the making of a scribe, but I have seen worse.”
Magda flushed at this harsh judgment; she felt bruised and offended; she had never been accused of clumsiness in her entire life.
“Let us see what we can do with you, then. You are no scribe. Can you sew? Embroider?”
“No, not even a little,” said Magda, remembering her attempt to botch together her trail clothes at Ardais.
“Can you cook?”
“Only for the trail, when traveling.”
“Can you weave, or do dyeing?”
“Not even a little.”
“Do you know anything of plants and gardening?”
“Even less, I fear.”
“Can you ride?”
“Oh, yes, certainly,” Magda said, glad to arrive at something which she could do.
“Can you saddle your own horse, care for his tack, look after his feed and care? Good; I am afraid we will have to put you to work in the stables,” said Mother Lauria. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not,” Magda said. But she had to confess ignorance again when the woman asked if she knew anything of farriery, of metalworking and forging, of veterinary medicine, dairying, cheesemaking, animal husbandry or bootmaking, and she had to answer no to all of these things. Mother Lauria looked a little more approving when Magda said that she had been trained in both armed and unarmed combat; but she said thoughtfully “You have a good deal to learn,” and Magda guessed that Mother Lauria was as relieved as she was herself when the fair-haired, snub-nosed girl reappeared with trays and jugs.
“Ah, here is our dinner. Set it down here, Doria.”
The girl uncovered the tray; a bowl of some kind of baked grain with a sauce of vegetables, mugs of something which tasted like buttermilk, and some sliced fruit, preserved in honey or syrup. She gestured to Magda to help herself, and ate in silence for some time. Finally, as she folded her napkin, she asked, “How old are you?”
Magda assumed she meant Darkovan reckoning, and told her age; only later did she realize that Mother Lauria had been testing to see if she could reckon the difference between the relatively short Terran year and the much longer Darkovan.
“You have been married, Margali? Have you a child?”
Magda shook her head silently. That had been one of the main causes of tension between them, that she had not given Peter the son he wished for.
“Has that marriage been formally dissolved, as I gather you Terrans can do by mutual consent?”
Magda was surprised that Mother Lauria knew this much. “It has. Terran marriage is not quite like Freemate marriage, but it is nearer to that than to the Darkovan catenas . We agreed to separate more than a year ago.”
“That is fortunate; if you had a child under the age of fifteen, you would be required to make arrangements for its care. We do not allow women to take refuge here if they have obligations outside which have not been met. I assume you have not an aged parent who is dependent on you?”
“No; my mother and father have been dead for many years.”
“Have you another lover now?”
Silently Magda shook her head.
“Will it be a great hardship to you, to live without a lover? I suppose, since you and your husband have been separated for some time, you have grown accustomed to sleeping alone; but will it be very difficult for you? Or are you perhaps a lover of women?” She used the very polite term, and Magda was not offended - she supposed that any society composed only of women must attract a certain percentage of those who would rather die or renounce everything than marry. She found this line of questioning uncomfortably personal, but she had promised herself that she would answer everything as honestly as she could. “I do not think I shall find it unendurably painful,” and only after she had spoken did she realize how sarcastic it sounded. Mother Lauria smiled and said, “I hope not; but especially during your housebound time, this can be a problem, as anyone but a child would know. Let me think - it is hard to remember what
Magda flushed at this harsh judgment; she felt bruised and offended; she had never been accused of clumsiness in her entire life.
“Let us see what we can do with you, then. You are no scribe. Can you sew? Embroider?”
“No, not even a little,” said Magda, remembering her attempt to botch together her trail clothes at Ardais.
“Can you cook?”
“Only for the trail, when traveling.”
“Can you weave, or do dyeing?”
“Not even a little.”
“Do you know anything of plants and gardening?”
“Even less, I fear.”
“Can you ride?”
“Oh, yes, certainly,” Magda said, glad to arrive at something which she could do.
“Can you saddle your own horse, care for his tack, look after his feed and care? Good; I am afraid we will have to put you to work in the stables,” said Mother Lauria. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not,” Magda said. But she had to confess ignorance again when the woman asked if she knew anything of farriery, of metalworking and forging, of veterinary medicine, dairying, cheesemaking, animal husbandry or bootmaking, and she had to answer no to all of these things. Mother Lauria looked a little more approving when Magda said that she had been trained in both armed and unarmed combat; but she said thoughtfully “You have a good deal to learn,” and Magda guessed that Mother Lauria was as relieved as she was herself when the fair-haired, snub-nosed girl reappeared with trays and jugs.
“Ah, here is our dinner. Set it down here, Doria.”
The girl uncovered the tray; a bowl of some kind of baked grain with a sauce of vegetables, mugs of something which tasted like buttermilk, and some sliced fruit, preserved in honey or syrup. She gestured to Magda to help herself, and ate in silence for some time. Finally, as she folded her napkin, she asked, “How old are you?”
Magda assumed she meant Darkovan reckoning, and told her age; only later did she realize that Mother Lauria had been testing to see if she could reckon the difference between the relatively short Terran year and the much longer Darkovan.
“You have been married, Margali? Have you a child?”
Magda shook her head silently. That had been one of the main causes of tension between them, that she had not given Peter the son he wished for.
“Has that marriage been formally dissolved, as I gather you Terrans can do by mutual consent?”
Magda was surprised that Mother Lauria knew this much. “It has. Terran marriage is not quite like Freemate marriage, but it is nearer to that than to the Darkovan catenas . We agreed to separate more than a year ago.”
“That is fortunate; if you had a child under the age of fifteen, you would be required to make arrangements for its care. We do not allow women to take refuge here if they have obligations outside which have not been met. I assume you have not an aged parent who is dependent on you?”
“No; my mother and father have been dead for many years.”
“Have you another lover now?”
Silently Magda shook her head.
“Will it be a great hardship to you, to live without a lover? I suppose, since you and your husband have been separated for some time, you have grown accustomed to sleeping alone; but will it be very difficult for you? Or are you perhaps a lover of women?” She used the very polite term, and Magda was not offended - she supposed that any society composed only of women must attract a certain percentage of those who would rather die or renounce everything than marry. She found this line of questioning uncomfortably personal, but she had promised herself that she would answer everything as honestly as she could. “I do not think I shall find it unendurably painful,” and only after she had spoken did she realize how sarcastic it sounded. Mother Lauria smiled and said, “I hope not; but especially during your housebound time, this can be a problem, as anyone but a child would know. Let me think - it is hard to remember what
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