The Magic of Serran

The Magic of Serran

Frances G. Mantler

Published by Lit-N-Laughter at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 Frances G. Mantler

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 9781927507315

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

About the Author

Dedicated to my Granddaughter, Aurelia

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book wouldn’t have happened with the assistance of my publisher, Heather Mantler at Lit-N-Laughter. The insistence of my pre-readers who wanted to see it in its final state and my family who put up with all my writing over the years as this piece was written and rewritten until I hope I got it right.

Chapter One

Your Majesty shall find Ducagon a very secure and serene place after the starkness of Serran. The rolling green hills shall fill your mind with peace. I am confident you shall learn to love the beautiful countryside. I like landing there. You are very lucky to be getting off that horrible, brown rock. Mr. Grips, Captain Knipter's personal secretary places extreme emphasis the last three words.

Quinta raises her eyebrows, Horrible?

Certainly, our men reported feeling uneasy the whole time they were there. Serran is an awful, hot place and we are all glad to see the end of it. Now Ducagon, where you are going, is much nicer; green and alive. One feels good just being there. Not that we stay for long. Traders never remain anywhere long.

Quinta silently shakes her head while Mr. Grips continues to speak without glancing in her direction. I am sure you shall be happy there. No bride has ever left Ducagon although most have had it written into their marriage contracts.

A light knock on the door disturbs the moment of silence following this final assertion. The guard snaps to attention when Captain Knipter steps into the room, Captain.

Mr. Grips leaps to his feet and salutes but Quinta remains seated on the molded but cushioned bench. How is our passenger today? The captain glances at his secretary for the reply.

Mr. Grips opens his lips but Quinta’s firm tone claims their attention. Tired, I have found the past two days exhausting. If I could be left alone to rest, I would appreciate it.

Certainly Quinta, your meals will be delivered at the regular times. Captain Knipter jumps at the command in her voice but recovers quickly. Waving his secretary out, he waits for his servant to go before asking. Is there anything else you need?

Just reassurance that Serran is safe from further invasion, Quinta’s voice softens leaving the icy blueness of her eyes to reveal the depths of her anger.

The Captain unaware of the nature of her telltale eyes, smiles then slows his speech as if she were a child. Quinta, your marriage contract states that we will not land on your world unless you are to be returned. The Regon of Ducagon and we, his free Traders, are strictly formal in our dealings. All contracts are carried out to the letter.

This Regon, who is he?

The Regon of Ducagon is the supreme leader of Ducagon and also the legal ruler of the Traders, although he allows us to trade freely when we have fulfilled our duties to him.

Duties as in contracting brides from other worlds? A glint springs into her eyes.

Among other duties, Ducagon seems to have a hard time producing enough female children to meet its needs. There are conditions, such as all brides must be physically compatible and not from worlds of certain reputations.

What is this Regon like? She drops her eyes to the floor.

Captain Knipter smiles, Do not worry about the Regon, you are only likely to meet him once. The Captain manages a weak smile feeling more confident out of her line of vision.

Once! It was my understanding that my position in the leadership of Serran would result in a marriage into the royal house of Ducagon. He steps backward as the hard glint of ice blue eyes dart upward.

The Regon is already married and the men of Ducagon take only one wife at a time. Captain Knipter informs her then hastens to add, The Regon's son and grandson are not. His son, whose title is the Regath, is a widower and his grandson, the Regal, has just reached marrying age. Quinta waits with her eyebrows slightly raised. You will probably marry the Regath since I have been advised the Regal’s bride has already been chosen. The Trader’s words crowd together in his race to appease her, but his unease causes him to shuffle backward towards the door. I am tiring you. I will visit again before we land, but for now, you should rest. Inform the guard should you need anything. The Captain bows, disappearing out the door before she can open her mouth.

Thank you, Captain. Quinta inclines her head in the direction of at his retreat.

Quinta’s left-hand rises to touch the rigid muscles the back of her neck, they barely flex under her pressure of her fingertips. She leans back against the wall as a parade of recent events march through her mind: The traders' ships descending out of the purple evening sky with their demands for marriage contracts, the panic of the ruling council, her own intervention between councillors and Traders with the offer to go in place of the young women of Serran, the strenuous objections of those same councillors to her departure and her own insistence that the law of Narath applied.

A faint vibration from a pendant that hangs under her dress causes Quinta to reach her right hand up to finger its translucent green crystal. A small but deep voice speaks soothing words into her mind. Trust your teaching ability. Serran has good, capable people.

The Narath, Quinta allows her mind to rest briefly on her old teacher, had not interfered with the Traders. Her eyebrows pucker at this new idea. He wants me to go, the possibility spins Quinta’s thoughts in an unexpected direction and the tension seeps out of her.

Your supper, my lady, The guard says as he places a tray beside her. Quinta eats the food in silence.

Once her meal is finished, she glances toward the guard. Is there a more comfortable place to sleep?

Yes my lady, this way. He directs her without making eye contact into the second room of the suite and opens a long narrow drawer with a downward motion and a long bench hangs from the wall. Quinta notes it has two layers of blankets for coverings.

Thank you. She says. With a nod, he returns to the outer room. Glancing around she frowns, she has no idea where to find her belongings, without an acceptable alternative, she lays down wearing her clothes. Her hand automatically reaching for her pendant, Quinta relaxes as peace seeps through her. The voice, inside her head whispers; sleep well.

When the guard calls her for breakfast, Quinta does not stir at the sound of his voice. The guard frowns but refrains from touching her. He speaks louder then waits a moment before stepping back into the outside room and sending her uneaten meal back to the galley.

The guards, without orders to the contrary, do nothing more than call out to disturb Quinta for two days before the chief guard reports her unconscious state to his immediate supervisor who listens closely. Has her colour changed? Does she look ill?

