[maikafanawen]

The three boys ran into the surf up to their booted ankles, splashing in the cool, salty water. Adeline watched from the shore, laughing as the ocean sprayed the youths' faces. After a minute or so of that, Calnan, Devon and Callath stopped to catch their breaths; standing with the foam lapping at their boots. Then, unfortunately for the young maiden, the two younger boys caught sight of the relatively dry Adeline standing but five yards from them. Immediately realizing their intentions, the girl began to back up quickly, with a humorous expression of innocent terror on her face. The youths gave pursuit with Calnan calling unconvincingly after them to leave her alone.

Devon and Callath caught up with her rather quickly and then proceeded to push her down towards the water's edge. Adeline protested against it insipidly.

"Oh no!" she laughed breathlessly. "My dress--No! It's dry!"

"I know," Callath said trying again to move the girl closer into water. "What would be the point if it wasn't?" Giggling helplessly, Adeline was lifted into the air and was moments away to being plunged into the cool sea before a voice called down from the piers.

"Come on!" Calnan said, helping to get Adeline's feet back on the ground. "Let's go before they see us!" The four ran back up the jetty line to the wharf and turned the corner.

"Why'd we leave?" asked Devon slowing to a comfortable walk. Calnan threw a glance over his shoulder at a sign staked in the ground under one of the docks near the shoreline where they had just been. It read: JETTY AREA OFF LIMITS.

"Oh. But we didn't see it before," he declared.

"I did," Calnan said coolly. "But I was just a few paces behind you and calling out would have slowed me down." Devon rolled his eyes and Callath laughed.

"Breaking rules Calnan?" The stable-hand clicked his tongue admonishingly. "That's out of character old boy."

Devon and Calnan made their way back to the embassy, leaving Adeline and Callath at the gate with a promise to meet at the Snifter and Song for dinner. The wind had died down considerably and the sun warmed the spring air. Birds zigzagged overhead, twittering absently to each other and flowers blossomed, showing off their new colors.

"Oh cheer up Devon," the attaché said exasperatedly, as they walked in the door of the embassy. The ambassador's son stuck his bottom lip out slightly and dropped his head. Calnan laughed. "It could be worse!" Devon turned to answer but the brown-headed young man had already turned and walked away down a corridor. Grumbling to himself, the student slumped his shoulders and moped up the stairs to his tutor's room for lessons.

* * *

"...the brothers and sisters of the heir were given duchies or earldoms. For each estate then that is suitable for farming, there would be denoted four score livestock, and two-dozen beasts of burden. The earl or duke is then allowed to authorize the building of houses on his land where people may leave the city and hold a successful career in a smaller town. This has shown to be a successful way of controlling the overcrowding in the major cities of Gondor such as those newer ones in Lebennin and Pinnâth Gelin.

"Now, where the coastal cities are concerned, and the lords and ladies therein, the process of property denotation is much more complex. First... Um, Devon?" The fifty-two year old tutor looked down at the young man nodding over the papers on his desk. The quill was posed loosely in his fingers and a puddle of sticky black ink lay in center of his parchment scroll. Before Tutor Pearlle could stop him, the boy's face fell forward and landed in the mess. With a start, he jerked his head back up pulling the parchment with him and sending either end of the scroll rolling down off the desk and onto the floor.

"Master Devon!" Pearlle shouted in frustration, tossing down his papers to retrieve the scroll. Devon rubbed vigorously at the ink as it seemed to seep into his skin.

"Why does it burn?" he demanded of the fumbling tutor.

"It's the component that makes it dry on parchment," the paunchy tutor answered offhandedly, standing up with the scroll and rolling it. The young man scratched at his cheek until it was raw and then walked over to the pitcher, dipping his handkerchief in and soaking it. Then he placed the wet cloth to his face. The water cooled and soothed his chaffed skin.

The incensed tutor slammed closed his folders of paper and screwed the lids back on the jars. "We are done with history for the day," he announced testily. "Now come back and sit down. We've go to get to Astronomy before noon." Glaring at his overweight instructor, Devon lowered his cloth and touched his cheek tenderly. "Stop being so thin-skinned and come and sit down!" Resisting the urge to throw the ceramic pitcher at Pearlle's head, the youth dropped his handkerchief down on the chest and returned to his seat.

"Now," the tutor said delightedly, rubbing his hands together. "Astronomy." He pulled apart the leather thongs on one sickeningly thick folder and withdrew several charts of the night sky, hanging them on the wall behind his desk. Devon groaned. It was going to be a long day.

[ October 30, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]