"Elgin, Suzette Haden - Ozark Fantasy 01 - Twelve Fair Kingdoms" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elgin Suzette Haden)

CHAPTER 1

I SHOULD HAVB known that something was very wrong when

the Mules started flying erratically. I was misled a bit, I

suppose, because there were no actual crashes, just upset

stomachs. The ordinary person on the street blamed it on

turbulence; and considering what they understood of the way

me system worked, that was as reasonable a conclusion as any

other However, I had full access to classified material, and I

knew perfectly well that it was magic, not aerodynamics, that

kept the Mules flying. And magic at the level of skill necessary

to fly a bulky creature like a Mule was not likely to suffer any

because of a little disturbance in the air You take a look at a

Mule sometime; it surely isn't built for flight.

Even someone who's gone no farther in magic than Common

Sense Level knows that the harmony of the universe is a

mighty frail and delicately balanced equilibrium, and that you

can't go tampering with any part of it without affecting

everything else. A child knows that. So that when whatever-it-

was started, with its first symptoms being Mules that made

their riders throw up, I should of known that something sturdy

was tugging hard at the Universal Web.

2              SUZETIE HADEN ELGIN

I was busy, let's grant me that. I was occupied with the

upcoming Grand Jubilee of the Confederation of Continents.

Any meeting that it doesn't happen but once every five hundred

years—you tend to pay it considerable attention. One of our

freighters had had engine trouble off the coast of Oklahomah,

and that was interfering with our supply deliveries, I was trying

to run a sizable Castle with a staff that bordered, that spring, on

the mediocre, and trying to find fit replacements before the big

to-do. And there were three Grannys taken to their beds in my

kingdom, afflicted with what they claimed was epizootics and

what I knew was congenital cantankerousness, and that was

disrupting the regular conduct of everyday affairs more than

was convenient.

So ... faced with a lot of little crises and one on the way

to being a big one, what did I do?

Well, I went to some meetings. I went to half a dozen. I

fussed at the Castle staff, and I managed to get me in an

Economist who showed some promise of being able to make

the rest of them shape up. I hired a new Fiddler, and I bought a

whole team of speckledy Mules that I'd had my eye on for a

while. I visited the "ailing" Grannys, with a box of hard candy

for each, and paid them elaborate compliments that they saw

right through but enjoyed just the same. And I went to church.

I was in church the morning that Terrence Merryweather

McDaniels the 6th, firstborn son of Vine of Motley and

Halliday Joseph McDaniels the 14th, was kidnapped, right in

broad daylight . . . when the man came through me cnur-

chdoor on a scruffy rented Mule, right in the middle of a

Solemn Service—right in the middle, mind you, of aprayer!—

and rode that Mule straight down the aisle. He snatched

Terrence Menyweather in his sleeping basket from between his

parents, and be flew right up over the Reverend's head and out

through the only stained glass window he could count on to

iris—Mule, basket, blankets, baby, and all, before any of us

could do more than gape. February the 21st, that was; I was

there, and it was that humiliating, I'm not likely to forget it.

The McDaniels were guests of Castle Brightwalei; and under

our protection, and for sure should of been safe in our church.

And now here was their baby kidnapped!

Although it is possible that kidnapping may not be precisely

the word in this particular instance. You have a kidnapping,

Twelve Fair Kingdoms               3

generally there's somebody missing, and a ransom note, and

whatoot. In this case, the Reverend shouted an AAAAmen!

and we all rushed out the churchdoor; and there, hanging from

the highest of the three cedar trees in the churchyard in a life-

support bubble, was Terrence Menyweather McDaniels the

6th, sucking on his toe to show how undisturbed he was by it

all. And the Rent-a-Mule chewing on the crossclover against

me church wall, under the overhang. There was no sign of its

rider, who could make a claim to speed if to nothing else.

We could see the baby just fine, though we couldn't hear

him. And we knew he was safe in the bubble, and all his needs

attended to indefinitely. But he might as well of been in the

Wilderness Lands ofTinaseeh for all the good that did us—we

didn't dare touch him.

Oh, we had Magicians there skilled enough to put an end to

that bubble and float the baby down to his daddy's arms

without ruffling one bright red hair on his little head. If we

hadn't had them, we could of gotten them in a hurry. It wasn't

mat; it was a matter of diagnosis.

We had no way, you see, of knowing just what kind of magic

was on the forcefield holding mat bubble up in the tree and

keeping it active. Might of been no problem at all, just a bit of

Granny Magic. Ought to of been, if the man doing it couldn't

afford but a Rent-a-Mule. And then it might of been that the

mangy thing was meant to make us think that, and it might of

been that if we so much as jiggled that baby we'd blow the

whole churchyard—AND the baby—across the county line.

We're not much for taking chances with babies, I'm proud to

say, and we weren't about to be hasty. The way to do it was to

find the Magician that'd set the Spell, or whatever it was, and

make it clear that we intended to know, come hell or high

water, and keep on making it clear till we got told. Until then,

that baby would just have to stay in the cedar tree with the

squirrels and the chitterbirds and the yellowjays.

Vine of Motley carried on a good deal, doing her family no

credit at all, but she was only thirteen and it her first baby, and

allowances were made. Besides, I wasn't all that proud of my

own self and my own family at that moment.

Five suspicious continental delegations I had coming to

Castle Brightwater in less than three months, to celebrate the

Grand Jubilee of a confederation they didn't trust much more

4              SUZETTE HAPEN ELGIN

now than they had two hundred years ago. Every one of them

suspecting a plot behind every door and under every bedstead

and seeing Spells in die coffee cups and underneath their

saddles and, for all I knew, in their armpits. And I was

proposing that they'd all be safe here—when I couldn't keep

one little innocent pointy-headed baby safe in my own church

on a Solemn Day?

It strained the limits of me imagination somewhat more than

somewhat, and there was no way of keeping it quiet. They'd be

having picnics under the tree where that baby hung in his pretty

bubble and beaming the festivities out on the comsets before

suppertime, or my name wasn't Responsible of Brightwater

In the excitement we left the Solemn Service unfinished, and

it took three Spells and a Charm to clear that up later on, not to

mention the poor Reverend going through the service again to

an empty church reeking mightily of garlic and asafetida. But

the clear imperative right men was a family meeting; and we

moved in as orderly a fashion as was possible (given the

behavior of Vine of Motley) back to die Castle, where I turned

all the out-family over to the staff to feed and cosset and called

everyone else at once to the Meetingroom.

The table in the Meetingroom was dusty, and I distinctly saw

a spiderweb in a far window, giving me yet another clue to the

competency of my staff and strongly tempting me to waste a

Housekeeping Spell or two—which would of been most

unbecoming, but I never could abide dirt, eveh loose dirt—and

I waved everybody to their chairs. Which they took after

brushing more dust with great ostentation off the chair seats,

drat them all for their eagerness to dot every "i" and cross

every *'t" when it was my competence in question, and I called

the roll,

My mother was there, Thom of Guthrie, forty-four years old

and not looking more than thirty of those, which wasn't even

decent; I do not approve of my mother I said "Thom of

Guthrie" and she said "Here" and we left it at that. My uncles,

Donald Patrick Brightwater the 133rd—time we dropped that

name awhile, we'd wear it out—and Jubal Brooks Brightwater

the 31st. Jubal's wife, Emmalyn of Clark, poor puny thing, she

was there; and Donald's wife. Patience of dark, Emmalyn's

sistec And my grandmother, Ruth of Motley, not yet a Granny,

since Jonathan Cardwell Brightwater the 12th showed no signs

Twelve Fair Kingdoms               5

of leaving this worid for all he was 109 years old . . . and it

was said that he still troubled Ruth of Motley in the nights and

scandalized the servingmaids in the chamber next to theirs.

And I could believe it. We could of used him that day, since his

head was as clear as his body was said to be hearty, but he was

off somewhere trying to trade a set of Charms he'd worked out

for a single Spell he'd been wanting to get hold of at least the

last five years . . . and the lady that Spell belonged to not

about to pass it on to him, if he spent five more.

As it was, that meant only seven of us in Meeting, not nearly

enough for proper discussion or voting, and you would of

thought that on a Solemn Day, and with guests in the Castle,

tbere'd of been more of us in our proper places. I was put out

about the whole thing, and my mother did not scruple to point

that out.

"Mighty nervy of you. Responsible," she said, in that voice

of hers, "being cross with everybody else for what is plainly

your own fault." I could of said Yes-Motnei; since she despises

that, but I had more pressing matters to think of than annoying

my motheE She'd never make a Granny; she was too quick

with mat tongue and not able to put it under rein when the

circumstances called for it, and at her age she had no excuse.

She'd be a flippant wench at eighty-five, still stuck in her

magic at Common Sense Level, like a child. Lucky she was

that she was beautiful, since men have no more sense than to

be distracted by such things, and Thorn was that. She had the

Guthrie hah; masses of it, exactly the color of bittersweet

chocolate and so alive it clung to your fingers (and to

everything else, so that you spent half your life picking Guthrie

hair off of any surface you cared to examine, but we'll let that

pass). And she had the Guthrie bones ... a face shaped like

a heart, and great green eyes in it over cheekbones high arched

like the curve of a bird's wing flying, and the long throat that

melted into perfect shoulders. . . . And oh, those breasts of

hers! Three children she'd suckled till they walked, and those

breasts looked as maiden as mine. She was well named, was

Thorn of Guthrie, and many of us had felt the sharp point of

her since she stepped under the doorbeam of Castle Brightwa-

ter thirty-one years ago. I have always suspected that those

Guthrie bones made her womb an uncomfortable place to lie,

giving her a way to poke at you even before you first breathed

6              SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

the air of the world, but that's a speculation I've kept to myself.

