Coracle, Ch. 6: Marda's Choice (Patreon)

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When she returned to the house, Patric pounced on her, hugging her knees. “When you become an Outremer you need to ask your saint for a dragon because that’s the excellentest companion animal an Outremer can have.”

Startled, Marda said, “But what if I don’t want a dragon?”

Patric was not impressed. “Who wouldn’t want a dragon if they had a choice?”

“I think part of the point is that you don’t choose your animal,” said Susen, appearing at the door to the kitchen. “Hi, Marda! I started on dinner with Mama, so you can go put your shawl away and wash up.”

“You… but that’s my chore?”

“Who’s going to do it while you’re gone?” Susen said reasonably. “I should start learning before you go, so you can tell me anything you’ve figured out about making it easier.”

“But I don’t know if I’m going!”

“Of course you’re going!” Patric exclaimed. “You’ll make the best Outremer ever!” He thrust with an imaginary sword. “Righting wrongs with your mighty sword! Traveling the islands with your powerful companions! Wielding amazing magics!”

“I think Marda will probably be a Hearthkeeper, Patric,” Susen said. “Or maybe a Muse or a Priest.”

“Amazing magics!” Patric insisted.

Marda started laughing. “I don’t know if I’m going!”

“Go wash your hands too,” Susen said to Patric. “You’re grubby.”

“Am not!”

Susen wrinkled her brown nose and pointed toward the washroom. With a sigh, Patric said, “I bet Scout Toby never had to wash his hands in the wilderness when he was following the Savior doing important Companion business!”

Susen sighed and vanished back into the kitchen, leaving Marda alone by the back door. As she unlaced her boots she found herself smiling and shaking her head. A dragon. Really! And her a Knight? Not likely. Susen was right; if Marda did become an Outremer, she’d probably follow in the footsteps of Lira the Hearthkeeper, or Muse Keely and Priest Nataniel. Not that she knew much about art or counseling, but they sounded like things she could learn. Unlike sword-fighting, or scouting!

Marda was halfway to her room to put away her shawl when she realized that floating away on a coracle had become a real choice to her. She thought about that all the way back down the stairs, to the door of her father’s room.

“Father,” she asked. “Is it all right for other people to make your choices for you?”

Both his brows went up. “That’s quite a question, little crow.”

She grinned and pretended to eye him from the side of her face and he laughed.

“Sounds like supper’s almost ready. You can help me up in a moment. Now, what’s this about other people making your choices for you?”

“When people make it sound like you’re going to do something when you don’t know yourself,” she said.

“I don’t know.” He pursed his lips, looked at the ceiling. “Did their assumption annoy you or amuse you?”

 Marda thought of the dragon and grinned. “It was funny. A little weird, too, though.”

“Then maybe you’ve already made your choice.” He grinned back. “Usually if it makes us angry, it’s because we’ve decided we’re not going to and it’s annoying for people to contradict us. Or we know we’re going to do it and we don’t want to and we’re embarrassed about it.”

Marda stared at him. “Seriously?”

He nodded somberly. “Seriously.”

She helped him with his blankets. “Why is being a person so complicated?”

“Because…”

“Otherwise we’d get bored too quickly,” she finished, because it was one of his favorite answers. She smiled at him. “Right?”

“Right. So. Are you going to sail off to the Lighthouse and follow in the footsteps of the Companions?”

Marda gasped. “Father! You knew!”

He chuckled. “It’s my job to know things.” He paused. “Also, your mother told me. She tells me everything, you know.”

Did she, Marda suddenly wondered. Did Mama ever mention how tired she was, or how worried about him? Maybe she didn’t because he already knew, and they didn’t need to make it plain. “Then… yes. I’m going to.”

“Just like that?” he asked, a little mischievous.

Marda thought of how excited Patric had been, and how Susen had been willing to step up to the responsibilities of helping Mama. She thought of Mama hiring someone to help with the farm, and the chickens no longer being dripped on during rainstorms, and of her parents being able to spend more time together. “Yes.” And then, as her stomach dropped, “And now I’m terrified.”

“That’s natural. All new things are scary.”

Marda helped him onto his feet. “Patric’s not scared of anything!”

“Patric’s excited,” Father said. “You know how the church has all those stained glass windows, and some are mostly clear glass, and some are mostly colored?”

“Yes?” Marda answered, puzzled.

“But the same light comes through them?” He leaned on her shoulder. “The same energy creates both anxiety and excitement. It’s just that Patric’s standing under the colored window, and you’re under the mostly clear one.”

Marda said, without thinking, “Can I move to a different part of the church?”

He glanced at her and burst out laughing. For a moment she thought about being hurt, but it was so good to see him laugh, and then she really thought about what she’d said and she started giggling too.

“Most of us are born with a window,” her father said. “But you can learn to concentrate on different parts of it. Your window has some color in it too, or you wouldn’t be able to look forward to things.”

“I’m not really sure if we’re talking about windows or me being scared,” Marda confessed.

“It’s not important now. What is important is knowing that it’s fine to be scared, and that you’ll get through it. Once you get moving, dear, you’ll be less scared and more excited.”

The dinner table was already set when she and Father arrived. Patric had washed up—more or less—and was seated with Scout Toby. Susen was helping mother bring the dishes to the table. “So?” Mama asked.

“I don’t suppose you have any cake left?” Father said.

“No,” Mama said. “But Susen and I might have made cookies.” She grinned at Marda. “It’s not every day one of your children decides to take a coracle.”

“Mama!” Marda exclaimed. “You too?”

Mama laughed. “Marda, love, I’ve lived with you all your life. Maybe I know you, just a little bit.”

“So you’re going to do it, right?” Patric asked.

“Yes,” Marda said, and shivered a little. Nodded more firmly. “I am.”

“Good,” he said. “I knew you couldn’t turn down a dragon.”