Legacies by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

scent of quarasote. Alucius sat in the second seat, the one that he’d bolted in place in the morning. His mother sat beside him, while his grandparents sat in the front seat, where his grandsire guided the team.
    â€œI’m glad you decided that you’d come to this with us,” Lucenda said to her father.
    â€œNot as though you left me much choice,” grumbled Royalt. “Wouldn’t get much besides a cold shoulder to eat, no help with anything.”
    â€œDear, it’s not as though Kustyl has a gather every week,” Veryl pointed out.
    â€œNo…but now we’ll have to give one sometime next year.”
    â€œThat won’t destroy us. Besides, Lucenda and Alucius need to see other folk more often.”
    Alucius squirmed in the seat, then looked at his mother. Lucenda grinned, then bent over and whispered in her son’s ear, “He just likes to complain. He’ll enjoy it as much as any of us.”
    â€œI don’t complain, daughter. Much good it would do to sulk and waste good ale. Besides, you’d be put out if we didn’t go, and when you get put off, you cut like quarasote.”
    Alucius didn’t always understand the by-play. He knew his grandfather could hear a quarasote spine rustle a vingt away, and he knew his mother knew that. And he knew that his grandfather knew that his mother knew. So, instead of trying to puzzle it out, he looked to his right, at the great plateau, where, under a cloudless silver-green sky, some of the quartz outcroppings at the rim were sparkling, reflecting the sunlight with a green-tinged silver.
    â€œIt’ll do you good to see other herders, Royalt,” Veryl continued. “You can all complain together, and then you’ll feel better. You always do.”
    Royalt laughed, and half turned in the seat to address Alucius. “Never argue with a woman, boy. If you’re right, and you won’t be often, they’ll never forgive it, and if you’re wrong, they’ll never forget it.”
    â€œRoyalt,” snorted Veryl, “don’t be giving the boy ideas.”
    â€œI don’t have to give him ideas. He’s got more than enough of his own. Needs to understand something about women, though.”
    Veryl turned in her seat to face her daughter and raised one eyebrow.
    Lucenda grinned for a moment.
    After more than a glass on the ancient eternastone highroad, Royalt turned off onto a lane heading west, a much rougher ride, one that took nearly a half-glass to travel a vingt, until they neared a stead, similar to the one where Alucius lived. Although there was no ridge like Westridge near the stead, the rolling quarasote plains were much the same, treeless and with the red sandy soil. The main house was longer, and lower, without an upper level or loft rooms, and the eaves were longer and hung out over a wide covered porch that ran around the entire dwelling. But the walls were of the same reddish stone and the roof the same split slate. The stone-walled outbuildings seemed lower than the ones at his own stead, but there were more of them.
    As the wagon slowed, a grayjay squawked from one of the posts by a lambing pen, and then took flight. Alucius watched the blue and gray scavenger until it landed on the ridge of the stead house’s slate roof, clearly waiting for any scraps that might come from the gather.
    â€œOver here, Royalt!” called a thin and wiry man, one who definitely made Royalt seem stocky, even though the older herder was not.
    Royalt slowed the wagon and eased it toward the open shed beside the stable, where the wiry man stood.
    â€œRoyalt…glad you all could come. Mairee was hoping you’d be here.”
    â€œWouldn’t have missed it for anything, Kustyl,” replied Royalt as he set the wagon brake.
    â€œYou mean your lady wouldn’t have.” Kustyl grinned.
    â€œThat, too.” Royalt vaulted down from one side of the wagon as Kustyl