Memory of Morning (9 page)

"It is not so much the All that this particular faction is worried about, but about a noblewoman teaching anything new," mother said. "And not even so much about teaching new philosophy, but teaching it to those outside the elite class."

Danil Heron pushed into the room past the maid. His neckcloth was askew, his thick, dark hair tousled. There was a certain wildness in his eyes. He slammed the door. "I heard a Gracer tried to get to you," he said to me. "Are you all right?"

I stood up, and looked up, into his concerned face. I was more happy to see him than I was shocked at his intrusion. "Gracers?" I asked.

"There are several clerical committees conducting investigations - into university courses, at private schools, at open temples. Now it seems they are targeting the military as well. The Gracers are looking for any perceived heresy and sedition," Miss Apple said. "They started using the excuse that the Empire needs to return to ancient traditions that predate the Red Fever."

"Such as the All and meritocracy?" I asked. "But those concepts have been around for a many generations." I sat down.

Dr. Heron sat down close beside me.

"The Gracers consider those concept new enough to be wiped out, if possible. Probably because what we believe did not originate among the noble class."

"People who oppose the concept of one god with many faces, and people rising by their own merits, have been around just as long," mother said. "Every now and then the nobles come down with a case of nerves that all their privileges are going to be destroyed by the damned middle class."

"As they should be," Dr. Heron muttered.

"Your name is Heron," I reminded him. "You are from the noble class."

"Just barely, and I don't approve of it. People should be rewarded for their own hard work and intellectual gifts, and nothing else."

I wondered how he would feel about that if he lost his noble privileges. Of course, as brilliant as he was, he would likely do just fine - if he could be civilized. I almost fondly patted this wild boy's hand, which was very close to my knee, come to think of it.

"All that nonsense about gods and goddesses should be done away with as well," he added.

Mother visibly made herself relax. "Kindly be careful not to express those opinions to anyone you have no reason to trust, young man," she said. "Especially not to a Grace committee." She looked at me, as though blaming his rudeness as my fault. "Megere, would you kindly introduce this young man?"

She was correct that I should have made him known to her and Miss Apple sooner, but I had other things on my mind. After politeness was observed, the conversation continued. Dr. Heron ended up being invited to dinner. It turned out he and Tennit knew each other a little from when Tenn took a few classes away from Avan at the other university center of Cambre.

I often marvel at the world being so large, and our respectable social circles so small.

Chapter Eleven

I wasn't the only one freshly returned from sea that was called before the Gracer cleric. Three days after my encounter with him - three days with still no eldest brother arriving in port or being scheduled for the test, but father was back in Seyemouth - Dr. Heron was summoned to the menacing dim room in the main building. He and I happened to be in the library together when the order arrived. I donned my bonnet and shawl and marched across the campus with him.

I had to wait in the grand marble foyer, but at least he knew I was there for moral support. While I waited, I formulated an escape plan for us in case Danil Heron managed to offend everyone in the Gracer's office and came dashing down the stairs with guards on his heels.

I do not think his interview lasted as long as mine, but it is hard to be objective about such things. He did return down the main staircase as I suspected he was going to. I had dashed out of the building the back way, simply eager to be away. Dr. Heron was the sort to make an arrogant statement.

"What did he want to know?" I asked when we were outside, in the middle of the blooming expanse of the landscaped campus.

"Why I chose to apprentice to a naval surgeon instead of attending the Imperial College as one of my station should?"

I'd wondered that myself. "That's not the sort of thing a cleric should be asking."

"That's what I told him. Then he asked me if I would uphold the vow I took to the god of healing when it was well-known that I am an atheist."

That did sound like a valid question to me.

"Your mother and I had discussed that already," he went on.

Dr. Heron had been spending most evenings with my family recently. I still wasn't sure how I felt about this. I'd come to like him despite his oddness, but mother seemed quite taken with him because of his oddness. They'd had several private conversations, one of which he was referring to now.

"I told the Gracer that I had made a vow on my honor to heal to the best of my ability and my honor is sacred to me. I did this in the presence of clerics of the god of healing, who accepted my honorable intentions."

Now that I know you are all right, I am,
I thought. I said, "I most certainly am. Farewell until tomorrow," I told him, and went my own way.

I decided I would become a doctor when I was eleven. We were spending the summer holiday on Welis, at the farm my mother owns in the Lanbins Valley, where the best honey in the world comes from. I recall very well Dr. Apple - our own Miss Apple's aunt - came to his cottage to set the beekeeper's broken leg after Alix ran to the village to fetch her. It was a compound fracture. I was standing in the cottage doorway, hopping from foot to foot, worried for the beekeeper, but even more curious about what mysterious thing the doctor was going to do to help him. I was shocked when she snapped at me to come in and help because the beekeeper's crying daughter was being no use at all. So I helped her set the leg - mostly by sitting on the beekeeper's chest to keep him from moving while she and Alix pulled the bone back in to place.

