Bound by Blood and Sand
Page 6
But here Aredann was, and here Elan was, too. They were both out of favor with his father, and Elthis rarely forgave. He certainly never forgot, and his respect, hard enough to earn in the first place, was all but impossible to win back after it was lost. So while Aredann turned to dust, Elan would spend years struggling to prove that he deserved the grand warden title he’d so nearly lost. Unless, somehow, he could prove he deserved it while he was here.
If Aredann was a signpost, the last reservoir before the Well, then maybe, hidden somewhere in this forgotten, desolate estate, there was a map or a clue or a key to finding the location of the Well itself. If there was, and if Elan could find it, that would be a service to his father large enough that all of his misdeeds would be forgiven. His father would accept him back with open arms, would trust him the way he trusted Elan’s older sister and so few others.
Elan wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would be easy, but if there was a secret hidden at Aredann, he was determined to be the one who uncovered it at last.
—
Much like Lady Shirrad’s chamber, the room where they were dining had high ceilings and enormous windows, but that was where its grandeur ended. Low shelves had been built between the windows, stacked with books and a few decorative mugs and plates. There were some large, faded mosaics hung higher up, but the cushions around the table were plain and, frankly, didn’t look particularly comfortable.
Not that it mattered. Elan still settled himself on one, cross-legged in front of the low stone table, as a servant brought in their meal. He didn’t expect much, but was pleasantly surprised by the smell and then the sight of the meal: a well-baked bread with herbs, cheese, and even goat meat. He hadn’t thought there was enough cultivated ground out here to keep animals, and this was much, much better than he’d expected from such a water-poor estate as Aredann.
Lady Shirrad watched him nervously as he ate, waiting for some kind of reaction. He smiled, nodding to her. “Delicious, especially after days of eating while traveling.”
“I’m so glad you like it,” she said, smiling too hard.
Desinn was watching for her reaction, too, even as he ate. He didn’t seem particularly appreciative of the meal, though it must have taken a great deal of time to prepare.
But that was why, Elan realized. As Desinn had warned him, Shirrad knew full well why Elan was visiting, and what that would mean for her future. When Aredann was abandoned, Shirrad would lose her standing as guardian. Her only hope was to be given a decent new title by Elan’s father—and a good word from Elan would smooth that along.
No wonder Desinn didn’t seem impressed. The play for their favor was obvious. But while Desinn sneered, Elan smiled. Desinn had nothing to lose if he was obvious about his disdain, but Elan wanted Shirrad’s help, and he didn’t want Desinn to know about it. So let Desinn be rude, and let Shirrad resent him for it. That would make it even easier for Elan to ply her.
He changed the subject from the meal. “Aredann has been beautifully kept—I could swear mages still walk the halls.”
Shirrad tittered nervously. “Well, we do try, Highest. I know it’s only a small estate, but I take my duties to it very seriously.”
“And it shows. Don’t you think, Lord Desinn?”
Desinn shot him a sharp look, but said, “Of course. It’s as nice as one could expect, being so far away from civilization.”
Lady Shirrad giggled again, as if it had been a joke and not an insult.
Elan took another few bites, then changed the subject again. “I hope you won’t think this question is too rude, Lady, but until we arrived, I expected you to be…older. How did you come to be in charge here so young?”
Lady Shirrad’s smile faltered for a heartbeat. When she began to talk, her voice was still light, but the bright tone rang false. “My mother died in childbirth. And my father, several years ago, he…I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Highest. My father was always very strange, and…I suppose my family has always been strange, but…”
Elan nodded. The current Aredann family had been installed here years ago—as a punishment. Shirrad’s great-grandfather had angered Elan’s grandmother but hadn’t directly challenged the Highest’s rule, so he couldn’t be disavowed. Instead, Elan’s grandmother had sent him to rule Aredann. True, being made a guardian was supposed to be an honor—but serving as guardian of an estate as removed as Aredann had meant the family had rarely been seen in the central cities again.
“When the drought started to become noticeable, several years ago, my father was convinced there was something wrong with the Well. I know that’s impossible,” she said, hands folded on the table, the meal forgotten. “I know your family would never allow that to happen. It’s a drought, that’s all; even the Highest can’t control that.”
“Of course,” Elan said, glancing at Desinn, whose expression was unreadable. The four Highest families had crafted the Well and protected the magic that kept water flowing from the Well to the reservoirs. Without the Well, the world would be lost, but it wasn’t only the drought that was a problem. There were simply too many people in the world now, thousands and thousands more than the original Highest had intended the Well to provide for.
To protect the world as it was now, the Highest had decided to abandon outlying estates like Aredann. With people gone from them, the Well’s water could be diverted back to larger reservoirs, areas that needed the water more. Changing the way the water flowed was a huge work of magic, which was why the Highest only did it in dire emergencies, but now it was necessary.
It was a brutal solution that left estates to be buried in the desert, and none of the Avowed who had stood as estate guardians and stewards had been happy about the relocation. Elan had sympathized with them—more than he should have. No one was allowed to question the Highest about the Well, not even their own families. Their decisions may have been cruel, but the Highest only ever acted to keep order and protect the Well. Kindness was a gesture they couldn’t often afford.
