Blackstone (Book 2)

by Honor Raconteur

  Rune’s eyes crossed. “Ya have to prove he’s yours?”

  “Not often,” she admitted. “At least in Robarge, I have it clear he’s a free man. Wynngaard, too. It’s Teherani and Orin that give me trouble. Teheranians don’t recognize official paperwork of any sort and Orin is so bad communicating in between cities that nothing I try sticks. That’s why when we travel to Orin, I make sure I have papers on me proving Wolf’s mine.”

  “Slavers are a greedy lot,” Wolf growled. “If they think they can get by with it, they’ll steal old merchandise back and resell it again.”

  “And he’s a good person to steal, now,” Siobhan grimaced. “Because he’s healthier and far stronger now than he was when I first bought him. But it’s rare we have to deal with that. Most slavers take one look at him and decide to try their luck elsewhere.”

  Rune mulled this over, an odd look on his face. Finally, he couldn’t help himself and had to ask, “Siobhan. Is there one person in this guild that ya don’t have ta defend from every man and beast?”

  She blinked, surprised at his question, then laughed outright. “It does seem I have to do that, doesn’t it? But Beirly, Conli, Tran, and Fei aren’t in danger at all. Oh, and Markl of course. It’s just you, Grae, Denney, Sylvie, and Wolf I have to keep an eye on.”

  “Just that, eh?” His mouth lifted in a wry smile.

  Wolf had to admit, anyone would be reluctant to take on members that they would have to defend on a semi-regular basis. Siobhan basically had to keep track of half of her guild, which any other guildmaster would be reluctant to do. But his Siobhan did just that without blinking and didn’t find it a burden at all. He shook his head, lips curved slightly. And people wondered why he defended her so vehemently.

  “Fei, perhaps you can tell us about your people now?” Markl prompted.

  Fei twisted on the front bench, turning so that he could face the people behind him. “Yes,” he agreed calmly, “I do think it’s time. Can everyone hear me? Good. Then please listen with both ears.”

  “My people are a very old culture, steeped in tradition and history,” Fei began with the tone of a narrator delivering some epic tale. “Back in the time when this world was still ruled by a single government, my ancestors were the advisors. They were generals, ministers, cabinet members, and record keepers for the kings and queens. They did this for many generations until the government started to crumble. They tried everything then to pull it together again, to reform the government and put it back to rights, but the decay was too set in. And then, one day, it collapsed completely with revolts happening from seemingly every corner of the world.

  “Many in that time chose one side or another, or used the confusion to their own ends. My ancestors saw the situation for what it was, a depressing end to order and peace, and would have no part of it. They packed up what they could, taking records and books and knowledge of all sorts, and left for a remote area of the world that no man would easily venture into.”

  “Saoleord,” Markl breathed, spellbound by this telling.

  Fei gave him a slight nod and smile. “Indeed. When they arrived in the mountains, only a few huntsmen lived there. But my ancestors were determined and resourceful. They built a city in and around the trees, their structures so natural as to blend into the very forests themselves. We’ve had people actually walk on one of our main streets and mistake it for a very wide hunting trail, never realizing where they were. The place has slowly spread over one mountain, then crossed over onto the other two, and it’s now a civilization in its own right.”

  So. That’s where Fei’s people originated from. It was quite the tale. Siobhan chewed on her bottom lip as she mulled that over. “And why are your people so reluctant to interact with the outside world?”

  “At first, I believe that they did not want to be drawn into the multitude of conflicts. Now?” Fei shrugged, splaying his hands. “I believe it to be pure habit. We are not ostracized if we wish to go out and see the world with our own eyes. But for most, staying where they are is comfortable and familiar and they do not have the courage to leave on their own initiative.”

  Well, alright, that she could understand. When Beirly first talked to her about leaving home all those years ago, she’d hesitated strongly because she wasn’t sure about just waltzing into some unfamiliar city and trying to make a guild. If she’d had to go alone, she’d probably never have left Wingate.

  “But after you came to us, I never once heard you mention wanting to go back…?”

  “It’s a long journey by myself,” Fei responded simply. “And if I returned on my own, I am…afraid…that they would try to make me remain. I am not willing to stay at home the rest of my life. It’s too placid.”

  After tasting the life of a guildsman and experiencing the excitement of the world, she could well imagine that staying in a city that had no outside contact with the world would quickly bore Fei to tears. He was very much a man that yearned to learn and experience things for himself.

  “I see.”

  “The history that the world has forgotten, we have not. It is why I wish to go there and ask for experts, as I believe we will need them soon.” With a teasing glint in his eye, Fei cautioned Markl, “And no, we won’t leave you there. No matter how much you might beg.”

  Markl, proving he indeed had a sense of dry humor, responded, “Fine. But the cart will be full of books on the way back.”

  Fei chuckled. “I wish you luck on that, my friend. We do not easily part with our books.”

  “Oh, I have my ways.” Markl didn’t seem the least bit concerned about acquiring more knowledge. “But in the immediate sense, what do we need to know about your culture?”

  “Everyone here has heard me use honorifics many times. Always use one of them when speaking to one of my kinsmen. To directly call a name is the height of rudeness.”

