Commitment Hour by James Alan Gardner Page B

Rashid swaggered out, the mayor’s arm around Rashid’s shoulders in much the same way that Rashid had walked so long with Steck. Teggeree was saying, “If you really want to keep your identity secret, Lord Rashid, we’d better…”
    The mayor’s voice died away as he saw Cappie and me sitting on the steps.
    “We can keep secrets,” Cappie said coldly.
    “Good,” Rashid smiled. “The council and I have come to an agreement, and it would be better for all concerned—”
    “Better for the prosperity of the cove,” Teggeree put in smugly.
    “Yes,” Rashid continued, “better for everyone if we don’t spread rumors about Neuts and other complicated issues.”
    “Then why not leave, and take Steck with you?” Cappie asked.
    “I’ll leave tomorrow, after I see Master Crow and Mistress Gull,” Rashid replied. “In the meantime, we can disguise Steck—conceal the nature of her gender, at any rate—so we won’t upset the rest of the village. I want you to swear you won’t tell what’s happened here tonight, till after I’m gone.”
    “You have to swear on the Patriarch’s Hand,” Teggeree added.
    Cappie rose to her feet. “Why should I?”
    “Cappie!” That was me, shocked. People didn’t talk like that to our mayor.
    But Cappie gave me a dark look and turned back to glare at Rashid and Teggeree. “I’m only a foolish woman,” she said in precise tones, “but perhaps you might humor me.”
    The mayor’s jaw dropped open. He stared at her, then let go of Rashid and craned his neck toward the open hall door, where Leeta stood amidst the Elders. Leeta took a shy step forward, lowered her eyes, and mumbled toward the ground, “I’ve invited Cappie to become the next Mocking Priestess.”
    “It seems to me,” Cappie said loudly, “that if the council has good reason to permit strangers to observe Commitment Day—the most central event in our lives and the thing that makes us unique from everyone else on Earth—it seems to me if the council has good reason for this decision, there’s no need to keep it secret from other Tobers. If it’s the right thing to do, everyone will agree when you explain. They’ll say, ‘Yes, it’s a good thing you’re allowing a Neut to mingle with our children. It’s a good thing you’ve welcomed a scientist.’ ”
    “Rashid is more than a scientist,” Leeta sighed. “He’s the scientist. King of all other scientists on Earth. He’s the Knowledge-Lord of Spark.”

SEVEN

    An Oath for the Patriarch’s Man

    Leeta’s news set me back a pace. As far as I knew, we’d never had a Spark Lord within a hundred klicks of Tober Cove. Spark law only allows fourteen Lords at most, and an average generation has just five or six—way too few to visit every little village on Earth. On top of that, the Lords are too busy to worry about peaceful places like our cove, because they spend their lives stopping wars and fighting demons in more complicated parts of the planet. Between battles, they have their hands full with other important work, making medicines, organizing food shipments in time of famine, and leaning on provincial Governors who get too uppity for the good of their people.
    Tober Cove had never had the sort of trouble that warrants a Spark Lord’s attention. It made me wonder what kind of mess we were in, to get the Knowledge-Lord now. But at least I knew why the Elders had welcomed Rashid with open arms. All the stories about the Sparks drive one message home: they get their way in the end, so you might as well give in right off.
    I wasn’t the only one unsettled by a Spark in our midst. Cappie’s stern expression wilted and she whipped away to face out into the dark. Anyone would feel crestfallen to deliver her first homily as Mocking Priestess, then have it swept aside by the intervention of a Lord; still, I fussed that Cappie had just put me into that toss-up situation all men hate. Was I supposed to go over and say comforting there-there’s?