I hope.

"Well, now that we're thoroughly disgraced in front of the

whole world," sighed my grandmother, "what do we propose

to do about it?"

"This is not the first manifestation of something cockeyed,"

said Jubal Brooks. "You know that. Responsible."

"There was the milk," my grandmother agreed. "Four

Mundy's in a row now it's been sour straight from the goat. I

assume you don't find that normal, granddaughter"

"And there was the thing with the mirrors," said Emmalyn.

"It frightened me, my mirror shattering in my hand like that."

I expect it did frighten her, too; everything else did. I was

hoping she wouldn't notice the spiderweb. She was a sorry

excuse for a woman; on the other hand, we couldn't of gotten

Patience of dark without taking the sistci; too, and all in all it

had been a bargain worth making.

Patience was sitting with her left little finger tapping her

bottom lip, a gesture she made when she was waiting for a hole

to come by in the conversation, and I turned to her and made

the hole.

"Patience, you wanted to say something?"

"I was thinking of the streetsigns," she said.

"The streetsigns?"

"Echo in here," said my mother, always useful.

"I'm sorry. Patience," I said. "I hadn't heard that there was

anything happening with streetsigns."

"All over the city," said my uncle Donald Patrick. "Don't

you pay any attention to anything?"

"Well? What's been happening to them? Floating in the air?

Whirling around? Exploding? What?"

Patience laughed softly, and the sun shone in through the

windows and made the spattering of freckles over the bridge of

her nose look like sprinkled brown sugar I was very fond of

Patience of dark.

"They read backwards," she said. "The sign that should say

'River Street' . . . it says'Teerts Revir'" She spelled it out

for me to make that deal; though the tongue does not bend too

badly to "Teerts Revir"

"Well, that." I said, "is downright silly."

Twelve Fair Kingdoms               7

"It's all silly," said Patience, "and that is why I was

laughing. It's all ridiculous."

Emmalyn, whose freckles just ran together and looked like

she hadn't bothered to wash, allowed as how she might very

well have been cut when her mirror shattered, and that was not

silly.

I looked at them all, and I waited. My uncles, pulling at their

short black beards the way men always do in meetings. My

mothel; trying to keep her mind—such as it was—on the

discussion. My grandmothel; just biding her time till she could

get back to her embroidery. And the sisters—Emmalyn

watching Patience, and Patience watching some inner source

of we-know-not-what that had served us very well in many a

crisis-

Not a one of them mentioned me Mules, though I gave them

two full minutes. And that meant one of three things: they had

not noticed the phenomenon, or they did not realize that it was

of any importance, or they had some reason for behaving as if

one of the first two were the case. I wondered, but I didn't have

time for finding out in any roundabout fashion.

"I agree," I said at once the two minutes were up, "it's all

silly. Even the minors. Not a soul was harmed by any one of

the mirrors that broke—including you, Emmalyn. Anybody

can smell soured milk quick enough not to drink it, and the

other six days of the week it's been fine. And as for the

streetsigns, which I'm embarrassed I didn't know about them

but there it is—I didn't—that's silliest of all."

"Just mischief," said Jubal, putting on the period. "Until

today."

My mother flared her perfect nostrils, like a high-bred Mule

but a lot more attractive. "What makes you think, Jubal

Brooks," she demanded, "that today's kidnapping—which is a

matter of major importance—is connected in any way with all

these baby tricks of milk and mirrors?"

"And streetsigns," said Emmalyn of Clark. Naturally.

"Jubal's quite right," I said, before Thorn of Guthrie could

mm on Emmalyn. "And I call for Council."

There was a silence that told me I'd reached them, and

Emmalyn looked thoroughly put out- Council meant there'd be

no jokes, and no family bickering, and no pause in deliberation

8              SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

for coffee or cakes or ak or anything else till a conclusion was

come to and a course agreed upon.

"Do you think that's really called for, Responsible?" asked

my grandmother. She was doing a large panel at that time,

mounungdoves in a field of violets, as I recall. Not that she'd

ever seen a moumingdove. "As Jubal said, it's been mischief

only so fax. and pretty piddling mischief at that. And there's no

evidence / see of a connection between what happened in

church today and all that other foolishness."

"Responsible sees a connection," said Patience, "or she

would not have called Council. And the calling is her privilege

by rule; I suggest we get on with it."

I told them about the Mules then, and both the uncles left off

their beard-pulling and gave me their attention. Tampering

with goats was one thing, tampering with Mules was quite

another: Not that they knew what it meant in terms of magic, of

course—that would not of been suitable, since neither had ever

shown the slightest talent for the profession, and I suppose they

took flying Mules for granted as they did flying birds. But they

had the male fondness for Mules, and they had anyone's dislike

for the idea of suddenly falling out of the air like a stone, which

is where they could see it might well lead.

"It has to do, I believe," said Patience slowly, "with the

Jubilee. That's coming up fast now, and anybody with the idea

of putting it in bad odor would have to get at it fairly soon and

move with some dispatch. I do believe that's what this is all

about."

She was right, but they'd listen better if she was doing the

talking, so I left it to hec

"Go on," I said. "Please."

"I'm telling you nothing you don't know already," she said.

"The Confederation of Continents is not popular, nor likely to

be, especially with the Kingdoms of Purdy, Guthrie, and

Farson. And Tinaseeh is in worse state. The Travellers hate any

kind of government; they are still so busy just hacking back the

Wilderness that they don't feel they can spare time for anything

else, and they for sure don't want the Jubilee. A Jubilee would

give a kind of endorsement to the Confederation, and they are

dead set against that. And then there're all the wishy-washy

ones waiting around to see which way the wind blows."

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              9

" 'A thing celebrated is a thing vindicated,'" quoted Ruth of

Motley. "They all know that as well as anybody."

"The idea," Patience went on, "would be to make it appear

that there's so much trouble on the continent of Maiktwain

... so much trouble in the Kingdom of Brighlwater specifi-

cally . . . that it would not really be safe for the other

Families to send their delegations to the Jubilee."

My conscience jabbed me, for she was right; and it had been

niggling at the back of my mind for some time. though I'd

managed to ignore it up to now by worrying about dust on the

banisters and coffee for deliveries for Mizzurah.

Donald Patrick scooted his chair back and stared at me, and

then scooted it up again, and said damnation to boot, and my

grandmother went "Ttch," with the tip of her tongue.

"Five years of work it's cost us," he said, glaring around the

table. "Five years to convince them even to let us schedule the

Jubilee! Surely all that work can't be set aside by some spoiled

milk and a few smashed mirrors!"

"Precisely," I said, flat as pondwater "And that is just the

point. You see, youall, how it will look? First, parlor tricks.

Then, a kind of tinkering—nothing serious, just tinkering—

with the Mules. And then, to show that what goes four steps

can go twelve, the baby-snatching. Again, you notice, without

any harm done."

"Aw," said Jubal, "it's just showing off. A display of power

Like throwing a dead goat into your well."

"That it is," I said. " 'See what we can do?' it says.

. . . 'And think what we might do, if we cared to.' That's the

message being spread here. Think the Wommacks will fly here

from the coast knowing their Mules may drop out from under

them any moment, to come to the support of our so-called

Confederation?"

"Disfederation," murmured Patience of dark. "A more

accurate term at this point."

"Patience," I said, "you hurt me."

"Howsomever and nevertheless," she said, "it's true. And

anything but a sure hand now will wreck it all."

We sat there silent, though Emmalyn fidgeted some, because

it wasn't anything to be serene about. Marktwain, Oklahomah,

and probably Mizzurah, agreed on the need for the Confedera-

tion of Continents; and their Kingdoms were willing to back it

19 SUZEITE HADEN ELGIN

as best they could. But the whole bulk of Aricansaw lay

between Marktwain and Mizzurah, and the Ocean of Storms

between all of us and either Kintucky or Tinaseeh; and the

three loyal continents all put together were not the size of

Tinaseeh. Since the day the Twelve Families first landed on this

planet in 2021, since the moment foot was set on this land and

it was named Ozark in the hope it would prove a homeworld to

our people, those of us who preferred not to remain trapped

forever in the twenty-first century had been in the minority.

The Twelve Families had seen, on Old Earth, what the

centralization of a government could mean. They had seen war

and waste and wickedness beyond-description, though the

descriptions handed down to us were enough to this day to

keep children in Granny Schools awake in the long nights of

winter, shivering more with nightmare than with the cold,

Twelve Kingdoms, we had. And at least four of them ready to

leap up every time a dirty puddle appeared on a street comer

and shout that this was but the first sign, the first step, toward

the wallowing in degradation that came when the individual

allowed theirselves to be swallowed up (they always said

"swallowed up," playing on the hatred every Ozarker had for

being closed in on any side, much less all of them) by a central

government. . . . And several more were in honesty uncom-

mitted, ready to move either way.

I ran them by in my mind, one by one. Castle Purdy, Castle

Guthrie, Castle Parson, Castle Traveller—dead set against the

Confederation and anxious to grab any opportunity to tear the

poor frail thing apart and go to isolation for everything but

trade and marriage. Castles Smith, Airy, dark, and

McDaniels, and Castles Lewis and Motley of Mizzurah, all

with us—but perhaps only Castle Airy really ready, or able, to

put any strength behind us. It was hard to know. When the

Confederation met at Castle Brightwater, one month now in

every four—to the bitter complaints of Purdy, Guthrie, Parson,

and Traveller about the expense and tile waste and the

frivolousness of it all—those six voted very carefully indeed.

