Set in Stone (7 page)

Hendry took a couple of experimental swings with the hammer, and frowned. "The weight's all wrong."

"Your problem."

"I'll get it done," Hendry said.

Keith spun and pushed through the crowd. Several of the workers gave Hendry their condolences, but none dared ask if he would take on the enormous debt of a new hammer.

It was a difficult question. Connor could not become Ashlar, but one of his younger brothers might. If they did, a new hammer would be required, but if none of them showed talent, the debt would cripple the family.

Two of the other workers helped them fill a bag with the powdered granite, clean off the mesh screen, and carefully sweep the floor. The final weight looked good, and Connor breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come on, son," Hendry said. "I want to talk with your mother."

"What about the other blocks?"

"It'll wait. I'll finish up this afternoon."

Thankfully, Keith didn't notice them leaving, although Connor didn't breathe easy until they passed through the wall gate.

"Mom's going to be really mad."

Hendry nodded. "Timing is pretty bad. I'm just glad nothing worse happened."

Connor could not imagine anything worse.

Chapter 5

As they walked toward the central square, Connor noticed his father still massaging his sprained hand. "Maybe we should stop by the healer's."

"No. It's just a sprain. Not worth risking one of Mhairi's potions."

"They're not all bad."

Hendry laughed and ruffled Connor's hair. "The first time you drank one, you threw up four times."

"I wasn't used to it then."

"How many have you drunk now?"

Connor mumbled something vague. He was not sure of the number, but it was a lot. Ever since Jean took over initial treatment of new patients in the healer's house about eighteen months ago, most of the men of the village suddenly began suffering a flood of aches and vague ailments. She'd been inundated with eager patients, much to the growing resentment of the rest of the women in the village.

Old Healer Mhairi, her grandmother, dealt with the epidemic by producing what she called a basic cure-all tonic that she forced on every new patient that could not produce a specific ailment. The vile brew worked, and restored stability to the town.

Unfortunately, Mhairi seemed content to let the treatment stand, so Connor and Stuart and Hamish, who still visited Jean at every opportunity, were doused with the nasty potion several times a week. Connor had built up a resistance to it through sheer stubbornness. He was not about to allow one of the others win Jean's affection over something as simple as nasty-tasting medicine.

Hendry said, "After we speak with your mother, you can go visit your sweetheart."

His father spoke as if it was a foregone conclusion that Jean would choose him, even though they both knew that tomorrow everything would change forever. His father's simple confidence boosted his spirits immensely.

His smile faded as they entered the central market square. Several angry female voices shouted from the cooking area. In the center of the brewing conflict, Connor's mother stood facing Cinaed, her normally happy face red with anger, while Cinaed stood with hands on hips, grinning back at Lilias.

Between the two, arms raised placatingly, stood Jean.

Although groaning internally, Jean forced an expression of calm on her face as she sought a way to head off the brewing confrontation between Lilias and Cinaed. Seeing them now, she could scarce believe they had once been dear friends.

Lilias exclaimed, "You can't take it."

Cinaed smirked. "By order of Lady Isobel, the Heatstone oven is to be confiscated in keeping with the King's edict on the removal of all contraband Grandurian merchandise."

"You can't," one woman called from the crowd. "Not before the Sogail!"

The thought of a scandal like this the day before the midsummer festival made Jean want to shriek with anger and tear at Cinaed's horrid red hair. Tomorrow she turned sixteen, and if the escalating fiasco ruined her day, the Tallan himself would cower from her wrath.

"We have to keep the law," Cinaed said, "especially during the Sogail." To Lilias she added, "Surely as the head of the women's circle, you agree."

"I am wondering how Lady Isobel heard about the oven so quickly, let alone how she would come to the conclusion that it's in any way contraband."

"She moves quickly when the safety of the town is concerned."

"Or when she sees a chance to steal," someone called from the crowd.

"Who dared say that?" Cinaed demanded.

Jean needed to bring the conversation back from the verge of impending violence, even though Cinaed seemed not to notice the signs. Jean had been trained as a healer, with her grandmother's mantra ingrained in her heart.

Look deep, see clear.

Healers couldn't afford hasty or ill-formed diagnoses that would lead to treatments that might kill. The same skill she honed in treating patients proved effective now as she picked out the angry glares and clenched fists of the crowd packing in closer toward the arguing ladies.

