“I’m not too young to help you. You know why the academy is feared. It may upset the smooth running of life. But you tell us that knowledge will contribute to a general good, isn’t that right?”
He regarded her half-smilingly, half-mockingly, and she thought, gazing back into his eyes, Yes, I understand how Oyre feels about you. She assented with an inclination of her head, smiling in return.
“Then you need to prove your case.”
She raised a fine eyebrow and said nothing. He lifted his hand and uncurled his dirty fingers before her eyes. In his palm lay the ears of two grasses, one with seeds arranged in delicate bells, the other shaped like a miniature teazle.
“Well, ma’am, can the academy pronounce upon these, and name them?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “They are oats and rye, aren’t they?” She searched in her mental store of folk wisdom. “They were once a part of—farming.”
“I picked them beside the broken village, growing wild. There may have been fields of them once—before your catastrophe… . There are other strange plants, too, climbing against the ruins in sheltered spots. You can make good bread with these grains. Deer like them—when the grazing’s good, the does will choose the oats and leave the rye.”
As he transferred the green things to her hands, she felt the rasp of the rye’s beard against her skin. “So why did you bring them to me?”
“Make us better bread. You have a way with loaves. Improve the bread. Prove to everyone that knowledge contributes to the general good. Then the ban on the academy will be lifted.”
“You are very thoughtful,” she said. “A special person.”
The praise embarrassed him. “Oh, many plants are springing up in the wilderness which can be used to benefit us.”
As he made to go, she said, “Oyre is very moody nowadays. What is troubling her?”
“You are wise—I thought you would know.”
Clutching the green seeds, she hitched her skins about her body and said warmly, “Come and talk to me more often. Don’t disregard my love for you.”
He smiled awkwardly and turned away. He was unable to express to Shay Tal or anyone else how witnessing the murder of Nahkri had clouded his life. Fools though they were, Nahkri and Klils were his uncles and had enjoyed life. The horror would not go away, though two years had passed. He also guessed that the difficulties he experienced with Oyre were part of the same involvement. Towards Aoz Roon, his feelings were now intensely ambivalent. The murder estranged his powerful protector even from his own daughter.
His silence since the deaths implicated him in Aoz Roon’s guilt. He had become almost as speechless as Dathka. Once he had fared forth on his solitary expeditions out of high spirits and a sense of adventure, now sorrow and unease drove him forth.
“Laintal Ay!” He turned at Shay Tal’s call.
“Come along and sit with me until Vry returns.”
The summons pleased and shamed him. He went quickly with her into her old rough refuge above the pigs, hoping none of his hunter friends saw him go. After the cold outside, its fug made him sleepy. Shay Tal’s furfuraceous old mother sat in a corner against the garderobe, droppings from which fell immediately to the animals below. The Hour-Whistler sounded the hour; darkness was already gathering in the room.
Laintal Ay greeted the old woman and sat himself down on skins beside Shay Tal.
“We’ll collect more seed and plant little fields of rye and oats,” she said. He knew by her tone she was pleased.
After a while, Vry returned with another woman, Amin Lim, a plump, motherly young woman who had appointed herself Shay Tal’s chief follower. Amin Lim went straight to the rear wall of the room, sitting cross-legged with her back to the stonework; she wished only to listen, and to be within sight of Shay Tal.
Vry was also self-effacing. She was of comparatively slight build. Her breasts scarcely made more show under her silver-grey furs than two onions would have done. Her face was narrow, but not without its good looks, because her eyes were deep-set and brilliant against the pale skin. Not for the first time, Laintal Ay thought that Vry bore a resemblance to Dathka; perhaps that accounted for Dathka’s attraction to her.