The Enhancer Read online

"I've got to get back to work. If I stay home I won't have money to send to Grandma Varis." Meeral met Thera's smile with her own. "Home" was now Macy House.

  "If I could get a cart . . . " Meeral said.

  Thera laughed. The Prince had already arranged one for the next morning, and Kaldoat had announced that he would rebuild the bridge.

  "That must mean that Kaldoat recovered," Meeral said.

  "I'm afraid so," Thera said. "I hear rumors of all sorts of things that he's doing and ordering the Duke to do."

  Meeral looked at her questioningly.

  "I'll not repeat the rumors," Thera said, "If they are correct, you'll hear. If they're wrong, they'll disappear."

  With the bridge destroyed, Lenera and Linima used a small, unsteady footbridge to cross the river. But Meeral must take the dogcart down a long winding road, with torches burning at each corner, before she finally reached Spinners' Hall.

  She arrived late. The ice that covered the path to the door reflected the early morning sunlight. As she sat on the edge of the cart she tentatively held a crutch upright on the ice, trying to figure out how she would be able to walk to the door. Even the stairs seemed less threatening to her balance than this sheet of ice. Then she remembered the torches burning along the road. Grabbing the image of the last torch, she enhanced the heat and transferred it to the ice. She melted a path down to the bare earth. As she walked toward the building, the cold water sloshed against the boot of her good foot, but the crutches found their way to firm ground. When she was almost at the door, women poured out to greet her. Now she had to concentrate on her steps while she answered questions.

  "Meeral! Are you all right?"

  "Does it hurt?"

  "Is it broken?

  "Can I help you?"

  For a moment her mind flashed back to that day in the tavern when she was late. What a difference! Thank you, god of Ezant, she said to herself.

  When she got in the hall she heard that two enhancers would not be working at Spinners' Hall any more. They had packed their belongings into wagons and fled Pactyl with their families to be safe, they had said.

  The spinners and enhancers of Spinners' Hall gave so many different versions of what happened two evenings ago when Kaldoat almost drowned that she began to wonder where they got their stories.

  One comment troubled her. "You shouldn't have saved that Colonel Kaldoat," a woman muttered.

  Linima heard it too. "That's an awful thing to say about him," she said. "Don't they realize that he's here to defend Pactyl?" She turned, glared into the faces of the other women, her small fists clenched and her blue eyes flashing. Her actions seemed unreasonable until Meeral remembered how Linima had hovered over the cold, wet Kaldoat.

  When they settled down to work, Linima was still upset about Kaldoat. She took longer than usual to coordinate her spinning with her twin's while Lenera patiently watched until all eighteen wheels turned smoothly.

  Meeral, still cold from her ride, enhanced the barrel of water nearby. She was sitting in her chair, knitting a pair of gloves, which would bring her a few onics at the Accessory Shop, and Linima had finally settled down when a murmur rose near the door. It moved like a wave, passing from one group to another, until the twins and Meeral heard the news: six men had come in the front door. One of them was Pudbot, the Duke's aide. The rest wore the emerald green uniforms of the Lurdonian army. They were talking to Trop.

  The voices in the hall faded to the whisper of turning wheels. Some of the wheels slowed as eyes focused in the direction of the door. Trop hobbled close to the spinners, and stood where he could be heard by them all.

  "Listen to me. Stay in your places. These men are following the orders of the Duke of Pactyl. He has authorized Colonel Kaldoat to draft all able-bodied enhancers into the army." Voices began to rise again, some angry, some tinged with panic. Several women stood up.

  "I said, 'Stay in your places'" Trop said, adding authority to his gruff voice. Women returned to their seats and the hall was quiet except for the unfamiliar sound of men's boots on the stone floor.

  Meeral watched Kaldoat walk stiffly between the rows of spinning wheels. The brown hair on his head, lighter than when it was wet, was carefully brushed back. He pointed at the spinning wheels and talking with a tall, blond man. She should have known MorToak at once, but his green Lurdonian uniform with the sash embroidered with the order of the Gurkon hawk distracted her. Kaldoat asked Trop something. Trop pointed to a woman in a red shawl standing in front of eight spinning wheels.

