Arri- April 11, 2004

April 11, 2004
Dear Keish,
When you see them, I’m quite sure you’ll agree that Glory and Moonstone are the most beautiful horses in the world.  Moonstone is so smart!  This morning before leaving on his fishing trip Mendel showed me how to teach her to lead.  He took a think, soft rope and wrapped it around her neck and hindquarters.  You hold onto the rope over the foal’s withers.  This prevents any strain on her neck.  A stable hand led Glory outside and Mendel led Moonstone behind her.  Of course, she wanted to follow her mother so she trotted willingly.  Then Mendel handed the rope to me and I tried to duplicate what he had done with the stable hand leading Glory around the corral.  It’s a lot more awkward than it looks.  Mendel patiently corrected me until I had it right.  Then he left us for fishing.
“What do you do with all the fish?” I asked as he picked up his bucket.  It had occurred to me that I had never actually seen any fish.
“Well, river fish are poor man’s food, aren’t they?” he asked with a grin.  “I couldn’t possibly bring them home.”
“But what do you do with them?” I insisted.
“I put them back in the river, or I give them to families who don’t care about society’s opinion,” he stepped in close to me and lowered his voice, “or occasionally I cook and eat them myself next to the river,” he whispered, sounding very amused.
I blinked.  “You must catch a lot of fish,” I said.
“Very few actually,” Mendel said seriously.  “The fishing on Dutson River is terrible.”  He sighed and shifted his fishing pole against his shoulder.  “One day I expect I’ll have to give it up and find a bigger river.”
And he left with me feeling more confused than ever.  Keish, I am certain that Mendel is not fishing.  But what else could he be doing?
I went to visit Cook and her husband for lunch.  Of course it doesn’t make sense to call her “Cook” anymore now that she isn’t working for Uncle Winthrop.  Still it felt awkward called her Mrs. Gebra.  Lazuse was there and asked about Liop.  Nacks was also present and as usual said no more than was required.  He hasn’t been able to find work since we left and so he’s staying with the Gebras.  Mrs. Gebra says their yard has never been better tended.
I spent most of this evening expecting Imato to arrive any minute, but it’s after ten now and he still isn’t here.  I hope nothing is wrong.
April 12
Last night after I finished writing you, I decided to open the Chronicle and read until I was sleepy.  The Chronicle nearly always opens up to historical pieces.  Most of them are very dry reading and I’ve fallen asleep reading several of them.  My mind was restless.  Imato wasn’t entirely sure that he would make it to Odsreq on the twelfth, so there wasn’t any real reason to be concerned.  Still, I wanted him to arrive quickly.  I decided I would take him straight to the Westridges to see Moonstone no matter what time he arrived.
I needed to quiet my mind so I opened the Chronicle.  But it didn’t open to the history pages.  Instead it opened to a spell.  It was a spell for tracking people.
I sat up in surprise.  It was a fairly complex spell, requiring several herbs and two objects.  Still, there was nothing unusual about the herbs.  I had all of them in my satchel.  Nysa helped me put together a kit for spell-casting and told me to keep it with me at all times.  Rosehips were the main ingredient.  The cooking had some tricky time requirements, rather more complicated than the tea I made to trap the griffin last year.  The strength of the spell was entirely dependent on the strength of the magician.
The first object required was something belonging to the person you wanted to track.  That was simple.  Mendel loaned me a book about training foals the day after Moonstone was born.  I still had it.  The second object was optional.  It was a felt hat for casting a concealment charm.  The purpose of the charm was to make the tracker difficult for the person being tracked to see.  I didn’t have a felt hat, but I was sure my sunbonnet would do.  The spell seemed to assume the tracker would be a man.
I read through the spell several times.  Then I sat back and thought.  Did the Chronicle open to the tracking spell because it wanted me to find out what Mendel was really doing?  Does the Chronicle have a will of its own?  Or did it simply open to the spell because that’s what I had been thinking about all day-- ways to find out what Mendel was up to?  Was it really my business what Mendel did with his time?  I couldn’t decide.  I stared at the spell for a long time, no longer the least bit sleepy.

This morning I got up almost as early a the day Moonstone was born.  I grabbed my herb satchel and tiptoed over to the kitchen.  The spell took two hours to cast.  I might not have been able to do it so easily, but the Dinettes have a very accurate kitchen clock with a second hand so I could time things very precisely instead of counting in my head like I did when I was making the rosehip tea for the griffon trap.  I made the potion correctly on the first try.  Then I used my finger to drip the yellow-green liquid on the brim of the bonnet and a single drop on the edge of the book cover.  (There was actually a handwritten note in the margins of the spell saying the potion wouldn’t stain anything.)
I stowed the book and bonnet in my herb satchel and left for the Westridges.  I arrived a little bit later in the morning than the day before and Mendel was already at the gate waiting for me.
“Sleep in?” he asked cheerfully.  The sun was just starting to appear on the hills.  I didn’t say anything.  I was already beginning to feel guilty about what I was doing.  I shifted the satchel behind my back and wondered if Mendel’s talent for tracking would interfere with the spell.
