“How did they name you, Notouch?”
The man raised his eyes and Eric saw the face of Nail in the Beam.
“This despised one is named Nail in the Beam dena First Hand to the Work,” he said, not raising his voice above its gravelly whisper.
“And you, Notouch?” Eric asked Branch, but she just turned her head away.
“Branch in the River has been sentenced to silence because her words betrayed the clan’s safety,” said Nail. “If she speaks again, the Seniors will cut her tongue out.”
Eric suppressed the urge to wince. She’s lucky to be alive, he thought, and then he wondered if that was true.
“My Lord Teacher, this despised one begs your indulgence,” said Nail in the Beam.
He looked deflated. Not an hour ago, Eric had seen the man taking blows that should have felled an ox. Now, though, he looked as if his own daughter could have toppled him with a stern word.
“In what way does Nail in the Beam need my indulgence?” he asked.
Nail’s hands lowered as if he simply lacked the strength to hold them up anymore. “This despised one … he needs your intercession with the Nameless Powers, with the Servant. He …” Nail in the Beam wet his lips. “He has tried, my lord, the Servant’s Eyes have seen that he has tried to hold true to the Words. But his wife … his wives …” Nail didn’t even try to finish his sentence.
“I’m no true Teacher, Nail in the Beam,” Eric said gently. “The Nameless and the Servant will not hear me.”
“You are all this despised one has,” he said, bowing his head. “He pleads, my Lord Teacher.”
Eric said nothing. He simply stood in front of the kneeling man with his stained, scarred hands and frightened eyes. He felt the thick air of the Realm press against his pores. He felt the weight of the clouds overhead and of the distant Walls. He remembered his distorted reflection in the visors of the Vitae who came to collect him like a specimen of vanity cattle. He remembered the eagerness in Kessa and Tasa Ad’s faces as they spun him tales of freedom beyond the World’s Wall. He remembered all the long years of belief, belief as strong and as sure as the belief that kept this man kneeling in the mud waiting for his decision.
He remembered Arla aboard the U-Kenai, laughing at all his great and grand heresies and asking if he thought the Nameless cared who else he served.
Your first wife has done nothing wrong, he said silently. Your second … Eric looked toward Branch in the River. Defiance still smoldered in her eyes. She had made her bid for what she knew as power and had lost, but she was in no way defeated. Eric found himself doubting very much that she would stay with the clan for long.
He lifted his hands over her husband’s head and raised his voice to the sky.
“I stand in the place of the Nameless Powers and I see with the eyes of their Servant Garismit. If any think shamefully of Nail in the Beam dena First Hand to the Work, the shame is theirs, not his. The Servant sees and the Nameless know him to be faithful and stern in his keeping of the Words.”
Eric took Nail’s right hand in his and reached out with his power gift. Nail grunted as the gift added a new scar to Nail’s hand marks, a small straight line indicating that forgiveness had been sought and received. Most people carried eight or ten of them. Nail, Eric noted, did not have any others but his.
“Go now, Nail in the Beam. I think Iron Shaper will need help organizing your exodus.”
Nail stood up heavily and bowed deeply, retreating backward as the Words dictated. Branch in the River picked herself up off the ground and followed him without looking back. Eric watched them until they both vanished through the stands of Crookers and bamboo.
“Thank you for that.”
Eric’s head jerked around. Arla stood in the shadow of a stunted evergreen.
Eric ran his hand through his hair. It was tangled and damp and he thought longingly of the cleaner in the U-Kenai. “What else was I going to do?”
Arla shrugged and moved into the light. “You could have told him the Words were all about as meaningful as a cloud of splinter-chasers and that the Teachers were totally powerless to intercede for anybody.”
“I thought you told me to look for the truth under the Words.”
“I did.” She smiled softly. “But I wasn’t sure you were listening.”
Eric felt himself smile in response. “It is next to impossible not to listen to you, Arla.” He nodded in the direction of the huts. The noise of voices and bustle drifted to them on the wind. “What’s happening over there?”
“Everybody is getting ready to pull out at sunshowing. Reed in the Wind is going to head for Narroways to find our work-walkers and tell them what’s happened. Mother is going to stay here with Storm Water for two weeks in case anybody comes back before then.” She bit her lip for a minute, concern plain on her face. Eric could picture the scene that must have happened when that idea was proposed. “Jay and I will head straight for his dome to see what’s there,” she went on with forced calm, “and you and Teacher Heart …” Arla broke off and looked at him sharply. “Eric, what happened between you two?”