Weavespinner f-5

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Weavespinner f-5 Page 23

by James Galloway


  Nearly a half an hour of searching rewarded him, however, for he finally found something that wasn't broken. It was a tiny wooden doll, painted to look like it was dressed, but most of the paint was faded or worn away. It had scratch marks in it, and a string had been tied around its neck, which was now frayed. He didn't remember the old thing, but touching it conjured up an image of a darling little girl with big eyes and long, lustrous hair. The memory of the little girl caused a sense of peace and contentment in him that was almost scary. He realized that the little girl had to be Janette, the girl who had taken care of him when he'd fled from the Tower. She certainly was cute. He held the doll in his closed fist, understanding that this little trinket had to have tremendous meaning to him for him to keep it all this time. Maybe it was reminder of the time with her, or just a keepsake of her. If that flash of memory was any indication of his feelings for Janette, then he must have loved that little girl as deeply as he loved his own daughter.

  It was, literally, the only thing he had left. He didn't have much, but all of it was now gone. All he had was what he was wearing, the things stored in the elsewhere like his staff and sword, the Firestaff, and this little doll. Everything else had been destroyed in the wake of Jesmind's wrath. All his clothes, all the little keepsakes and knick-knacks he'd gathered up on his travels, it was all destroyed.

  Despite not remembering gathering any of it up, looking around the room offended Tarrin in the most intimate manner. Jesmind had tried to control his life, and now she had destroyed everything that could have reminded him of who he had once been, everything that he had called his own. All of it gone, much of it before he had a chance to find out what it was and what it had meant to him. It was like she was smothering him, depriving him of what happiness he could try to find in his current condition in some kind of attempt to force him to do what she wanted. He had spent a night with Auli, and Jesmind punished him for it by destroying everything he owned. The only happiness she seemed willing to afford him was spending time with his daughter. Everything else was not acceptable in her eyes. The only friends he could have were the ones she approved of. The only life he could have was the life she wanted him to live. He was just about sick of it.

  Gently putting the little doll in his pocket, he looked over the room one more time and shook his head. This just couldn't go on anymore. He had to put a stop to it. If he didn't, Jesmind was going to completely take over his life, and it would be like he was a toddler again, tied to her apron strings and forced to do nothing but follow her. It didn't matter how much she loved him or what he meant to the other Were-cats. They had to understand that it was his life, and that meant that it was him who would decide its course.

  Jenna was right. This was going to put a rift between him and his daughter, because he didn't think he could stand sitting in the same room with Jesmind right now.

  "Tarrin?"

  It was Triana. He turned and looked at her, and saw that she wasn't alone. A rather short Were-cat female with very short black hair, black fur, and wearing torn old leather trousers and a half-vest of sorts stood just beside and behind her. She was a handsome woman, not pretty in a feminine way but still attractive, and she looked into the room with a mixed expression. Her face was grim, but her eyes looked at him with a strange light, as if she were very happy to see him, but surprised at how she had discovered him.

  "They said she had a fit. I see they weren't exaggerating," she grunted.

  "Did you catch her?" he asked in a grim tone.

  "Mist did."

  "She put up quite a fight," the smaller Were-cat said in an amused tone.

  "Then keep her away from me," he said. "I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk to her. I don't even want to think about her."

  "It's not that bad, cub," Triana said in a worried voice. "We can fix all this."

  "That's not the point!" he shouted, turning on her. For a moment, he realized he was shouting at Triana, but he knew that he couldn't back down now. "I'm tired of all of you trying to run my life! I didn't want what happened with Auli, but Jesmind decided that destroying everything I own was a good way to get back at me for it! Look, Triana! All I have now are the clothes on my back! She had no right to do this!"

  "She wasn't in control of herself, cub," Triana said defensively. "She was in a rage. If she had, she wouldn't have done this."

