"Who do you think?" Parso looked around at the other men, who did not seem to hear them. Baudolino, Ruz and Omun however had.
"The Ohdrufrid?" Omun asked.
"No. Spies of King Baldric."
"Why would he be following us?" Asked Ruz.
"I suspect he wants Omun back in his forges. Did you see the look on his face when Uwain asked for Omun to be released in front of his guests?"
"But why would he come all this way? Did not Uwain speak right when he told him that Omun had trained the swordsmiths and blacksmiths in the land on these new ways?" Asked Parso. Baudolino coughed.
"Ah, but still it will take years before they become fully masterful in making blades out of this new alloy. They are still beginners in the craft. Alchemy is a lucrative business for many. Some only see the benefits and care not for the higher work or art within it, especially those who are not initiated into the guilds. But even some guild members are more mercenaries than fellows and brothers in the Craft. If one sees a technique that is brand new and useful and can see great wealth or power being achieved from it, they will stop at nothing to have this knowledge. Even kill for it. Certainly enslave people over it. This Baldric wants control."
"Which is why alchemy is banned in Hybron," said Ephron suddenly out of the shadows. "And now you say men are coming after us over this alchemist. I say give him over so we can all go back home unmolested." It became very quiet then. Omun glared as if he wanted to spring from the ground and kill him. Ephron's gaze was cold.
"Who says these men will not throw us all in chains or kill us? Uwain is not here to speak for us any longer. We are no longer guests in anyone's home but lone men in a strange land. People may see us as vagabonds and outlanders looking for trouble."
"All because of him! And Baudolino!" Said Ephron.
"I bring you into my home! Feed you and care for you and protect you, endangering my own family and life and this is how you repay me? That is enough of you, you ungrateful, no good devil! Diabolis pabulum!" Shouted Baudolino and he rushed Ephron. Ruz and Omun held him back. Ephron put his hand on his sword hilt but Baudolino was so furious that this did not phase him. In the gleaming fire light Rapheth could see the rush of blood darkening Baudolino's face.
"Put it away! He is an old man, who has been grievously disrespected by someone I thought was a friend and a man of honor!" Said Rapheth. He worked mightily to stifle his wrath. "We will give no one over."
"And why not?"
"Because I say so." Said Rapheth. "If I say he stays, he stays and if anyone else does not like this, he can go!" He and Ephron held each other's stares for long moments before the tension was broken by Parso. Ephron's hand remained on his hilt.
"While we sit here fighting they come. The best thing we can do is hide. It is raining. I would think it is difficult to track anything or anyone in the rain." Said Parso.
"That is not necessarily true." Said one of the mercenaries. His name was Elfic. He and all of the other mercenaries were watching the scene unfold with great interest.
"I have not heard the baying of any hounds." Said Injol.
"We must move early, before light if this one with the many arms is right." Said Elfic. "There is a hamlet not far from here. Family related to Lady Idwil's clan and my own. He might help us."
"Then we must try that route." Said Rapheth. They separated into smaller groups and tempers flared down for the time being. Rapheth sat close to the fire and remained quiet, some sleeping fitfully. Eventually Omun, grim-faced and stifling rage, from what Rapheth could sense, put the fire out. The next morning right before dawn's light they set off again, sullen and tired but nervous about their pursuers. They rode hard and by sunrise, or what looked like sunrise though cloud cover was heavy, they came upon a hamlet. In this hamlet was a long house and a large herd of sheep milling about the hills. It was in a small valley-like place. Even before they had approached the hamlet they saw placid herds of black sheep grazing on the patchwork of hills and soft lowlands. Dogs began barking
"We may be able to find shelter here. The rain might hide our tracks for now but not for long." Said the Dyrlander.
"Let us follow him." Said Rapheth. They approached cautiously but the guard dog had already alerted them, if anyone was home. It seemed quiet, with hardly a stir of noise but smoke was wafting from its chimney.
"Someone must be home." Whispered Parso. Rapheth guided his horse close to Elfic who led them to the house.