The guard considers this for a moment. Actually, she looks very peaceful.

Unless there is a change in her health let her sleep until the Captain wants to speak with her. The Trader dismisses the guard. It may be a minor adaptation to space travel.

Unaware of their concern, Quinta sleeps for another ten days. Captain Knipter finally knocks and is admitted by the guard. Captain, sir, do you wish me to wake the lady?

Is her sleeping pattern out of sync with the rest of the ship? Quinta stirs slightly at the drawl of the captain. How long has she slept? The jolt of the near yell jerks her mind from the dark mist that cocoons her in its depth.

A lower voice replies, but, Quinta hears only a murmuring sound.

This should have been reported directly to me? The captain’s growl nearly vibrates the walls. Quinta stands up and stretches. Stopping long enough to wash her face in an attempt to shake the feeling of grogginess, Quinta enters the next room where the livid captain focuses on the red-faced guard.

Captain Knipter bellows at the guard. What if she has died…?

Please do not yell, Captain, I can hear you perfectly well. Quinta speaks quietly, her words cutting through the air to penetrate the Captain's ire.

Captain Knipter spins abruptly in her direction. He notes the correct posture of her smaller stature and lowers his voice. Excuse me, Quinta, but I have already announced your arrival. Regon made it clear he holds me personally responsible for your safe delivery.

Perfectly understandable, still the guard acted correctly, I feel refreshed now. Quinta hides a fully-fledged laugh in her dark blue eyes by leaning down to smooth a wrinkle from her skirt.

I must say you do look better. Captain Knipter agrees, wondering if he imagined her coldness at their last meeting. Now alas, I must put you to work.

Quinta's dark blue eyes twinkle as she straightens. What kind of work do you require?

I have five days to teach you everything a Ducan bride must know.

Is it a great deal? Quinta seats herself on the bench.

Quinta, I do not know where you learnt it but your grasp of the Traders language is excellent. Still the Regon asks us to teach all new brides some very basic Ducan. Captain Knipter clears his throat. I can speak Ducan but with difficulty so you will have to listen carefully.

Quinta ignores his directions to say. Captain, I doubt the necessity…

Captain Knipter stiffens. You refuse to learn?

Quinta shakes her head. No, go ahead speak to me in Ducan.

Re-clearing his throat, Captain Knipter slurs. On Ducagon, wives talk only to their husbands and personal staff.

Answering in far superior Ducan, Quinta replies. That must make communicating with their children difficult?

Captain Knipter and the guard gasp. The captain appears to have trouble speaking for a moment. You speak Ducan? Captain Knipter finally chokes out.

I speak many languages. Quinta continues in Ducan. The Captain pales slightly.

After waiting a few minutes, Quinta asks. Is there anything else I should know?

Captain Knipter shakes his head. Wives lead very secluded lives on Ducagon. You would not want to tell me where you learnt Ducan?

I spent my childhood studying many languages, Quinta speaks quietly.

Captain Knipter frowns with his eyes but his facial features seem frozen. If you can communicate in the language that is the limit of my responsibilities, we land in five days, I will personal escort you to the Regon. He rushes from the room.

Quinta frowns at the guard who answers her unspoken question. If you were not already promised to the Regon, he would keep you. Our most ongoing problems relate to the languages that we must know to negotiate contracts.

Over the next five days, the guards say nothing to Quinta. She spends her time either in silent contemplation or sleeping in the other room.

On the day Captain Knipter has predicted they would land, the guard shows Quinta how to strap herself to the bench to prepare herself for landing. He straps himself to the two hooks on the otherwise smooth wall behind his regular post.

The landing is smooth and Quinta releases herself as the guard releases himself. She waits a long time for Captain Knipter to escort her off the ship.

The ship is secured. Are you ready to go? Your baggage is already on the cart. He responds to her glance around the room. Quinta stops to drape a full-length black cloak around her shoulders and pulls the hood over her hair partially covering her face.

Captain Knipter offers his arm. We must not keep Regon waiting.

Laying her hand on top of the captain’s arm, Quinta allows him to lead the way. They depart the ship via the same route as she entered. The few guards and Trader they meet immediately glance away from her. Outside of the ship the captain helps her onto a one-axle cart pulled by two large, brawny, four-legged creatures whose horns seem longer than their heads. Once Quinta sits on a stack of folded blankets, the captain speaks to the driver who sits astride one of the beasts and the cart begins to move.

Quinta allows her eyes to roll over the flatten hills clothed in various shades of green. Bright coloured grasses cover the nearer hills while more distant hills are garbed larger dark green plants. The exception is a small mountain straight ahead of them which is crowned by solid looking brown and black buildings whose distance gives them the appearance of playroom blocks. The cart slowly jolts back and forth as they move toward the buildings.

Captain Knipter watches Quinta's expressions as she observes the scenery. Regadon was built by the father of the present Regon. If you are very observant, you will notice that two walled compounds face each other. The one on the right contains Regadon, the royal court, and other is the city that services it. Rather impressive, is it not?

Her only response is a shrug but she reacts more to his satisfaction as the cart rolls closer. The scale of the place becomes apparent when Quinta realizes that the small beings that moving between the two compounds are people.

They are still quite a distance away when the Captain leans toward her and whispers softly. I must say good-bye now. It would not do to speak to you in front these people. I hope you will be comfortable. If they break the contract, you will have to get in touch with me.

Good-bye, Captain. Quinta concentrates on the buildings.