That is, when we could manage to bring anything to a vote.

Only Castles Airy and Lewis had ever made a move that went

three points past neutrality, and that rarely. As for Castle

Wommack, who knew where they stood? One delegate they

sent to the meetings, grudgingly, against the other Castles'

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              11

delegations of four each and full staff; and the Wommack

delegate came without so much as a secretary or Attendant,

and spent most of his time abstaining. We were seven to five

for the Confederation—maybe. Maybe we were but two

against ten, with six of the ten playing lip service but ready to

bolt at me first sign of anything that smelled like real conflict.

My mother made a rare concession: she addressed me by

term of kinship.

"Daughter," she said, making me raise my eyebrows at the

unexpected mode of address, "what do you think we ought to

do?"

"Ask Jubal," said foolish Emmalyn, and I suppose Patience

kicked her, under the table. Patience always sat next to

Emmalyn for that specific purpose. Ask Jubal, indeed.

"Think now before you speak," said Ruth of Motley. "It

won't do to answer this carelessly and get caught out,

Responsible. You give it careful thought." She had finally

forgotten about her embroidery and joined us, and I was glad

of it.

"I think," I said slowly, "that things are not so far out of

hand that they cannot be stopped. Vine of Motley is crying

herself into hiccups up in the guestchambers at this very

moment, and no doubt feels herself mighty abused, but that

baby is safer where he is than in her arms. Signs and mirrors

and milk make no national catastrophe, and Mules that behave

like they'd been drinking bad whiskey are not yet a disaster

The point is to stop it now, before it goes one step further. The

next step might not be mischief."

"What is called foi," said'my grandmother; nodding her

head, "is a show of competence; that would serve the purpose.

Something that would demonstrate that the Brightwaters are

capable of keeping the delegations, and all their km, and all

their staffs, safe here for the Jubilee."

"I sometimes wonder if it's worth it," sighed Donald

Patrick. "I sometimes think it might be best to let them go on

and dissolve the Confederation and all be boones if that's their

determined mind! The energy we put into all this, the time. the

money. ... Do you know what Brightwater spent in food

and drink alone at the last quarterly meeting?"

"Donald Patrick Brightwalei," said Ruth of Motley in a

voice like the back of a hand, "you sound like a Purdy."

12

SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

"I beg your pardon, Mother," said my uncle. "I hadn't any

intention of doing so."

Strictly speaking, it was not fair for him to be rebuked. As

tile ordinary citizen was ignorant of what kept the Mules flying

in the absence even of wings, so was Donald Patrick ignorant

of the peril every Ozarker faced if we could not establish once

and for all a central government that could respond, and

respond with speed, in an emergency. The decision to maintain

that ignorance had been made deliberately, and for excellent

reasons, hundreds of years ago, when first the menace of the

Out-Cabal had been discovered by our Magicians. And that

decision would stand, for so long as it was possible, and for so

long as disputations in political science, and intercontinental

philosophy, and planetary ecology, and the formidable theory

of magic, could be substituted for a truth it had been sworn our

people would never have to learn.

"First," I said quickly, "there's finding out where this attack

is coming from. That's the easy part."

My mother crossed her long white hands over her breasts to

indicate her shock and informed us that/iw we had to get that

baby down out of that tree.

"Mother, dear Mothei," I said, "you know that's not so—

mat baby is all right. Unlike the rest of us, that baby is

protected from every known danger this planet can muster up.

Not so much as a bacterium can get through that bubble to

harm Terrence Merryweather McDaniels, and he will be tended

more carefully there than a king's son."

It was only a figure of speech; there were no kings in our

kingdoms and never had been, and therefore no king's sons.

When First Granny had stood on Ozark for the first time, her

feet to solid ground after all those weary years on The Ship,

she had looked around hei; drawn a long breath, and said,

"Well, the Kingdom's come at last, praise be!" and we'd had

"kingdoms" ever since for that reason alone. But it had the

necessary effect. Thom of Guthrie made a pretense of thinking

it over, but she knew I was right, and she nodded her lovely

head and agreed with me that the baby probably represented

the least of our problems. Except insofar as it stood for an

insult to our Family and our faith, of course (and it was at that

point that I realized the Solemn Service had been left

unfinished).

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              13

"I say call in the Magicians of Rank, then," said Jubal

Brooks, "and have them to find out which one of our eleven

loving groups of kindred has set itself to bring the Confedera-

tion down about our heads. Literally about our heads."

"No," I told him, hoping he was right that it was only one.

"No, Jubal Brooks, that's all wrong. It would maybe be

fastest, depending on the strength and number of the Magicians

ranged against ours, but it's all wrong as to form."

"I don't see it," he said.

"Asymbol," said Ruth of Motley, spelling it all out for him,

"is best answered by a symbol. Not by a . . . meat cleavec "

"And what symbol do we propose to offer up for this motley

collection—no ofiense meant. Mother—of shenanigans? Cross

our hearts and spit in the ocean under a full moon?"

"A Quest, I expect, Jubal," I said, straight out. I had been *

dunking while they were talking, and level for level, that

seemed right to me. And the women nodded all around the

table.

"In this day and age?" sputtered Donald Patrick, and threw

up his hands. "Do you realize the antiquated set of hidebound

conditions that go with mounting up a Quest? Responsible,

you can't be serious about this'"

"Well, it is fitting," said his mother saving me the trouble.

"As Responsible and Patience have pointed out, the entire

campaign against us to this- time has been a single symbol,

what would be referred to in classical terms as a Challenge.

OUR MAGIC IS BETTER THAN YOUR MAGIC, you see.

No harm has been done, where obviously it could have been,

had they been so minded. Very well, then—for an old-

fashioned Challenge we shall offer an old-fashioned Quest. It

is appropriate; it has the right ring to it."

"Foof." said Donald Patrick. "It's absurd."

"Indeed it is," I agreed, "and that's the whole point."

"We might should ignore the whole thing," he said. "For all

we know."

"We do, and there will be no Grand Jubilee of the

Confederation of Continents of Ozark, Donald Patrick Bright-

water—and yes, I do know, down to the penny, what all this

has been costing us. Nor will we have another meeting of the

Confederation, I daresay, for a very long time. Whoever is

doing this, they would be delighted to have us ignore it all, and

SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

everybody snickering behind their hands at us for cowards and

weaklings . . . and it is in the hope that we will be fools

enough to do that that they've kept every move to pestering

only and not gone forward to injury. If they can bring us down

for two cents, why spend two dollars?" I was completely out

of breath.

"They have overplayed their hand," said Patience, "with

this matter of the McDaniels baby."

"I believe so," I said. "It was a mistake of judgment. They

should of kidnapped one of Jubal's Mules instead."

"And hung it in a cedar tree? In a life-support bubble?" Her

brown eyes dancing. Patience of dark was clearly trying not to

imagine Jubal's favorite Mule being cleaned and fed and

curried up in the cedar tree; and losing the battle.

"It would of been safer," I said. "/ might of been busy

enough not to take it for anything more than a prank; and they

would of had still more time to make nuisances of them-

selves—and undercut the confidence in our security staff—

before the Jubilee."

"Responsible, that's but eleven weeks away!" Patience

broke in, the laughter in her eyes fading. "That's mighty little

time."

"All the more reason to talk less and do more," I said.

"Here's what I propose."

I would take our best Mule, from Brightwater's champion

line, called Sterling and deserving of her name. I would make a

brief and obvious fuss around the city in the way of putting

together suitable outfitting for a journey of a special kind. I

would let the word of the Quest be "leaked" to the comset

networks. And then, I would do each Castle in turn, staying

only just long enough at each to make the point that had to be

made. Responsible of Brightwatel; touring the Castles on a

Quest after the source of magic put to mischief and to

wickedness—just the thing. Just the thing!

"Even Tmaseeh?" asked Jubal dubiously.

"Even Tinaseeh. Certainly."

"It's a nine-day flight by Mule from here to Tinaseeh," he

said. "At least. And you do a Quest, you do it by foot or by

Mule, Responsible, no getting out of that. Nine days, just that

one leg of the trip."

"As the crow flies," I acknowledged. Not that it would of

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              15

taken me nine days, but there was no reason to let Jubal Brooks

know more than he needed to know. "I will not head straight

for Tinaseeh across the Oceans of Remembrances and of

Storms, dear Uncle. I am touring the Twelve Kingdoms on

solemn Quest, please remember. First I will go to Castle

McDaniels. Then a short flight to Afkansaw, a mere hop across

die channel to Mizzurah, on over to Kintucky, and then—and

onty then—to Tinaseeh. Then Oklahomah, quick around it,

•^ and back home."

"But, my dear niece," he said—Jubal Brooks was stubborn,

grant him that—"though it's but one day from Kintucky's

southernmost coast to the coast of Tinaseeh, that one day will

set you down not at Castle Traveller but on the edge of the

largest Wilderness Lands on Ozark. Larger than the entire land

area of this continent, for example; I strongly doubt you'll do

the trip over that in less than three days. and you'd still have

two days ahead of you before you reached the Castle gates!"

My grandmother stepped in then; the man was getting above

himself, but tact, of course, was necessary. Men are a great

deal of trouble, I must say.

"Jubal Brooks," she said, firmly but courteously, "Respon-

sible was properly named. I suggest we do her the courtesy of

trusting her in this."