"Are you sure you know these people?" He asked. The man smiled.
"I am related to them. Distantly." Rapheth frowned doubtfully but it was too late to wonder. Suddenly two hounds and a sheepdog came rushing out, growling ferociously and running back and forth in front of the house and startled some of the horses. Rapheth's horse reared up and gave an assertive snort. A man came out from around the back of the house and saw them. He had an old iron sword by his side of which he put his hand upon the hilt. His gaze was full of suspicion and fear but he stood his ground making sure to stay close to the door of the house. The dogs barked and bristled at them.
"Who are you? What do you want?" He asked. Rapheth calmed his horse and patted it, then raised his hand and climbed down from his horse to which the hounds nearly rushed him. Rapheth raised his hands and Elfic got down from his horse as well and approached.
"I am Elfic Dyfridain. You know of me. This is Rapheth. We came from the house of Uwain of the Eostur, a Thane of Dyrland." Rapheth took the quilt from a bundle in a pack on his mount and he took out the little gods.
"Elfic, yes. I know of you, though I have not seen you in many a year and you owe me much from what you took, last time you showed your face around here." The man's face frowned with disapproval at Elfic.
"We have these here, given to us by the Thane and his lady wife, Idwil. We are on our way home but we could use rest and our horses too." Said Rapheth calmly. The man looked at them all carefully and then he examined the quilt.
"Gug! Ru! Illa! Hush!" He yelled to the dogs. They quieted down. Ru, one of the guard hounds, continued to growl but he stayed put. The man finally stepped forward.
"Idwil gave this to you?"
"Yes."
"Well why did you not say so from the beginning? She is my cousin and dearly loved. Who are you and how do you come to be here?"
"I am Rapheth, son of Khalit and these are my companions. Most of us are from Hybron and we are trying to get back home."
"Hybron. Hybron?" He asked. "That far south?" The pink color in the man's face drained. Rapheth nodded. "How did you manage to get this far north? Are you merchants? You do not look like merchants."
"No but we traveled with a merchant ship many months ago." Said Rapheth.
"Are you lost?"
"Not entirely but our journey has been rough and tiring."
"Well, from the quilt and the gods, now I know you are not up to any wickedness, for Uwain would never suffer wicked men nor vouch for them. Nor would my lady-cousin. Come in and rest. I will have one of my sons come and get your horses and water them and feed them in the stable around the back. My name is Godrik." He said, softening his stance and his expression. He threw Elfic another deep frown.
"I thank you so much for your kindness." Said Rapheth relieved and praying inwardly for this sudden break in fortune. As the man called out for his son the rain began to fall again. Rapheth and the rest of the Hybronians were happy to get out of it. But frightening looking dark clouds were starting to form, so gray as to look black, like fat hands spreading over the sky.
"Absit omen," muttered Baudolino.
"I wonder what this means?" Asked Shukala looking fearfully. "Will the gods here drown us? They do not want us here, I think."
"Be thankful. It looks like a great storm is ahead soon which means a torrential pouring of rain. Which means it will be easier to hide from our trackers," said Elfic.
"Let us hope you are right," Said Injol. "My experience is that hounds can track through anything. Even hot san
d." The man called for his wife who came out, in great surprise, to meet them. She was a stout, round woman with brown hair piled atop her head in thick braids, plump arms and a stern expression on her face until she saw the teraphim and the quilt. Rapheth bowed slightly before her, as did all the others to which this seemed to delight her. She then ushered them in.
"My name is Inneth," she said clearing, the long table as they came inside.
"You come just in time out of the storm. We have been expecting it all this week. Have you brought it with you?" She eyed them all individually while gathering cups and plates into her arms.
"If we did we did not mean to, madam," said Parso pleasantly. "But hopefully a bottle of good drink will please you." He said and offered a small fired clay flask of the dark ale Uwain had given them as gifts. The woman's expression softened.
"Ale from Dyrland is always welcome in our house. It is some of the best in the northern countries." She smiled brightly showing dimples.
