Page 28 of Enchanted Net
“Ah.” Again, Magistra Landry was near impossible to read. “We will see you then, I hope.” Her mouth curled up slightly. “And I have no daughters, so you need not fear being prevailed upon to dance.”
It was a common problem, for all Albion’s upper society mostly ran to as many daughters as sons. But women who were expecting rarely travelled, and it made the dancing uneven in the younger generation. Vitus considered, then took a slight risk. “And I have no sisters, so Philip and Alexander are safe from the same.”
It made the two men smile, and from Alexander, at least, it was a fairly honest smile. He added, “Ummi has made sure I am sufficiently skilled as a dancer to partner her. Philip doesn’t care for it.”
Vitus blinked. That was a piece of information he hadn’t expected. Philip snorted, clearly at ease with his brother teasing him. “The truth is, Alexander has had more cause to learn it. I can manage, but I am not, mmm.” He searched for the word, visibly enough Vitus was sure of it. Alexander murmured something in a language Vitus didn’t know at all, and Philip nodded. “I am competent, but not decorative. Duelling training both is and is not a help.”
“Do you duel then, Alexander?” Vitus would not ask Philip, not directly, though that answer implied something. As had the way Philip moved during the consultation, that suddenly popped into his mind. But Alexander had just finished Schola, and not only was it potentially part of his study, but there was the Duelling Club, and various other activities of the kind. It was certainly a less threatening inquiry, a less personal one.
“Oh, yes. Protective and Martial magics, as well as Duelling club.” Alexander shifted his weight slightly, and Vitus noted he did not brag about his skills, not like others did. “Do you? I’ve been trying to figure out who to arrange a bout with, to keep up my skills, before I leave. Besides my brother.”
Vitus held up his hands. “I am not fit for that. I had the basics at school, and I do not quite have two left feet - I am a competent dancer - but duelling? Not my skill. I do work in stone, so I suppose it makes some sort of sense. Stone is rarely quick to respond.”
It made Magistra Landry chuckle, as if actually amused. “I appreciate a man who knows his own limits. I told you, Alexander, you ought to see if Thessaly has a little time. Of course, I don’t know her current standard.” She glanced up to consider Vitus again, and Vitus did his best not to shrink from her evaluation. He felt all of a sudden like all his conversations with Thessaly were on display, as innocent and simple as they had been. As public as they had been.
“But Master Deschamps - Vitus - is here, and Thessaly is not.” Alexander pointed out, with admittedly entirely correct logic. “I should say, sir, I appreciate the notes you gave Philip. He did a trip of the same kind, but it was years ago, and not all the same places I’m going.”
Philip cut in, his voice a smoother baritone than his brother’s tenor. “Time in Egypt, though, with some of Ummi’s extended family. And you will like that.”
“And that is not somewhere I have experience. But for what I could share, I am glad to. I don’t feel it’s necessary to make all my own mistakes, when I can learn from other people’s adventures and perhaps make different choices in a few places.”
“Just so.” Philip was definitely amused now as well. “You did share admirably detailed notes. I was expecting, I don’t know, a page or two and perhaps a letter of introduction.” He considered. There was a glance at his mother and her minute nod. “Not everyone chooses to extend themselves on our behalf.”
Vitus considered the possible answers to that, then he said, feeling his way through and trusting to trained instinct,“One theme of my apprenticeship has been figuring out not only what I wish to do, or which skills I might wish to build, but how to go through the world. Perhaps more than all the lore about the stones and materials and inscriptions.” He nodded once at Alexander. “And as I said, I agree with the idea of sparing a younger brother the discomforts that serve no purpose.”
A little to his surprise, Magistra Landry nodded, an unusual four times, emphasising it. “Just so. You are fortunate, then.” Her eyes moved from Vitus to where he had come from. “I gather you are establishing yourself?”
“A slow one, but that is my aim, yes, Magistra. I was just coming from looking at a possible flat for a workshop, but I’m afraid it wasn’t all I was hoping for.” Vitus gestured with one hand. “Magistra Hall, my apprentice mistress, is glad to share space with me for a while longer, but I do not want to impose on her longer than necessary. And I know she hopes to take another apprentice sooner than later. She has an eye on a few who are entering their last year at Schola, I believe.”
