by John Booth
“I’m sure that there is, if we knew how to read it.” Jalia had a thoughtful look on her face.
“You think they have invisible writing on them?”
“Perhaps, I know of a few techniques to reveal such things. However, I don’t have the ingredients to hand.” Jalia stood. “I must check on Daniel in any case.”
“He was all right a few minutes ago.”
Jalia touched Daniel’s forehead and was shocked at how hot it was.
“Help me, Hala. He is burning up. We must get some water into him.”
Hala rushed to the faucet to draw a mug of cold water. All the cabins had taps that supplied both hot and cold water. She hurried back to Jalia who raised Daniel into a sitting position. Hala’s hands shook as she tried to get Daniel to drink from the mug. Water spilled down his chest as his lips stayed firmly closed.
“Hold him while I try,” Jalia commanded. It took a few moments before Hala found she was propping up Daniel while Jalia forced his mouth open with her fingers.
Daniel choked as water poured into his mouth. Reflex took over and he gulped the water down greedily. The mug was soon empty.
“Can you hold him in place while I get more water?” Jalia asked.
“I think so.” The truth was that Hala’s arms were aching and she felt close to collapse. Daniel was a dead weight. She held him upright with gritted teeth as Jalia ran for more water.
Hala closed her eyes as the strain became greater. It felt like her back was starting to crack and spots of light flashed in her eyes even though her eyelids were closed. Unexpectedly, the pressure went away and she opened her eyes to find Jalia holding Daniel up with one arm and feeding water to him with the other.
“Go and sit down,” Jalia advised. “I’ve got him now.”
Hala was only too happy to go to her bunk as Jalia got Daniel to drink most of the second mug of water. The last of it spilled down his chest as he turned his face away.
Jalia lowered him back onto the bed; his sleep appeared much more natural than he had before.
“I think the crisis has passed,” Jalia said. “He is breathing normally now.”
“Jalia…, what do you do about boys?” Hala shocked herself by asking.
“Why, have you found one?” Jalia smiled and the tension Hala didn’t even know she felt lifted.
“This boy, Nin, he’s thirteen years old and a part of the crew. I think I hate him.”
Jalia paused for a second in thought and then began rummaging in her bags. “I’ll get the Gintel and we can have a warm cup of tea together and talk about it.”
“But that stops women getting pregnant,” Hala wailed in shock. “It’s just that I can’t get the boy’s face out of my mind, he’s so annoying.”
“Definitely long overdue for Gintel leaves,” Jalia said before giving a cry of triumph as she located the little bag that held her supply. She ran the hot water from the tap until it was coming out steaming hot and used it to brew a number of the leaves in a little pot. After a couple of minutes leaving it to brew, Jalia poured out two cups of the tea and handed one of them to Hala, who looked at the murky brown liquid dubiously.
“Mallon banned the women in the Fort from using Gintel leaves, though I think that Taldon women brewed them anyway. The slave girls in the fort were not so lucky. Mallon killed them when their pregnancies began to show.”
“No man has the right to control a woman’s fertility. I’m glad we killed him,” Jalia said before taking a sip from her cup. “It tastes a little bitter when you are unused to it, but the gains far outweigh that problem.”
“My mother died when I was little. She never told me anything about being a woman. I know about sex though, as I have seen more of it than I want. I just know nothing about boys.”
“Who taught you to read, Hala?” Jalia asked.
“A slave called Ladon. Mallon said that it was an important skill that all Taldon’s should learn.” Hala was surprised at the change of subject.
“Daniel was taught by his mother. Many villages expect their old men and women to take on the chore. The wealthy and the powerful take education much more seriously. My father was a rich trader and I went to the Rasborn School in Bagdor. They claim it has taught the children of the rich for over two thousand years old.”
“Oh,” Hala interjected because she thought she had to say something.
“According to one of my teachers, the one who taught history, Gintel bushes were the last great magical invention of the Magician Kings.”
“This is magic?” Hala said, looking even more dubiously at the drink in her hand.
“Not now. But the bushes were modified by magic. The world a thousand years ago was very different from today. There were people beyond counting occupying the lands. The forests were cut down and the land turned to growing crops just to feed them. Some say the Atribar el’Dou desert was created when a forest was destroyed to feed yet more people.”
“Why didn’t they stop having so many children?”
“Because they couldn’t stop being fertile. Gintel leaves didn’t prevent pregnancy in those days. Every single month woman would bleed and the only thing that stopped it from happening was getting pregnant.
Gintel grows everywhere and it is evergreen. The Magician Kings used their magic to change the nature of the bush. Drink the tea from its leaves once or more a month and you never get pregnant, never suffer from the bleeding; though women get moody once a month. I don’t know whether it is the Gintel that causes that or whether it is something else. The teacher said it also prevented disease, though I’m not sure what diseases he was referring too, as we still have plenty of them.”
“And because of Gintel leaves, the people had fewer children?”
“It is difficult to say. The war with the Fairie happened less than twenty years after Gintel was changed. Millions starved as the world fell apart. But the number of people in Jalon has been going down ever since. Daniel thinks it is a malaise of spirit, but I think it is because of Gintel. If you want to get pregnant, you stop taking it, you suffer great pains and you bleed during the months it takes to get a man to make you pregnant. I think most women simply don’t want to go to all that trouble, or if they do, they only have one or two children.”
Hala sipped at her tea. The thought of great pains and bleeding once a month made her shiver. If Gintel tea prevented that, then she was never going to stop taking it.
Hala still wanted an answer to her question. “I don’t know the rules with boys. In the fort, a Taldon could force a slave to do anything she wanted and everything else depended on how closely you were related to Malon. How do relationships work out here in the world?”