  "That's no excuse!" he shouted. "She got like that because she doesn't want me to live any kind of life like this! Well, I'm sick of it! I'm not going to sit in a closet and just do nothing waiting for Phandebrass to finish his magic! And that's exactly what she wants me to do! She doesn't want me doing anything I might like! She wants me to be miserable and bored because she thinks it'll make me want to be a Were-cat again! Well you tell her that this little stunt doesn't do anything but make me want to stay human! If this is the real Jesmind, then I don't want any part of her!"

  Triana actually seemed taken aback. She looked down at him with eyes that seemed to be storming with emotion, even though her expression never changed. He knew that she was offended and upset by his declaration, but in the face of what she was seeing, she could not deny him the right to be furious. Jesmind had destroyed everything he owned, and there was little she could say to even make that seem close to being justified.

  "Cub, I-"

  "I don't want to hear anymore!" he shouted, actually cutting her off. He almost bit his lip when he realized he did that, but he couldn't show any throat now. They said that Were-cats respected strength, and he couldn't back down now that he'd set himself to challenge her. It would only make him look weak. "Just leave me alone, mother! I'm in no mood to talk to any of you!"

  To his eternal shock and surprise, Triana simply nodded and stepped back from the doorway. She was going to leave! She was actually going to do it! He watched her go with narrow eyes, afraid of what he had just done but not stupid enough to show it. Angering Triana for any reason was a very dangerous proposition. The other one, the short one, she looked at him for a moment, her eyes calculating, and then followed Triana without speaking a word to him.

  For a minute, he felt rather foolish, and then a little scared, but he knew that he had to do it. If he didn't put his foot down now, they were going to keep butting into his life more and more and more, until he was completely under their control. He really didn't want to do it like that, but he knew that there was no way he was going to be able to reason with them. They had their plans for him, and nothing, not even his own choice, was going to stop them from bringing it about.

  If anything, this was an eye-opening experience. Now he really understood what they were talking about when it came to Were-cats and rages. Jesmind wouldn't have done this if she was rational. She'd know that it would only make him angry. Yet she had done it anyway, because she just couldn't help herself. Now she had to suffer the consequences of her inability to contain her anger, because he was mad at her.

  He stood there for a long moment, surveying the destruction of his room and pondering on what had happened and the things he'd said to Triana. They wouldn't be put off by him, no matter how mad he was, but he had a feeling that him telling Triana that her actions made him want to stay human was a bad thing to say. If he gave them any hint that he didn't intend to be a Were-cat again, they just might do something drastic. He'd have to be very careful around them now.

  There was little reason to stay there. Tarrin turned and walked out of what was left of his room, not quite sure what to do now.

  It turned out that he had plenty to do after he left the room. Not long afterwards, Jenna tracked him down, and she had a virtual army of servants, Sorcerers, and laborers with her. They went back down to his room, and then he stepped back and watched in surprise as Jenna personally oversaw the cleaning out of the room by the Sorcerers, then the refurnishing of it by the servants. It took those four Sorcerers about five minutes to clean the room, gathering up all the debris and forming it into a big ball of twisted, jagged refuse, then picking
it up off the floor with magic and floating it out the door. Then the laborers and servants filed in in a continuous line, bringing in the pieces for a new bed, a pair of bureaus, a writing desk, nightstands, a washstand, a new, larger chest, and two glaziers got to work replacing the shattered window. Carpenters started hanging a new door, and by the time they were done, the laborers had finished assembling the sections of the new bed, an even larger one that took up a sizable amount of floor space.

  He was surprised at how fast they finished. All the furniture was in, a new door hung, new glass in the window, and the bed set up complete with linens in about an hour. After that, Jenna only smiled at him and led him out of the room, not telling him where they were going. He followed along behind her, until they went outside and he realized that the carriage sitting just out of the main entrance hall was waiting for him. Jenna only smiled at him and ushered him into the carriage, then she climbed in behind him. Behind her came two fully armored Knights, one of them very aged, and the other a tall willowy man with dark hair and a broken nose, and a scar on his chin from some past battle. He looked very intimidating.