  Siobhan made a mental note on that and prayed she wouldn’t slip up.

  “We do not have chairs, not ones with legs at least, and mostly sit on cushions on the floor,” Fei continued, eyes staring sightlessly at the sky as he thought. “When meeting someone the first time, sit on your knees and face them directly. But if it’s not a formal meeting, feel free to sit as you like, as long as you do not lie down. As for greetings, we always bow, but do not shake hands.”

  So, basically, mimic the way that she’d seen Fei act for the past several years?

  “The only other thing is, do not speak loudly. Talk in moderate tones when you can. To be loud is to be an imposition to the others around you. We do not think well of such.”

  In other words, don’t be an imposition to other people at all. Siobhan had no problem reading the secondary meaning to that instruction, and she wasn’t the only one who caught on. “Is that all?”

  “I will instruct you further on the finer nuances as we go, but that is the basics. They do not expect you to know everything of our culture and will make allowances.”

  Siobhan blessed that fact and was banking on it. Certain guild members—mostly Rune and Wolf—were famous for stepping on people’s metaphorical toes without meaning to. But then, Wynngaardians were a blunt and straightforward people.

  Siobhan looked around at the bridge they traveled on. Unlike the other three bridges, this connecting bridge didn’t have the same width to it. Granted, not a lot of traffic came this direction either, so it didn’t need to be eight wagons abreast. But it also didn’t have the same height as the others, standing only tall enough to clear the water and no more. It had never once risked flooding during the daylight hours, so wasn’t a risk factor in crossing. Siobhan wasn’t sure if it was on the list to be fixed and renovated or not. It was just as old as the other bridges but nowhere near as rundown either. The guilds might choose to put this off until the very last, or not do anything with it at all. It was something she hadn’t thought to ask before.

  At least the weather wasn’t scorching hot. They were in the middle of spring now, so the sun could bake a wo
man if she wasn’t careful in this season, but the wind had enough force to keep the heat and the flies away. Siobhan was grateful for it.

  They went across the bridge without issue, reached Orin’s soil, then carefully skirted around Channel Pass to the far eastern side of the city. They were close enough to send someone in for food, but far enough away to avoid being entangled with the guards. The estuary was nothing more than a stone’s throw from where they chose to make camp. It being close to the Exidor Sea, it was too salty to be a source of water, but it would give her Pathmakers the water they would need later on.

  Grae, being a good master, sat down next to Rune and patiently let his student do all of the math. Fei told them the exact distance to Saoleord, Grae told him how much weight to factor in, and Rune started scribbling down numbers at efficient speed. While Rune figured and Grae checked the math, the rest of them set up camp with simple canvas tents in a half-circle. Conli ducked down to the shoreline long enough to get several larger stones for a fire ring, and a bucket of sea water to put the fire out with later.

  Rune and Grae finally came back to them, Grae hanging somewhat behind as to let Rune do the talking. Markl, Sylvie, Conli, and she all looked up expectantly as Rune stopped in front of them.

  “We’ll have to use a rose pattern,” Rune started off.

  There was a general sigh of relief. They may not know much about pathmaking, but after years of being Grae’s stone gatherers, they knew that the rose pattern only required twenty-three stones per stepping stone, which was much better than the snowflake pattern, which required thirty-five stones. That twelve stone difference added up very quickly.

  “How many stepping stones?” Conli asked.

  “We can’t actually go directly toward Saoleord,” Rune explained. “The forest, from Fei’s description, is just too thick. We’ll wind up in the tops of trees if we try any shortcuts. So, I can take us just ta the edge of the forest. We’ve got good, rich soil here and the power of the ocean to borrow from, so…I think we can get by with two hundred and seventy stepping stones.”

  “Meaning,” Markl translated dryly, “That you want us to gather up 6,210 stones.”

  Siobhan, unable to do the math that quickly in her head, groaned when Markl said that number. They’d built larger paths than this before, but not by much. It would take them a solid week to gather that many stones and build a path! Still, it beat being on the road for three or four weeks.

  “Count your blessings,” Grae advised them laconically. “Because of the weight, we nearly had to do a snowflake pattern instead.”

  “There are things to be thankful for, I suppose,” Sylvie grumbled under her breath. “Wait. Did you factor in the amount of weight we’ll have on the way back? We’ll hopefully be bringing people with us.”

  The two Pathmakers looked at each other in surprise, expressions asking, Did you think about that? Me? No, I sure didn’t.

  “Ahhh…” Grae said with a sheepish smile. “I guess we’ll have to use the snowflake pattern after all.”

  A chorus of groans answered him.

  Sylvie heaved a resigned breath. “Well, we might as well get started.”

  As they still had a good two hours of daylight left, that was wise. “Actually, Sylvie, you and Beirly go into town and get us something for dinner. I don’t want either of you in that place in failing light.”

  Relieved for the reprieve, Sylvie just nodded and went off to fetch Beirly.

  As an afterthought, Siobhan called to her, “Take the dogs with you!”

  “Right!” Sylvie called to Pete and Pyper as she moved.