"Distances," he began—the man was ranting!—"are dis-

tances. Name or no name—"

We might of wasted a lot more time on that kind of thing, if

there hadn't of been a knock on the door just as he was hitting

his stride. For all that we were in Council, we could spare time

to answer the door; and we did. Nobody was there, of course,

leading Emmalyn to look puzzled and Patience to look

innocent, but it served its purpose.

I dismissed Council with thanks, letting Jubal run down

naturally as we all filed out, paid a visit to the guestchambers

only to be told that the baby's parents had gone with full

ceremonial tent to camp in the bed of needles beneath their son

and heu; taking along the infant daughter of a servingmaid to

see to the problem of Vine of Motley's milk—a practical

solution, if a bit hard on the servingmaid—and then I ran for

the stables.

So far as I was concerned, we were late already,

CHAPTER 2

So CLOSE TO HOME I didn't dare take chances, and so I let my

Mule fool about and waste hours in the air on the first stage of

my journey, to Castle McDaniels. I wore an elaborate gown of

emerald green; under it I had on flared trousers of a deeper

green, tucked into trim high boots of scarlet leather with silver

bells about the bootcuffs and silver spurs all cunningly worked.

And I had over that a tight-laced corselet of black velvet

embroidered in gold and silver, and it was all topped with a

hooded traveling cloak of six layers black velvet quilted

together with silver thread in a pattern of wild roses and star-in-

the-sky-vine and friendly ivy. My scarlet gloves matched my

boots and my riding crop matched my spurs, and around my

throat on a golden chain was a talisman almost not fit for the

sight of decent people, except that decent people could be

counted on not to know what it meant and anybody that knew

what it meant would sure not mention it. All in all it was a

purely disgusting sight. When I flew I preferred honest denims,

and over them a cloak of brown wool. And spurs and riding

crop to fly a Mule were about as sensible as four wheels and a

clutch to sail a ship—but none of that was relevant.

17

18 SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

I was a symbol, and a symbol carrying out a symbol. I was,

by the Twelve Corners, a Meta-Symbol, and I intended to look

the part if it choked me. They, whoever they might turn out to

be, would have leisure to compare the style in which Castle

Brightwater did these things with their scroungy brigand on a

mangy rented Mule. I would see to that, and I intended to rub it

in and men add salt, if I got the chance.

I brought Sterling down smartly at the entrance to Castle

McDaniets without raising so much as a puff of dust, and I

called out to the guardmaid at the broad door to let us in.

"Well met. Responsible of Brightwater!" she hollered at

me; and I mused, as I had mused many and many a time

before, on the burden it gave the tongue to greet either myself

or my sister Troublesome (not that many greeted her!). A

regular welter of syllables, and I hoped the Granny that did it

got a pain in her jaw joints. When I was a child, the others

made me pay for the inconvenience, ringing changes on it all

me day long. Obstreperous of Laketumoc, they liked to call me.

Preposterous of Bogwatec Philharmonic of Underwear And

numerous variations in the same vein. On the rare occasions

when my sister and I shared the same space, they liked to call

us "Nettlesome and Cuddlesome."

We have a saying, an ancient one: "Don't get mad; get

even." It stayed my hand when I was young enough to mind

such nonsense, and now I would not stoop me distance

necessary to get even. But it still rankles at times. As when a

skinny guardmaid bellows out at me before all the world,

"Well met. Responsible of Brightwater!"

"Well met yourself," I said, "and why not good morrow

while we're at it?"

"Beg your pardon?" She had a slack jaw, too, and it

dropped, doing nothing to improve the general effect.

"As should you," I said crossly. "The year is 3012, and

*well met* went out with the chastity belt and the spindle."

"I have a spindle," she said to me, all sauce, but she must

not of cared for the expression on my face; she left it at that.

"What's your name, guardmaid?" I asked hec while I

waited for the idea to reach her brain that someone should be

notified of my arrival.

"Demarest, I'm called. Demarest of Wommack."

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              19

Demarest ... it was a name that had no associations for

me, and she was far from home.

"Would you tell the McDaniels I'm here, Demarest of

Wommack?" I asked her, giving up. No doubt the McDaniels,

like myself, were having trouble finding Castle staff that could

even begin to meet the minimum needs of their jobs. It made

me sorry, at times, that robots were forbidden to us- True, they

were me first step toward a population that just lay around and

got fat and then died of bone laziness; I understood and

approved the prohibition. But they would of been so useful for

some things. Pacing off the boundaries of a kingdom, for

instance, which had to be done on foot, every inch of

it ... and letting people into Castles.

She looked at me out of the corner of blue eyes under

straight-cut coppery bangs, and she tugged at the beUpull

hanging at her right hand, and in due course me Castle

Housekeeper appeared and opened the front doors to me. She

did not, I'm happy to say, tell me I was well met; but she called

stablemaios to take away the Mule and unload my saddlebags.

and she showed me into a small waiting room where a fire

burned bright against me February chill. And she saw to it that

someone brought me a glass of wine and a mug of hearty soup.

I settled my complicated skirts and maddening trousers, and

drank my soup and wine, and soon enough the arched door

opened and in came Anne of Brightwater, my kinswoman and a

McDaniels by marriage, to greet me.

"Law!" she said from the doorway, looking me up and

down. She was blessed with a plain name and plain speech

both, and I envied her the first at least.

"Look like a spectacle, don't I?" I acknowledged.

"My, yes," said Anne.

"I'm supposed to," I said. "You should see my underwear"

She agreed to forego that experience, and came and sat

down and stared at me, shaking her head and biting her lower

Hp so as not to laugh.

"Well, Anne?"

"Oh, I'm sure you've good reasons," she said, "and I have

sense enough not to want to know what they are. But I'll wager

not a single Granny saw you leave in that getup, or more than

your boots and your gloves would be rosy red."

I chuckled; I expected she was right.

29 Suzerrc HADEN ELGIN

"Welcome, Responsible of Brightwatel," said Anne then,

"and how long are we to have the misery of your company?"

Plainer and plainer speech.

"Can you put me up for twenty-four hours, sweet cousin?"

"In the style you're decked out for?"

"If you mean must there be dancing in the streets, Anne, no,

I'll spare you that."

"What, then? You didn't Just 'drop in' on your way to buy a

spool of thread somewhere."

Anne pulled her chair near the fire, folded her arms across

her chest, fixed her attention on me, and waited.

"I, Responsible of Brightwatel," I recited, "am touring the

Twelve Castles of Ozark, Castle by Castle, in preparation for

the Grand Jubilee of the Confederation. Which is—as you'll

remember—to be convened at Castle Brightwater on the eighth

day of this May. And I begin here, dear cousin, to do you

honoc"

"And because Castle McDaniels is closest."

"And," I capped it, "because a person has to begin

somewhere. There is one advantage; if I start with you, then it

follows that you're first done with me."

"Ah, yes," she sighed, "there is that."

She leaned back in her chair and sighed again, and I tried to

keep my spurs from making holes in her upholstery.

"What's required?" she asked me.

"One party," 1 said. "A very small one. In honor of my tom;

you know. In honor of my Quest.**

"In honor of the Pickles,"

"The Pickles? Anne!"

On Earth, we are told in the Teaching Stories, there was a

food called pickles, made out of some other food called

cucumbers. On this world. Pickles are small flat squishy round

green things, and they bite. They certainly are not good to eat,

even in brine, and we grant them a capital letter to keep the

kids mindful not to step on them barefoot.

"Well," said Anne of Brightwater, "it's just as sensible."

"It would be just as well," I said, "not to mention the

Pickles in your invitations."

"Responsible, dear Cousin Responsible. I despise parties' I

always have despised them, and you know it. Why don't you

be too tired, instead?"

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              21

The fire crackled in the fireplace, and a nasty wind howled

round the Castle walls, and I knit my brows and glared at her

until she sighed one more time and went away to give the

necessary orders. My mention as she stepped into the hall that

she'd best expect a comset film crew did nothing for her

expression, but she went on; and I got myself out of my spurs

and hung them over a comer of her mantel.

There could be no treason here—and that was what all this

foolishness in fact amounted to, of course, plain treason—not

m Castle McDaniels. The Brightwaters and the McDaniels had

been closer than the sea and its shore ever since First Landing,

and if there was anyone in this Castle who was not kin to me by

birth or by marriage, or tied to me by favors given and

received, it was some ninny such as stood guardmaid.

Nevertheless, a Quest was a Quest, and it had to be done

according to the rules. I had had a boring flight, tooling along

through the air and waving to passing birds; and I would have a

boring supper with Anne's boring husband, and then we would

all have a boring party and be boringly exhausted in the

morning. And then before lunch I would be able to lake my

leave for Castle Purdy.

At which point a thought struck me, and I pulled my map

from my pocket and unfolded it. Upper right-hand comer of

die pliofilm, the small continent Marktwain, with the Outward

Deeps off its coasts to the east. To the south of Marktwain,

Oklahomah, a tad biggec To the west, and dwarfing both, the

continent of Arkansaw, with little Mizzurah almost up against

its western coast and sheltered some from the Ocean of Storms

by its overhang to the north. Then across the Ocean of Storms,

in the northwest corner of my map, was Kintucky, big as

Oklahomah but with only the Wommacks to manage the whole

of it. And last of all, filling the southwest cornei; the huge bulk

of Tinaseeh, the only one of our continents to have an inland

sea, and its Wilderness Lands alone as big as either Kintucky

or Oklahomah. And the empty Ocean of Remembrances,

filhng all the southeast comer:

True, the most obvious route, and the one I had described to

me arguesome Jubal, was straight over to Arkansaw. But

Arkansaw was shared by Castles Purdy and Guthrie and

Farson. And those were three of the most likely to have

22 SUZETTC HADEN ELGIN

something to hide from me and require an investment of my

time.

