“Isn’t that…?”
“Maldark the Fallen’s scriptures,” Aristodeus said. “And not just his, either.”
“The Book of the Way,” Lucius explained, holding it out for Thumil to take back. “Thought it was out of circulation. Every last copy was burned after the Betrayal.”
“All but this,” Thumil said. “And one other.”
“So, where’d you get it, laddie?” Carnifex said. “Surely not the Scriptorium.”
“Don’t be a shogger,” Lucius said. “They don’t keep fiction in the Scriptorium.”
Thumil sighed and shook his head. “It isn’t fiction.”
Cordy wrinkled her nose, but then she leapt up from the kilderkin and thumped Thumil on the shoulder, sending him stumbling across the room.
“Just you read it. It’s a good passage, fitting for the occasion.”
“How do you know?” Carnifex said.
Thumil flicked her a look before answering. “I read it to her on the way here. I stopped by to pick her up, help her carry the beer.”
“That the new beer?” Droom said.
Cordy grinned with unabashed pride. “From the first batch. Thought I should test it among friends before the official launch at the end of the week.”
“In that case,” Droom said, “we should press on.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, father dear?” Lucius said, whipping off his eyeglasses and breathing on the lenses before giving them a totally unnecessary wipe.
“Probably,” Droom said.
“You’re supposed to be working.”
Droom eyed the cask longingly. “That’s not fair.”
“Don’t worry, Pa,” Carnifex said. “We’ll save you some.”
“You will?”
“Same as you saved me that Urbs Sapientii mead.”
“Oh, laddie,” Droom moaned. “How did I raise such a heartless son?”
Thumil riffled through the pages of his book till he found what he was looking for. “With you permission, Droom…”
Droom’s expression changed to one of sober seriousness in an instant, and his massive shoulders slumped. “Aye, laddie. It’s kind of you to offer.”
“Well,” Thumil said, “it’s just a short passage I found the other day, but it reminds me of Yyalla.”
Droom closed his eyes and clasped his hands before him. Lucius nodded at Carnifex and did the same, but Carnifex found his mood dipping deeper and deeper into the pit. He let his eyes rove the things on the table: all that remained of Yyalla, the mother he’d never known. The walls closed in on him; the ceiling pressed him toward the floor. The narrowest of channels kept him fixed on the great helm that seemed to hold all her memories.
“‘Strength and dignity are her raiment,’” Thumil read, “‘and she laughs at the time to come.’”
Droom let out a tortured sound that may have been a chuckle.
“‘She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.’”
Lucius grunted. Carnifex wrenched his eyes away from the helm to look at him. Lucius was shaking his head and smiling softly, remembering.
“‘She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.’”
“Aye,” Droom said, opening his eyes. “Aye, I do.”
Thumil coughed. “There were other lines, too, scattered throughout, things about mighty warriors smiting their foes, that sort of thing, but I thought this was most befitting today.”
“That it was, laddie,” Droom said. “And I thank you. Though a bit of smiting wouldn’t have been out of place, not if I knew my Yyalla.” He turned to Cordy. “Wish you could have met her, lassie. She’d have liked you. You’d have had a lot in common.”
“She was a strong woman,” Thumil said.
“Indomitable,” Droom said. Then to Aristodeus, “That word big enough for you, laddie?”
“No, no,” Aristodeus said. “I mean, yes. Indomitable. She certainly was that, what I saw of her. Irrepressible, too. Makes you wonder if there was any truth to the
“Maldark the Fallen’s scriptures,” Aristodeus said. “And not just his, either.”
“The Book of the Way,” Lucius explained, holding it out for Thumil to take back. “Thought it was out of circulation. Every last copy was burned after the Betrayal.”
“All but this,” Thumil said. “And one other.”
“So, where’d you get it, laddie?” Carnifex said. “Surely not the Scriptorium.”
“Don’t be a shogger,” Lucius said. “They don’t keep fiction in the Scriptorium.”
Thumil sighed and shook his head. “It isn’t fiction.”
Cordy wrinkled her nose, but then she leapt up from the kilderkin and thumped Thumil on the shoulder, sending him stumbling across the room.
“Just you read it. It’s a good passage, fitting for the occasion.”
“How do you know?” Carnifex said.
Thumil flicked her a look before answering. “I read it to her on the way here. I stopped by to pick her up, help her carry the beer.”
“That the new beer?” Droom said.
Cordy grinned with unabashed pride. “From the first batch. Thought I should test it among friends before the official launch at the end of the week.”
“In that case,” Droom said, “we should press on.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, father dear?” Lucius said, whipping off his eyeglasses and breathing on the lenses before giving them a totally unnecessary wipe.
“Probably,” Droom said.
“You’re supposed to be working.”
Droom eyed the cask longingly. “That’s not fair.”
“Don’t worry, Pa,” Carnifex said. “We’ll save you some.”
“You will?”
“Same as you saved me that Urbs Sapientii mead.”
“Oh, laddie,” Droom moaned. “How did I raise such a heartless son?”
Thumil riffled through the pages of his book till he found what he was looking for. “With you permission, Droom…”
Droom’s expression changed to one of sober seriousness in an instant, and his massive shoulders slumped. “Aye, laddie. It’s kind of you to offer.”
“Well,” Thumil said, “it’s just a short passage I found the other day, but it reminds me of Yyalla.”
Droom closed his eyes and clasped his hands before him. Lucius nodded at Carnifex and did the same, but Carnifex found his mood dipping deeper and deeper into the pit. He let his eyes rove the things on the table: all that remained of Yyalla, the mother he’d never known. The walls closed in on him; the ceiling pressed him toward the floor. The narrowest of channels kept him fixed on the great helm that seemed to hold all her memories.
“‘Strength and dignity are her raiment,’” Thumil read, “‘and she laughs at the time to come.’”
Droom let out a tortured sound that may have been a chuckle.
“‘She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.’”
Lucius grunted. Carnifex wrenched his eyes away from the helm to look at him. Lucius was shaking his head and smiling softly, remembering.
“‘She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.’”
“Aye,” Droom said, opening his eyes. “Aye, I do.”
Thumil coughed. “There were other lines, too, scattered throughout, things about mighty warriors smiting their foes, that sort of thing, but I thought this was most befitting today.”
“That it was, laddie,” Droom said. “And I thank you. Though a bit of smiting wouldn’t have been out of place, not if I knew my Yyalla.” He turned to Cordy. “Wish you could have met her, lassie. She’d have liked you. You’d have had a lot in common.”
“She was a strong woman,” Thumil said.
“Indomitable,” Droom said. Then to Aristodeus, “That word big enough for you, laddie?”
“No, no,” Aristodeus said. “I mean, yes. Indomitable. She certainly was that, what I saw of her. Irrepressible, too. Makes you wonder if there was any truth to the
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