by BJ Hanlon
They dismounted and moved toward Fior.
“Quitting time,” Henny said and led him back toward the cluster of outbuildings.
“Glasorio,” Henny whispered when they were beneath a long awning. “They’re summoning the rains.”
Slowly, the glasorio moved toward the edge of the fields. They held out their palms and closed their eyes. Then, as if being held together by marionette strings, their hands moved in some strange movements as their mouths moved.
Edin was too far away to hear anything they said but a moment later a droplet crashed on the ground before him.
Soon, sheets of rain began to come down. The water washed off their awing like a curtain as the magi continued their work.
After a few minutes, Edin moved out into it. A refreshing wash mixed with a slight chill. Edin opened his mouth and tilted his head back. The rain bounced off his tongue in sprays, but much went down his gullet. He smiled. It felt as clean and fresh as the Crys.
An hour later, the cloaked men mounted their horses and took off toward the south, the farmers departed, and Edin headed to the tower.
It was still light out when he got back and saw the small shed about twenty yards from the tower.
It leaned slightly, like a drunk after closing and it looked old, as if it had stood for a hundred years or more.
Soon, he’d have to find a carpenter, Henny maybe, to help him shore up the thing. Edin put Gary inside and gathered a pail of water. It lacked the bare necessities of hay or oats.
Exhausted, Edin made his way in and found Dorset at the stove. “Did you look at the book?” Said the teacher.
Edin shook his head and went to the washroom. Returning, he noticed the distinct smell of a tomato stew. Edin frowned and sat at the table.
He opened the book, ‘Ulstapish for the Child.’ Edin snorted. “I thought you teach at the university?”
“I tutor some of the gentry’s kids as well.”
As he examined them more closely, Edin found the letters could’ve been considered the same as Borsi, but they had more flourishes, dashes and accent marks that changed sounds. There was written pronunciation of common words.
Dorset brought large bowls of a chili to the table and helped Edin pronounce words. They ate and Dorset continued trying to teach the language into the night.
“Why can’t I just learn the spells?”
“You need the spell words first.”
“Then teach me those.”
“You wouldn’t understand them, then again, I’m not certain you know common tongue.”
As it grew later, and Dorset was beginning to talk of adjectives, verbs, and adverbs, Edin’s eyes glazed over.
“I can’t go on,” Edin said near midnight. He rested his hands in his head and for a moment wondered why he was doing this. His talent and his martial skills had been useful as he escaped Bestoria… and killed many men…
Edin yearned for a drink. A strong one. “You sure there’s no booze in here? I thought snobs loved brandy.”
“It dulls the mind of snobs and fools alike.” He stared hard at Edin.
“I think it opens it,” Edin said.
“You would,” Dorset said. He had been hovering over Edin’s shoulder in the a way that Horston would’ve approved of. “We’ll wake early and you teach me to fight,” Dorset said.
“I’ll try,” Edin said.
The next morning, Edin woke when he heard the creak of a bed. Glancing over he saw Dorset rubbing his eyes beneath his rumpled blond hair.
Edin twisted to the side of his bed and set his feet on the ground. A small unburning lantern lit the room from a bureau overflowing with Dorset’s clothes.
Edin had never been one to be clean, but this was ridiculous.
Dorset looked up as the cot creaked and raised an eyebrow. “Tree?”
It took him a moment to know what Dorset was talking about. “Dail.”
“Walk.”
“Cono.”
“Bhok?” Dorset asked. This was in Ulstapish and it took him a moment to figure it out.
“Epic?” Edin answered. “Do you still want to train?”
“Maybe tonight,” Dorset said rubbing his eyes. He stood and moved downstairs carrying a towel and fresh clothes over his shoulder.
Edin picked up his brown uniform. It smelled terribly but he put it on. Despite the fact that he had spent months in the wilderness and then weeks on a boat with terrible smells, he’d needed to launder these smells out.
Edin glanced up at the clock on the wall, it was a slice of an oak tree with thin metal hands shaped like staffs pointing at the four and the six. Edin laid back and closed his eyes. A short while later, Dorset came back up.
“Why are you up this early?” Edin asked with an arm covering his eyes.
“I like to read before the day.”
“It’s a long hike, why don’t you get a horse?”
Dorset sighed as he poured himself a steaming mug of the black coffee. “There are things that are just not allowed on the island for some people. When I requested this place to get away from… I also tried to requisition a horse from my family. I was denied the permit to build a stable for it.”
“A permit… what is that?”
“It’s a piece of paper that states you can do something… you don’t have permits where you’re from?”
Edin shook his head.
“The FAE told me to use the shed… much too short for a horse.” Dorset sighed. “Guess I didn’t think about a donkey.” Dorset drank from some coffee. “You should know, not everyone is equal here, despite the rhetoric.”
“I figured,” Edin said. There was no way he’d sleep now. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“It’s been getting worse. Anyone who Pharont or his friends do not like are given the worst jobs or housing arrangements. It doesn’t matter your skills. I’ve seen the most brilliant alchemist sent to chop lumber, a blacksmith made to clean pots in the castle’s kitchen.”