  It took him a moment to realize that the aged one, with silver hair, was none other than the Lord General of the Knights, Darvon. He almost banged his head on the roof of the carriage trying to stand and bow to the man, which made the wrinkled man's face crack into a smile.

  "No need for that, lad," he said in a gruff, no-nonsense kind of voice, the voice of a man used to giving orders. "When the order came down for a Knight to escort you, I decided I wouldn't trust your safety to anyone but me. I'll be your Knight this day, if that's alright with you."

  Tarrin was startled. "I'm not worth that, Lord General!" he said in a scandalized tone.

  "I say you are. Prove me wrong."

  Tarrin was a bit taken aback by that comment, then he laughed ruefully. "I can't do that."

  "Then you have nothing to complain about," he said with a sudden smile. "This ugly one here is Ulger. You and him were friends before you lost your memory. He was the other half of the Trouble Twins."

  "Trouble Twins?" Tarrin asked.

  "The two Knights that caused the most trouble. Faalken was the other, may Karas watch over him," he said sadly.

  "I'm sorry about that," Tarrin said.

  "No need," Ulger shrugged. "He lives on in us. As long as you don't forget him, he's never really gone."

  He didn't expect such philosophical words from a Knight, and he had nothing to say to that, so he fell silent.

  Their trip out into Suld was very exciting to Tarrin. He had never seen it before-at least not that he could remember-and it was amazing to see the legendary mixed architecture of the city, from squat stone buildings to wattle rowhouses to elegant towers, a wide array of different buildings and techniques. All were altered from what had to be other cultural styles to take the city's weather into account, for it snowed quite heavily in the winter, but aside from that the buildings were very faithful to their original models. Suld was known as a melting pot, a city where anyone was welcome, and the city's skyline seemed to reinforce that reputation. He looked out the window in awe as they passed huge mansions, then great warehouses, then seemingly endless lines of rowhouses and buildings built right up against each other, making the streets seem like shallow canyons hewed from the ground. They went quite a ways into the city, until the carriage stopped at the edge of a very large open area, a square, which was filled with tentes, wooden stalls, merchants, and the people there to buy their wares. It was one of the four market squares of the city, and Tarrin knew that at its center would be one of the fabled twelve fountains for which Suld was famous. There was a fountain in each of the four market squares. The carriage pulled up on the street just at the edge of the cobblestone square, and the handservants attending the carriage opened the door and set a stepping stair at the carriage so they wouldn't have to step down so severely. Darvon was first to get out, then Ulger, and they stayed in front of the carriage as Jenna and Tarrin got out behind them.

  Jenna, being the Keeper, caused quite a row in the city, as the two Knights shouldered everyone out of their path. Everyone seemed to know who Jenna was, and there was a crowd following her around in a matter of moments. She took it all rather well, smiling and shaking the hands of very excited men and women, even touching beaming children on the face as she passed. Jenna was quite famous, he realized, and all the people absolutely adored her. Merchants offered her gifts of their wares as they passed the stalls in the open market, women and men tried to hand her little trinkets and gifts, and several women asked Jenna to bless their children like she was some kind of priestess. Tarrin didn't quite know what to make of it, seeing all the people of Suld lining up, crowding around them, trying to get close enough to touch Jenna. What had made the people of Suld so warm towards her?

  They hadn't come out just to meet the public, however. Jenna had them moving in a specific direction, across the crowded market square, towards what he realized was a tailor's shop on the far side. Ulger and Darvon were muscling them in that general direction, trying to get the throngs of people to back up enough to give the Keeper room to pass, relying on their armored weight to push out a path for those behind. "Next time we bring a phalanx!" Darvon growled.

  "I forgot it was market day, Darvon, I'm sorry!" Jenna called back, pausing to shake a very old man's hand and accept a bouquet of roses from a gushing young girl who looked up at Jenna with total adoration.

