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Aralim 24

1479 - 2 - 7 Aralim 24

The air near the window was comfortable because of the soft breeze, and beads and incense kept the bugs out.  Aralim sniffled his nose, and turned the page he had been reading.  Nearby, Hayan was reading another book; he had decided to help out.  They were both reading about rats.  Naeen was, apparently, practicing some sleight of hand tricks, a small deck of worn out cards slamming against the table behind them every few moments.  She had tried explaining it to Aralim, but it didn’t make much sense.  Who would fall for such nonsense? Continue reading Aralim 24

Vaenuth 33

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After a few days in the drinking houses of Sheld, Vaenuth learned a lot about the crime family she sought to learn from.  It was true that Lerran of Sheld had usurped his father Gharo.  The continued thriving of the criminal organization was a tribute to the widespread corruption of the region, or to Lerran’s merits and tactics, or to Gharo’s backwards thinking.  All three of these seemed to be relevant factors from the rumours that Vae heard while she gambled a hand of cards against the bawdy workmen of Sheld. Continue reading Vaenuth 33

Aralim 23

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For a few weeks, Aralim stopped following Miresh to train on the Palace grounds.  She was watching the rat still, willing its death upon it, and Aralim was growing weary of praying over his slowly budding flower.  If he couldn’t help Miresh by learning the supernatural abilities she was, he could at least provide information to support her.  For one week, he slowly progressed through the most tedious tome he had ever read: On the Lives of Rabbits, Squirrels, Mice, and Other Rodents by Master Curidae of Keb’kres.  Hayan spoke in love of the city of Keb’kres, when he examined the authorial imprint in the first page of the book.  Naeen said very little about it, as usual.  Her continued presence in their estate might have been an exploitation of their hospitality, but Aralim none of them minded.  She was their friend too. Continue reading Aralim 23

Arn 5

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The shouting began just before Arn signaled the hunters to charge on a flock of wide-wings, flightless birds that wandered the east side of Razaad.  A few of the animals looked up at the sound, but then they all moved unconcernedly to the north, while the hunters crept back from their hiding perches to see what the fuss was about. Continue reading Arn 5

Lerran 30

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“So you’re a traveller?” asked Alrin son of Jorath, as he regarded Lerran from his desk in a cluttered office on his property in Lo Mallago.  The man was a few years older than Lerran, which attributed to his father’s, Old Man Jorath, age, and had silver flecks throughout his beard and hair.  “Or a travelling merchant?”

Of course, Lerran did not look like himself.  He looked like a short, podgy man, half-bald.  He sat down in one of the armchairs across the desk from Alrin.  He had been permitted one guard, and had brought in Paksis of course.  “Both,” he said.  “My name is Traz, and I hail from the east.  I have a large family, and they all have resources to sell, I suppose.” Continue reading Lerran 30

Vaenuth 32

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“I wonder if Hulean will be there still,” Tagg said, as he did some stretches with his arm and shoulder.

Vaenuth shrugged.  If the magician was, he would present a valuable advantage—as she understood it, magic could heal wounds faster or bestow misfortune on their enemies.  It might even be helpful for the upcoming negotiation.  If the strange man was not there to help them, then Vae’s mission would continue exactly as she had planned it.  She felt the ocean spray on her hands as she leaned over the rail of the ship and watched the waves.  A moment later, she looked up. Continue reading Vaenuth 32

Lerran 29

1479 - 1 - 28 Lerran 29

By the time that Lerran and his friends were led into the crowded Market Court for an audience with the Rebel King, the cloudy weather had been burned away by a scalding sun.  The men and women on either side of Lerran—the Public People, as they were known—watched him lead Paksis, Kolt, and the others down the cobblestone street and under the billowing red canvases that covered the open town circle.  When Borik had led his revolution, one thing he had declared a thing of the past was proper citizenship, allowing any and all people inhabiting Lo Mallago to have a say in the decisions of its governing body. Continue reading Lerran 29

Raya 19

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Raya slept in again that day, though it was a restless sleep.  She had spent most of the day following their battle in a daze.  Half of her mental standstill was an emotional shock, and half of it a medical one.  Lotha spent most of the time at Dondar’s bedside, that day, while Erek nursed his broken arm in a sling.  Lotha later explained that Dondar had been bleeding internally, badly, but by the third day after the skirmish, he was walking around and swinging his arms fine.  Today, Lotha held Erek’s hand, easing his pain and strengthening his muscles with her imperceptible magic. Continue reading Raya 19

Lerran 28

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“That’s it,” Lerran repeated, as Ash carried him onward with a sickly pace.  “That’s not a mirage or a delusion.  That’s Lo Mallago.”

They were descending the highland of the Barren Road toward the coastal city of Lo Mallago, after fifteen days, three whole weeks, on the road.  Lerran had finished drinking all of his rum and most of their water, leading to a few joking comments from Kolt and Paksis, while the other guards were content to smile at his agony.  He tried to put on a tough game, but while he could handle himself in a fight, surviving dry climes had never been an area in which he’d accustomed himself.  He wiped his brow, the irritated skin crying out at his bothering, and they travelled their final day into the city his father had possessed. Continue reading Lerran 28