Mendel took me back to the stables.  We brushed Glory and Moonstone, then led them out into the corral.  Mendel picked up his bucket and fishing pole.  He bade me good morning and slipped out of the barn.  I waited a few minutes.  Then I put on the bonnet, held the book in my hand and recited the tracking spell.  The book grew cold and my hands shivered.  Then the feeling passed and I felt a slight tug from the book.  It was working.  I followed the pull out of the barn and started across the fields in the direction of the river.  I hadn’t gone more than fifty yards when someone called out.
“Good morning, Arri!” I froze and turned.  It was Sean.  He waved me over from the edge of the field.  My face grew very hot and I slid the book behind my back.  It was a cloudy day-- no need for a sun bonnet.  I tried to walk casually, to imply that I crossed these fields all the time.  Sean’s expression was serious.
“Good morning,” I said slowly.
“Out walking?” asked Sean softly.  His eyes are not as blue as Mendel’s.  They have a slight tint of green to them.
“It’s nice out,” I said vaguely.
“To the river?” Sean leaned on his side of the fence and looked at me.  He eyes were full of questions.  He did not look angry.
“Well,” I began.  Sean cocked his head to one side.
“Do you really believe Mendel spends all day fishing?” I asked finally.
“Do you have a good reason for finding out?” asked Sean.  His voice was still soft and he looked as if he thought I really might have a good reason.  My head dropped in shame.
“No, not really,” I said.
Sean looked disappointed.  His eyes turned away from mine, toward the unseen river.  “What Mendel really needs is for someone to trust him,” he said vaguely.  It occurred to me in that moment that I’ve never heard Sean say a negative word about Mendel, and yet Sean must know him better than anyone else.
I didn’t say anything.  I wasn’t sure what Sean meant.
“I haven’t seen the tamarins lately,” I said finally, wanting to break the silence.
Sean smiled.  “Come see them, then.”  And he led me to the indoor/outdoor cages called the tamarin house.
The first moment I had alone, I deactivated the spell for tracking Mendel.  Sean’s right.  It’s none of my business.

Imato showed up just as Sean and I were walking back to the house for lunch.  I immediately lost interest in eating.  Imato was out of sorts because Sprigs had stepped on a rock the evening before and knocked a shoe loose.  Imato had to stop and wait till morning to have it repaired.  Fortunately, Sprigs is very sure-footed and didn’t sprain any joints.  They had walked the rest of the way to Odsreq and Imato was watching the old gelding closely.
We spent the rest of the day watching Glory and her foal.  Imato’s mood improved quickly.  He said that Moonstone is developing an excellent gait and a very pretty color.  I showed Imato how we’ve been teaching her to lead and Imato noted that Moonstone is very intelligent.  Later I heard some of the stable hands laughing about how many virtues Imato could discern in a four-day-old filly.  I think Imato has enough experience with horses to have excellent judgment, although technically he’s never spent much time with foals before.  He also spent a lot of time just watching Glory.  She’s recovering from her pregnancy wonderfully.  Imato is sure she’ll be ready to join him in light field exercises after we wean Moonstone in five months.  I can’t imagine separating them.  They’re so beautiful together.  Imato says it must be done.  I suppose it’s fair in some ways.  Glory was Imato’s gift and he’s hardly spent any time at all with her in the year that he’s had her.  Moonstone is mine.
April 13
I asked Imato how the wedding plans are coming.  He just rolled his eyes and said it was only his business to show up on time.
“And wear the right clothes,” I added, remembering your letters.
“Yes,” said Imato, “but Gretel is very practical about clothes.  She chose some very comfortable, light-weight styles from Neamh.  Keish should be sending you sketches soon.”
We spent the whole day with Glory and Moonstone.  Imato commented that he wished Liop could join us.
April 14
Imato borrowed one of the Westridges jumpers and went riding today.  I decided to visit Sean and the tamarins.  Sean was cleaning a cage which I thought was the sort of thing only servants do at the Westridge’s manor.
“This is for a female that’s about to give birth,” Sean explained.  “The servants are very responsible, of course, but I feel better if I’ve inspected the birthing cages myself.  This is a colder climate than tamarins normally live in and I don’t want to run any risk of illness.”
“Can I help?” I asked.
Sean handed me a scrub brush and together we worked on the cage.  Sean doesn’t talk much, so several minutes of silence passed.  Eventually, Sean set down his brush.
“Look at that,” he said softly.  I followed the direction of his gaze and saw a little black and white female huddled up in the corner with her arms around her belly.
“Is she alright?” I asked.
“I think so…” he hesitated.  “Arri, forgive the liberty, but would you run an errand for me?”
“Sure,” I said.
“There’s a reference book about tamarins that I’d like to consult.  I’d send a servant, but I think they’re all preparing lunch and it would take just as long to locate one as to get the book.  I want to keep an eye on this little one for the next several minutes.”
“Where’s the book?” I asked.
“It’s in Mendel’s room,” Sean said casually.  I stiffened.  Perhaps Sean noticed my reaction.
“He won’t be there.  I doubt you’ll see anyone.  If you do, you can tell them I sent you,” Sean continued.
“Where’s the room?” I asked.
