Ashes Under Uricon (The Change Book 1) (12 page)

Cordelia closed her folder. “We have done enough for today. We shall continue in the morning. Would you care to accompany me to breakfast, Non? Richard, perhaps you could bring Eluned to the dining room?”

Cordelia held my hand as she led me into the dining room. Unlike on any previous occasion, she placed me next to her, on the side of the table opposite to my usual seat. When Taid entered a few minutes later, he took one of the spare chairs that were dotted around the room and placed it next to mine. He insisted that Eluned should sit on it. Despite much misgiving, she eventually gave in and sat down. Taid then took my former chair, so that he was now directly facing me. The others followed shortly, all taking different chairs to their previous ones. Mererid and Matthew did not appear.

This new arrangement clearly confused Eluned. Not knowing how she was supposed to provide me with food while she was seated at the table, she simply bowed her head and sat with her hands folded in her lap. She said nothing. As always, the bowls of food were passed around the table from person to person, each taking as much or as little as they required. Eluned sat back from the table each time the bowl came to her, except that she did take a piece of dry bread.

While we were eating there was the customary animated conversation, as usual in a mixture of languages. However, this time, Cordelia and Taid gave me brief summaries of the subjects under discussion. While they did so, the conversation paused, all members wishing to hear what I was being told. There were a number of subjects, most of which meant nothing to me, apparently to do with the books and manuscripts that they had been reading. There was one subject that led to heated debate, with the men raising their voices more than they usually did, only to be quietened down by the women. In fact, at one point Mere Rhiannon burst out laughing – a most unusual occurrence – and the men stopped and stared at her. According to Taid, the subject was the Change. He gave only a brief summary of what they had been saying, merely indicating that they were all very much against it.

As breakfast finished, one by one they left the room, each person nodding in my direction as they did so. I was left with Cordelia, Taid and Eluned, still sitting in silence beside me.

“I will leave things to you, Richard,” Cordelia said, getting up from the table. As she passed me, she patted my shoulder. “Brave girl. Your spirit is good.”

Taid shuffled the empty plate before him on the table for a moment before speaking. “You need to know, cariad bach, that our sole reason for being here is to prepare the ground for you. And when I say ‘our’ I mean everyone, not just you and me. So far, we have been able to allow you a great deal of freedom, as we have had to spend many, many hours researching our tasks. I know that you have missed having me around. I have missed having you around perhaps more.”

He looked up at me as he said these last few words. I could think of nothing to say. A lump formed in my throat.

“What we are about to ask you to do is something that we wish we could do instead of you, but that is impossible. We are all old, set in our ways, experts in our odd little fields, but pretty useless at practical matters. In the past times we were known as ‘academics’ and everyone knew that academics were ‘other-worldly’. How ironic that such a phrase has now come to mean so much more. We do not, and cannot, survive in the world to which you are accustomed.”

I sat back in my chair with my hands on the table before me. Unexpectedly, Eluned lifted her hand from her lap and covered one of my hands with her own. I looked at her. She smiled.

“We – I – have taken you away from that world in order that you may see things other than those you are expected to see. To know things other than those you are expected to know. Perhaps even to believe things other than those you are expected to believe. Our delight in listening to you describing learning as your walks in the grounds of this house was immense. It manifested itself in the new approach to breakfast just now, when you were accepted as one of us, rather than a child who is here under sufferance. Perhaps one day you will fully understand the significance of that, although it may mean very little to you at present.”

I turned to Eluned. “We enjoy our walks, don’t we? If that is learning, then it makes me happy. I have grown to love the field, the woods, perhaps most of all the lake. When I stand near its waters I feel a kind of strength building inside me. The last time we were there, as I stared out upon the water, a passage from Mark came into my head, unbidden, ‘et vox facta est de caelis tu es Filius meus dilectus in te conplacui’.”

Eluned look bewildered. I don’t think I had ever used DogLat in her presence before. Taid translated, “And a voice came from the heavens, saying, ‘This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.’
 