She could not allow her feelings to cloud her judgment, although she wished they could all just take turns slapping Cinaed for a while. It might not change things, but it would be very satisfying. Blinded by jealousy, and impelled by ambition, the woman probably considered this a spectacular coup, without realizing how it only undermined her influence.

"Surely there is some mistake," Jean said. "The oven arrived on the barge only yesterday with clear ownership."

"You're not on the circle yet," Cinaed snapped, not breaking eye contact with Lilias. "Stay out of it."

That generated a new round of angry muttering from the crowd. Jean couldn't understand how the flame-haired woman failed to see.

She made a little curtsy to appease Cinaed's need to feel superior, as she sought a way to avert this disaster and still allow the woman to retain a pretense of honor. There had to be a way to make this work.

"Of course," she said. "It's just, I know you must have done everything in your power to persuade Lady Isobel to wait until after the Sogail. After all, the oven was gifted to the town by Lilias and Hendry just this morning."

Cinaed scowled at her, but finally seemed to recognize the universal anger directed toward her, and her irritation melted away. "Yes," she stammered, "yes, I tried to make her see reason, but she was adamant the oven be taken today."

Lilias, her expression neutral, said, "Perhaps if a united circle were to petition her again, she might relent."

"Perhaps, if only for one day."

Jean harbored no illusion that Lady Isobel would allow such a marvelous item to remain in possession of the common Linn of Alasdair, but there was a chance she might relent until after the Sogail. Before she could congratulate herself on finding at least a partial solution, Hendry and Connor pushed through the crowd. Hendry held one hand awkwardly, and they were both covered with an unusual amount of granite dust.

"What trouble are you causing now, Cinaed?" Hendry demanded. His words shattered all Jean's hope of salvaging the situation.

It never ceased to amaze her how leaders from both the town council and the women's circle so often spoke before they bothered to understand. Her grandmother's other creed, repeated endlessly to her, should be taught to them.

Act only after understanding.

Cinaed snarled, "Lady Isobel gave an order, Lilias. I'm sure your vaunted honor won't allow you to refuse."

"At least she has honor," Hendry said.

"My husband will call you out for that."

Hendry shrugged. "Perhaps. He missed his chance earlier."

"You lie."

"Of all of us here, Hendry is not the liar," Lilias said.

Cinaed's angry expression gave way to one of condescending superiority. "I know you're under a lot of stress, Lilias. You must be beside yourself with worry. I don't know what I'd do if my son faced the Saorsa with no chance of gaining a useful vocation."

Jean winced at the barb that surely stung deep, but Lilias betrayed no anger. She only said, "Your ignorance is all the more startling for how you flaunt it."

Cinaed's façade of compassion cracked and she pointed at Connor. "Wastrel, Lady Isobel ordered you to deliver the oven to the manor at once."

"You lie." Connor didn't bother to hide his anger.

"Watch your tongue," Lilias reprimanded her son. "Cinaed may be many things, but she is still your elder."

"If it arrives damaged in any way, it will be charged to you," Cinaed added to Connor. "You're old enough to pay your own debts."

Hendry said, "I think you've damaged your reputation quite enough for one day, Cinaed."

She glared and stomped away.

Connor slapped the top of the oven, a large ornate cube of polished pink marble that sat on a sturdy wooden table. A full span across, it somehow burned with constant heat without needing any fuel.

The oven was a princely gift from Lilias' sister, Ailsa, who lived far to the south, and its heat was supposed to last for decades. Their gifting it to the town had seemed a brilliant plan. Instead of fostering jealousy, the oven garnered tremendous good-will.

Jean wanted to go to Connor, to comfort him, but did not dare, not with the Sogail so close. He might make dangerous assumptions she could not yet allow. As she watched him, he idly rubbed a carved bear pendant he wore around his neck. She knew only that it was a gift from his Aunt Ailsa, arrived on the barge yesterday with the oven.

She cared deeply for Connor, despite his terrible sickness that regularly left him bedridden, sometimes for days at a time. She might just give her heart to him, but did not dare do so yet. She had to stay strong, until after the Sogail.

So many things would be decided then.

Chapter 6

Hamish welcomed the chance to escape the boring, heavy labor of assembling tables to instead help Connor transport the Heatstone oven to the manor house. Tall and gangly, Hamish had grown so fast in the past couple years, his muscles hadn't really caught up. Even so, he still managed to help maneuver the oven onto a cart they commandeered for the project.