  Waving a hand in a circular gesture, Siobhan motioned for everyone else to get up and get moving. They did so with long-suffering expressions. Siobhan trudged along toward the shoreline, where the loosest stones could be found. At least this time they weren’t digging for stones in cold ground, unlike the last two paths they’d had to build.

  “Sooo….” Tran drawled as he looked dead north. “Where are we going, exactly?”

  Fei clapped a hand on his shoulder, a small smile teasing at the corner of his eyes. “It’s alright, Tran-ren. I know you don’t like it when you don’t know where you are, so I made up a song for you.”

  Tran looked outright relieved to hear this. “Alright, let me hear it.”

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Markl held up both hands, striding toward them. “Song?”

  Both men looked at him, confused at his confusion. Fei figured it out first. “Right, of course. I’d forgotten you don’t really understand Teherani culture. You know that their people don’t have a written language?”

  “I do,” Markl confirmed, his hand already reaching for the leather book in his pouch. “It’s why they have incredible memories, as they memorize anything they need to know in life.”

  And why Siobhan used Tran as a walking memory bank. He could remember anything and everything that he wished to. She, on the other hand, had a mind like an open sieve.

  “They don’t have road signs or anything along those lines either,” Fei continued the explanation. “What they do instead is have a song that describes which direction to travel and what landmarks a traveler will see along the way. The song describes how to get from one destination to another.”

  “Great wind and stars!” Grae suddenly blurted, looking chagrined. He spun about abruptly on his heel. “Rune!”

  Rune, startled, looked at his master askance. “Yes?”

  “I haven’t taught you the songs!”

  “…Come again?”

  “Everyone uses the songs to travel about in Teherani,” Fei explained in the flustered Grae’s place. “Even Pathmakers. You have to know where the paths are, right? The only way to know their location or describe them to someone else is to know the song for each path.”

  “Fortunately Grae’s got a nice voice,” Tran added this in with an amused shrug. “So it won’t be a trial to learn the songs from him. Although I can teach them to you as well. I’ve heard him sing them often enough.”

  Rune accepted this with a slow nod, but he also looked a little unsure of himself. “I, ah, I’ve never sung before.”

  The whole guild stopped dead and turned to give him an incredulous look. Rune shifted uneasily under their eyes. Siobhan couldn’t imagine not having any experience in singing. Oh sure, some people couldn’t sing, but that was a simple matter of being tone deaf. But to never have tried?

  Only Wolf didn’t seem that surprised by this. What, did dark guilds not really sing?

  “Grae,” Siobhan requested mildly, “I think you better teach him how to sing first.”

  “Right.” Grae motioned his apprentice off to the side. “As they’re digging for rocks, we’ll work on singing.”

  Rune looked relieved that he wouldn’t have to learn this new skill in front of an audience and quickly went where Grae directed. Tran cleared his throat. “Fei, song?” he prompted.

  Fei opened his mouth and in a clear, smooth tenor sang about a winding mountain pass that wove through ancient oak trees, rivers that were to be crossed, and swinging bridges that spanned over valleys. Tran listened intently, eyes closed. Markl was scribbling frantically, trying to keep up and record every word.

  When Fei finished the song, Tran smiled. “No need to rush, Markl. I have it memorized. Here, I’ll repeat it for you.”

  Markl stopped abruptly, pencil still touching the paper, and looked at him incredulously. “After hearing it once?”

  A smirk on his face, Tran began singing the same song, in a slightly lower tone as his bass voice couldn’t reach as high as Fei’s. He did not just repeat the lyrics, however, but even his tonality and enunciation was a perfect replica of Fei’s. Markl was so astounded by the recitation that he couldn’t focus enough to write anything.

  When Tran finished, Markl had to swallow—twice—before he managed in a strained tone, “Just how good is a Teheranian’s memory?”

  “We remember what we wish to. Always.”

 
“How much can you remember?”

  Tran thought about that before offering, “Depends? A child can’t remember more than a song, as their minds are still growing. An adult like me can remember a long poem or story. Our shamans can remember full tales and histories.”

  “So this is a matter of training? A person’s mind can be taught how to retain things like that?”

  “Of course.”

  “How?”

  Tran waved him toward the ground. “Let us search for stones. As we gather, I’ll explain.”

  Markl, not one to pass up such an opportunity, promptly put his book away and started searching for stones.

  Shaking her head, Siobhan sank to the ground and started shifting about for stones as well. Wolf settled nearby and asked her with innocent query, “You’re not going to teach Rune how to sing as well?”

  She shot him a heated glare. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

  Unable to help himself, he chuckled at his own joke. “Now, now, you’re good at many things. It’s just as well you’re not good at singing.”

  “And why’s that?” she challenged.

  “Keeps you humble.”

  “I’m gonna humble you in a minute, mister.”

  Not bothered by this, he just shrugged, good hand rooting about for stones. “How long do we plan to stay in Saoleord?”

  Changing the subject already, eh? She eyed him sideways but went along with it. “I’m not planning anything. I hope for a week, as it’s such a rare chance to be up there, and you know we’re going to have to drag Markl back out kicking and screaming.”