An alternative that might save me time in the iong run would

be to fly straight on south to Castle Clark on Oklahomah, and

make a quick circuit of Castles Smith and Airy, both of

which—along with Clark—were loyal to the Confederation. I

could maybe do the entire continent in eight, nine days,

counting one to a Castle for the required ceremonial stopover,

before I moved on to Arkansaw and more reasonable sources

of trouble.

The McDaniels children found me poring over my map and

gathered round to look over my shoulder, all nine of them. The

room shrank around me; not a one of them that was not a

typical McDaniels, big and stocky and broad-shouldered (and

if female, broad-hipped as well). It got very crowded in that

room.

"This is a nice map you've got," said one of the younger of

the herd, a boy called Nicholas Fail-tower McDaniels the

somethingth—I could not remember the what-th there for a

minute. The 55th? No; the 56m. I was embarrassed; if there is

one thing expected of us it is knowing people's names, and this

boy was a second cousin of mine.

"What are you looking for, Responsible? It's a nice map,

like Nicholas says, but there's a lot on it."

"She's looking for the kidnapper—" said the very littlest,

and instantly clapped both hands over his mouth. "I forgot,"

he said around his fingers.

Either Anne or their father then had threatened them with

dire events if they mentioned that baby; still, it was a

McDaniels baby, and it was not surprising that they'd be

interested. Manners were hard to get the hang of.

"I am trying to decide," I said, ruffling the boy's hair to

show I didn't intend to take notice of his lapse, "which is the

best way to go when I leave in the morning.' Like you say,

there's a lot of choices."

The children hadn't any hesitation at all—zip due west to

Arkansaw, as any fool could see. Except for one of them. Her

name was Silverweb, and she was fifteen years old and not yet

mairied; perhaps it was her intention to become a Granny

without the bother of waiting around to become a widow. She

was a handsome strapping young woman, with a pleasant face;

Twelve Fair Kingdoms

23

die bound her hair back in an intricate figure-eight of yellow

braids that I could never of managed, and she carried herself

with dignity. I made a mental note to compliment Anne on this

daughter—her only daughter—who seemed to me to show

promise.

She laid a well-tanned finger that showed she wasn't afraid

of a little sun to my map, and traced a different route. Castle

dark, on Oklahomah's northeast corner. Castle Airy, at the

southern tip ... Oklahomah came very near being a trian-

gle. Then to Castle Smith, in the northwest corner: My choice

exactly.

"Do it that way," she said. "Then over to Arkansaw; only

an easy morning's ride. And you're at Castle Guthrie."

"Faugh. Silverweb," said one of her brothers, "she can't do

that at all. You heard Mother—Cousin Responsible is touring

all twelve Castles on solemn Quest. The way to do it is go

straight on to Arkansaw, then Mizzurah, men Kintucky, then

Tinaseeh, then end up in Oklahomah, and back to

MaricXwain."

"If she ever gets out of Tinaseeh," said another "Horrible

old place, Tinaseeh is, and full of things that would as soon eat

you alive as look at you."

"Not as horrible as your room!"

I moved out of the way so as not to get my costume spoiled,

grateful that the map was indestructible, and let them shove

and cany on for a bit to get it out of their systems. Silverweb,

calm among the turmoil, held fast that it would be just as

sensible, and twice as pleasant, and break no rules that she'd

ever heard of, if I went the other way round.

"But then she's got all that open ocean between Tinaseeh

and Oklahomah to fly! Look at it, would you? A person could

fly over that and never be heard of again—it must be ...

three days across? Five? Six?"

"It's got to be done at one end or the other," scoffed his

sister "Better to do it when the worst is over and she can take

her time. She'll be plain worn out, by then."

"What makes you think so, Silverweb?" the boy taunted,

for all he had to stand on his tiptoes to look her in the eye.

"She's Responsible of Brightwater, Silverweb, she's not a

tourist!"

SUverweb's chin went up and the blue eyes almost closed.

24

SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

She took one stop forward and the boy fell back two. Second of

nine she was; it couldn't be easy. And the other eight all

male ... it was enough to constitute a substantial burden.

SUverweb. I added it up in my head—she was a seven.

Withdrawal from the world . . . that went with not marrying

. . . secrets and mystery . . - that fit the hooded eyes and

me intricate figure of her braids. From what I could see, this

one was properly named, and living up to it.

As of course she would be. There were no incompetent

Grannys on Marictwain to cause trouble with an Improper

Naming, as had been known to happen elsewhere from time to

time.

I let them squabble, Silverweb winning easily, and relaxed

as best I could given the way I was dressed, enjoying the sight

of them all if not the sound. I had my route chosen now—as

Silverweb had had the wit to lay it out, and it was not designed

solely in terms of distances and points of the compass. I would

do quickly the friendly territory of Oklahomah; and in that way

I'd have a bit extra where it was less than friendly.

The party was pleasant, more a dance than a party, and a

credit to Anne. She'd invited people enough to fill the Castle's

smaller ballroom, and had managed to muster a respectable

crowd, considering me short notice and a thunderstorm that

had already been scheduled and could not of been postponed

without distorting the weather for the next three weeks. Anne

and I stood in a comer back of the bandstand where the Caller

was hollering out the dances, both of us in slight danger from a

flying fiddle bow but willing to risk it for the sake of the semi-

privacy. I despised parties as much as Anne did, probably

more. and I couldn't dance even the simplest dances, much less

the complex things they were weaving on the tiles that night in

honor of my visit.

"Star in the shallows, flash and swim,

Lady to her gentleman and parry to him!"

"Wherever do they leam to do all that?" I marveled.

"Circle has a border to it, touch it and run.

Muffins in the oven till their middles are done!"

Twelve Fair Kingdoms            25

"You should of been taught," said Anne- "They had no

right to leave you ignorant just because you might of enjoyed

yourself."

"There wasn't time," I said, which was the plain truth.

Plus, I was awkward, always had been.

"Braid a double rosebud, smother it in snow,

Swing your partner, and dosey-do!"

"Step on a Pickle in the dark of night,

Grab your cross lady, and allemande right!"

"It's not fail," she insisted. "I hear your brother's the best

dancer in three counties, and turning all the girls to cream and

buttec And I'll wager they saw to it that your sister learned

every dance that was worth knowing."

I snorted. "Nobody ever 'saw to it' that Troublesome did

anything, Anne of Brightwater What she wanted to do, she

did. What she cared to know about, she learned. Anything else

was just so much kiss-your-elbow"

"Sashay down the center; rim around the wall,

Single-bind, double-bind, and promenade all!"

I couldn't even understand these calls . . . dosey-do and

promenade-the-hall went by often enough to let me know it

was dancing, but the intricacies of it were beyond me. I

couldn't decide whether I minded that, either, though on

general principles I was not supposed to fall behind on

anything that mattered to any sizable proportion of Ozarkers,

"sizable" being defined as more than three. It looked to be hot

work, and I fanned my face with my blank program in

sympathy.

"Young people!" I said, ducking the bow. "They do amaze

me."

Anne gave me a sharp look, and I looked her right back and

.waited. Whatever she had to say, she'd say it; she'd said

enough about my blue-and-silver party dress, which was even

more preposterous in the way of gewgaws and lollydaddles

man the one I'd arrived in. And my high-heeded silver slippers

with the pointed toes.

26 SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

"My daughter, Silverweb," she said to me, and I noticed

that she was talking with her teeth clenched, and spitting out

the syllables like she couldn't spare them, "Silverweb, my

dear cousin, is a 'young people.'"

"And a fine one," I agreed. "That's a likely young woman,

and I plan to keep my eye on her in future. I wager she'll go a

considerable distance in this worid."

"SiTverweb," Anne said again, "is fifteen years old. And

you, Responsible of Brightwater, you remarking on the habits

of these 'young people' like a blasted Granny, have had

precisely fourteen birthdays, and the fourteenth not more than

six weeks ago!"

It wasn't often I stood rebuked lately, not since we'd finally

managed to pack my sister off where she couldn't do any harm

to speak of or leave me holding the bag if she was bound and

determined to live up to her name. But this was one of the

times, and I had it coming. Not that we arc given to

considering only the calendar years on Ozark, we know many

other things more worth considering. But my speech had not

been genteel. It was the sort of thing my mother would of said,

and I wished, not for me first time, that I had the skill of

blushing. That, like the ability not to fall over my own big feet,

had been left out of my equipment. And the more ashamed of

myself I was, the more I looked like I didn't care atall—I knew

that. I only wished I knew what to do about it.

Anne of Brightwater was not as tall as I was, and she had a

usual habit of gathering herself in that made her seem even

smaller, but she was making me feel mighty puny now, there

mid the music and the boom of thunder A trick like a cat does,

puffing herself up to be more impressive.

"It is hard for Silverweb," said my kinswoman, spitting

sparks now along with the syllables, "seeing you come here,

dressed like a young queen and treated like one, off on a Quest

before all the world and it taken seriously—oh, they are, don't

you worry, they are taking it very seriously! While she stands

aside and must hear herself called *one of the McDaniels

children.' Had you thought of that?"