She is speaking words from the Latin Bible, Eluned. That is what learning means in her world. How strange that you should remember that verse, cariad. If I remember rightly, the following verse is, ‘et statim Spiritus expellit eum in desertum’.”

I stared at him. “‘And immediately the Spirit cast him out into the desert.’ How do you know that, Taid?”

“I know many things, cariad. Some useful, some useless. DogLat, as you insist on calling it, has had its uses in my life. Substitute ‘her’ for ‘him’ in those verses and you are perhaps drawing closer to what we purpose for you.”

“You are going to cast me out into the desert?”

Eluned squeezed my hand. “Peace, Non. ‘
Be not afraid of the words which thou hast heard.’”

I looked at her. “Is the Domina speaking to me?”

She nodded. I turned back to Taid.

“I will go no further for the moment, cariad. I do not wish to frighten you, or unduly worry you. You will be strong. I know that. For the present, return to your room with Eluned and continue with your lessons.” He got up from his chair, walked around the table and kissed the top of my head before leaving.

Eluned and I returned to our room where we spent the rest of the day in quiet contemplation.

The following morning, as Cordelia had promised, Taid came into our room and led me off to the library. The seating arrangement was as the day before, but there was no sign of Mererid or Matthew this time. There was a folder at their places, but their chairs were empty.

Once Taid and I were seated, and I had nodded greetings, this time Aidan began.

“Good morning. We would like to begin by developing our understanding of your thoughts about what you have learned while you have been here.”

This was odd. I thought I had covered most of what I had to say previously. “What would you like to know?”

He cleared his throat and looked at something written in his folder. “Yesterday, having told us that you felt that you had learned by visiting the field, the woods and the lake, you said, ‘If that is learning, then, yes, I have learned.’ You appear somewhat doubtful. Some of us were concerned with the use of that word ‘if’. Would you mind elaborating?”

He had quoted my exact words. This meant that everything I said must be written down. I glanced at Taid. He was indeed writing as we spoke. It also meant that they were, at some point following the questioning, discussing what I had said in minute detail. Yet I tended to be answering most of their questions off the top of my head. I would have to take more care in what I said.

“If I remember correctly,” I said, “as I do not have a written copy of my words...” I looked at each of them in turn. There was no reaction. “If I remember correctly, I followed that sentence by referring to what learning meant to me before I came here.”

Aidan nodded in agreement.

“No one had explained to me that the various things that I have done since I came were to be considered to be ‘learning’. Until these sessions began I thought they were ways of helping me to pass the time. Yesterday, for the first time in four years I felt included at breakfast. Before that it had always been my impression that I was here under sufferance. You required Taid - my grandfather’s – presence, and since I was with him you had to put up with me in a way that caused the least disturbance to his - and your – work.”

Cordelia said, “I believe that your grandfather spoke to you yesterday about the real reason for your being here. Is that correct?”

“Some things he said partly explained my presence. Some things seemed downright odd, if I am honest. And I mean no offence to Taid in saying that.”

“What was odd about what you were told?” Aidan continued.

“What I found most disturbing was his quotation from Mark, ‘the Spirit cast him out into the desert’. He appeared to be suggesting that this applied to me. He said I should substitute ‘her’ for ‘him’.”

“Most interesting,” Aidan said. Mere Rhiannon raised her hand. “Oui, madame?” he said.

“Elle dit quoi? L’Esprit? Le deserte? Je comprends pas.” She threw up her hands.

“Des mots de l’evangeliste Marc,” Taid said, smiling. “C’est Dieu qui parle.”

Mere Rhiannon shrugged, but said nothing.

“Do you know what a desert is, Non?” Cordelia asked me.

“A place without water and hence without vegetation or animal life. At the time of Jesus it was supposed to be near where he lived.”

“Do you know of any desert in this country?”

“There have been no deserts since the Change. It is not possible that there should be any in this country.”