“He thought he could find the Well himself,” Shirrad continued. “He took a search party into the desert, but…there was a sandstorm. It was enormous enough that we felt it, even here. Half our crops were buried, unsalvageable. And my father, he…he was lost.”
“I’m so sorry, Lady,” Elan said. “How old were you?”
If Aredann was a signpost, the last reservoir before the Well, then maybe, hidden somewhere in this forgotten, desolate estate, there was a map or a clue or a key to finding the location of the Well itself. If there was, and if Elan could find it, that would be a service to his father large enough that all of his misdeeds would be forgiven. His father would accept him back with open arms, would trust him the way he trusted Elan’s older sister and so few others.
Elan wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would be easy, but if there was a secret hidden at Aredann, he was determined to be the one who uncovered it at last.
—
Much like Lady Shirrad’s chamber, the room where they were dining had high ceilings and enormous windows, but that was where its grandeur ended. Low shelves had been built between the windows, stacked with books and a few decorative mugs and plates. There were some large, faded mosaics hung higher up, but the cushions around the table were plain and, frankly, didn’t look particularly comfortable.
Not that it mattered. Elan still settled himself on one, cross-legged in front of the low stone table, as a servant brought in their meal. He didn’t expect much, but was pleasantly surprised by the smell and then the sight of the meal: a well-baked bread with herbs, cheese, and even goat meat. He hadn’t thought there was enough cultivated ground out here to keep animals, and this was much, much better than he’d expected from such a water-poor estate as Aredann.
Lady Shirrad watched him nervously as he ate, waiting for some kind of reaction. He smiled, nodding to her. “Delicious, especially after days of eating while traveling.”
“I’m so glad you like it,” she said, smiling too hard.
Desinn was watching for her reaction, too, even as he ate. He didn’t seem particularly appreciative of the meal, though it must have taken a great deal of time to prepare.
But that was why, Elan realized. As Desinn had warned him, Shirrad knew full well why Elan was visiting, and what that would mean for her future. When Aredann was abandoned, Shirrad would lose her standing as guardian. Her only hope was to be given a decent new title by Elan’s father—and a good word from Elan would smooth that along.
No wonder Desinn didn’t seem impressed. The play for their favor was obvious. But while Desinn sneered, Elan smiled. Desinn had nothing to lose if he was obvious about his disdain, but Elan wanted Shirrad’s help, and he didn’t want Desinn to know about it. So let Desinn be rude, and let Shirrad resent him for it. That would make it even easier for Elan to ply her.
He changed the subject from the meal. “Aredann has been beautifully kept—I could swear mages still walk the halls.”
Shirrad tittered nervously. “Well, we do try, Highest. I know it’s only a small estate, but I take my duties to it very seriously.”
“And it shows. Don’t you think, Lord Desinn?”
Desinn shot him a sharp look, but said, “Of course. It’s as nice as one could expect, being so far away from civilization.”
Lady Shirrad giggled again, as if it had been a joke and not an insult.
Elan took another few bites, then changed the subject again. “I hope you won’t think this question is too rude, Lady, but until we arrived, I expected you to be…older. How did you come to be in charge here so young?”
Lady Shirrad’s smile faltered for a heartbeat. When she began to talk, her voice was still light, but the bright tone rang false. “My mother died in childbirth. And my father, several years ago, he…I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Highest. My father was always very strange, and…I suppose my family has always been strange, but…”
Elan nodded. The current Aredann family had been installed here years ago—as a punishment. Shirrad’s great-grandfather had angered Elan’s grandmother but hadn’t directly challenged the Highest’s rule, so he couldn’t be disavowed. Instead, Elan’s grandmother had sent him to rule Aredann. True, being made a guardian was supposed to be an honor—but serving as guardian of an estate as removed as Aredann had meant the family had rarely been seen in the central cities again.
“When the drought started to become noticeable, several years ago, my father was convinced there was something wrong with the Well. I know that’s impossible,” she said, hands folded on the table, the meal forgotten. “I know your family would never allow that to happen. It’s a drought, that’s all; even the Highest can’t control that.”
“Of course,” Elan said, glancing at Desinn, whose expression was unreadable. The four Highest families had crafted the Well and protected the magic that kept water flowing from the Well to the reservoirs. Without the Well, the world would be lost, but it wasn’t only the drought that was a problem. There were simply too many people in the world now, thousands and thousands more than the original Highest had intended the Well to provide for.
To protect the world as it was now, the Highest had decided to abandon outlying estates like Aredann. With people gone from them, the Well’s water could be diverted back to larger reservoirs, areas that needed the water more. Changing the way the water flowed was a huge work of magic, which was why the Highest only did it in dire emergencies, but now it was necessary.
It was a brutal solution that left estates to be buried in the desert, and none of the Avowed who had stood as estate guardians and stewards had been happy about the relocation. Elan had sympathized with them—more than he should have. No one was allowed to question the Highest about the Well, not even their own families. Their decisions may have been cruel, but the Highest only ever acted to keep order and protect the Well. Kindness was a gesture they couldn’t often afford.
“He thought he could find the Well himself,” Shirrad continued. “He took a search party into the desert, but…there was a sandstorm. It was enormous enough that we felt it, even here. Half our crops were buried, unsalvageable. And my father, he…he was lost.”
“I’m so sorry, Lady,” Elan said. “How old were you?”