I had not thought of it, obvious though it surely should have

been. I looked at the tall grave girl who was a year my senior,

moving easily through the squares in a simple dress of giay silk

sprigged with pale green rosebuds, and her only ornament a

shawl of dark gray wool in a Love-in-the-Mist knotting, with a

Twelve Fair Kingdoms

27

pearl fringe . . . and perhaps the single wild rose in her

yellow hak I remembered the way I had sat that afternoon,

"watching the children," with a pretty fair estimate of the

expression that must of been on my face at that time, and I felt

a fool. Had I called her "one of the children" in her hearing?

Surely not . . . but supper had been boring, as expected, and

I'd not paid a great deal of mind to curbing my tongue.

"The mother lion defends her young," I said lamely, and the

nearest Fiddler got me back of the ear, making me jump.

"And a stitch in time saves nine!"

I winced and stared at the floor, and Anne drew her skirts

around her with a swish like ribbon tearing and went off and

left roe standing there all alone as she headed for the ballroom

dool; managing to tangle herself up with two couples in a reel

before she sailed out into the corridor and slammed the door

behind hec

She would be back later to apologize. After all, I had not

chosen to be Responsible of Brightwatec It was none of my

doing. A Granny had chosen that role for me and I filled it as

best I could, and no doubt there were good reasons. Some of

mem I knew, and some I could guess, though there seemed a

kind of fuzz between them and my clear awareness; others I

would learn in time, and some I would be told. When I was

buried they would be written on a sheet of paper narrow as my

thumb, in the symbols of Formalisms & Transformations, and

tucked between my breasts and buried with me. Somewhere, if

she still lived, there was someone who knew every one of those

reasons at this very moment, and no doubt the knowledge lay

heavy on her shoulders; I hoped they were broad.

I was behaving like a fourteen-year-old, I realized, and I

smoothed my ruffled feathers and set my quarrel with Anne

aside, along with the futile lamenting about my lack of

elegances. Spilt milk, all of it, and I'd spill gallons more

before I saw my own Castle gates again. The only important

question I needed to concern myself with was: could there be

mischief here, if not treason, despite the fact that the

McDaniels were close to the Brightwaters as our skins?

I listened, then, with more than my ears—my ears were too

fall of fiddle and guitar and dulcimer to be useful in any case—

and only silence came back to me. Here I might be annoying,

28 SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

and I might be read up and down, but here I was loved, and

here the Confederation was seen as a worthy goal to be worked

toward. I found no small thing that I could worry about, and I

worried easy; nor would I be spending this night casting Spells

to troll for echoes that I might of missed hearing through the

music.

Thunder boomed again, less intimidating than Anne, and I

poured myself another glass of punch and retreated further into

the protection of the tall white baskets of flowers and ferns that

surrounded the bandstand. And seeing as how the McDaniels

set as fine a party table as was to be found anywhere, I had

another plate of food. I would be off in the morning early, I

decided, and skip the breakfast. That way I wouldn't have to

face Silverweb of McDaniels again and risk putting my foot

deeper yet in the muck than I had already, from being self-

conscious over slighting her so today.

My pockets were deep and my skirts full enough to hide

plenty of lumps. I made sure I had both a midnight snack and a

breakfast squirreled away before Anne came back to tuck her

arm through mine and tell me what a crosspatch she'd been

over nothing.

"It wasn't 'nothing,'" I said resolutely, "and I had every

word you said coming to me, Anne. But I want you to know it

wasn't meant to be the way it looked, and I wish you'd tell

Silverweb that once I'm gone. And I thank you for bringing my

manner to my attention here and now, close to home; it would

not be so easy if you were the lady of Castle Traveller,"

"Just use your head," she said, and tears in her eyes because

she saw I was truly sorry. Anne of Brightwater had a quick

temper, but a heart that melted at blood heat, nearly. "And

watch your tongue."

"I'm trying," I said. "I'll get the hang of it."

I had for sure better get the hang of it, and that with some

speed.

"You'll tell Silverweb?" I asked her. "Promise?"

"I'll tell her; And she will understand. Silverweb is a deep

one."

CHAPTER?

THE NEXT DAY I was able to be a little more sensible. Leaving,

I still wore my spectacular traveling outfit, but the minute I was

well over the water and out of sight of the fishing boats I

brought Sterling to a full stop in midair and changed into

something that didn't make what was already misery doubly

so. Balancing on Muleback for that kind of thing takes

practice, and properly fastened straps and backups, but I was

more than up to it—I'd had lots of practice. Mostly it requires

pretending you are flat on the ground, while at the same time

not exactly forgetting that it's a good ways down.

I took the Ocean of Remembrances at a leisurely pace; it was

a three-day flight from Castle McDaniels to the first landfall on

Oklahomah, and since I'd done Castle to coast in about

fourteen minutes flat I had time to make up over the ocean.

I cut the Mule back to half her regulation speed, and I

balanced a very small dulcimer—all I'd been able to fit in my

saddlebags, but not all that bad—over her broad neck, and I

sang my way dry through a steady wind and plenty of rain by

way of a Weather Transformation that it was fully illegal for me

to know. Sterling disliked the dulcimer, and she probably

29

SUZETTC HADEN ELGIN

30

disliked my voice even more; it was a good deal like her own.

Just as I was never called upon to dance at parties, I was never

called upon to sing (anywhere), and I reveled in my opportuni-

ty. here at a height where there was nobody to clap hands over

their ears and beg me to leave off tormenting them. I do know a

lot of ballads, not to mention every hymn in the hymnal, and I

enjoyed myself tremendously.

There is some inconvenience, of course, to making any

lengthy ocean voyage by Mule, our oceans being almost

completely empty of islands or reefs. A person could get

through one day without too much hassle, provided you neither

ate nor drank the day before nor during the flight itself. But

once you went beyond that single day the inevitable happened,

and considerable gymnastics were required of both rider and

Mule. (This was not the least of the reasons why Ozarkers for

the most part went by boat from continent to continent, and it

made it unlikely that I would meet any other citizen on

Muleback as I went along, which was all to the good in me

interests of modesty.) Only for the sake of a symbol would

anything so unhandy be undertaken by a reasonable person,

and few had that sort of symbol to deal with.

I had ample time to think about the distances and times of

flight that would be expected of me, when my throat and my

fingers got tired. Brightwater to McDaniels, one very long day,

and then three more to Oklanomah. Three days roughly for

each leg of the triangle from Castle dark to Castle Smith,

Castle Smith to Castle Airy, and back again almost to dark for

the best take-off across the channel to Arkansaw—that a day's

flight only, and a short day. Three days' travel for Castles

Farson and Guthrie, a day's flight to Mizzurah; two days there

and two to Castle Puroy Four days across the Ocean of Storms

to Kintucky, provided the ocean didn't do too much living up to

its name and force me to put in an extra day for the benefit of

the population. Ten days from Kintucky to Tinaseeh. Then the

longest leg over water ... the McDaniels children had not

been too far off in their estimate of the flight time from

Tinaseeh's southeast tip back to Oklahomah; it was a good five

days, even with fair weather and a tailwind. And then four

days home. Fifteen days, even cutting it very close, I'd be

expected to spend flying over water And far more than that for

T\velve Fair Kingdoms

31

die land distances, with stops at the same intervals expected of

anyone else.

Since I was all alone I indulged myself, and turned the air

blue to match the stripe between Sterling's ears, which were

still laid back in protest against my concert. I could of done the

whole trip, the actual flying time, in about an hour total, just

die amount of realtime involved in take-offs and landings, and

there was no time to spare with the Jubilee coming in May, and

February almost over. But whereas a Magician of Rank could

have done it that way and nobody would of done more than

maybe fuss mildly about people that felt obliged to show off,

having a -woman do such a thing would cause about the same

amount of commotion as a good-sized groundquake. And the

damage would not be repairable by stone and timber: I could

shave an hour here and half an hour there and get away with it,

but not much more, not without causing more trouble than I

could conveniently put an end to. The word would be well out

by now, and people in the towns and farms—and on the water

along me coasts, too—would be expecting to look up and see

roe fly by all in emerald and black and gold and silver and

scarlet, at reasonable points of time. Aeronautically

reasonable.

, I could think of no cover story that would get me out of any

of that time, except that (the Twelve Comers be praised) I

would be able to do most of my make-up time in the

Wilderness instead of over the oceans. The likelihood of

anybody observing me in mid-ocean once I got away from the

coasts was too small to be worth considering; I would do a

decorous few miles in sight of land, SNAP to a suitably remote

spot in the nearest Wilderness, and camp there to wait out the

time it "should" of taken me to fly that far Enough was

enough. Muleflight was fine for formal occasions, for short-

time travel, and for racing and hunting, but it was one of the

roost boring ways ever devised for going long distances.

Sterling, like any other Mule with a sense of self-respect,

refused to go through the completely superfluous leg move-

ments in the air that travel over ground or in the water would of

required ... it was a lot like sitting on a log (a smalt log)

floating through the air, and if it hadn't been for the wind

-Mowing past you it would of been easy to believe that you

weren't moving at all. Over the water even the wind wasn't all

32 SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

that much diversion. It wasn't tiring, and twelve full hours of it

was no great strain on either Mule or rider, but, law, it was

boring. I intended to keep it to a minimum.

The coast of Oklahomah is peaceful land. Pale golden sand

sloping gently down to the water on one side and gently up into

low green hills on the otnei; and the weather always easy there.