They maintain silence while the cart enters the large square formed by the two large stone walls each with its own metal, barred gate, one to Regadon and one to the city. The two other sides of the square are open to the countryside but once between the massive structures, Quinta feels hemmed in by the wooden market stalls and the throng of people as the cart slows amid the noise and confusion of hawkers and haggling shoppers. Just before the gate to Regadon the vehicle stops altogether, Captain Knipter jumps down and turns to steady Quinta with his hand as she stands and steps down off the cart. Leading her through the gates on their right, the noise diminishes but now she sees uniformed guards who watch their approach. Quinta notes that the inside of the walls are lined with many buildings but the center of the compound is completely taken up with a single edifice. Captain Knipter directs Quinta toward that imposing structure.

Six columns support an extension of the roof, which shades broad stone steps, and it is up these steps that Captain Knipter escorts her. Once they pass the massive ornately carved doors, Quinta finds herself in a hall larger than the sum of Serran’s buildings. Many people stand or sit, some shift restlessly while others lounge but all with their attention is towards two men who sit on a raised dais at the far end of the room. Captain Knipter ignores the supplicants and bystanders to present himself and Quinta directly before the dais.

When the eyes of the man in the center seat on the dais, which contains seating for three, falls on the captain, the Trader makes an elaborate bow. The man claps his hands. At this signal, the whole hall clears, some people by the main doors and others by side doors, which are, at the clapping signal, thrown open and he waits for the last person to leave before he speaks.

Captain Knipter, is this the lady of your messages?

Yes Regon, may I present the Quinta of Serran. Quinta, this is the Regon of Ducagon. Captain Knipter having completed this introduction bows again and departs.

Quinta, I wish to see your face, Regon orders in the Traders language.

Reaching up with one hand, Quinta pushes her hood back to reveal a face every much like his own. Her skin is paler but not with ill health. Her eyes are dark blue under thin eyebrows, which only arch slightly but otherwise run in a straight line towards her temple. Her other features are small and in excellent proportion to each other. Even her gold-red hair does not distract from the piercing blue eyes, which take in every detail. Regon’s companion shifts uneasily in his chair.

Grandfather, this is dangerous.

His grandfather waves him off. Regal, go check that her apartment at the Family House is ready. He orders in Ducan as he smiles at Quinta.

His companion rises from his place on the dais and exits the hall by a side door. Her dark blue eyes turn to the colour of ice as she turns her attention to the Regon. And precisely what does he mean? What is dangerous? She asks in perfect Ducan.

The Regon pales slightly. Captain Knipter was to teach you only a few words of Ducan.

With his pronunciation, I doubt he could have taught me that much. Her eyes lock onto his grey ones. Only long practice allows him to avoid squirming against the icy glint that pins him to his chair.

Where did you learn it? The Regon trembles as he ignores her question.

Serran, I have lived nowhere else. I speak Ducan along with Ven, Valen, Mallenchian and dozens of other languages. Captain Knipter seems to think my command of languages remarkable. Now I ask you again, that did your grandson mean? Her tone demands an answer.

Regon swallows and takes some time to recover his composure. I will not answer because you have no reference to the situation in this world and any answer I give would demand long explanation.

Quinta allows her eyebrows to rise slowly but she changes subjects. Where is my bridegroom? He, again, feels pinned to the chair by ice blue eyes.

My son travels Ducagon to gather information and listen to requests of those who live far from Regadon. I have sent a message and he will return in good time. His back stiffens along with his expression.

What is a Family house? And why do I have to stay there?

The Family house was built by my father for my sisters. It is the only place where an unmarried female of my family may live in Regadon. It is secure and temporary. He almost manages a smile under her stare.

And you believe that this is allowable under my marriage contract?

In his transmission, Captain Knipter said there was nothing that prohibited it. Regon answers.

After a slight pause, Quinta tilts her head to one side and smiles. Her eyebrows rise. You have not read the contract for yourself.

I do not have time to read the paperwork of every trading deal. The captain assures me that time is not a consideration in your marriage agreement.

Quinta considers for some time before speaking. According to the terms of the contract, I retain the duty and the technology to contact my people to give advice and assistance in whatever form I am able. I do not want there to be any misunderstanding should my possession of a transmitter be brought to your attention.

Regon sits up. Why would you demand that?

I am the head of the ruling council of Serran and the councillors resisted my attempts to make them responsible for the authority they wield. They insisted on retaining access to my services.

You are the head of the ruling Council of Serran. Regon speaks slowly as he sits back down then asks. Why not just appoint another ruler before you left?

I am the last of my family and no other individual that has the confidence of our rather diverse population. To appoint a successor would plunge Serran into a never-ending civil war. I retain the right to speak to my people.

How come the Serrans would send you, if you were needed? His brow wrinkles and a puzzled expression shows on his face.

Our laws forbid coercing man or woman into marriage. As the guardian of the children of Serran, my duty is to protect young women from illicit dealings. To protect my wards from the Traders’ illegal demands, I volunteered to come. Her ever-changing eyes lighten again.

You could have asked for a volunteer. I have trouble believing your story.

Whether you believe the truth or not is not my concern. I will retain my transmitter. She answers.

Regon shakes his head and turns his eyes away from hers. On Ducagon, the people serve their leaders.

Then it is probably just as well that I came to Ducagon instead of you coming to Serran. Her amusement becomes more and more evident.

You believe I lack knowledge of what my people want?

You live behind the strong walls of a fortress. Your people lack daughters and your Traders bully other worlds to supply brides. Your hall is filled with supplicants so you must give them some satisfaction. Her expressive eyes darken as the smile still hovers on her lips.

These walls keep out those who would destroy the stability of my government. Regon snaps showing his irritation at her humour.

So paradise is not serene. Quinta's eyebrows rise as her eyes continue to darken.

Regon frowns, Paradise?

Ducagon was a green paradise, which is why no bride ever leaves it. Quinta waves a hand to dismiss the Captain's secretary. Or so I was informed.

