***

  While Sten may have sometimes missed the other village children who took lessons over at the church during the summers, Lady Krin made it fun. She also normally taught outdoors unless there was a heavy rain or snow on. Sten never failed to be awed at the size of the Lady's home on those days when the weather was bad. Who needed that many rooms?

  Silga, the herdsman's daughter, and her cousin Dauksel, a boy near their age, sometimes shared lessons time with Stenhelt. Otherwise, he and the Lady would visit different areas of her vast estate while she quizzed him on numbers or spelling, and occasionally told stories of Kaldevarr's history. Sten thought that he was learning more with Lady Krin than he would have from boring old cleric Mundur in the village church.

  Unfortunately, the lessons of Clarity hadn't been going as well as Lady Krin hoped. Sten was content with what he'd managed to figure out thus far, but he felt as if he was somehow disappointing her. That whole Clarity idea sometimes gave Sten a headache, thinking about where and why things are and are not. Oh, and how "kenning alternative paths of logic" - one of Lady Tovira's phrases - led to enlightenment.

  Sten came to the belief that too much time in that strange way of inward effort might make someone go mad. Besides, it took time to get his brain focused - too much time for his liking. He had better things to do.

  It wasn't as if Sten hadn't made some mental strides into Clarity, however minor. As Lady Krin put it, she was trying to help him find 'pavestones' in his head. These pavestones would be cleared and cleaned and inspected, and that practice of their handling and shaping would lend to the stone's usefulness. These pavestones would then, in her words, make it easier to move forward on this mental journey she called the Road of Clarity.

  To Sten, most of that line of reasoning seemed strange and useless; he preferred places where there were no roads.

  For the Lady's sake, though, Sten truly gave an effort to learn. Makers called those mental pavestones 'tricks'. Commoners called them magic or mystic workings. To him, they were very useful tools. He knew that using them in front of other villagers would only make them nervous.

  Those who had mystical abilities were viewed with wary eyes; respectful, and sometimes even fearful. Stenhelt didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable or look at him differently, so he used his newly-learned tools privately.

  There were only two tricks that Sten's brain had managed to grasp thus far - cleaning and shedding. Both were used for the treatment of animal hides, and greatly lessened the time and labor of making durable yet supple skins.

  The cleaning trick allowed the flesh and fat on a skin to be removed with a swipe of a hand, as well as curing them better than salt would - a useful trick indeed, since salt was expensive. This mystic cleaning did not stretch the skin, although it did make drying it all but unnecessary.

  The shedding trick was originally intended to easily remove beards or other unwanted hair, but Sten tried using it to remove hair from pelts instead of the long process of soaking and scraping. There were no tricks to avoid the steps of braining or smoking a skin to finish the tanning, but those were comparatively short and easy labors.

  The tricks he learned worked well and gave Sten much more time to gather for his family and assist with other chores. Lady Krin told of many other types of tricks he could search for in his head that might be of further benefit at home. There were tricks for cloth mending or dyeing, tricks for warming or spicing food, even tricks for bathing and hygiene. The choices were many.

  Sten just didn't think the effort of learning any of those other tricks was worth their limited use. He was quite satisfied with what he'd acquired - not that he could understand much more - and happily put his known tricks to good use. More often than not, they worked; he'd otherwise go through a short mental exercise and then try again. For the time and toil those tricks saved, he couldn't complain.

  The remainder of the time spent at the Oma-Krin estate was helping Sten's father keep his word. They built a large rabbit hutch and stocked it. A duck enclosure was next, although it took longer to gather a decent flock for that.

  Because of the tricks, more time was available for him and his father to go hunting, which in turn meant more wild game to be given to Lady Tovira. Not long ago she said that the self-imposed debt must stop, that she was feeling guilty for accepting all that they brought her. Sten's father grudgingly accepted her request.

  Stenhelt continued to visit the estate, either by the winding South trail or more often by cutting east through the northern reaches of the Cragwood. Every third day or so for over four cycles had him nearly wearing down a path through that part of the woods.

  The scent of gardens and crops sometimes brought deer or smaller game to the Lady's estate. If supplies were thinning either at the estate or at home, Sten would take advantage of the prospect. Exiting the woods near the cabins at the back of the estate grounds, he'd drop off the fresh and cleaned kill as way of greeting the Lady's friendly family of workers.