Edin’s father had left, the magi Laural left… Were these the reasons why? “Why do you let them get away with that?”
Dorset shrugged, “the Otembos are one of the first clans, they’ve always had men in the Praesidium and they control a large swath of land.”
“I thought it was all ruled by the council.”
Dorset shook his head, “they may not technically own the land, but it’s theirs regardless of the name. Half of Brackland, including this tower, is under Pharont’s personal control. His ancestor was one of the magi to have raised it from the sea.”
Edin sighed, so not only was he working the fields like a peasant, he was living under the man’s roof at the edge of the isles.
“Why’d you come here?”
“Casitas. He’s a monster and I couldn’t get away from him. He seems to think he’s a prince and can do whatever he wants,” Dorset sighed. “Mersett seems to think it was because his mother died young and his father spoiled him, gave him everything he wanted… and when his father couldn’t give him something, Casitas took it.”
“I’ve met the type,” Edin said remembering how Dexal used to torment Berka and Kes just to try and get under Edin’s skin. Edin looked up.
“Who’d he kill? They always kill someone… or let someone die.”
“He supposedly pushed a dairy farmer girl from the belfry.” Dorset looked at him for a moment and a dawning grew on his face. “You killed him… didn’t you?”
“Who?”
“Your Casitas…”
Edin nodded. “It wasn’t intentional though.”
“Have you killed others?” Dorset said, Edin kept nodding. “Oh,” Dorset looked up toward the clock with an almost fearful face like, he’d spent the last two nights in the same room as a murderer and wasn’t happy about it. “Well I should get going.”
Edin reached his hand toward his neck, groping for the crillio fang that had hung there. It was long gone. Edin closed his eyes, I am just like the crillio, a loner and a killer.
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He pushed himself from the bed and marched to the window overlooking the ocean. In the distance, it looked calm.
That day he picked corn, filling countless bushels. As the day was ending, Henny offered him a piece of thick parchment about the size of his palm.
“What’s this?”
“Your chit card.”
“My what?”
“Chit card, you take it to the paymaster in Delrot in exchange for chits. Our currency.”
“Did you take a chit?”
Henny chuckled, “haven’t heard that one before.” Said Henny sarcastically. “Come, let’s get an ale.”
“I do need a refill,” Edin said taking out his empty flask.
Edin stopped in for one drink and refilled the flask with a poor whiskey, he was supposedly on credit and they were wondering if he was ever going to pay said credit.
“Got my chit card today,” Edin said.
The bartender had eyed him suspiciously then nodded and filled the flask.
He was back at the tower by five and standing at the end of the peninsula. Edin steadied his breathing, in and out, softly inhaling the salt laden air and releasing it. He let go of the sounds and smells and tried to just feel the world.
He stepped back and stretched his shoulders, legs, arms, and back. The soreness was less than the previous few days as he got used to working in the field.
Without a thought, he tossed his tunic to the side and slipped into the first Oret Nakosu movement. The sun beat down on him and he felt as if he were at the edge of the world.
It was freeing, relaxing like standing on the edge of a giant cliff… though one that you couldn’t fall off but you could fly from. That thought kept the dizziness at bay.
The slow breathing and the steady movements calmed his mind and he let everything slip away.
It was almost an hour later when he completed the workout. He was sweaty and tired, but in the good way.
Dorset’s voice came from somewhere behind him. “What was that?”
“Oret Nakosu,” Edin called back without looking.
“Granite… manhood?” Dorset said.
“The name caught me off guard too.”
“What is it for?”
“Increasing speed and strength. If you want to learn to fight still, it could help.” Edin turned back.
“I do.” Dorset said as he looked down at his fine green robe and then back to Edin. “Let me change.”
“Are you going to be nice?”
It took Dorset a moment, “that’s a father joke…” Edin said nothing.
Dorset returned a short while later in a white tunic with sleeves ripped off showing thin wiry arms. The collar hung loose around his neck and he tied the shirt tight around his waist with a leather belt.
On the boat, Edin had started teaching Arianne and Flack, Dorset had worse balance and posture than either of them. His shoulders were hunched, his arms weak and after the first movement, he seemed ready to fall down.
“You need to learn the stances first,” Edin said. “There is more to sword fighting than just swinging a weapon.”
“Over dinner,” Dorset said. “I grabbed something from the cafeteria today. A surprise. Want to get the fire pit started?”
“What fire pit?”
“The northern reach. I dug one out of sight in case that fat fool comes by. You can grab wood on the side of the tower.”
He found what the teacher was talking about. There was a three-foot-wide firepit, a half a foot deep with white and gray ashes. Next to the shed was a rack with chopped wood.
Edin carried it over and set it up in the cone shape. He took a breath and glanced back toward the tower. No sign of Dorset… he knew he shouldn’t but he did. He held out his hand and felt the current in the air. A moment later, a bolt shot from the sky and struck the pit.
The crash was louder than he’d imagined but the fire started nearly immediately.
Dorset ran outside. “What in the hell was that!” Edin shook his head as he stood before the burning firepit. “How’d the fire start?”