"Sit, sit!" She urged them over near the fireplace where there were great piles of rushes and a nice fur over the earthen floors. The house was not as great or comfortable as Uwain's lodge with its stone and wooden floors but it was spacious enough and looked as if it might be well stocked.
Godrik had a small stable and a large flock of sheep, which spoke of his wealth in relation to the others in the area. He was a shepherd who had grown comfortable in the growing wool trade in Icyt. His particular sheep were especially prized for their thick, soft wool and business was growing. The sky had grown dark though it was still morning and the rain began lashing against the shutters. The wind blew and Godrik stoked the fire. Inneth closed all the shutters in the house then went to the kitchen to finish her own tasks. Some of the children came out to peek at the strangers. There were four in all.
"So how are we planning to get back from here?" Asked Rapheth to Parso. "You have traveled more than anyone I know and the new men with us have not traveled as far south as the Habad according to Elfic.
"It is difficult to suss out as we cannot see the sky for all this rain but we are hoping to travel south leaving here, following along the River Black again until we get to the Ice Plains. Winter is coming soon and crossing the plains will be treacherous. They should lead us to the land bridge Baudolino and I have seen on the chilyabium."
"Land bridge?"
"Yes, sort of like the mystical isthmus in Pallinona but it never disappears. It appears that it bridges the plains of the Rurriana to the lands of the Middle World kingdoms. From there we should go to Rurria. Then from Rurria to home. I think you might like Rurria, Rapheth. Most actor troupes and puppeteers in Hybron come from there."
"From what I have heard from my own travels for trading," said Godrik, "The peoples who live in the upper regions of the plains or ice steppes are Ephthalites. The Ostrites and Petrities live further south in the snowy plains, depending on who you talk to."
"I have heard of the other two tribes but who are the Ephthalites?" Asked Rapheth.
"A vassal horde that descended from one of the ancient tribal fathers, one of the first tribes that no longer exists. The Telekime people. Most of their descendants settled in Rurria, Ruthenia and other places in the East." Said Parso. Godrik nodded.
"They are extinct but some of their descendents did not take to cities and preferred to remain nomads, ruling the northern plains. They keep to themselves but on rare occasions they trade with others." Said Godrik.
"One thing you must know. The Black River flows from another river above it. The Blue Frost forest which is farther along as you travel south of here houses Ceaga Falls, a waterfall that plunges into the Black River but as you rise out of the Ridge to the plains it becomes the Hilda River. If you continue north or east or west without climbing out of the Ridge you would continue to the other northern lands. Such as Innovech. That kingdom is growing." Said Godrik, flicking a twig into the fire. It popped and crackled.
"Is that a threat to this land?"
"It might be some day. When I have gone to meet my forefathers, I hope."
"It is ruled by the Merov family, yes?" Asked Baudolino. Godrik nodded.
"They are known as the kings of short-hair, as the men all cut their hair very short and shave their beards." The men all grimaced at this.
"Strange." Said Rhajit. "Why would any true man want to shave his beard?" He stroked his stubble to make sure it was still there.
"I know. That is all I really know of those people. I used to be an attendant in King Alderic's court in Dyrland. Until I became sick of the constant intrigues and politicking and decided to become a shepherd instead. King Alderic, bless his soul, was Baldric's father. A good king. This place borders Dyrland so we have quite a few dealings with Dyrlanders. On your journey south you might come to meet mammoths."
"What are those? And how do you come to know our language?" Asked Shukala.
"I am a trader. Alhar is the language of commerce and coin. If one wants to trade beyond his own borders he must know it. As for mammoths, they are what you would call yaryebu."
"The god elephanta?"
"Yes. Long ago they once spoke to men." The rain was coming down in torrents outside.
"I have only heard stories of them." Said Rapheth.
"I will believe it when I see it and I have never seen such creatures." Said Rhajit. The others laughed. Godrik smiled, ignoring Rhajit's comment and looked pointedly at Rapheth.