You were not supposed to speak to the Traders. Ducan brides are under contract to their husbands and are not allowed... Regon’s growl is interrupted.

Until you produce a bridegroom, I am not a bride. Quinta points out.

My son will be here by the time of the mid-winter festival until then you are not to speak to any man.

Quinta interrupts. How long is it until mid-winter?

Regon sighs but says nothing.

Regon, I will speak to my people through my transmitter. Whether or not I talk to males here depends on the circumstances in which I live and that rests entirely with you.

Regon's face becomes solemn. Your marriage contract…

Was amended by the ruling council of Serran, I will fulfill my obligations, in exchange, I must insist you respect yours. Quinta assures him.

Regon is about to answer when the Regal returns. Her belongings have been delivered to the Family House. Grandfather, are you certain this is a good idea?

Regal hush, Quinta is fluent in Ducan.

The Regal stops in his tracks. Captain Knipter had orders to teach her basic…

She speaks it fluently. His grandfather warns.

Can you actually speak Ducan? Regal faces Quinta.

On what topic would you like to converse? Quinta watches the Regal pale.

It is magic. He whispers. You are a magician.

Quinta laughs, Magicians use slight-of-hand tricks to fool the eyes, it is not my habit to lie to anyone.

Regon frowns. The practice of magic on Ducagon is strictly illegal.

If you will provide a legal definition of magic, I will heed the warning. Quinta answers with a smile in her voice.

Grandfather, did you tell her about Issa? Regal only realizes his mistake when his grandfather repeats his signal to hush.

My grandson forgets himself. It is time for you to go to the Family House.

Both men escort Quinta out the great doors and around the corner of the building away from the main gate, their destination is a small fenced compound built against the main structure.

This, Quinta, is the Family house built as I said for my five sisters. Since my grandson has already mentioned her, I will tell you that Issa, my grandson's bride-to-be, is also living here but she has a separate apartment. She is looked after by two servants. One of those servants belongs to my household; the Widow Maris will bring your meals. Most brides of rank bring their own servants.

Quinta's eyes twinkle. Which would have negated my goal in coming, I can survive without a servant.

Regal motions to his grandfather and leads them both to one of the five doors in the small compound.

This is your apartment. We hope you will be comfortable until the Regath's return. If you require anything, send a message through the woman who brings your meals.

Regon tilts his head in a polite nod as Regal bows before they both leave. Quinta glances around the small compound before entering the apartment. Dark outer walls with equally dark curtains at the windows repeat in five uniform semi-attached dwellings. Nothing suggests that one of them is occupied.

Chapter Two

Entering her assigned apartment, Quinta pauses to adjust to a musky closeness in the dark room. Her bags are out of sight, but the room is completely open. The furniture consists mainly of chair-sized cushions and small tables. A whisper of something runs up her spine Quinta merely stands still until the feeling dissipates. She walks the room looking for the source of the unease yet nothing moves. The back wall of the apartment has a counter running its length; sitting in sight is a tray with a pitcher and tall glasses. A rail on the far right side of the room catches her eye, investigating Quinta finds stairs leading to an upper room. She goes upstairs, where she finds her bags, a small table under the window and a padded platform covered with blankets for sleeping.

Sitting on the bed, Quinta takes the transmitter from her bags and sets it on the table.

This is the Quinta. I have arrived at my destination and retain the transmitter. Who is listening?

Tomas, speaking, Quinta, the Valen refuse to take part in the harvest. Shori and the children have volunteered to do the greater part of the work.

Tell the council that I order anyone who wishes to eat next winter to work, Quinta orders. What time is the next council meeting?

In a few hours.

Bring the transmitter to the meeting, touch the green button on its side and I will take part in the discussion. I will try to convince them of their folly.

Thank you, Quinta. The line goes dead.

Quinta picks up a pillow and hugs it to her chest. Rolling back on the sleeping platform, she curls up and she falls asleep.

The bang of a door downstairs wakes Quinta and she slowly rises to investigate. All she finds is a tray with a dish of thin soup and a large bun. Quinta tastes the soup before going upstairs. She returns with a small jar of seasonings, she shakes a little of its contents into the soup. She eats slowly.

A beeping from the transmitter takes her back upstairs. Quinta runs up the stairs to answer. This is Quinta. She presses the button and speaks.

The council has disbanded. The Valen refuse to co-operate anyone else. Tomas went into hiding after the Valen threatened his life. They refuse to listen to anyone through a box. A different voice speaks.

Mic, take the transmitter to Shori. The members of the council have rejected my leadership. Tell Shori to contact me should she require assistance.

The rest of us ask that you maintain your leadership, we fear the consequences of the council’s actions.

Then take your concerns to Shori, she will be my go-between. I remind you that she does not have my abilities and cannot be responsible to or for the Narath. Tell her I wish her to keep regular contact.

Yes, Quinta, Silence follows these final words.

Quinta glances around the dark room and frowns. Going downstairs, she pushes back the curtains to sit by the window watching the courtyard. The light outside is still bright when Quinta sees two elderly women leave the apartment directly across from her down and walk at a brisk pace toward the gate. One woman breaks away from the first, seconds later the door of Quinta’s apartment bursts open and the woman, moving as fast as she can, grabs the tray and leaves but even at this rate of speed the other’s voice calls. Hurry, it is getting late.

Quinta is too shocked by the woman's haste to object. She does, however, look out the window and watch as the two women fairly trot to the gate, which they open and then slam shut once they go through. They stop only long enough to lock it behind them. Pondering such strange behaviour, Quinta spends the evening watching the courtyard. The sun sets directly behind Quinta's apartment; she notes how the rays of the sun colour the opposing apartment pink and orange.

