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The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 178 из 216They raced to the top of thetower and then squeezed out the window and climbed down the vines that somehow found purchase on the smooth marble walls. From there they moved to the curtain walls, and from there to the branches of the first of several trees. But they didn't speak until they reached the leafy sanctuary of Tzigone's bilboa tree.
Matteo watched as Tzigone took dried rations and a flask of water from a hidden cache. "Do you know every such tree in the land?"
"One or two in every city and main village," she said. "I move around a lot. I doubt I need to explain why."
"In truth, an explanation would be in order," Matteo said. "For what are you searching? What is worth the risks that you've taken?"
For once Tzigone gave a straight and simple answer. "I'm looking for my ancestry."
Matteo's brow furrowed. "This is so important?"
"I can see why you wouldn't think so. You've never known family."
"All jordaini are taken to the school shortly after birth," he agreed. "It is the traditional way."
"But haven't you ever wondered who your family were?"
He gave that careful thought. "From time to time, I have wondered who might have given me birth. But the jordaini are my brothers, and I have known no real lack. Your situation is different, I take it?"
"Yes," she said shortly. "I had a mother, and I won't rest until I find her. Don't you ever wonder what happened to yours?"
"She was a woman grown when she gave birth. I understand that jordaini births are usually predicted by the matchmakers, so she knew from the onset that she would bear a child only to give it up. This is done willingly, for the good of the land. The parents are well compensated, as they have no children to care for them in their old age, and they are greatly honored for their sacrifice."
Tzigone stared at him for a long moment. "Come with me," she said abruptly and began to slide down the tree.
Less than two hours later, they stood in the doorway of a one-room cottage, one of several such cottages, all identical and clustered around a simple garden surrounded by a tall, thick wall.
"What place is this?" Matteo asked in a whisper. There was something about the place, pleasant though it was, that inhibited the spirit.
"Go inside," Tzigone said.
Matteo paused at the doorway and spoke the traditional pledge tradition required of all Halruaans, swearing that no magic would be worked within this house.
"Do not mock me," said a small, anguished whisper.
Matteo watched as Tzigone took dried rations and a flask of water from a hidden cache. "Do you know every such tree in the land?"
"One or two in every city and main village," she said. "I move around a lot. I doubt I need to explain why."
"In truth, an explanation would be in order," Matteo said. "For what are you searching? What is worth the risks that you've taken?"
For once Tzigone gave a straight and simple answer. "I'm looking for my ancestry."
Matteo's brow furrowed. "This is so important?"
"I can see why you wouldn't think so. You've never known family."
"All jordaini are taken to the school shortly after birth," he agreed. "It is the traditional way."
"But haven't you ever wondered who your family were?"
He gave that careful thought. "From time to time, I have wondered who might have given me birth. But the jordaini are my brothers, and I have known no real lack. Your situation is different, I take it?"
"Yes," she said shortly. "I had a mother, and I won't rest until I find her. Don't you ever wonder what happened to yours?"
"She was a woman grown when she gave birth. I understand that jordaini births are usually predicted by the matchmakers, so she knew from the onset that she would bear a child only to give it up. This is done willingly, for the good of the land. The parents are well compensated, as they have no children to care for them in their old age, and they are greatly honored for their sacrifice."
Tzigone stared at him for a long moment. "Come with me," she said abruptly and began to slide down the tree.
Less than two hours later, they stood in the doorway of a one-room cottage, one of several such cottages, all identical and clustered around a simple garden surrounded by a tall, thick wall.
"What place is this?" Matteo asked in a whisper. There was something about the place, pleasant though it was, that inhibited the spirit.
"Go inside," Tzigone said.
Matteo paused at the doorway and spoke the traditional pledge tradition required of all Halruaans, swearing that no magic would be worked within this house.
"Do not mock me," said a small, anguished whisper.