Be Welcome to the House of Llinn

Brother Forty-Three's mother lived far enough away from the infirmary that he hired one of the feathered equine-like creatures for transport. Or at least, that was his explanation as he pulled Sera up behind him on the beast. He then took a route through the tree city that even Sera could tell was circuitous, and which involved passing slowly through several populated areas where people stared openly at them. Or rather, at Sister Forty-Six's bandaged and splinted wing.

"You're laying a false trail, aren't you?" Sera commented, once they'd left behind the last of the busy areas and dropped far down until they were flying slightly above the ground. The mount banked to the side and she swallowed a curse as she was forced to hold tight to Brother Forty-Three's waist lest she fall off.

"Yes," the man answered. "It doesn't do any good to hide you at my mother's home if everyone in the city looks for you there."

After a few minutes they left the forest behind, flying out over a large village on the ground and drawing shouts of excitement from the people below that seemed to be more about the mount than Sister Forty-Six's broken wing for a change. Brother Forty-Three directed their mount out over rolling plains until the village was out of sight then had the beast touch down to walk for a bit. It appeared to be just as happy to trot along the ground as it had been to fly.

"I think Six's family lives out around here," Brother Forty-Three observed.

That actually got a response from Sister Forty-Six. For a moment the woman stirred, a tiny flicker of interest in her. After a moment of studying their surroundings, there was a soft sigh of disappointment before the woman curled back in on herself.

"Apparently not," Sera murmured.

An hour or two later, Brother Forty-Three coaxed their mount into the air again, keeping low to the ground again until they reached a road that led back to the forest city. Wagons rattled along below them while they merged with the flow of flying women and mounts skimming along overhead. No one paid any attention to Sera and Brother Forty-Three. Not long after they returned to the trees Brother Forty-Three broke away from the main route, and they wound their way around the outskirts of the city, occasionally passing clusters of buildings as they climbed steadily higher.

Eventually Brother Forty-Three directed the mount down towards what looked like courtyard in the middle of one of the complexes. As she looked over the surrounding buildings, Sera noted that they all shared similar characteristics--white-washed walls, bright blue shutters, and large diamond-panned windows. The buildings were interconnected by covered walkways and delicate bridges with decorative swags of greenery. All the buildings seemed to be in good repair, with the lower ones having smaller windows and doors, the highest level being the most ornate and surrounded by broad balconies and boasting the most windows. A home then, Sera guessed, and probably a very wealthy one.

A group of people in armor were practicing some form of hand-to-hand combat in the courtyard, but that stopped the moment Brother Forty-Three and Sera landed. One of the women called the warriors to attention, then stepped towards the mount, frowning. "Master Oakbranch—err, Brother Forty-Three—we were not told to expect you."

Inside Sera, Sister Forty-Six whimpered unhappily.

"I wasn't expecting to visit," Brother Forty-Three said. He turned to help Sera down and the warrior woman stepped hastily forward to offer her assistance. Raising his voice so that everyone could hear, Brother Forty-Three continued, "This is Sister Forty-Six of the Third Temple. She is considering my request to become my mother's daughter."

The warrior woman's eyes widened and she stepped back and bowed now that Sera was safely on the ground. "Be welcome to the House of Llinn, my lady."

"Please do not mention Sister Forty-Six's presence here—or mine—until this matter is settled. We have not discussed this possibility with the temple yet and do not want to create confusion," Brother Forty-Three said, directing his words towards the warrior woman, but still pitching his voice loudly enough that everyone could here.

"Of course, Master — err, Brother Forty-Three," replied the warrior woman. She turned around to repeat this order to the troops, who shouted their understanding, then sent her troops back to practicing. A couple of the warriors tried to sneak sidelong looks at Brother Forty-Three and his prospective bride, until their sparring partners took advantage of their distraction with easy shots to the head or gut. After that everyone ignored the new arrivals.

Brother Forty-Three slid down off the mount. He glanced up at the main buildings and grimaced. "Let me put the sheryn in the stable, and then I will take you inside to meet Mother."

Sera followed the monk to a long, low building on the right side of the courtyard. It smelled like every stable Sera had ever been in -- hay, dust, and manure--and looked very much the same as well, with ten by ten stalls in two rows, a wide corridor between them, halters and leads hung on the posts and basins for feed and water. Curious sheryn stuck their heads out to peer at the newcomer, giving whickers and snorts in greeting. One particularly impressive looking creature with glossy black feathers that shimmered with hints of purple and green gave Brother Forty-Three's rented mount a baleful look and barred his teeth.

"Calm down, Prince, this poor thing here is just visiting. He'll be gone in a few hours," Brother Forty-Three murmured as he led the borrowed sheryn towards an empty stall at the end of the row. Prince's stall, Sera noted, was twice the size of the others. Obviously he was the prized mount here. "I'll need a few minutes to get this one settled. Stay away from Prince, he bites, but the other sheryn are friendly enough."

Taking the hint, Sera left the monk on his own to tend to their mount and wandered down the aisle, inspecting the sheryn who leaned out of the stalls. Most of them were curious about her bound up wing. One particularly long-necked sheryn with gray and white dappled feathers stretched lipped at Sera's hair and she yelped and jumped away.

'They like to taste things they're curious about,' Sister Forty-Six contributed suddenly. 'Be careful to keep the bandages away from them.'

"Thank you for the warning," Sera murmured.

