Rohana saw Magda trembling, reached out and gently steadied her as she had done with Alida. She said, “Rest, my girl, that is strenuous work. Why did you not tell us you had laran?”
And Magda could only stammer, confused and dismayed, “I don’t even know what the word means!”
Chapter THIRTEEN
On the eve of midwinter-day, the long-delayed blizzard swept down from the Hellers, a thick white wilderness of snow and howling wind that effectively damped the preparations for the festival. The house-party guests had already arrived, but Lady Rohana told her guests, with some disappointment, that the usual festivities would have to be suspended. Normally, everyone who lived within a day’s ride would have visited Castle Ardais at some time during the day to share in the merrymaking there.
Magda expressed polite regrets for the spoiling of the holiday, but was herself secretly relieved not to have to face more strangers. She had no personal fear. Dora Gabriel would not make trouble for his wife’s guests, whoever they were; and the strong tradition of hospitality in the Hellers made it unlikely that they would meet with any personal unpleasantness. But it might well mean that other Terrans, after this, would be more carefully watched and restricted in their travel.
Lady Rohana had holiday gifts for them both: long riding-capes trimmed with fur. She also tactfully offered them garments more suitable for the festival, pointing out that they had only traveling clothes with them, and those much the worse for wear. Magda accepted with relief, Jaelle with a wry laugh. She said when Rohana had gone away, “My kinsman is cowardly, to make Rohana do his errands! Margali, you are a translator by trade; see if you can interpret this as I do! 1 may not have the words quite right, but the music is very clear, and the tune is something like this: ‘I refuse to have two Amazons in trousers at my banquet-table!'”
Magda politely refrained from comment on her host, but she felt Jaelle was probably right. Jaelle was up and around now, though until today confined to her room, but she was recovering so swiftly that Magda still doubted the evidence of her own eyes. But there it was before her: the healed scar on Jaelle’s collarbone, the red line-perceptible, and a little startling, but no longer disfiguring-across her cheek.
It makes Terran medical science look primitive! Magda thought.
But if it was psi force, what was the function of the blue jewel? Was it only a focus? Magda knew she would never rest till she knew the answer to these questions. The key seemed to be the strange word laran, which was colloquially translated as an art, skill, gift or talent; she surmised that a leronis was one who used laran, and that the meanings of “wise-woman” or “sorceress” were ancillary. Jaelle verified this guess, adding that laran meant an inborn gift for psi power, and that while she herself had a little of it, she had not wanted to be trained in its use. When Magda repeated Rohana’s remark-that she herself seemed to have laran-Jaelle shut up and could not be persuaded to say another word.
In midafternoon the promised festival dresses arrived, brought by one of Rohana’s women. Magda’s was a rust-colored gown with narrow sable fur trim, and trailing sleeves lined with golden silk; it was one of the prettiest dresses she had ever seen, and fitted her well enough. She felt a twinge of regret as she put it on and brushed her dark smooth hair, thinking of the silver butterfly-clasp that she would never wear again.
Jaelle said, “Among Terran women, is close-cropped hair thought a disgrace?”
“Oh, no. Most women in Empire service wear their hair little longer than men; but I have lived on Darkover most of my life, and kept mine long to be able to mingle unnoticed with women here, so I am accustomed to long hair,” Magda said. “I had half expected to be told that Amazons were not allowed to wear women’s dress! Is this simply a courtesy to dom Gabriel, then, Jaelle?”
Jaelle laughed merrily. She had put on the delicate green gown Rohana had sent her. She said that it had been made for her cousin, Rohana’s seventeen-year-old daughter, whose name was Elorie but who was usually called Lori. With a little pinning at the waist, it fitted Jaelle beautifully. As she brushed her own hair into a burnished coppery helmet and fastened it with a pair of gold bar-clasps from her saddlebags, she said, “Oh, no! Do you think we wear trousers compulsively, like men, you silly girl? We wear them when we have to ride, or work like men, but hi the Guild-house, or when working indoors, we wear whatever seems comfortable to us. We are not required to wear anything in particular; we simply refuse to accept the social rule that forbids women to wear any comfortable garment for reasons of modesty or custom. The only thing we may not wear-by our Charter-is a sword.” Again, she laughed. “Kindra chided me, now and then, that I spent so much of what I earned on finery; I probably have as many pretty gowns as Rohana, or more, because I need not account to anyone for what use I make of my money!”