The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [16]
Suddenly the Councilman cut him off. “I do not see how any of this gossip is as significant as the fact that the girl came into contact with tainted water. Surely that is the cause of any mutancy. And is it not still true that your master has no interest in those made Misfit by mischance?”
“That is so, Councilman,” Corsak said carefully. “But that evidence was not available at the time Madam Vega made her initial claim.”
“And your master. Does he still feel there is some hope of a cure for Misfits?”
“Obernewtyn concentrates all its efforts on healing,” the man in black answered somewhat defensively.
One of the Herders stood. “Misfits are not sick. They have allowed themselves to become habitations for demons.”
Sirrah Corsak bowed. “My master feels it is the sickness that allows the invasion of demons, and that a young mind might be healed so that the demons could be driven out.”
The Herder glanced at his companion, an older priest who also rose. He wore a gold-edged armband that denoted him the senior of the pair. “Driving away demons is Herder work,” he said.
“Of course,” said the Obernewtyn representative. “If a mind were to be healed, the subject would immediately be delivered to the Herder Faction.”
“Yet where are your successes, Sirrah Corsak?” asked the first Herder aggressively. “Why should we keep sending Misfits to you, when none are healed?”
The Obernewtyn man cast an appealing look at the Councilman. “You are well paid for them,” he said.
“That is not the point,” snapped the Councilman. He nodded at the two Herders, who again sat down.
The man in black looked nervous. “I beg pardon, Councilman,” he said. “It is true that Obernewtyn uses these Misfits for labor, but my master diligently seeks a cure as well.”
The Councilman eyed him coolly. “So you have said, and so Madam Vega and your master have scribed. Even so, perhaps it is time for us to visit Obernewtyn and evaluate for ourselves what is done with the Misfits we send there.”
His eyes flicked back to me. “Do you admit to being a Misfit?” he asked in a bored tone.
I cringed and gave him what I hoped was a convincingly vacant leer. The Councilman sighed as if it were as much as he had expected, then asked if anyone knew whether I was able to speak. No one answered, and the Councilman scowled impatiently.
“Very well, I pronounce her Misfit by mischance. But you may take her, Corsak. Make arrangements to name her in the records when you make the bond over. And we look forward to an invitation to visit Obernewtyn and to see these healing efforts you have described with such eloquence,” he added meaningfully.
Corsak nodded and indicated for me to follow him.
The Councilman forestalled him coldly. “If you please. Is the scribe here?”
“Yes!” said a cheerful voice.
“Ensure this reaches the people. Misfits are a particularly foul and insidious threat to our community. They often pass as normal for many years, since their defects are not obvious to the eye. We know this because of the efforts of our good and diligent Herders.” The two Herders inclined their heads modestly. “They have lately informed me that their researches have revealed that Misfits are Lud’s way of punishing our laxity. How is it, Lud asks us, that Misfits are permitted to roam and breed among us for so long? The answer is that we have failed in our duty of watchfulness. This attitude threatens to hurl us back into the Age of Chaos, and worse. Therefore, it is the order and decree of this Councilcourt that penalties for aiding and concealing Misfits and any other defective humans or beasts will increase. Each man must watch his neighbor.…”
He went on to explain the various new rulings and penalties, and I shuddered