As it darkens, she closes the curtains and stretches before going upstairs to change into her sleeping gown. Letting down her hair, Quinta begins to brush it changing the upswept style to a simple braid; finally, she turns out the light and goes to the window. Looking out to view the stars she is startled that the apartment across the courtyard is bathed in bright yellowish light that completely overpowers the night sky. What? Quinta speaks the word out aloud but it merely bounces off the glass and returns to her.

Continuuing to observing the scene, Quinta sees Regal in a third story window leaning on the sill watching over the apartment below. Stunned Quinta backs up until she sits on the bed. Finally, she shrugs and crawls between the blankets.

Bright light shining in her face wakes Quinta, she pulls blankets over her face realizing that the sun rises directly in line with her bed and she has left the curtain partway open. Rising slowly, Quinta shuts out the brilliance.

She touches the transmitter. This is Quinta, Shori, please answer. There is no answer. Quinta goes downstairs to meet the woman who brings her food tray.

Taking up her post at the front window, she watches as the sunlight slowly lights up the shadows of the courtyard. It was only after the sun is nearly a quarter of the way through the sky that the two old women come to the gate, one holds the trays while the other peeks into any place large enough for someone to hide. It takes many minutes for them to cross the small compound to the apartment door.

Something strikes her as odd about their movements so Quinta moves away from the window as they approach. She sits on the cushion near the table where her meal had been left the previous the night. The woman who carries the tray enters without knocking then places the food down without looking up.

Quinta speaks. Good morning. The woman leaps a full inch. I sorry if I frightened you, I only wished to meet you. Quinta stands to examine the shaking servant.

Goodness, my lady, I did not expect you to be out of bed this early. Recovering quickly, the servant bows. Like all the Ducan she met so far this woman has light brown skin with black hair and dark-grey eyes. Quinta stands a few inches shorter than the Ducan woman. I left my curtain open and the sun woke me. I wished to meet you.

Yes my lady, I am the Widow Maris. I received my orders concerning you yesterday. We have two meals a day, breakfast which is usually a pastry filled with fruit and nuts, and supper which changes daily, if there is anything you refuse to eat, I can change it, just ask. The woman ends breathlessly.

Nodding, Quinta replies. I am the Quinta of Serran.

The Widow Maris shakes her head. I would not make a habit of telling people that last part if I was you. Some of the people resent having to get brides from other planets. I will come back for the tray in the late afternoon and bring your supper at the same time. I may not stay. I am obligated to spend the day with Issa.

Yes, Regon, mentioned her. Please, do not keep her waiting.

The Widow Maris bows again and leaves quickly.

After the servant leaves Quinta eats her pastry then goes upstairs to touch the transmitter. Shori? There still is no answer, lacking anything else she searches through her baggage for some handicrafts. Coming back down, she sits in the light from the window and works away on a small loom no more than a hand-span wide. She adds a little less than the width of her spread fingers when the Widow Maris returns with her supper tray.

Glancing up from the loom as the Widow enters Quinta nods. The servant comments, I brought your dinner, my lady. She sets the tray down and looks over to where Quinta works. Oh my, what beautiful work. And in such colours too. The cupboards in these places are full of the handwork done for the sisters of the Regon, it reminds me of that.

Since my residence is temporary, I have not inspected the closets.

The Widow Maris stops short. I would not expect the Regath soon, my lady, he is not known for dropping things and running home just because his father asks him.

The Regon asks? That was not my impression of the man. A twinkle temporarily darkens Quinta's eyes.

The Widow chuckles, No, he orders, but the Regath has been known to treat Regon’s decrees like requests.

Has Regon not informed him of my arrival? Quinta's smile does not reach her lightening eyes.

That I know nothing about that, what I do know is Ducagon is a huge planet with Houses covering its surface, and Regath travels the length and breadth of it.

So it could be some time before he returns? Quinta hints.

All family heads, including Regath, attend Regon at Regadon for the winter feasts. They set laws and discuss their problems but that is more than two seasons away. I must get back to Issa, she needs settling down and tucking in at night.

Then I will not keep you. Quinta waves the servant out. Going her bags, Quinta withdraws her copy of the marriage contract. Rereading it she now wishes she had placed a time limit among the clauses. She reads through the clauses that remain and counts fifty provisions that call for her return to Serran. The longer I stay in this place, the more likely this contract will be broken. She whispers.

Picking up her spice jar, Quinta returns to her supper tray but as she sits her forefinger comes up to tap the left side of her jaw. After supper Quinta ignores her loom for the evening choosing instead to investigate her surroundings.

Starting upstairs it takes a while to find the closets; their doors are flat and handless, so at first glance, they seem part of the walls. Folding the doors back she finds personal objects scattered as if their owner meant to come back for them. Pots of dried cream sit open and hair brushes still clinging to a few of strands of dark hair lay on the shelf and there are many colourful clothes. Quinta pulls out an article of clothing, a night dress maybe, but all of the clothes are similar. Quinta puts her hand in the one bodice and finds she can see right through it. I wonder what they wore to leave. Quinta whispers to herself.

Packing these clothes into the two bottom shelves, Quinta finds room for her clothes and things on the top three shelves. She finishes unpacking when she hears the servant come and go very quickly. Quinta walks to the window to see the women moving hastily across the compound and quickly out the gate. Quinta strains slightly and catches a glimpse of them walking much slower across the larger compound.

Frowning, Quinta goes and sits on the sleeping platform where that shiver of apprehension returns. The finger returns to tap on her jaw. No Regath, or none quickly, strange behaviour from the servants, and Regal’s off comments. Quinta shakes her head and gets ready for bed. I need information but who could I question aside from the widow?