“Go up the north back stairs and head straight down the hall.  Mendel’s room is the second door on the right.  When you enter the room, you’ll see a small bookcase to the right of the bed.  I’m sure that’s where the book is.  If it isn’t there, you can just come back here and I’ll find it myself.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling reluctant.  I supposed that the servants would keep the room spotlessly clean, but I was sure Treany wouldn’t approve.  Still, I did have permission, sort of.
I hurried across the yard from the tamarin cages to the house.  Sean was right.  It was just before lunch time and I didn’t see any servants anywhere.  They were probably all in the kitchens.  I found the north back entrance (clearly a servants’ entrance) and climbed the narrow staircase.  In a few minutes I was at Mendel’s door.  I knocked, just in case.  Silence.  I pushed the door open and went in.
As expected, the room was spotlessly clean.  It was a large room, very richly furnished like all of the rooms I had seen in the mansion.  I couldn’t help but look around as I entered.  The bed was canopied.  In one corner was a screen with a hunting scene painted on it.  The walls, however, were the most interesting part.  They were covered in architectural blueprints, each carefully framed like a work of art.  Surprised, I stopped to look at them.  There were plans for windmills and granaries, mansions and cottages.  One of the cottages was clearly the one Uncle Winthrop had rented.  I knew I should hurry, but they were all so interesting that I had to look at each one.  Most were crumbling around the edges.  The largest frame was covered by a curtain.  It was the only picture I couldn’t see.  I turned away from it and found the tamarin book on the bookcase.  I picked it up and started to leave.  The I stopped, my eyes going back to the curtained frame.
I walked back and pulled up one corner of the curtain.  It was another blueprint.  I checked that the window curtains were closed.  Then I pulled the cord to uncover the frame completely.
Like most of the blueprints, this one was aging, but it was clearly older than any of the others.  It was drawn on vellum.  Being on vellum, it was actually in better shape than many of the paper blueprints, but that was also a sign of its age.  I haven’t looked at many blueprints, so it took a couple minutes to decide what I was looking at.  It was a castle.  Not the castle in Rousha or Adya.  It did look vaguely familiar.  It was beautiful.  I could tell that even though it was only a line drawing and not a painting.  The drawing were of course covered in notes and calculations.  I don’t know how long I studied it, wondering where I had seen it.  There are old castles scattered across Elcaro and Arella.  As children, Imato and I visited many of them.  Most are in crumbling ruins.  I supposed it must have been one of the them.
Eventually, I became aware of the time.  Feeling embarrassed, I recovered the castle and ran back to Sean.  He was smiling as I rushed up.  I couldn’t think of an excuse for having taken so long, so I just handed him the book.
“How’s the tamarin?” I asked, looking back to where she had been huddled.  She wasn’t there anymore.  I scanned the cage and found her on one of the top perches.
“Sorry, Arri,” Sean said, “she started acting normally a couple minutes after you left.  I did really want the book, though, so I didn’t come after you.”
He consulted the book for several minutes and then placed it on a shelf in the utility closet of the tamarins house.
“So what did you think of Mendel’s room?  Is your curiosity about him satisfied?” he asked slowly.  His expression was serious again.
I turned bright red, remembering the day I tried to track Mendel.
“It was very clean,” I said.
Sean nodded.
“I didn’t know he collected blueprints.”
“The castle one is very valuable,” he was watching me too closely.  I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t look behind the curtain.
“What castle is it?” I asked.  I was sure my face was going to catch fire any second.
“The old Adya castle.  It doesn’t exist anymore.  Father found it for Mendel’s sixteenth birthday.  He wasn’t very pleased with Mendel’s collection at first-- not until he found out that there were valuable blueprints to be bought.  Initially, Mendel’s collection was entirely blueprints of buildings on the manor-- the stables and tamarin house, for example.”
“Even the simple ones are amazing,” I commented.  Sean smiled.
“So now you know something new about Mendel,” he said.  Then he went back to work on the tamarin cages.
April 15
I have your letter.  The sketches are gorgeous!  I can’t imagine how beautiful the ball will be.  One day I would like to travel to Neamh.  Does everyone look so perfect all the time?  It must be a wonderful place to live.  It makes me wonder why the Aoweirs ever left it.  (But I’m glad they did.)  The red and gold is so dramatic.
Imato is funny.  He didn’t say anything about not wanting to wear Neamh clothing at first.  To hear him talk now, you’d think it was almost his idea.  I think after the ball, you should take some kind of vacation from wedding plans.  They sound exhausting.  You’ve already been through one, and there are two more to go (although Clara doesn’t expect you to actually help with hers).  Oh and the secret wedding to the crazy wizard in the mountains!  Getting a priest to perform that ceremony couldn’t have been easy.  You’ve really been up to your ears in weddings for months!
Phyfe is coming.  Uncle W., Liop, Nysa and him will meet Imato and me in Odsreq.  We will show them the foal and then head out for Adya on the 18th.  We’ll travel more slowly than a single person on horseback because of taking a carriage.  However Imato is sure we’ll be there late on the 19th.  Uncle W. says I can stay for the horse market!
May you not drown in al the fabric swatches!
Love,
Arri

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