  They finally reached the tailor's shop, and Darvon pushed Tarrin inside as Ulger gave Jenna enough room to slip in behind him. Then the big Knight planted himself in front of the door and refused to let anyone in behind them, as the crowd of citizens gathered around the door and the windows, looking into the shop. The interior was a very small room with a counter on the far side, with a curtain behind it leading into the back. There were no wares or displays in the small receiving room, meaning that the tailor was either very good, very poor, or very bad. Given that Jenna had come all this way to come to this one particular shop when there had to be closer ones, Tarrin figured that he had to be one of the best in Suld.

  "Why are they following us around?" Tarrin asked. "It's like they think Jenna is some kind of hero."

  "She is," Darvon told him as Jenna straightened her dress, still holding onto the roses. "You don't remember it, but Jenna was one of the most prominent figures in the battle here. Everyone saw her, this little slip of a girl out there right in the middle of an army of undead and Goblinoids, and I guess it just stuck with them. Everyone in Suld thinks Jenna is a gift from the Gods. It's why I agreed to come out only with two Knights; nobody in this city would even dream of laying an ill hand on her. The people in the city would track anyone who did down and tear them apart."

  "I doubt that it would come to that, Lord General," Jenna smiled. "I just seem to be the one they think did all the work, that's all. They have no idea that you're the one they should really be thanking, brother. Cass!" Jenna shouted.

  "I'm here, Keeper!" a male voice called from behind the curtain. "I'll be out directly, if you'll pardon my audacity!"

  "Take your time, Cass," she called with a smile. "We're not going anywhere anytime soon."

  Tarrin absorbed that. It was a little hard to believe, but the reaction of the people to Jenna told him that it was true. He knew that Jenna had been in the battle at Suld, but he had no idea that the people had seen her and turned her into a folk hero. It was almost a little funny, actually. Jenna had never been one to like too much attention. She was a very sedate, quiet, domestic girl who, back when he could remember, really didn't think of anything more than finding a good man to marry and settling down. It was all she had ever really wanted in life, and now, here she was, the ruler of the katzh-dashi and one of the most famous and powerful people in Suld. Maybe even all of Sulasia.

  Strange, how fate never seems to cooperate with plans.

  The tailor Cass came out, and Tarrin was a bit startled. It wasn't a huma
n being. Cass was a Wikuni, a silver fox Wikuni. He vaguely reminded him of Keritanima in his face and tail, but where Keritanima's fur was red, brown, white, and black, Cass' fur was silver, white, bluish, and a white-beige the color of bone. His muzzle was a bit sharper than Keritanima's, and he was taller and a bit more stocky than she, but that had to be because he was a boy. He had the strangest hair, for it was a definite shade of blue, cropped close and with silver ears with white and bluish tips jutting out from it. He wore a very elegant linen shirt under a blue doublet that was very well made, gored with red satin on the sleeves and with a strange crest of some sort on the left breast. His trousers were made of some kind of very sturdy yet soft-looking fabric Tarrin had never seen before, cut in a strangely baggy style that gave him lots of room. He wore leathers shoes on his feet, which was unusual for Wikuni, he had noticed. Of all the ones he'd seen around the Tower and such, only Keritanima and Miranda seemed to wear shoes. Both of them had very small, dainty feet, though, so it was probably no effort to put them in shoes. He bowed with fluid elegance to the Keeper, his tail flourishing behind him in a rolling manner. "It's good to see you again, Keeper," he said, looking down at her. "What can I do for you today?"

  "This is my brother, Tarrin," she introduced. "He had an accident today, and lost all his clothes. So he needs a full set."

  "I see. It is good to meet you, Tarrin," he said, looking Tarrin up and down in a critical manner. "I am Cassiter, tailor and leatherworker, but you may call me Cass. You are definitely the Keeper's blood. I can see it in you. What did you have in mind, Eminence?"

  "Nothing fancy," she replied. "Functional clothes. Rugged would be good. Tarrin is rather hard on clothing."

  "I have nothing right now that will fit him, Keeper," he said confidently. "I can have something ready tomorrow, and the rest done by the end of the tenday."

 

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