  "Level seven?" Kaldoat said. He turned to the soldier behind him and waved his hand in her direction. "We want her." The soldier grabbed her by the arm. The tassels on the shawl bounced against his green coat as he began pushing her ahead of him. She pulled away.

  Trop said to the soldier, "I'd be careful if I were you."

  Colonel Kaldoat said to the soldier, "Don't touch anyone unless they resist." With a look that swept the workers around him he added, "We need enhancers of level six or better. Those of you, whom I select, line up quietly behind this soldier. We'll not tolerate any resistance."

  Trop chuckled.

  Kaldoat turned on him and snapped, "What's so funny, Trop?"

  Trop shook his head and repeated, "I'd be careful if I were you."

  The colonel, his back straight and his eyes narrowed, said, "I'm here to establish the defense of Pactyl. I will not have interference."

  He gestured to the soldier as MorToak leaned close to him and said, "You better ask Trop what he means."

  Kaldoat looked at the women around him. Perhaps he sensed no fear or submission in their faces. Under his breath he muttered, "The last time I ignored a warning in this city I almost drowned." Raising his voice he asked Trop, "Why must I be careful?"

  Trop swung his game leg back and forth a few times and looked around at the women. "I think I can explain it best if I tell you a story."

  Kaldoat shuffled his feet impatiently. MorToak laid a hand on his arm.

  "I don't know how many of you know this," Trop said. "Forty years ago I was a sailor on my third ship when I came to this city. My captain said the women in Pactyl should be treated with more respect than the women in any of the other ports. I was young and no worse than other sailors. I was a little rough at times, but never hurt a woman -- never any hard feelings - before I came to Pactyl.

  "Well, I was in a tavern when a pleasing wench passed by. I reached out, just to make friends with her. She said, 'Stop it' and tried to pull away. I'd heard that before. Besides, none of the other men paid any attention, so I started to pull her toward the back of the tavern where I thought we might have some fun. Suddenly I felt this pain in my knee -- like it was burning. I was right. She had lit a fire inside my leg.

  "When I began yelling the men said, 'She gave you warning. You're lucky she didn't light that fire in your heart.'"

  I limped back to the ship, but the captain didn't want a cripple. So I stayed in Pactyl. After a few years I set up Spinners' Hall and let enhancers work for me rather than against me."

  "An enhancer can hurt you that much?" Kaldoat looked at the pant leg that covered Trop's knee, as if he needed to see the bare knee to verify the story. The circle of women around him were smiling, smiles that Kaldoat did not think were friendly.

  "Feel the walls and floors of this room," Trop said. "Feel the water in those barrels."

  Kaldoat walked over to a barrel and lifted the lid. A pillar of steam rose, and trembled as he blew on it. As if needing more proof, he put in his hand, pulling it out quickly. He turned to the woman in the red shawl. She was standing about a rod and a half away from him. His voice took on a polite tone that amused Meeral for its absence of sincerity.

  "Can you heat this from over there?" he asked.

  Meeral, with a sense of mischief she could not explain to herself, grabbed the three fires that burned in the fireplaces and applied them to the barrel. She could feel the pull of other enhancers and knew she had stolen heat f
rom other women who had the same idea. The steaming water began boiling, spitting over the sides of the barrel.

  Kaldoat shifted his eyes from one woman to another as a series of giggles scattered over the women. One woman winked at Meeral. The woman in the red shawl placed her hands on her hips, smiling a challenge. The soldier backed away warily.

  Keeping his eyes on the woman, Kaldoat asked Trop, "How close does an enhancer need to be to warm the water?"

  "Some can do it from across the room -- others as far away as a city block. That's why the enhancers insist that every street corner have a torch. Women are safe on our streets at night."

  Kaldoat seemed to slump slightly from his military stance as the women in the hall settled back to their spinning and chattering. Meeral almost felt sorry for the man. He had marched into the hall with such confidence and authority. He had not been prepared to see his control over these women vanish so quickly.