  Stenhelt's final common lessons had more or less concluded at the end of summer, although there was always more to learn. He was allowed to ride one of the horses on occasion, always under the casual eye of Lady Krin. He played games with Silga and Dauksel. He and Tull would earn coppers by gathering wood from the rear of the estate where it met the Cragwood. And, of course, he would practice his tricks when Tovira asked. She urged Sten on because she saw potential in him, and told him so. She had hopes for him that he didn't share.

  During all of those events, Stenhelt was able to spend a good amount of time with his father. On occasions of long journeys deep into the Cragwood and onto the lower slopes of the Skean Peaks, Tullgar would be asked to come along. More than just hunting and survival tips, Sten learned other things from his father. Most of all was fortitude, inside and out; family gives strength - have strength for the family.

  His father's old injuries may have denied taking the actual shot or throw, but even with a limp he set a pace that kept Sten and Tull moving. Winters had become difficult for the proud man; the cold would cause his wrist and knee to cramp. During deep freezes, he would move around the cottage with the help of his cane. None of the children made mention of it, and neither did he. The best huntsman of Bruvaal never complained when his aches set in, and he never relented from setting an example.

  After long trips, Sten and his brother would unload furs, meat, and other harvested goods from their hauling sled. It was mostly deer, but sometimes a few heavyhorn sheep, wild boar, or Kaldevarr bear. Just the winter before, Sten speared a large elk from thirty paces. He wasn't sure how he was able to get so close, but the granite blade drove through the heavy bones that protected the big animal's spine. While not a heart or lung shot as his father taught him to aim for, the elk still went down immediately.

  Sten remembered looking back at his father and brother for approval. The two stood a fair distance away with looks of obvious fear and surprise, like they'd both just awoken from a bad dream. Sten was too confused and hurt to ask about their scared reactions, and neither his father nor Tull offered to explain.

  That sour memory bothered Stenhelt for some time, every so often ruining his sleep. But then something else happened that helped to explain his father's reaction when he brought down the elk. It also raised questions that no one could answer, not even Lady Krin...

  Not too long ago, during last summer's peak, Stenhelt went with his little sister just beyond their property to gather plants and berries for dyes. Irisella always had knack for finding whatever flower or herb was called for. Sten's keen sense of smell might have had the same success, but he'd have to search around first.

  And so, at their mother's - and Iri's - request, Sten accompanied her. While the young girl hummed to herself and moved from one bush to another filling her basket, Sten used his spear as a walking stick and kept her in sight.

  When Irisella approached a thick nightberry bush, a red fox jumped out of its dense foliage. Iri yelped, the fox ran, and Sten
impulsively took chase after it. Fox fur was a rare find and highly prized; it would buy the family enough bread for a season and plenty of linen or wool.

  The fox zipped this way and that before sprinting deeper into the forest. Sten gave up the chase when he heard Iri calling for him. Jogging back to her with his heart still thumping wildly in his chest, he realized the spear wasn't in his grasp. That's when he noticed his hands, as did his little sister when she came running up to him.

  Stenhelt's palms were elongated. His fingernails were thick and dark, and had grown into sharp points. Turning his hands over, he saw coarse hair receding back into the skin. His hands slowly drew back to normal size. He looked down at Iri, who was staring up into his eyes. She said that they were very big, the color of lakeshore water. She watched with wonder as those wild eyes changed back to his normal brown.

  Walking back to her basket and his dropped spear, Iri said she watched Sten running after the fox and was keeping pace with it. She'd never seen anyone run so fast. She only yelled because he ran out of sight, and she got scared.

  What Sten saw of himself that day didn't match anything of what Lady Krin described as 'signs of a Maker'. The next day, his mother walked with him and Irisella to the estate. After the story was told again to the Lady, she admitted being as confused as they were.

  As a matter of safety, Lady Krin couldn't contact any Makers she still knew to get their opinions about Sten's 'changes'. The only idea that the Lady had at the time was to urge Sten to concentrate and relive those feelings of the chase, hoping she would see those changes for herself. A full and lengthy effort was given, but nothing happened.