“What do you think your grandfather meant by his suggestion?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I find it odd.” I looked at their faces. They were all half-smiling.

The Basque man with the strange name put up his hand. Cordelia said, “Speak, Eguski.”

I had never heard his voice before, apart from in the babble at meal times. His words were heavily accented. “Senorita, you know what is ‘metaphor’?”

The others laughed. Not an offensive laugh. A friendly laugh. Yet Eguski blushed deeply. “Sorry my English,” he said.

“We are not laughing at your English, Eguski,” Aidan said. “Rather it is your question. I don’t suppose for one minute that Non has ever heard the word before.” He looked at me. “Have you, my dear?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not sure what the gentleman said.”

Cordelia said, “He asked if you knew what a ‘metaphor’ is. I take it that is not a word with which you are familiar?”

“Is it English?” I said.

“Yes. Well, not quite. I think Senor Eguski was wondering if you knew why your grandfather suggested that you were to be cast out into the desert when there are no such things. Am I right, Eguski?”

He nodded, vigorously.

“I have no idea,” I replied.

“Words may not mean what they say. At first.” I was surprised. Taid was speaking now. “You may be correct in saying that there are no deserts. Your explanation of what a desert is was very accurate. However, perhaps the evangelist did not actually mean ‘a place without water and vegetation’. Is it possible he was referring to something – somewhere – else?”

“I don’t follow. A desert means what I said. There can be no other meaning.”

Taid looked at Cordelia. “Should I pursue this?” She looked up and down the table and nodded.

“Sometimes a writer may not be able to, or may not want to, tell us what he means directly. He may be forced, or he may simply decide, to use another word. Think of the word ‘desert’. Quite correctly, you gave the definition that would appear in a dictionary. However, perhaps Mark was not referring to ‘a place without water’, and so on. Perhaps he was referring to a place where certain things are absent. Certain things which may be represented by the idea of ‘water’, of ‘vegetation’, rather than the things themselves.”

Although still unsure where all this was leading, I was becoming interested in what he was saying. “Could I have some water?” I asked. “I’m afraid my mouth is rather dry.”

Mere Rhiannon bounced up from her chair. “De l’eau?” When Cordelia nodded, she left the room, returning moments later with a glass of water, which she carefully placed before me. “Attention a la table,” she trilled before returning to her place. I took a long sip from the glass.

“Shall I continue?” Taid said. Everyone nodded. “So, Non. You spoke yesterday about the water of the lake bringing you strength. Did that happen because you actually drank the water?”

I laughed. “Don’t be silly. It was simply something I felt. I didn’t need to actually drink the water.”

“Precisely. It was simply being near the lake that gave you this strength. You just asked for a glass of water. You said your mouth was dry. Is your mouth a ‘desert’?”

“Of course it isn’t. Now you’re really being silly, Taid.”

“If a desert is a place without water, and your mouth was without water, should it not therefore follow that you could describe your mouth as a desert?”

I suddenly began to see what he was saying. “Well, yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“Good,” he said, smiling. “Let me take this one step further. In your life before you came here, you were told that there was only one book – the Bible. Yes?”

I nodded.

“Yet here we are in this room. It is filled on three sides with books. Do you believe that they exist?”

“I have to believe what I see around me. Yes, of course.”

“Do you believe that it would be good to be able to read these books?”

“I would love to, Taid. In fact, I can’t wait to get my hands on them.” Everyone laughed.

“Well, if these books may be represented by the word ‘water’, where do you think there is a ‘desert’ which is lacking them?”

I was stunned by the thought that passed through my mind.

“Well, where is it, cariad? I can see you have understood me.”

“The world I came from. Where I was told that there was only one book. When there are all these books in this one room. My world is a desert. It is without water – without books. And it is without vegetation – the joy that must come from reading many books.” I looked at Taid. “You are sending me back to that world. To show them the error of their ways - ‘
qui converti fecerit peccatorem ab errore viae’.”