Quinta goes back to the window and looks out. The only other person here, beside the widows, is Issa. I wonder if I can arrange an audience.

Pausing long enough to check her transmitter, Quinta moves slowly towards the bed then curls up under her blankets, Tomorrow.

Quinta wakes early the next morning and dresses before the widows arrive. Not wanting to look directly into the rising sun, Quinta goes downstairs before looking out the window at the apartment across the way. Regal leans against the windowsill, his face is slack with sleep and his lantern casts a dim light in the dawn.

Quinta picks up her loom from where she left it and sits next to the window to watch as the widows arrive.

First a servant wakes Regal; the lantern is taken in and the window closed.

The next movement that Quinta sees is the widow and her friend as they open the gate and move slowly checking all the corners. Quinta remains by the window this time but when the Widow Maris sets down the tray, she speaks in a pleasant tone.

Good morning, does Issa run away often?

Widow Maris jumps higher than yesterday. Have you seen her out of the apartment?

Oh no, I assumed she must be the subject of your morning search. Quinta hastens to reassure her.

It's a morning security check. I really have to go. The widow starts towards the door.

Did I ask the wrong question? I apologize, please forgive my ignorance.

The widow stops as she reaches the door and turns back. Yes, it must all seem strange to you. Security has been tight here since the Regon's father built the walls. Is there anything you need to be comfortable?

Actually, I am growing bored with my own company, I was wondering if I might meet Issa. It would not contravene any laws, would it?

No, no laws, personally it would give me a break from her constant questions.

Questions, what kinds of things does she ask?

She is impatient to get married. She keeps asking how much longer she has to wait.

How old is Issa? Quinta frowns.

Fully grown, exactly how old I cannot say but she has been here coming for ten years and she was already running and talking then she came.

What does she do all day besides ask questions?

Nothing much really, she reads a little. In any other house, she would be married by now but Regath has other ideas.

What has the Regath to do with Issa? I thought she was Regal's wife-to-be.

Oh, she is but Regath is her guardian, just as you are under Regon's guardianship until you marry Regath.

Quinta nods her understanding. Would you mind if I came and met Issa?

I have to check with the Widow Norland. While I made my pledge to Issa's father that I would help look after her, the Widow Norland serves Regath, and Regath is Issa’s guardian, so her authority overrides mine.

Then I will wait to hear from you. I shall not detain you any longer. Quinta dismisses the servant.

The widow hurries across the compound and Quinta returns to her weaving.

Quinta spends the day working at her loom and is surprised when the servant who brings her supper stops and stares at her.

Yes, may I help you? Quinta glances up expecting to see the Widow Maris but another stern-faced older woman stands there.

I understand you requested to meet Issa. This woman is even taller than her counterpart and stands straighter than the Widow Maris. Quinta frowns as a dark shimmer that hangs about the woman.

I hoped I might since she is my only neighbour.

I have Regath's charge concerning her and I decide whether she can have visitors. I refuse to have my charge corrupted. The woman's upper lip curls.

Quinta straightens her already perfect posture. Why would you object, I may one day be your mistress?

The laws of Ducagon make it possible for the Regon to force his son to marry anyone of his choosing but that does not mean I have to admit them to Issa's apartment. The woman speaks through clenched teeth.

Quinta takes a deep breath. You have the right to deny to a visit. Still I received the impression from Widow Maris was that such a distraction might be beneficial for you as well.

I can take care of my charge without interference, thank you. The Widow Norland spins on her heel and departs.

Quinta frowns deeply as the door shuts behind the widow. Standing, she paces the room then she shakes her head. This is not Serran. I must not interfere. Regon is the ruler here. She distracts herself with other things. For ten days she works her weaving project, plays music on her pipes and lives quietly as she never did on Serran. Her biggest concern is the transmitter remains unanswered despite her attempts to call Shori twice daily.

The Widow Maris delivers her meals as per schedule, regularly asking if there was anything she needs but the idea of Quinta visiting Issa is absent.

One night after the widows had departed, Quinta sits braiding some twisted yarn for a decorative trim when a scream pierces the night. In an automatic reflex, Quinta drops her work and steps outside to locate the source of the distressful cry. Please go to her, I am forbidden. Quinta glances up to see the Regal leaning out the window over Issa's apartment.

Sensing his urgency, Quinta rushes to the apartment. She tries the door handle to find it unlocked. The faint sound of crying leads Quinta to the bottom of the stairs.

Mounting the stairs, she slows down as she approaches the top step, as she does not wish to scare the girl further. Issa, Issa. Are you hurt? Quinta keeps her voice soft and low.

There is no answer. Issa, Regal requested I check on you. How are you?

A sweet but shaky voice whispers in the darkness. The Regal, where did you see the Regal?

He spends his nights leaning on the window ledge right above this apartment. He heard you scream and when I stepped into the compound to investigate the noise he asked if I would check on your distress.

Quinta hears a soft sob. I am so frightened. They came in my dreams. It was awful.

The only person here is me and I will not harm you. Is there a lantern in the room? Seeing me might reassure you. Quinta moves toward the muffled sobs.

On the table by the window, the widows think it is too dangerous to leave it lit.

Quinta steps to where the table sits in the upper room of her apartment and she finds everything in the same place. Lighting the lantern she adjusts the glare so it is weak enough for Issa’s light-deprived eyes

Now are you convinced I am harmless? Quinta steps back to where the light shines on her.

Issa's pale and tear-streaked face, framed by thick ebony hair, lightens. The girl frowns. Who are you?

I am the Quinta of Serran. The girl stops sobbing as she is startled by the pale skin framed by gold-red hair that is so foreign to her. I have been in the apartment across the compound for some time. The Regon means to marry me to the Regath when he returns.