"That is because most have died out and if there are any that still do exist they keep wisely silent."
Godrik's wife bustled about while they eventually fell to talking in small groups, some of them playing games with bones and tiles. Rapheth took up a game of hadana with Shukala, Luz and Ruz. But he, Parso and Baudolino listened as Godrik spoke of what he knew of the surrounding land in Icyt. It was a small land divided over by several kings but growing in power in the Great Ridge. He spoke of the brewing battle between three noble families in the region and the border battles on and off again with the king of Dyrland whom Godrik disliked and called a rascal and a villain.
"I had suspected this myself." Said Rapheth. "Shukala, you may have to employ your sleight of hand tricks to help us."
"Just remember, it is only sleight of hand. I am no magic priest. I will need good incense, of which I have only a little left from what I bought back in Yeleb so long ago."
"Why did you not use this sleight of hand, as you say, with the Black Alchemists?" Asked Asked Rhajit.
"I am sure they are not fooled by amateur tricks, Rhajit." Said Shukala.
"No, they are not," added Baudolino.
"I have a bit hidden deep in one of my sacks. Hopefully, it has not disintegrated yet."
They remained with Godrik for a few days, safe for a time until the rains had stopped. While the great storm had ended Rapheth wondered about the storm brewing in his growing group of men. He and Ephron were not on friendly terms as of yet and Ephron had coldly rebuffed him several times when he tried to make amends, preferring the company of the mercenaries.
It rained a few more days and then the sun came out for two days. On the first day Rapheth and his men decided to take baths. Godrik and Inneth only had one tub and the baby was having his bath there. They were directed by Inneth to a small pond one hundred footsteps away from the hamlet. The water was freezing and they howled because of the icy waters as they got in but it was invigorating. They caught some of the village women peering out at them, giggling; the most excitement they'd had in some time.
Drying himself Rhajit was sitting on the grass on a small hill, taking in a bit of sun before the clouds obscured it again.
"So good to finally see a red sky again." He said to Parso who along with Omun was coming up the hill."
"Eh? Red sky. Still, I prefer warmer climes now. I am starting to get old. My bones ache for it."
"Come now! You are not that old yet, Parso."
"Old enough. I am sixty-eight years."
"Ach! For a tribal man th
at is only the beginning of his prime." Parso chuckled.
"I am no tribesman. I am the weak and soft epolei, as they say."
"I would never call you that!"
"No, but others would. And they would not be entirely wrong as we city people do not have the vitality of those in the desert. We are not known for our physical prowess." They watched the other men washing and splashing water.
"Omun, how many of those swords do you think you can forge in Hybron?"
"Well, that depends upon what we find once we cross the border. We could all very well meet death instead of glory. It is unlawful there unless you belong to a guild."
"I think we will approach the northern cities first. Galieh may be the last city we go to, the one with the most powerful guilds outside of Egium. Airend-Ur will guide us through. I think a way will be found for you to practice your art."
"Eh. Signs are words. They can be interpreted any way a man wishes."
"True. Many gods give signs and portents. And they can mean many things."
"If there are any gods."
"If." Parso's eyes twinkled. He seemed to enjoy these challenges, Rhajit noted. "And it can take time to ferret out their meanings."
"Understand the sigils in alchemy that show the secret ways of the art and craft of it. Metallurgy, the greatest of the sub-disciplines and its signs, built upon the laws of alchemy, the vast, unknown workings of nature expressed in the secret knowledge, set down in the sacred sigils and texts that all alchemists study and acquaint themselves with. That is what I understand and accept. These things I can see and work with my hands and they are written down in books and scrolls. A vast catalogue of knowledge we can see and experiment with."
"It is magic, just as you said."
"That is not what I said."
"It is as far as I and others have interpreted it."
"What?"
"Like you said. Signs are words and can be interpreted any way a man wishes."
"Only revealed words from on high can be interpreted that way."
"What difference does it make?"
"Those are words, written by men attributed to a god."
Red World Trilogy Page 97