I couldn't sleep that night from excitedly thinking about all the things the doctor had done and said. The next day, I looked for any book on the farmhouse bookshelf related to medicine. I found several books of my father's on botany and medicinal plants, but this information only whetted my interest. After a few days, I screwed up my courage and went into the village to see Dr. Apple. She was skeptical, and assumed I'd run off as soon as she gave me hard, dirty work, but she did take me on as a helper for the summer. I didn't run off. Back home in Avan, my father introduced me to his friend Dr. Carpenter, who became my and Tennit's medical tutor. Eventually, I became a formal apprentice, and concentrated on medical courses when I entered university at seventeen. With the exception of taking Professor Diamond's fiction writing classes, everything I studied revolved around medicine. I was interning in the Goddess of Mercy Home's plague ward by the time I was nineteen, along with my brother Tennit. When I graduated from university, and reached my majority at twenty-one, I applied for a navy surgical apprenticeship.

All this information raced through my head when Danil Heron asked me why I decided to become a surgeon.

Tomorrow was my certificate exam, and my head was full of questions about questions I would have to answer. His question was from curiosity as we took a break from dancing at the temple festival, but my mind translated it into a list of information I might be asked to give.

Fortunately, I caught myself from spewing out all this information, and replied, "When I sneaked into an autopsy theater disguised as a male student."

"The women students at Cambre do that as well. Did you don a fake mustache?"

"No. I pretended to be my brother - sitting down."

While I am tall for a woman, I am nowhere near as tall as Tennit, but we have the same reddish-brown hair and similar face shape. I pulled up the hood of his borrowed scholar's robe and sat in the front row of the student benches, trying to lounge in the same sloppy, relaxed way he did. No one was fooled of course. But as long as the fiction that no women may attend surgical lectures was maintained - to insure that the classes are approved by the Imperial College of Surgeons far away in Loudon - no one complained about me. Or the women pretending to be men sitting on either side of me. A generation before we would have been tossed out of the university for showing an unladylike interest in anatomy, blood, and knives. A generation before that we would have faced legal charges and punishment serving in an ascetic temple until we'd learned our place.

Times did change, if not as fast as many of us would have liked. Unfortunately, the plague which ravaged the world was the main source of change. With the population so diminished, keeping women from necessary professions, no matter how much blood and violence we delicate creatures were exposed to, became an obsolete notion. The military embraced this new reality more easily than other parts of society. Not that there had yet been any women to rise to the rank of admiral or general, or even ship's captain, but more women were being accepted by the officer corps every year. As well as the Naval Corps of Surgeons.

"I was the only woman in my medical class that wanted more than advanced anatomy knowledge from the surgical lectures. I wanted a scalpel in my hand. So, of course I had to apply to the navy."

We were seated on a bench beneath a flowering fruit tree in the temple's large garden. Tables were set up on the lawn, strings of tiny moss lanterns strung overhead, high enough up so that there was only the occasional sneeze from someone lingering too long under a light. Candles and moonlight added to the evening's pleasant glow. Ladies showed off jewel-bright evening dresses, gentlemen dressed in equally bright evening coats, or the newer fashion of black jackets and trousers with white shirts and vivid brocade vests. I was in gold silk, Dr. Heron looked elegant in black and white. He'd informed me earlier that he didn't own anything but black and white, for convenience rather than fashion.

Belladem had performed a long hymn and two popular songs early in the evening, and was going to sing again later. Right now, a group of musicians played for the dance sets This was my first social occasion on dry land in a long time and I tried to enjoy the conversation, the dancing, and the music.

I could make out my parents among the dancers, the pair of them gazing at each other like the giddiest of newlyweds. The family's actual newlyweds were seated at a nearby table. Rassi looked lovely in her new deep rose evening dress. She was eating a dish of pudding, with Tenn gazing at her in wonder, as if he'd never seen anyone eat before.

Chapter Twelve

I stopped.

Not because of what Dr. Heron said.

I saw a tall man moving among the dancers, graceful and sure, his ginger hair bright in the moss light. He wasn't a man for smiling much, but Dr. Samel Swan's features were lit with a happy, affectionate grin directed at his dancing partner. The sight of him like this both warmed and froze my heart.

It hurt me to see him looking at another woman in a way that he would never look at me. But that was just the way it should be, of course.

I liked that he was wearing a green brocade jacket; no slave to fashion, or convenience, was Dr. Swan. When he took his partner's hands and whirled her in the next steps of the dance I forced my gaze to her. She wore yellow, which showed off her black hair and tan skin to perfection. She was quite attractive, with a full mouth and very large eyes. Her smile and glance was only for the man dancing with her.