Norland did not even tell me you were there. Issa starts to sob again. They never said anything.

Sitting at the end of the bed Quinta smiles, Regal informed me you were here the night I arrived. The Widow Norland rejected my request to visit because I might be improper company for you.

Trust her, she refuses me everything. Issa attempts to brush back her tears. Where is Serran? I have not heard of a House by that name.

Serran is some distance by starship. The Trader Captain did not reveal his secrets of navigation to me.

You are really from off Ducagon? Dumb question the hair should have given it away but I see so few people. I never met anyone who traveled that far before, that was it like?

Quinta shrugs, I spent my time in a windowless room with built in furniture and I slept most of the way.

Nothing is ever as you imagine. I used to dream of traveling to the stars but I always saw every last one. Issa winds her arms around her thin body.

Where are you from Issa? Quinta notes an unnatural pallor in the girl's skin.

The House of Gowan, my Father is Gowan, Overseer of the Mountains and one of the most important allies Regon has. Here on Ducagon that is.

Quinta nods her head. You never go outside?

No, Father forbids it. Sometimes it seems everybody gets to make rules but me. Did you really meet the Regal? Issa's eyes light up.

I have spoken with him twice. Once upon the day I arrived and once just now. Why?

What is he like? Issa almost whispers.

Quinta frowns. You have never met him?

Issa shakes her head. When I came I was very young. I remember the Regon and the Regath but not the Regal. Issa's eyes drop to the blanket in front of her.

He is quite young, but tall and broad shouldered. He has black hair, even features. Quinta closes her eyes for a minute. He seemed well-mannered, slightly impetuous and very concerned about you.

Rewarded with a smile, Quinta senses relief in Issa's voice. He sounds so wonderful, more than I dared hope.

Now maybe you can put your bad dream behind you and think about pleasanter things. Quinta moves forward to tuck the girl back into bed.

Issa lies back in the bed. I probably would not have had the dream but Widow Norland read me that horrid story to keep me in bed. You would think living in this place is bad enough.

Take courage, you are not alone here. I am just across the compound at least until Regath returns.

Sometimes I think he stays away so Regon cannot force him into allowing our marriage. He has some strong opinions about people getting married too young. I have waited twice as long as my father said. At first Regath insisted I be educated. I am the only female in my family who has ever learned to read and write. Now he just stays away.

Are there many books on Ducagon? Quinta asks in an idle sort of way.

Issa sighs, I have a whole shelf full of them downstairs, mostly histories, some of it is interesting but I have read them all so many times.

I would like to read Ducan. It might help me understand this world.

You could read them but Norland usually gets her way. Issa giggles. It would be fun to have a friend she does not control. You could come over after they leave. Quinta watches Issa’s eyes twinkle. Please, you could bring the books up here and they would never know.

What if they return some night?

Issa's laugh is brittle with bitterness, They never come back at night not even when I am ill. ‘It is not in our orders.’ Issa does a close impression of the Widow Norland's voice.

Quinta smiles, You might let slip our secret and cause trouble.

Never, I will be so sulky they will be glad to get out of here. Issa raises two fingers on her right hand. Please, I promise not to cause you any trouble.

After a long silence, Quinta nods in agreement. If someone informs Regon we may be required to stop.

Thank you, I promise by the time we are finished you will have read Ducan’s entire history. Issa almost vibrates with suppressed excitement.

Providing Regath does not surprise everyone by returning early. Quinta adds a provision.

Not likely, he hates to be cooped up at Regadon and that is what Regon will demand after he gets married. The openness of Issa's expression causes Quinta to smile although red welling up in her cheeks suggests Issa realizes she has spoken inappropriately.

Your sleep has been interrupted, you need to rest. Quinta allows Issa to see laughter in her eye so the girl would know that Quinta does not hold the statement against her.

You promise to come tomorrow after the widows leave. Issa pleads.

I promise to come so long as you protect our visits with your silence. Quinta moves to the top of the stairs. Sweet dreams, Issa.

Walking back across the compound Quinta is again addressed by Regal. How is she?

Quinta turns to look up at him. She has recovered from her nightmare.

It is this place if my father were here I would force him to let us get married so she did not have to be here anymore. The Regal's shoulders sag as if he does not believe his own words.

She convinced me to visit after the widows leave for the day. How difficult will Regon be if our socializing becomes known? Quinta tries to convey her understanding.

You mean without Norland's permission? The Regal blinks then brightens.

Quinta nods.

There will be plenty of trouble but from my father, not grandfather. Father has transferred his authority over to the widow. Regal throws his hands up. I suppose that means you will stay away and she will be alone again.

No, I promised. I never break a promise except if circumstances change so the promise becomes a burden to the other party rather than the help they require.

You will risk father's wrath to keep your promise? The Regal raises his eyebrows.

Regal tell me honestly, will your father be happy when your grandfather presents me as his bride? Quinta answers his question with a question watching his face as she does so.

No, honestly I think he will be very angry. His expression becomes guarded.

Then I might as well deserve his wrath since I will receive it? Quinta notes the change in his expression as the Regal finally understands her.

The Regal almost laughs, Good night Quinta.

Good night. Quinta finishes the journey to her apartment.

She goes upstairs to check the transmitter but still there is no answer.

The next night, Quinta picks a red book off the shelf and takes it up to Issa. Issa is sitting up in bed waiting. I have brought a book. Who is going to read to whom? Quinta asks.

Norland teaches me to read by reading to me, Issa answers so Quinta hands her the book. Issa opens the book to the beginning then glances up at Quinta. I do not usually read aloud.

Then I will sit beside you and we can read together. Quinta offers. Issa moves over. Quinta sits on the edge of the bed.

Issa glances at the book. "In the first year of…Quinta, I cannot remember his name.