  MorToak walked over to the woman who swished her shawl from side to side, inviting a friendlier advance from the soldiers than she had first received. Looking down at her he said, "Trop. What do you do with enhancers who are criminals? Do you put them in jail?"

  "Wouldn't do any good. We have to kill them."

  "Is it difficult to kill them?" MorToak did not take his eyes off the woman in the red shawl.

  "A bit, but they have to sleep sometimes -- or we get another enhancer to do it."

  "Do the women rule this city?"

  "Enhancing is too powerful a weapon for a ruler. We respect our women, but they agree that enhancing is a productive skill -- to be used for the good of our city. Only in clear self defense can they use it against someone." Trop paused. "The Duke rules Pactyl."

  MorToak's voice gathered the resonance that Meeral had heard from him before. "Pudbot," he said, addressing the Duke's aide, "Colonel Kaldoat has been authorized by the Duke of Pactyl to draft the enhancers to serve in the army in order to defend this city." He turned to Pudbot. "Is that correct?"

  "Yes, your Highness."

  "This woman is defying the express order of the Duke of Pactyl. Is that not a criminal act?"

  "Yes, your Highness." Pudbot turned to stare at the woman, who had let her hands drop from her waist and stood quite still. "It is clearly a criminal act."

  "And what does the government do with criminals?"

  The woman, trapped by the accusing stares of the three men, gave a small cry. "No." She stepped behind the soldier, her shawl wrapped primly around her shoulders. "I was just having a little fun," she muttered.

  Kaldoat straightened up and snapped his command.

  "All able bodied enhancers under forty will be drafted to prepare for the defense of this city."

  He methodically went through the hall. He counted the number of spinning wheels grouped near each enhancer. He had learned that one wheel was for the spinner, and the rest indicated the level of the enhancer. He took every enhancer who looked under forty years old, though he made an exception for two women who had small babies lying near them. He ignored the pleas of women with children at home.

  When he came to Meeral he was so busy counting the wheels that he did not notice Linima watching him intently. He glanced at Meeral without recognition.

  "Where is the other enhancer?" he asked her.

  For a moment no one spoke. Then Trop said, "She does both of them."

  "Good! Line up with the others. We . . ." He looked at Meeral and hesitated for a moment, unsettled by her vaguely familiar face, ". . . we will be able to use your skills."

  Meeral fumbled behind her chair.

  "You can't take her," someone said and Kaldoat turned angrily as voices began murmuring protests.

  "She's not qualified to be drafted," Lenera said in a clear voice.

  "She certainly is" Kaldoat snapped, ignoring MorToak's warning hand on his arm and meeting Lenera's eye. Whether it was the Prince's hand or the sight of Lenera that made Kaldoat's mouth drop open, he quickly located the other twin and saw Meeral dragging the crutches from behind her chair.

  "Gurkan's Gut!" He spat out the words, turned on his heels and said, "Only able-bodied women are drafted." He stormed out of the hall.

  CHAPTER 10

  The noise of six pairs of men's boots mingled with the footsteps of the drafted enhancers. They moved across Spinners' Hall, and vanished out the front door. The hall regained its feminine sound.

  Gone was the easy chatter of happy voices. Suddenly the spinners were divided into those would still earn a living and those who would not. A spinner put her arm around her enhancer as if to keep anyone from stealing her. Other spinners quickly got to work, showing the bond between them and their enhancers. There was no laughter, except for a forced guffaw from one aged enhancer who said, "It pays to be old today."

  Meeral winced as she shifted her leg and leaned back in her chair. Linima brought her a stool and gently placed the sore leg on it, then the twins began spinning while Meeral enhanced the other wheels.

  As she worked, Meeral saw the women who were without enhancers. Some of them sat watching the turn of the wheels near them. One sat at her wheel, alone, spinning as fast as she could, her teeth clenched and tears running down her cheeks. Another drifted near Meeral and said, "If you can enhance two spinners, could you enhance three?"

  "I don't know. Can you work in time with the twins?"

  "I'll have to," she said grimly.

  Other deserted spinners quickly set up her wheels near Meeral.

  The woman began spinning, lost the rhythm, tried again -- and again. Finally, her spinning was perfectly synchronized with the twins.

