Gallel's Heir

Chapter 5: A Galian Delicacy

He will be in bondage and wallow in luxury.
The sixth son of the enemy San and the San Heir of Gallel
will wield the Ball of Lights and Truths to free him,
they and their companions,
and love, peace, knowledge and wisdom shall cover barren places like a garden.
—Anath shen Sorrel Albandor of Yambisey

Sunlight from the skylights and from the windows brightened the library to a golden glow, tinged with the solid smell of books. Canúden and Lianna stood in the top level near the soft couches, waiting for Dylin to bring Ophy. Dylin had asked him to stay with Lianna, rather than going with her: Canúden wondered if she wanted to face Ophy, a possible healer, alone. Also, likely she didn’t have the heart to leave little Lianna by herself. Not that there weren’t jens — servants of some authority — to look after her; Dylin told him she didn’t much trust them and avoided using even well-meaning servants unless she had to.

He shook his head. He was no different from other servants, other than being content with his common upbringing. It seemed the higher-ranking servants, who had received jen or del titles with their advancement, were more ashamed than he was with his common den title. 

Lianna had been a baby the last time he had been close enough to see her. A baby who had somehow talked like she was the only one who knew what was going on, and had said Canúden would be some great man. He shifted his shoulders at the thought. What did he know about little girls and keeping them entertained? At least being in the library was better than dusting hallways, cleaning toilets, or carrying messages for the kels and sans of Gallel, even if he didn’t feel right about opening any books as he watched over Lianna.

Now that she was supposedly old enough to talk fairly fluent Gungali, he’d spent nearly the last hour trying to get her to put two words together. Asking her about her favorite books had elicited a shrug; mentioning a composition of hers he’d found on one of the tables gave him no more than a nervous stare. She sat hunched on one of the couches by the window and stared down at her mother’s garden.

“What do you know of Hallel?” he said. Maybe she still knew something.

“Who?” She spared him the quickest of glances and stared again out the window. He grunted.

“Why do you think your sisters are so horrible?” tried Canúden.

Lianna only shrugged again: Children weren’t known for their understanding of the human  psyche. She clenched her doll in her little fists and wouldn’t look at him. Given that he was a man — nothing like the mean guards that must frighten her so, but a man — he appreciated her wariness. This had turned into a challenge to get her to talk, if only to get her talk-as-a-baby out of his head.

“I think what they need is a little meanness, too,” he said.

She looked at him then. “What d’you mean?”   

Encouraged, he sat on the floor so he could be eye level with her. “Well, your mama’s bringing a girl here to play with you. We think the girl’s a healer like your mama.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. Anyway, I was thinking that the three of us could make some sort of plan, so those snobby sisters of yours know they can’t treat you like they do.”

Her eyes brightened with interest. “What’re we going to do?”

“I don’t know," said Canúden. "What’s something they hate?”

She looked at the floor, shoulders slumped. “They hate me.”

“Oh, that’s ‘cause they’re foolish simpletons. I bet they hate getting dirty.”