There were boats out, farther from the land than I had really

expected them to be, and I made my arm tired waving at their

passengers before I began my descent. And managed to drop

my poor dulcimer into the Ocean of Remembrances in the

process. New motto: never try to balance a dulcimer across a

Mule's neck, keep from falling off the Mule, and wave to a

boat captain below you at the same time.

Sterling and I settled down toward the land, and I saw that

my expectations were correct; the word had gone out.

Although Castle Clark was no more than three miles up from

the shore, where it had a view that melted both heart and mind

as it faced out toward the sea, there was a delegation of some

sort waiting to meet me. I wouldn't have to hammer on the

gates of Castle Clark as I had had to do at Castle McDaniels;

we were going in in a small, and I hoped a tasteful, procession.

The darks' Castle staff wore dark brown livery, trimmed at

cuff and hem with yellow and white. Four of the staff were

there on Muleback (all, by their insignia, Senior Attendants),

me dark crest embroidered on their right shoulders. I had

always liked that crest; two stalks of wheat, crossed, yellow on

a field of brown, and a single white star above the wheat—

nothing more. It pleasured the eye and was a credit to the

Granny that'd devised it when the Castle was built.

"Good morning, miss," they said, which was a great relief,

and I good-mominged them back again. And then they told me

that dinner was waiting for us at the Castle, which pleasured

me even more. I hope to outgrow my appetite one of these

years, but I was hungry again.

"And a message from Castle Smith waiting, miss," said

one.

"What sort of message. Attendant?"

"Don't know, miss. I was told to greet you, ask you to

dinner; and say the message was waiting. That's all."

We turned the Mules, and they followed me, four abreast

Twelve Fair Kingdoms

33

aad a mannerly four Mule-lengths behind, across the sand and

up the hill ahead of us. The Mules had no objection to the hard-

packed beach, but floundered once we were above the tideline;

I me pleased to see that none of the animals following me took

the all too common Mulish tactic of stopping dead and refusing

to move, sinking deeper all the while into the sand. They were

well trained, and they struggled through the powdery stuff

without hesitation, though I'd no doubt they'd of said a good

deal if they'd bad the chance. Not one brayed, a sure sign of

good management in the stables, and once we reached the road

their hoofs tapped smartly along the white pavement. Very

orderiy, and I Liked order. I was in a good mood, and prepared

to be in a better one, as we went through the gates and

dismounted in the courtyard, and I was led straight on to a long

balcony on the second floor that looked out over the hills to the

sea.

There sat the darks. Nathan Terfelix Clark the 17th, with a

beard like a white bush trimming up his burly chest, and not a

hair on his head, in compensation. His wife, Amanda of

Farson, the one with the chins. Their three daughters, Una,

Zoe, and Sharon, and the husbands of the two eldest at their

sides. Let me see - . .it was Una that had scandalized her

parents by marrying a Travellei; and gone on to scandalize the

Families nearby by loving him far beyond what was either

decent or expected, and that would be him, Gabriel Ladder-

cane Traveller the 34th, in the suit of black. The Travellers

were unwilling to give up any of their ancient trappings, and

they dressed still as they had the day they stepped off The Ship

in 2021. Zoe's husband was a kinsman, Joseph Frederick

Brightwater the 11m, and looked pleased to see me. And an

assortment of babies, all of them beautiful. I've never seen an

ugly baby—but then I've never seen a genuinely new one,

either—I'm told that might dent my convictions.

And there sat Granny Golightly.

She gave me the shivers, and it pleased me not to have her

where I had to see her oftener She stood not quite five feet tall,

she weighed about as much as a Mule colt, and she was an Airy

by birth, which had been an astonishing long time ago. If my

reckoning was right, Granny Golightly had passed her one

hundred and twenty-ninth birthday recently; next to her I was a

flyspeck on the windowpane of time. I intended to go lightly

34 SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

near hei; for sweet prudence' sake, and as befit her name.

"Hello there. Responsible of Brightwatel;" they said to me,

and waved roe to an empty chair in the sunshine. Dinner was

chowder—I counted eleven kinds of fish!—and dark ale, and

combread property prepared and so hot the butter disappeared

when it touched it, and a fine pair of salads, one fruit and one

vegetables. And a berry cobbler that I knew nobody at Castle

Brightwater could of brought off, including my own self.

Finishing that cobbler, and thinking back on the rest of the

meal, I understood fully how the Clarks acquired their bulk,

and I forgave Amanda her chins. What I did not understand

was the trim waists of the daughters, especially Una, who

accounted for five of the children. Perhaps since they had

grown up eating this way they had developed a natural

immunity- Or perhaps this was a company meal and they

usually ate like the rest of us at noon; I had, after all, been

expected here.

"Responsible of Brightwater," said Nathan Terfelix,

"there's a message here for you from Castle Smith. Man

arrived with it this morning almost before we had the gates

unlocked, and what he was in such a hurry for I have no idea.

Or interest. Knew you couldn't get here before noontime."

"Took off as fast as he arrived, too," Amanda added. "He

wouldn't even stop for a cup of coffee."

She raised her head and nodded at a young Attendant

standing near the door, and he brought me an envelope and laid

it in my hand without a word. He looked to be about eleven,

and if I was any judge his livery collar itched him; this must be

his first year in service.

"Amanda," I said as he backed away, "the young man's

collar is badly fit. Someone should see to it."

Granny Golightly cackled, which was trite.

"Not going to miss a trick, are you. Responsible of

Brightwater?" she demanded. "Going to see that our livery fits

the servants right, are you? You plan to inspect the stables

while you're here, and run your little white fingers up and

down the banisters?"

"I beg your pardon. Granny Golightly," I said. "I did not

mean to criticize."

"Lie to me, young missy, and you'll rue it," she snapped.

"Criticism you gave, and criticism we got, and I'll see to the

Twelve Fair Kingdoms

35

tadung's collar myself, this afternoon1. And to the careless

seamstress that made it too tight in the first place, whoever she

may be! All we need is sloppy staff giving Responsible of

Brightwater bits to add to her long list!"

This was ordinary behavior for a Granny, and I paid it no

mind; it had been years since I'd made the mistake of getting

into a wrangle with a Granny bent on public performance. She

went on like that for quite some time, under her breath, while I

turned the envelope from Castle Smith over in my hands, and

oie young husbands disappeared one at a time on mumbled

errands.

Creamy white papa; thick as linen, and an envelope that

ought to of held something of importance—which it had to

hold, if it could not of been sent by comset in the ordinary way

but had to be carried here by human hand. Seven inches square

if it was one, and the Smith crest stamped on it both front and

back, and an official seal! And inside it, all alone in the middle

of a sheet of matched paper like lonely raisins in a pudding, the

following words:

We regret that Castle Smith will be unable to entertain

you at mis time, due to a family crisis. Any questions you

might have can be asked there at Castle dark, and well

answered.

In cordial haste,

Dorothy of Smith

The eldest daughter of the Castle, Dorothy of Smith

. . . carrying out a minor social duty? Or what? Dorothy was

a pincher; I remembered her as a child at playparties and

picnics, always quick with her wicked little fingers, and

running before you could get a fair chance to pinch her back.

She would be fourteen now, just about three months older than

I was. And since she'd bid me ask questions, I asked one.

"Begging your pardon. Granny Golightly," I said, and the

Granny stopped her nattering and looked up from her cobbler.

"Amanda, do you or Nathan either of you know of any 'crisis'

at Castle Smith?"

Amanda looked blank, and Nathan frowned, and Granny

Golightly forgot her pose long enough to give me a sharp look

between bites.

36 SUZETTEHADEN ELGIN

"Crisis," said Nathan.

"What kind of crisis?" asked Amanda.

I waved the note. "Doesn't say," I said. "Just disinvites

me."

"Now that won't do, young lady," Granny Golightly

jumped in, "for you invited your own self on this particular

traipse-about! There was no call sent out from the Twelve

Castles, demanding the drop-in of Responsible of Brightwater

at her earliest convenience, not as / know of—and I would

know."

"Gently, Granny," said Zoe of dark, and leaned over to

pick up a baby. For ballast peAaps. "Gently!"

"Flumdiddle," said the Granny.

"I withdraw die accusation," I said, "and you are quite

right—I had no invitation. Not here, either but you've seen fit

to be hospitable and I thank you for it. I will remember it."

"On your list!" said Granny. "See there?"

"And," I added, "I will remember the way the Smiths set

their hands to the same plow—what to do with Responsible of

Brightwater, all inconvenient and uninvited. Unless—unless

there truly is trouble at Castle Smith to back this up."

Silence, all around the table. Mules braying in the stables,

and seabirds crying out as they whirled above us, but no

words, nor did I really expect many. Ozarkers do not talk

behind one another's backs, excepting always the Grannys,

who do it only as part of their ritual and are careful that it leans

to harmless nonsense.

"Anybody sick there?" I asked finally.

"Might could be," said Zoe. "It's that time of the year We

have a few people here down with fevers . . . nothing

serious, but fevers all the same."

"I was thinking more on me order of a plague," I said flatly.

More silence.

"All right," 1 said, "is mere marrying trouble there? Or

birthing trouble? Or naming trouble?"

"If there is," said Granny Gotightly, "Granny Gableframe

is there and she'll see to it."

"Responsible," said Amanda of Farson, "you're touring the

Castles, as I understand it, because you intend to find out who

hung the McDaniels baby in your cedar tree—"

"Flumdiddle!" said Granny Golightly again. Emphatically.

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              37

"Trite, Granny Gotightly," I said between my teeth, and she

wrinkled her nose at me.

