The Silence of Medair

"No," Ileaha replied, after a short pause. "They are all descended from the same great-grandmother, but none are first cousins."

Medair raised her eyebrows. "Who are they all?"

Ileaha glanced toward the centre of the house before she answered. "The Keridahl’s heirs. Or, to be more correct, the Keridahl’s potential heirs."

"Avahn is not heir outright, then?"

"He is now that the Keridahl has declared him so," Ileaha replied and, although she obviously tried to suppress it, her voice and face revealed that she could not at all understand what had possessed Cor-Ibis to take such a rash step.

"All children of the same line?" Medair mused. "The Keridahl’s mother was eldest, obviously. How many others are we speaking of?"

"Three," Ileaha replied, after an unnecessarily long pause. "But Kerin Mylar is usually not counted," she added, "since his blood is not pure."

Medair was genuinely surprised. Was this, then, the source of any supposed difficulty between the Keridahl and his mix-blood Kier? "That rather puts him on par with the Medarists, doesn’t it? Another century or two and the line will be inbred, for lack of pure partners. Does the Keridahl have some solution to this problem?"

"I don’t believe I have ever heard the Keridahl mention the subject," Ileaha replied, face very blank. "To be completely clear, I cannot say that I know of him expressing an opinion on the future of his bloodline, or if he believes the tradition of purity should be maintained. The Cor-Ibis line has, of course, never declared open allegiance with the purists." She looked down at her hands, while Medair tried to work out the implications of the purists, then said, "I offer you the use of my name, Kel ar Corleaux. Might I have yours?"

The first exchange of friendship was not what Medair had been expecting from this woman, who obviously set more store by the formality than Avahn. "By all means," she replied, managing to hide her sudden confusion. She had no reason to refuse what Ileaha offered.

"Thank you, Medair." Ileaha read her face easily enough. "You wonder why, don’t you? It’s not that you are easy to talk to – you listen well, but I can feel the weight of your secrets. Perhaps it is that you are an outsider, even though we suspect you are aligned to the Hold or to something even worse. When I talk to you, I listen to myself. Already I have discovered from your questions how much I reveal which I should not. You find it very strange that I think poorly of Avahn."

"Does that make you reconsider your opinion?" Medair asked, as she rapidly revised her own.

"Not really. He pretends to be less than what he is. I always thought it was from laziness, a love of pleasure over industry. He has ever played this game, chased the moment. Despite a formidable ability, he turned his back on his studies once he had reached the point where continuing meant true effort. He talks of nothing but racing and the bards and all that is enjoyable but of little use; Avahn who will one day be Cor-Ibis. None expected the Keridahl to choose him as heir and when he did, most believed that the Keridahl had discovered grievous faults in the competitors. This past week, I asked myself again why the Keridahl named Kerin Avahn over Keris Surreive and Kerin Adlenkar. How much of this display of feckless frivolity is act and how much is nature?"

The tone was analytic, but Ileaha was looking carefully away from Medair. Avahn’s attitude, particularly toward Ileaha herself, obviously cut deep. "Why do you let yourself be bullied into Keris las Theomain’s employ?" Medair asked, impulsively. "It’s clear that it’s not what you want."

"Clear to whom?" Ileaha said, a little bitterly. "Avahn sees that because he dislikes her also. Despite first appearances, you, Medair, have obviously never been without money."

Medair shrugged. "True."

"You see without really understanding. I have lived all but the first few years of my life on charity. Now, when I have been properly schooled in all that I would need for employment chosen for me long ago, a suitable prospect has been selected and offered a chance to look me over. And if I object to an excellent opportunity to work for a powerful woman who pays those in her employ very well indeed, merely because I find her tongue too sharp and her beliefs not mine, who would be wrong in calling me ungrateful, nothing more than a burden who will not be shifted?"

"Couldn’t you find someone you liked better? Surely they wouldn’t object? Do you want to be a secretary?"