The Lion of Farside by John Dalmas

“Professor Talbott tells me you’re descended from a Sisterhood breeding on one side.”

“On my Dad’s side, according to what my wife told me. And I guess on my Ma’s, too, because her dad was a cousin of my dad’s dad.”

“He also told me your wife is one of the Sisters, and considered you to have a latent talent for magic. A talent that hadn’t shown itself to you.”

“Actually I guess it had. Only I hadn’t recognized what it was—what was going on with me.”

Hauser regarded him for a moment, then turned and gave the shaman a résumé before asking Macurdy what, specifically, those experiences had been. Macurdy told him of seeing Liiset in the corner of the ceiling, and finding the pictures in the attic. And finally of looking at Talbott and seeing a younger version in brown tweed, wearing a green bow tie.

Hauser nodded thoughtfully. “Green leather. It was probably the only tie he owned.”

He and the shaman talked for two or three minutes then, Macurdy watching with no emotion stronger than interest. Finally Hauser turned to him again. “How did it happen that this Sister went to Farside and married into your family?”

Macurdy told him that, too, Hauser recapitulating it for the shaman. When he was done, the shaman gave what seemed to be instructions again. Finally Hauser turned back to Macurdy. “You’re to go to Professor Talbott’s hut now, get whatever you have there, and come back. A guard will go with you. You’ll live here for now, but work for the village, as you’ve been doing. Only you’ll get off early, and I’ll teach you the language, and other things you need to know.

“My master’s name is Arbel. From time to time he’ll test you. And if things go well, especially if you learn to speak Yuultal well enough, he’ll teach you things a shaman needs to know. No one else in the village has shown talent enough for him; he has high standards. And there are precedents for slaves being trained as shamans.”

Hauser paused, still gazing at Macurdy, who said nothing. “He says he can see why your wife chose you. He says your aura . . .”

“What’s an aura?”

Hauser grunted. “It’s apparently like a halo, but around the body as well as the head. Maybe stronger around the head, though.” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen one myself. Anyway, each person’s is different, and Arbel can tell a lot about you by examining it.

“Better get moving. He’s a good boss, but he doesn’t put up with standing around when he’s given you something to do.”

Macurdy returned to Talbott’s hut, got his sheepskin jacket and holstered pistol. Talbott was there; his back had gotten worse, and he hadn’t been sent out that day. As he rose painfully from the bench, his expression reflected both pleasure and regret. “I knew Charles would tell the shaman about you,” he said.

Macurdy shook hands with him. “If I can get permission,” he told the old man, “I’ll come visit you.” But as he said it, it seemed to him this was the last time he’d see Talbott.

“Please do,” Talbott said. “It’s meant a lot to me to have you here this little while.”

Macurdy was given a clean straw-filled bed sack, and slept in the workshop with Hauser. The next morning, Hauser, as interpreter, accompanied him to muster at the slave compound. There Macurdy was given an ax, taken to work by himself in the forest, and put to cutting wood: fence rails, fuelwood, and logs from which planks and roof boards could be split. Whatever was assigned. Hauser told him the local words for the different products, and had him repeat them several times. The overseer or his assistant would stop by to tell him when to return home to the shaman’s, and to inspect his work for the day. If his production was inadequate in quantity or quality, he’d be beaten. Meanwhile he would not eat lunch with the other slaves—that would take him away from his own work—but would carry one from the shaman’s.

The overseer looked Macurdy over for a minute, then gave him a warning through Hauser. “Don’t take liberties with me. It will go ill with you. And if you try to run away, your death will be slow and painful.”

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