“Good question,” Tarma acknowledged. “The way these things work is that even though Keth vowed her children to the Clan, what she vowed was that they’d have the right to become Clan, not that they had to. It’s the younglings who decide for themselves where they want to go. We don’t make anyone do anything they aren’t suited for—the Plains are too harsh and unforgiving for anyone who doesn’t love them to survive there. So—when we’ve got a case like Keth‘s, vowed younglings of adopted blood, the children spend half their time with the Clans until they’re sixteen, then they choose whether they want to become Shin’a‘in in full, or go off on their own. Five of those aunts and uncles of yours chose Shin’a‘in ways and the Tale’sedrin banner when they came of age to make the choice.”

“Mother didn’t. And?” Kero asked curiously. Why would anyone choose to stay here? The Keep may be the most boring backwater in the world.

“I was getting to that.” Tarma gave her one of those looks. “Of the two that didn’t go with the Clans, one picked up where his mother left off, and took over the White Winds sorcery school she’d founded and set up at the Keep—just moved it off onto property he’d swindl—ahem.”

She cast a sideways glance at Kethry, who only seemed amused to Kero. “Excuse me. Earned. That’s your uncle Jendar. It’s not that he didn’t like Clan life, it’s that he’s Adept-potential, and all that mage-talent would be wasted out there. There’s another son, and he’s mage-gifted as well. That’s your uncle Jadrek, only he’s a Shin‘a’in shaman. But your mother Lenore was last-born, your grandfather died when she was very small and we had some problems with the school that kept us busy. Maybe too busy. She—well—” Tarma coughed, and looked embarrassed. “Let’s say she was different. Scared to death of horses, and had fits over the Clan style of living, so we stopped even sending her out to the Plains. Bookish, like Jadrek, but no logic, no discipline, no gift of scholarship. No real interest in anything but ballads and tales and romances. No abilities besides the ones appropriate to a fine lady. No mage-talent.”

“In short, she was our disappointment, poor thing,” Kethry sighed, and twined a curl of silver hair around her fingers. “She spent all her time at the neighboring family’s place, and all she really wanted to be was somebody’s bride, the same daydream as all the girls she knew. I scandalized her; Tarma terrified her. Finally, I fostered her with the Lythands until she was sixteen, then brought her back here. She came back a lady—and suited to nothing else.”