  "How about one more," another spinner asked.

  Trop stood nearby. "Just a minute," he said. "Let's set you up in the center of the room."

  He improvised a platform for Lenera and Linima so the spinners could watch the twins. One spinner was added at a time. As soon as she learned to duplicate the twin's movements another would try. If she failed, she stopped and tried again later. With each new spinner Meeral concentrated harder.

  They started slowly, then moved to a normal pace. Out of the twenty spinners, twelve kept up most of the time. Sometimes Meeral would drop some wheels, but as the spinners learned, so did she. But there was no question of knitting, or even talking. Meeral had never concentrated so intensely in her life.

  When the lunch break came, Trop brought a cot. The twins eased Meeral onto it. Linima put a pillow under her foot and a blanket over her shoulders.

  "Shhhh," she said, as she shooed the spinners away.

  When Meeral awoke, she realized by the slant of the sun that she had slept much longer than the allotted hour for lunch. She didn't want to get up. She looked at the idle spinners sitting quietly nearby, politely pretending not to see that she was awake. Fourteen women were depending on her. She got up slowly and collapsed in her chair, still groggy from sleep. A woman placed cup of hot sassafras tea in her hand. After a few sips, Meeral went back to work. The tea got cold.

  The afternoon went better. They took more breaks than usual, giving Meeral a chance for some food and more tea. They heard the soft voices from older enhancers, but, in Meeral's group, no one spoke.

  Meeral was so tired at the end of the day that she hardly noticed that she had earned a huge amount of money. She muttered something about taking the dogcart home, but wondered if she had the strength to enhance the pull on the dog.

  "You'll stay here tonight," Trop announced. Then turning to the spinners he said, "Help her into Yolanth's room."

  The room was dark and cold. Meeral lay on the bed in the same position in which she had collapsed, -- not the most comfortable, but she was too exhausted to move. Could she work tomorrow as she had today? The image of Grandma Varis floated in front of her, murmuring, as she did when things looked hopeless: Everything will be fine.

  The door opened with a creak. Startled, Meeral jarred her ankle and gave a cry of pain. A figure with a candle walked in: Trop's wife.

&n
bsp; "Gave you a fright, did I?" she said as she held the candle high. "I brought you some soup."

  Though the woman was well into middle age, she still showed the good looks and the slim figure she must have had when she married Trop. She had an abrupt manner, making Meeral comfortable without any fuss or kind words. Meeral wondered if this was the woman who crippled Trop many years ago.

  The next day the twins were almost exploding with news.

  "The town is full of soldiers," Lenera said.

  "Officers are taking all the spare rooms in town," Linima said.

  "Thera put in four more cots up in the attic because women have no place to stay."

  "She wants to know if you could stay here with Trop so a woman could have your bed," the twins finished.

  Trop agreed. "I'll charge you the same as you pay at Macy House, even though you'll have much more room and have it all to yourself." Meeral agreed, though she would rather have stayed with her friends in the crowded attic.

  "Thera said if you stay at Spinners' Hall, Rephna will bring your clothes on her way to work at the tavern this evening," Linima said."

  The day moved slowly with no conversation to distract Meeral. Instead of the relaxed banter and unreserved discussions, everyone treated her with exaggerated kindness, even Trop. By the end of the day she missed his gruff frankness, and the teasing and friendly conversations with the twins. She had the uncomfortable sense of power over so many lives. Even Trop depended on her.

  Again she was surprised when Trop paid her, several times more than before. The twelve new spinners received their regular pay from the spinning of three wheels. It seemed unfair to the spinners. All wheels moved more slowly and not as much yarn was spun by each one.

  That evening Trop helped Rephna bring in Meeral's trunk from the carriage. When Rephna saw the wooden wardrobe in Yolanth's room, she insisted on unpacking the trunk.

  "I'll get it later, Rephna," Meeral said.

  "No. You have a bad leg. I'll do it," she said. The curls next to her face swung back and forth emphasizing her words. Thera would say it was good for Rephna to help me, Meeral thought. That's probably why she sent her.