet happy. Boy twins were considered good luck. "Well, bring him here! Let him meet his father and brother."
The midwife disappeared for several minutes, conferring in hushed tones with Eliai from the other room. Finally she brought out another bundle. Sanfon reached to receive his son.
He frowned when he got the blankets. Something was wrong. The boy had a small, curved nose. He also had, not the Quintain blond hair, but a patch of dark, dark brown curls. Sanfon looked into the boy's eyes and shuddered. They were a fierce, vivid green so bright it was almost unbelievable.
"Mah lard," The midwife drew back the blanket. ""Tis a girl."
The child was most definitely a girl. Sanfon reeled from the shock. Surely not. He could not be the one to break the Quintain line. Boy and girl pairs were considered extremely unlucky: One of them was destined to betray the other. This could not be happening.
But it was. Sanfon thrust the girl at the midwife. "Do something with it. Her."
"Sanfon, we need to keep her." Eliai had struggled in from the bedchamber. "She's my daughter."
"Oh-fine." Sanfon shoved the girl into Haram's arms. "Read her future, and be quick about it."
As the servants prepared the fireplace, Sanfon noticed that Haram would not meet the baby's eyes. He was about to question why when Haram thrust his pole into the flames and began praying. Yet as the smoke started to curl out, the incessant chanting stopped and the Futurebringer's face screwed up in confusion and concentration. After several minutes, he finally spoke.
"Her name is Kasandrei. Her Godsign is the Lone Wolf."
"Wait- if they are twins they should have the same Sign," Sanfon protested.
Haram shook his head. "Midnight hour today was the Sign Changing."
Sanfon shivered. No Quintain had ever had the Lone Wolf Sign, the warrior's sign. As for Kasandrei, it meant "fiery spirit" in Greaktet. "What about her future?" he asked tentatively.
Haram sighed. "It is muddled. I can barely see anything. Yet I know this girl has a fighting spirit. She is destined to make the stars shift one day."
"You mean- a priestess?" Sanfon asked eagerly.
"Sir Sanfon, stop making yourself believe! She is a warrior to the core. By the way," the Futurebringer added, "she had powerful magic. Great magic. It is a kind I have never experienced, not your normal everyday disappearing and healing and battlemagic and suchlike. Be careful with her." And with that the Futurebringer departed.
Sanfon stared into the eyes of his daughter, deep, neverending pools of bright, bright green. She stared back with such ferocity that it made Sanfon look away.
He wondered if he could change fate.