Sister Forty-Six lifted a hand to scratch the neck of a peacock-blue creature and murmured a bit of nonsense to it, then moved on to the next. Sera withdrew to let the other woman take charge, and they moved down the aisle greeting the sheryn each in turn. When they were as far from Brother Forty-Three as they could get, Sister Forty-Six observed, "Brother Forty-Three is from a noble family."

Sera couldn't argue with that.

'Are you worried they will treat us badly?' she asked.

"They'd never treat a Traveler poorly," Sister Forty Six answered, shaking her head.

'It might be safer not to tell them I'm here,' Sera answered.

"Oh but we have to!" Sister Forty-Six exclaimed. The sheryn startled and she moderated her voice quickly. "My people are farmers. Ground-farmers."

'That's not a good thing?' Sera asked.

"No! My family is unimportant and poor. That's why I joined the temple," Sister Forty-Six whispered, her voice agitated. A plum-colored sheryn stuck her head out and butted them in the chest. Sister Forty-Six calmed as she began to stroke the feathers.

'You joined the temple to improve your family's position?' Sera guessed. Sister Forty-Six shook her head.

"No, I joined because I couldn't find a husband, so I was just a burden on the family," Sister Forty-Six answered.

Sera frowned. 'But, Brother Forty-Three said your people are matrilineal and that his brothers went to live with their wives' families. Wouldn't staying single be less of a burden? A husband means another mouth to feed, and possibly children.'

"Well, yes, but had four springs without a single marriage offer, and I have eight younger sisters," Sister Forty-Six said.

'Why does that matter?' Sera asked.

She could feel the other woman's bafflement as she repeated, "I had four springs. Without a single marriage offer."

'So because no one asked to marry you, you decided to become a nun?' Sera guessed.

"Exactly. I entered the temple last summer. Two of my sisters were finally able to marry this year," Sister Forty-Six explained. "Next year my family will be able to pay a groom-price for my two eldest brothers."

A line from 'Pride and Prejudice' drifted through Sera's memory.

'The younger ones out before the elder are married!'

"Your younger sisters couldn't marry before you did," Sera deduced. She felt the affirmation from Sister Forty-Six. Now Sera understood why Sister Forty Six believed herself to be a burden. Four springs--four years--of knowing none of your siblings could marry until you did had to be enormous pressure, especially when there were eight sisters waiting for their turn.

Wait, EIGHT younger sisters? And there were brothers too? "How many siblings do you have?"

"Seventeen," Sister Forty-Six said.

"Seventeen," Sera repeated in astonishment.

"Well, my family is poor, so Ma and Pa wanted to keep the family small," said Sister Forty-Six.

"Small," Sera repeated.

"How many siblings do you have?" Sister Forty-Six asked.

"One. A brother," Sera answered a bit dazedly, still trying to wrap her head around the idea that eighteen children was a small family. She suddenly understood why that proposed law to limit families to ten children had been newsworthy.

"Oh," said Sister Forty-Six, and a wave of the other woman's sympathy washed over Sera. "Your poor parents must have been heartbroken."

Sera decided now was probably not the time to mention that her parents would have preferred not to have children at all.

"I'm all finished," Brother Forty-Three announced, startling both Sera and Sister Forty-Six. They whirled around jerkily to face him, and their face heated with Sister Forty-Six's embarrassment. The nun gave a mental squeak and fled into the recesses of their collective mind. Sera sighed out loud.

'Hiding won't help,' she informed the other woman.

'Yes it will,' Sister Forty-Six responded, adding a mental raspberry. As Sera laughed, she felt a sheepish smile from Sister Forty-Six. Brother Forty-Three like a man who suspected he was the butt of a joke he hadn't been let in on.

"Lead the way, we'll follow," Sera informed him. The monk drew in a breath as if he meant to say something, but thought better of it.

"This way," he said, and turned the doors they'd entered the stable through.

When Sister Forty-Six did not move, Sera took charge and followed the monk back into the courtyard. He turned towards the main bulk of the . . . house. A wide, sweeping stair led up to colonnade that ran the length of this side of the courtyard, and a pair of gilded gates guarded a recessed entry. Beyond the gates Sera could see what looked like marble floors, thick carpets, and light fixtures with large crystal globes. Paintings hung on the walls and there were enormous vases holding large flowering plants.

It was clearly intended to be impressive, and Sera and Sister Forty-Six were obligingly impressed.

They passed through the gates and down the wide hall, across another corridor, and then climbed up four floors by way of a curving staircase with curving windows opened to an enormous walled garden. At the top of the stairs they arrived in an vast room with soaring arches, more marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and walls painted with panels to look like an extension of the garden outside. Groups of sofas and chairs, clearly expensive, sat on equally expensive carpets.

The entryway had been impressive. This room was downright intimidating.

'Right. Time to meet the lady of the manor and find out if she's as much of an ass as her son,' Sera thought, as much to stir her own courage as for Sister Forty-Six.

"He's not an ass," Sister Forty-Six blurted indignantly.

Behind them there was a derisive snort. Flinching, Sera turned her shared body around to face a woman with the same long, pronounced nose and forest-green skin as Brother Forty-Three. Her hair was a rich plum color streaked with lavender rather than his peacock blue. A feathering of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth and the weight in her gaze that indicated that she was older than the monk or nun. Her mouth had a wry twist to it as she said with amusement, "Oh, he is most certainly an ass, make no mistake about that."