had someone in mind all along?”
“Well, it is only natural we should think on it,” continued Harven. “We want you to be well-established, Clarrie. If you chose to be a goldsmith, then of course you would be apprenticed, or any of the other high crafts, but if you aren’t interested . . . and failing a craft of your own, a marriage seems the best course.”
“I don’t want to be married. I’m like Aunt Lemmin. I am happiest by myself. I would like to live by myself.”
“Lemmin is a very good woman, and has been a good sister to me, but she is not a usual person, Clariel. Even when we were children she was not at all—”
“Father, I am not a usual person either! Can’t you see that?”
“You are just young,” said Harven. His smile flickered across his face for a moment. “I daresay you haven’t met the right young man. There are far more eligible young men here—”
“I don’t want a young man, eligible or otherwise!”
“You don’t know what you want!” snapped Harven.
“I want to be a Borderer,” said Clariel forcefully. “I want to live in the Great Forest. The best course for me would be if you supported this ambition!”
“Clarrie, don’t be silly. You are our daughter, a familial member of the High Guild of Goldsmiths in Belisaere! You cannot just go and live in the woods!”
“It is what I want,” said Clariel. She could feel anger rising inside her, a heat kindling that she knew she must not feed. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, then calmly said, “It is all I ever wanted.”
“You are too young to know what you want,” repeated Harven, as if repetition might make it true. “In any case, you owe us, you owe your family, to do the right thing and forget about this child’s dream! You would not last more than three days in the Great Forest, and you know it!”
“How little you know me, Father,” said Clariel. The anger was not rising, but rather ebbing, being replaced by a deep sadness. “I have spent many days and nights in the greenwood, since before I was even thirteen. All those times you thought me at Aunt Lemmin’s house, I was where I wanted to be. In the forest.”
“What?” asked Harven. “Don’t be ridiculous and don’t try to present your aunt as some ally of your fancies, just because you slipped away from her for an afternoon or two. This is an ill-considered dream, too long prolonged. And we have spoken enough of it. You go to bed. Tomorrow you begin your lessons at the Academy, and I trust that you will soon learn to become a proper young lady who respects her parents as she should!”
“As I should?” asked Clariel. “Perhaps I have respected you too highly!”
This was too much, even for Harven, who usually shied away from any confrontation. Pushing his chair back violently, he stood up and raised his hand.
“To bed!” he shouted.
Clariel gave no ground, and met his gaze, discovering for the first time with some shock that she was now slightly taller than her father, and that neither shout nor raised hand made her quail and want to flee to her room.
“I will go, Father,” she said quietly. “But I tell you now, that one day I will go to the Great Forest, and make my home there, and then . . .”
Only at this last did her nerve fail her, the sadness welling up so high that tears filled her eyes, and one, never so perfect as the golden teardrop on the desk, splashed upon the floor. She ran out the door, crying out words she hadn’t used for many years, because they never came true.
“And then you and Mother will be sorry!”
Chapter Four
GETTING READY FOR SCHOOL
T he next morning dawned bright and clear, and even more detestable to Clariel than ever. The sunlight seemed to penetrate everywhere, accompanied by the dull, ever-present noise of the city, and there was no quiet, cool place to hide, no forest glade to shelter in. After a simple breakfast, taken alone in her room, Valannie appeared, chivvying her to
“Well, it is only natural we should think on it,” continued Harven. “We want you to be well-established, Clarrie. If you chose to be a goldsmith, then of course you would be apprenticed, or any of the other high crafts, but if you aren’t interested . . . and failing a craft of your own, a marriage seems the best course.”
“I don’t want to be married. I’m like Aunt Lemmin. I am happiest by myself. I would like to live by myself.”
“Lemmin is a very good woman, and has been a good sister to me, but she is not a usual person, Clariel. Even when we were children she was not at all—”
“Father, I am not a usual person either! Can’t you see that?”
“You are just young,” said Harven. His smile flickered across his face for a moment. “I daresay you haven’t met the right young man. There are far more eligible young men here—”
“I don’t want a young man, eligible or otherwise!”
“You don’t know what you want!” snapped Harven.
“I want to be a Borderer,” said Clariel forcefully. “I want to live in the Great Forest. The best course for me would be if you supported this ambition!”
“Clarrie, don’t be silly. You are our daughter, a familial member of the High Guild of Goldsmiths in Belisaere! You cannot just go and live in the woods!”
“It is what I want,” said Clariel. She could feel anger rising inside her, a heat kindling that she knew she must not feed. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, then calmly said, “It is all I ever wanted.”
“You are too young to know what you want,” repeated Harven, as if repetition might make it true. “In any case, you owe us, you owe your family, to do the right thing and forget about this child’s dream! You would not last more than three days in the Great Forest, and you know it!”
“How little you know me, Father,” said Clariel. The anger was not rising, but rather ebbing, being replaced by a deep sadness. “I have spent many days and nights in the greenwood, since before I was even thirteen. All those times you thought me at Aunt Lemmin’s house, I was where I wanted to be. In the forest.”
“What?” asked Harven. “Don’t be ridiculous and don’t try to present your aunt as some ally of your fancies, just because you slipped away from her for an afternoon or two. This is an ill-considered dream, too long prolonged. And we have spoken enough of it. You go to bed. Tomorrow you begin your lessons at the Academy, and I trust that you will soon learn to become a proper young lady who respects her parents as she should!”
“As I should?” asked Clariel. “Perhaps I have respected you too highly!”
This was too much, even for Harven, who usually shied away from any confrontation. Pushing his chair back violently, he stood up and raised his hand.
“To bed!” he shouted.
Clariel gave no ground, and met his gaze, discovering for the first time with some shock that she was now slightly taller than her father, and that neither shout nor raised hand made her quail and want to flee to her room.
“I will go, Father,” she said quietly. “But I tell you now, that one day I will go to the Great Forest, and make my home there, and then . . .”
Only at this last did her nerve fail her, the sadness welling up so high that tears filled her eyes, and one, never so perfect as the golden teardrop on the desk, splashed upon the floor. She ran out the door, crying out words she hadn’t used for many years, because they never came true.
“And then you and Mother will be sorry!”
Chapter Four
GETTING READY FOR SCHOOL
T he next morning dawned bright and clear, and even more detestable to Clariel than ever. The sunlight seemed to penetrate everywhere, accompanied by the dull, ever-present noise of the city, and there was no quiet, cool place to hide, no forest glade to shelter in. After a simple breakfast, taken alone in her room, Valannie appeared, chivvying her to
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