“Magic…” Edin said.
Then he noticed Dorset was carrying a pair of steaks and a jug.
“For an end-of-week celebration,” Dorset said.
“End of week?”
“Yeah, besides the merchants and guards, no one goes to work tomorrow. You know, Losilin’s day off.”
“The church? You have a Vestion church here?”
“Of course, we still follow the old ways of the church, before the reformation…”
The steaks were seasoned and cooked to perfection, a juicy pink center with a flavorful crust on the outside. Dorset poured wine from the jug, a deep red with hints of fruits and spice that Edin couldn’t discern. “We drink with class here,” Dorset said.
The next day Edin slept till seven, woke and made eggs and bacon and ate it outside while watching the sunrise. As he was finishing up, he heard
the ratty door slam behind him. Dorset.
“There’s breakfast on the stove,” Edin called out.
“I got it, thank you,” Dorset said and sat at the table next to him. “Gods I’m sore.”
“Do you want to take the morning off?” Edin asked.
“I have to...”
Little happened that morning. Dorset went to his study up at the top of the tower and Edin pulled out his sword and started his basic weapons forms again. Then he studied Ulstapish.
Around eleven they crossed the bridge into the city with a large group of laborers. Edin gripped tighter on the rope as the bridge swayed with all of the farmers and ranchers.
A boy of about four stared up at him curiously. He bumped into the back of a woman and was yanked back in line by another who Edin assumed was the boy’s mother.
The men wore the dull uniforms of their profession. The ranchers had brown and green striped uniforms, men who Dorset said were construction workers wore all gray.
Once in the city, the people began to disperse. There weren’t any guards watching the road, at least none that Edin noticed. These seemed like the good and honest folk who produced the food and labor that allowed the city to run. Salt of the earth, unlike the city dwellers.
They went to a square where the paymaster’s building was. A four-story brick building, dull gray and as sad as every government office he’d ever seen.
On the north side, there was a small window in front of a line of out-of-towners. The paymaster hid behind metal bars that separated commoner from currency.
Edin glanced around, the city was busy, but he didn’t really pay attention to anyone. His eyes slipped back toward the castle.
Was Arianne in there? Was she thinking of him? He hoped he’d see her, but wouldn’t know what to say.
Dorset tapped his foot and kept looking at a clock tower near the north end of the square. Edin ignored him.
Finally, they arrived at the front of the line and Edin gave the card to the man. He eyed it. Edin remembered what it said. Farmhand, two and a half days’ work. A moment later the man pushed over three chits. Small metal coins with a carving at the center of a wrinkled figure. The face was too small to make out details.
“That’s it?” Dorset exclaimed.
“It’s the rate.”
“Alright move it.” A guard said approaching from the side, his hand on the pommel of his sword. It wasn’t a rough voice, more annoyed.
Edin figured he probably had to deal with people complaining about their pay all the time.
“Three? It should be at least five…”
“Take it or leave it,” the paymaster growled.
Dorset placed his card down. “You can get maybe a dozen eggs and some bread. Not enough for a farmhand.”
“Twenty chits,” The paymaster said pushing them toward Dorset.
“Twenty? My salary is thirty-five.”
“Cutbacks,” the paymaster said and shrugged. “Everyone needs to pay their fair share. Got a problem, take it up with the Pr
aesidium.”
Edin began to notice more people moving closer to them, eyeing their cards. He hadn’t been paying attention before.
As he looked up, he saw a more guards appearing, four from the south, another four from across the square. Another set seemed to materialize out of a large water fountain. There were twelve, all dressed in breastplates adorned with the jeweled fist and swords drawn.
Somehow, Edin knew that they were waiting for this. Pharont had prepared for Edin…
Edin pulled Dorset away from the paymaster while his roommate tried to pry Edin’s hand away.
“Stop,” Edin whispered as he pulled him to the side of the building. The soldiers, along with another group of four began to flank the line. A guard with a shinier helm than the rest strode forth.
The man looked directly at Edin. “By order of the Praesidium, anyone who causes trouble will be taken to the dungeons.”
Someone, a wiry old man stepped in front.
“Haven’t they taken enough from us?” he yelled. A crowd began to form. “Yeah,” a few shouted. “They live in their towers like kings, we get treated like slaves.”
Another salvo of agreement.
“What is going on?” Dorset asked.
“I don’t know...” Edin whispered slipping back further. The people were beginning to get rowdier. “I don’t want to be here when this gets uglier and it will.”
They slipped between a pair of tall orange buildings and down a slender alleyway. It moved straight until they reached a crossroad then they took a right.
Despite the grid pattern of the city, Edin somehow got turned around. He was behind a bunch of tall buildings and the sun was directly overhead.
“This way,” Dorset said turning right down a wider road. A sharp wind tugged at his tunic as they continued to run.
A carriage barreled past them, Edin yanked Dorset out of the way as the driver cursed at them.
“What is going on?” Edin asked. “Is the city always this crazy?”
“Never.”
They were under what looked like a ramp that climbed the city toward the mountain. The distinct sounds of trickling water came from above him.
“What is that?” Edin asked.