"I say flumdiddle because no other word that's accurate sits

well in my mouth," she had back at me. "If all you wanted to

know was who did that foolish baby trick, you have Magicians

of Rank as could find that out for you without you setting out

on a Quest! Amanda, you can't see any farther than the end of

your nose."

"Gently, Granny," said Zoe again, and her sisters each

reached for a baby, too. They appeared to use the little ones

like a kind of armor in this Castle; any sign of tension and

everybody grabbed a baby. I wasn't sure what it signified, but it

was distinctive.

"What were you going to say, Amanda?" I asked, keeping

my voice as courteous as I could and hoping for a chance at this

Granny another day.

"I meant to say that the Smiths are easily ofiended. That's

well known."

"If they think you suspect them of doing that sorry piece of

business—and with you coming uninvited they'll for sure think

you do suspect them, since you've never done such a thing

before—you'll put their backs up," said Nathan Terfelix.

"They're stiffnecked and overproud. They won't bear being

spied upon."

"Do you see my visit as being spied upon?" I asked, taken

aback, and then regretted it; Golightly was on me quick as a

tick.

"Most certainly!" she said, little wrinkled cheeks red as

wild daisies. "Most certainly! And why not, seeing as that is

what it is?"

"Oh, my," I sighed, "this won't do."

"Now, my dear, that's just Granny's way of talking," said

Amanda. "You mustn't mind it."

Telling me, was she, about the Grannys and their way of

talking? Even Sharon looked embarrassed, and the silent Una

made a little noise in the back of her throat and stared down

into her coffee cup.

"Your Granny," I said quietly, "is doing what she's good at.

Stirring up trouble. Sowing dissent."

The old lady's brows went up, and I thought she was going

38

SUZETrt HADEN ELGIN

to rub her hands together with glee at finally getting to me. But

she waited, to see if I'd go on.

"I see no reason why youall can't know why I'm here," I

told them. "Nor why the tour of the Castles. For sure, 1 could

of found out without leaving my own bedroom—with the help

of a Magician of Rank, of course—"

"What are you up to with a Magician of Rank in your

bedroom?" Granny interrupted, scoring one point.

"—who kidnapped the McDaniels baby," I went right on.

"That's not in question. The point is that somebody, or some

one of the Families, is doing one piece of fool mischief after

another to try to make people back out of the Jubilee.

Especially people that've been against it all along and are Just

looking for an excuse to stay away. Finding out who's doing the

mischief is not really the point—though it serves as Quest

Goal, naturally, and I'll do it as I go along. The point is to show

that Castle Brightwater is not to be put down by mischief,

magical or otherwise."

"A symbol," said Amanda.

"A Quest for a Challenge," said Golightly, who knew her

business. "Quite right."

"But nobody here is against the Jubilee!" said Zoe, looking

both outraged and puzzled.

"Of course not," I agreed, "but do think, Zoe of dark!"

She jogged the baby a bit, and then she nodded.

"You couldn't go only to the Castles you suspect," she said.

"That would tip your hand."

"Green roosters, the girl's stupid!" shrilled Granny Golight-

ly, and Zoe winced. I thought I might have to take this Granny

in hand; and then I reminded myself sternly that the internal

affairs of Castle dark were none of my business, as long as

they remained allies of Brightwatec

"And why am I stupid, Granny?" demanded Zoe, and good

for her!

"She means," I said gently, "that the problem is not tipping

my hand—the Families that I suspect know who they are

already. Traveller; Purdy, Guthrie, and—I'm sorry, Amanda—

Parson. The reason for all this folderol is that a Quest must be

done in a certain fashion, or it is not a symbol. A Quest is one

thing, done under rigid constraints, one step at a time—"

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              39

"And plenty of adventures as you go along!" said Granny.

"That's required!"

"One step at a time," I went on, working uphill, "flying our

finest Mule, wearing my finest gown . . . and so on. Done

any other way, it's not a Quest at all, it's just the daughter of

Brightwater gallivanting around the planet uninvited and

unexplained. That would be something quite different, Zoe.

Brightwater doing this as a Quest, and doing it to the letter of

the rule—that says we mean business, and no mistake about

it."

The early shadows were beginning to stripe the balcony, and

the wind was coming up cold. The older children began

shooing the younger ones inside, and the dark daughters

passed along the babies in their laps to the staff to be carried in.

High time, too, to my mind.

"I see," Zoe said, rubbing her arms and drawing a shawl

around her shoulders from the back of her chair "Yes, that's

clear"

Nathan Terfelix pulled at his beard—which I would have

enjoyed pulling myself—and poured one half-cup of coffee all

around to finish off the pot.

"What do you think. Responsible of Brightwater?" he

asked; and there was no banter in his voice. "I take no insult on

the part of my wife—the Parsons have never shown sign of

love for the Confederation, and your logic can't be faulted. Nor

is she responsible for her family's doings on the other side of

Arkansaw, if doings there be. But what do you think of the

chances for this Jubilee?'*

"Fair to middling," I said. "Provided I do this right."

"I don't see it," said Sharon of Clark. "The Jubilee is a

celebration, a giant party. It's a lot of trouble for Castle

Brightwatci; but if they're willing, why should anybody else

care?"

I looked at Granny Golightly and waited for a remark about

the girl's stupidity, but apparently she didn't think twelve was

old enough yet to demand the attentions of her tongue. She

glared at me, but she held her peace.

"The Travellers," I told the child, "the Purdys, the

Guthries, the Parsons ... all of them want the Confedera-

tion set back to meeting one day a year like it once did, pure

play-acting with no muscle to it. And each Castle absolutely to

40 SUZETTE HADEN ELGIN

its own self the rest of the time. Every meeting, Sharon of

dark, the Travellers move to go back to that one day a year, the

Parsons second that, it goes to a vote, and it goes down seven

to five or eight to four depending. Every meeting . . . that's

the first thing happens after the Opening Prayer The Jubilee,

now, may look like a giant party, but it means a kind of

formalizing of the Confederation that's never been done yet.

Those Families would like to see it fail, like to see the other

Families do as Castle Smith has done here—send letters around

politely regretting that due to some 'crisis' they could not after

all attend the Jubilee. You see that?"

Sharon of dark drew her brows together and sighed. "Well.

it makes no sense atall," she said crossly. "Don't they know

anything? Don't they know that if it wasn't for the Confedera-

tion we'd have anarchism?"

"Anarchy, child," said her father "The word's anarchy"

"Well, that, then! Don't they even care?"

She was positively abristle with outrage, an<f I gave the

Granny credit for that; Sharon of dark had been properly

taught. I doubt she knew anarchy from a fishkettle, but she'd

learned it for a word to shudder at, and that was all that was

likely to be required of her

"Perhaps they don't care, Sharon," I said carefully. "And

then perhaps they only don't understand. If we knew the truth

of it, might could be we'd be able to change their minds on the

subject."

Amanda of Parson said nothing, there being little she could

say, and I paid her the courtesy of not questioning her on her

own sympathies, while her child nodded solemnly. Amanda

had been a dark by marriage now over forty years; it was not

likely that she still held to her Family's prejudices. Even if she

did, certainly she would not be involved in sabotage coming

from that quarter. A woman actively disloyal to her husband's

house would go back to her own, as a matter of honor; she

would not live as his wife and work against him.

"Speak openly. Responsible of Brightwater" said Granny

Golightly then, "and look in my eyes when you speak. Do you

suspect treason here?"

1 looked her eye to beady eye, and I spoke flat out. "For sure

and for certain, Granny Golightly, I do not. Nor, till I had this

scrap of paper from Castle Smith, did I suspect it on all of

Twelve Fair Kingdoms              41

Oklahomah. It was my idea that I'd stop quickly at each of the

three Castles here, where I knew the loyalty to the Confedera-

tion wasn't in question, and so doing gain maybe a little extra

time to spend in other places."

"She speaks the truth," said the Granny, showing an amount

of overconfidence that didn't specially surprise me. "And /

will speak the truth, returning her the favor and then we can all

get inside out of this blasted wind and get comfortable."

She leaned forward and tapped her skinny fingers together as

she steepled them, peering at me over the steeple. "There's no

trouble at Castle Smith," she said, "but not your treason,

either No one at Smith's doing magic as shouldn't be doing it,

or for evil ends."

"I wonder" I said.

"I'm telling you," she snapped, "and I know of what I

speak. You can cease wondering. I am the Granny of this

Castle, and the senior Granny of the five that share the

housekeeping of Oklahomah among us, and I tell you,

Uppity—-fourteen, aren't you! what an age for wisdom!—I tell

you there's no need to set your stubborn foot in Castle Smith.

It's as Nathan Terfelix says; they're stiff-necked and you've

insulted them, and they haven't the sense to see what you're

doing, any more than Sharon there did, or the babies."

"Not going would save me time," I hazarded.

"Don't go, then," she said, and stood up with more

creakings and poppings than an old attic floor in cold weather

"Who's there to suspect? Granny Gableframe, her that was a

Brightwater by birth, and a McDaniels by marriage forty-seven

years? Can you see her allowing such goings-on? And there's

whatsisname . . . Delldon Mallard Smith the 2nd, and twice

is enough if you ask me, no more gumption to him than a

nursing baby for all he thinks himself a power in the land. And

his three brothers, each of them as much a bully as he is, but

scared of him, more fools them . . . and all their poor

burdened wives, doing their best to clean up after their

worthless menfolk ..."

"Granny Golightly," I said quickly, "I think I follow you."