Quinta glances over Issa’s shoulder. You have memorized the story but I brought the wrong book. It says: Before the first Regon, the men of the three central plains used to meet at Parnas to exchange daughters to obtain brides for themselves and their sons…

You do not need me to read to you. Issa accuses.

I get tired of my own company and it is your library, Quinta argues.

You are lonely. Issa frowns.

On Serran I had two homes, in one lived two sisters who needed security while they worked with me, the other house held all orphans of Serran and those adults who had dedicated their lives to teaching and training the children, in addition to that I could walk outside and talk to people I meet. Living alone has demanded major adjustments.

Issa pauses. Talk to what kind of people?

Everyone on Serran, Quinta answers. I headed the ruling council of Serran. Everyone had the right to bring their problems to me just as people come to Regadon to speak to Regon.

Were you not frightened of men? Issa whispers.

Actually I was very careful not to give them opportunity to harm me or my helpers but there are other means besides locking yourself stay safe.

Like what?

Quinta slips the sleeve of her dress towards her elbow to reveal a thin knife strapped to her forearm. Being armed and having a reputation for knowing how to use your weapon. She covers the knife. I rarely use it.

Issa nods and turns back to the book. Why is it not the words I know?

I do not know but how about if I teach you using another method? Quinta inquires.

Issa smiles, I would like that.

Chapter Three

You did very well. Quinta congratulates Issa when she reads a chapter without any mistakes. They had spent approximately forty days reading through the book of the ancient history leading up to the appointment of the first Regon.

Thank you, Quinta. But the words lack any excitement.

What is the matter? Quinta puts a hand on Issa's shoulder.

Now I have learned to read I suppose you will want to read on our own; to learn Ducan history and quit spending all your evenings with me. Issa’s eyes drop to the floor.

Quinta laughs, How can we continue with our rebellion against Widow Norland if I read alone in my apartment? That said I would like to borrow books to read during the day.

Issa's face lights up briefly then frowned again, What else can we do?

Do you know any Ducan crafts? I am always willing to learn another handicraft. Quinta refuses to let the girl mope.

Issa shakes her head. No, it is not something they teach Royal wives.

Then would you like to learn a handicraft? I know several.

Like what? Issa's curiosity overrides her depression.

Making articles of clothing, making rope, making perfumes for various uses, making decorations, you tell me what you would like to make and I will try to find a craft that fits.

There is a long hesitation. I have always wanted to have my wedding dress where I could see it. Just so I could really believe I was getting married someday. Widow Norland says the Regath will order it made when he sets a wedding date.

What do you want this wedding dress to look like?

Have you seen the clothes in the closets here? Quinta nods. Well a proper Ducan wedding dress looks like that but it has a light colored lining.

Are there any wedding dresses in any of the cupboards, just so I could see that you mean?

Issa shakes her head.

Then you will have to describe it while I draw.

Can we actually make my wedding dress? Issa brightens as she changes the topic.

If I can get the materials, then yes I think we can, but not tonight. It is time for you to go to sleep.

Issa cuddles under her blankets. Quinta, you are the best friend I have ever had.

Good night Issa. Quinta smiles as she goes downstairs, taking a green book from the shelf she returns to her own apartment.

Leaving the book on a downstairs table, Quinta goes to bed. Getting up early the next morning she sits at the window to read the book. It contains a more recent history of Ducagon, starting with the story of a kidnapped Regath who lead a revolt against his captors and became the leader of a starship.

Quinta breaks off reading and slides the book under her latest craft project as the Widow Maris enters with the breakfast tray. Good morning, my lady.

Good morning Widow Maris, is there any news this morning?

If you mean is of your bridegroom then no. The house of Parlon continues to send warnings about Wadden's Warriors but Parlon has been trying to convince the Regon to send reinforcements for years.

Wadden's Warriors?

Sorry Quinta, since you speak Ducan so well I forget you do not have the background to understand all the news. Never mind, Parlon has been paranoid for years. The widow's words speed up and gush out.

Pausing briefly, Quinta shrugs. How could it affect me? Living behind two locked gates and under the Regon's guardianship should be all the protection anyone needs, right?

Widow Maris' mouth moves but nothing comes out. Quinta pauses but decides that if Issa’s books can answer her questions she should not upset the servants. You should be getting along to Issa.

Quinta spends the next day reading about how the Regath in his new capacity as ship's captain starts to build a trading empire. After his father's death at the hands of people, who object to mining for the dangerous fuel found in the distant mountains of Ducagon, the new Regon is convinced to cut his people off from the mine and the Traders. He limits the ships' landings to an area distant but accessible to Regadon. The mine itself is another landing base but one without any contact with the Ducagon people. Miners from other planets are brought to do the work. Ducagon remains pastoral while the raw products of other lands are available only at Regadon. Local men start trading routes to spread the largesse to the houses and cities of Ducagon.

Quinta returns the book that evening when she visits with Issa. Do you know which book is after the start of the Free Traders?

Issa comes down to the bookcase. She takes another book of the same color binding from the shelf. This one I think. Quinta pauses at the slight shake in the girl's voice.

Quinta puts the book on a table by the door. Now, what is wrong?

The Widow Norland is acting strangely. She has never been friendly but, there is a pause, she questions Maris about you in detail. She is getting more and more upset. I fear for you.

I have dealt with difficult people. She could not be any more challenging than the Valen.

Who are they?

They too mutinied against their Ven masters and took over a starship. The people from the ship became the settlement of Serran. Whenever the leadership of Serran grows weak, they try to get control and then bad things happen. Even among the Valen, there are a few individuals who are shaped by life events to be compassionate and kind. I await the outcome of their struggle.

"Sometimes I wish I was back