Alexander considered, “I would be glad to call on her, if anything I might share would interest her. I admit I would like to learn a bit more about talisman work, beyond what Ummi has taught us. We have a number of family techniques, mostly for ritual purposes.” He said the last a bit hurriedly, as if he were unsure if it might give offence.
“I’d be glad to speak to her and see if there’s a convenient time. You’re leaving at the beginning of July, then? I will see if she’s free before then, and may I send a message round?”
Alexander reached into his pocket, pulling out a slender calling card case of engraved copper rather than the usual silver. “We’re here to Solstice Eve, then at Arundel through the Faire.” Vitus nodded, glancing at the address, presumably also Magistra Landry’s home, before slipping it into his own pocket.
“Of course. I should be able to send a note around.” The bells chimed, and he’d lost half an hour somewhere. “Oh, my. I should get back. She has a client calling in half an hour, and I can make myself useful fetching and carrying. I do hope we’ll speak again soon.”
“And I.” Philip offered his hand, and Vitus shook it, then Alexander’s. He bowed over Magistra Landry’s, who dismissed him with a slight smile. As Vitus crossed the street, he glanced back to see the three of them continuing south toward, presumably, their further errands.
Chapter21
JUNE 20TH AT BRYN GLAS
“Here, dearest, close your eyes. I want you to try something on.” Thessaly was perched on one of the silk-covered benches in Aunt Metaia’s bedroom, as they were getting ready for the festivities at the Council Keep. Aunt Metaia had been out with the more private Council rites all last night and this morning into the early afternoon. Everyone had retreated to their homes or other suitable places to change for the evening’s formal presentations and dancing. They had an hour before they had to think about leaving, at the least.
Thessaly was already dressed. Collins, Aunt Metaia’s housekeeper and lady’s maid, had put her hair up beautifully, swoops of it gleaming in the light, looking exceedingly elegant. There were flowers to add, the last touch, but those were waiting until just before they left.
The gown was designed for the summer. It had swaths of golden silk, the shades of a perfect sunset, over a deep red underskirt, the bodice shading from gold up to white. She had long silk gloves, perfectly cut and charmed to fit her hands, that would stretch to the puffs of the sleeves. A nearly invisible layer of delicate lace protected her bosom from magical harm. It was the most adult gown she’d worn yet, in some ways. These were not the pastels and demure cuts of a young woman not yet betrothed, in keeping with Albion’s current fashions for that sort of thing.
Aunt Metaia’s gown was a brilliant peacock green over an underskirt shot with silver thread, like the cool beauty of a shimmering pond or a hint of snow on Snowdonia. Not, of course, that the great and looming mountain had snow at the summer solstice. But Aunt Metaia did favour reminding everyone that every season came and went and came again, and that the cycles mattered.
She obediently closed her eyes. “Yes, Aunt?” Behind her, she could feel Aunt Metaia’s presence, the weight and power of her magic, before she felt the brush of silk against silk. Then there were hands reaching around her, and the cold weight of metal against her skin through the lace. A necklace, whatever it was, and much more substantial than she’d expected.
“There. Look at yourself, do.” Aunt Metaia gestured at the mirror in front of them. The necklace was nothing she’d expected. Thessaly brought her fingers up to touch it, a parure of ovals set with garnets. She knew it, of course she knew it. Aunt Metaia wore it regularly. The colour shaded from brighter red nearer the back, to a deep red, the colour of blood, at the front. That was a single larger teardrop garnet, drawing the eye instantly. That wasn’t all, though. She could feel the magic in the piece.
“Aunt Metaia?” Thessaly turned her head. “Mama will think it far too adult.” Though Mama had told her earlier not to bother packing jewellery, her aunt had something for her. “Does she know?”
“She does.” Aunt Metaia let her fingers rest on Thessaly’s bare skin, warmth against warmth. “It’s a talismanic piece. Protection, that’s why it’s garnet. The central piece is one I wore for my challenge. You can wear the pendant on its own, that’s the one with the greatest talismanic work.”