Jalia laughed. “You will have to work that out for yourself. I’m not sure there are any rules. However, it is better to be safe than sorry, which is why you are drinking that tea. In Bagdor, relations are illegal before the age of fifteen, though the rich and royalty have been known to marry their children much younger than that. I certainly ignored the law when I was your age. Most places have no laws on the subject, just the threat of an angry father or mother to put the fear of punishment into a boy and a girl.”
“I don’t want to do that sort of thing, and certainly not with Nin,” Hala explained patiently.
“Good for you, but remember not to tease him too much. Boys have far less control of themselves than men do.”
Hala nodded. She had got into enough fights with Pald and Haf back at the fort to know the wisdom of those words.
Jalia and Hala supped their tea. Jalia told Hala many stories about the Magician Kings before they finally retired to their beds.
That night, Hala dreamt about tall warriors who could shoot lightning from their fingers and fly through the air by thinking of it. Whenever she glimpsed one of these Magician Kings’ faces, it was always that of Nin.
3. Mysteries
Daniel looked much better the next morning. Jalia still couldn’t wake him, but he mumbled in his slee
p when she tried. His face had returned to a normal color and felt natural to the touch. Jalia cleaned him up and made sure he drank some water before she would allow Hala to go to breakfast. It was late in the morning before they finally made their way to the dining room
There was nobody else around when they got to there, just a couple of members of the crew tidying up the tables. The rolls had gone cold and hard and some of the cheese that was left looked moldy. They picked out the best of what remained and sat down to eat.
“You can show me around the boat today,” Jalia suggested, “Unless you want to go looking for this boyfriend of yours?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Hala said fiercely. “I’ve already told you that I hate him. He is constantly embarrassing me.”
Jalia grinned at Hala, “That’s often how it starts, especially when he admires you at the same time as he embarrasses you.”
This comment struck a chord with Hala and her face flushed.
“I’ve only really seen the viewing platform,” Hala admitted as they got up to leave.
“Then we shall start at the viewing platform before going around this boat from bow to stern, not to mention, top to bottom,” Jalia said brightly. She leaned close to Hala’s ear and whispered, “And if that gives me the chance to figure out where Lady Sorn might have hidden my ring, so much the better.”
Hala dutifully led Jalia through the corridor and onto the deck until they reached the base of the steps leading to the platform. The wind was blowing stronger than yesterday and the Steam Dragon swayed noticeably even at the base of its funnel. The steps leading to the platform seemed much steeper than they did the day before and Hala took a deep breath before she started to climb.
Jalia shouted to be heard above the wind. “You don’t have to go up if you don’t want too.” She had seen the look of fear in Hala’s eyes.
Hala shouted back. “I did it yesterday and I can do it today. I must warn you that Nin may be hiding somewhere and he likes to look up girl’s skirts.”
Jalia laughed. “I don’t mind him looking. I’m shaped much the same way as any other woman. But if he tries to touch me, I may have to strip him naked and tie him to the top of the funnel.”
Hala laughed at the image that conjured up in her mind and steadied herself as she began to climb. The trouble with climbing was the steps were open to the wind, which blew across them. Hala climbed as fast as she could to get to the top and onto the platform where she would be safe.
Jalia followed behind her, being careful to position herself so that if Hala fell, she had a chance of catching her on the way down. The steps swayed violently from side to side as they climbed. Jalia chanced to look down as they reached top of the second flight and saw a boy’s face looking up at them from beneath the steps.
Being the kind of person she was, Jalia lifted up her skirt to her belt for a few seconds to let the boy get a good look. She saw him fall over and bang his head on a bulkhead. “He wasn’t prepared for that,” she said with quiet satisfaction.
Hala timed when she climbed to match the swaying of the boat. If she moved when the steps were swinging out, she felt that she might fall off at the end of the flight of steps. She noticed that Jalia was totally unconcerned by the movements of the boat and wasn’t even holding onto the rail as she climbed behind her. Hala was angry that Jalia made it look so easy; it increased her determination to reach the top unaided.
When she finally got to the viewing platform Hala grabbed onto the inner rail, fastened as it was to the funnel, and wrapped her arms around it. Jalia sauntered up behind her, able to anticipate the motions of the boat and compensate for them. She helped Hala walk around the funnel until they were shielded from the wind.
The sudden silence as they moved out of the wind was stunning. The lack of wind made it feel much warmer. The boat’s motion felt less too, as the boat was rolling more than pitching. It took Hala a few seconds to notice that they were not alone.
Lady Sala Rotiln stood on the platform with Halad al’Farad and the cloaked man they had seen them talking to the evening before. Sala and the cloaked man leaned out over the guard rail, apparently enjoying the sensation. Halad held tightly onto the inner rail and looked as though he was going to be sick at any moment. He had his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open. He moaned quietly.
Jalia skipped over to the outer rail to join Lady Rotiln and leaned out as the boat rolled. Hala was convinced Jalia was going to fall and almost left the safety of her rail to try and grab her. However, her subconscious decided otherwise and she found she couldn’t let go.
“Isn’t this fun!” Jalia shouted cheerfully to Lady Rotiln. She did this at the worst possible moment of the sway and Sala began to fall, having loosened her grip on the rail at Jalia’s shout.
Jalia grabbed her shoulder and helped her back onto the platform.
“Oops, sorry. I wasn’t thinking I’m afraid,” Jalia said brightly.
Sala Rotiln glared at her. Her eyes took in Hala clinging anxiously to the inner rail. The cloaked man noticed the exchange between the women and he turned to face Jalia. Hala still couldn’t see what he looked like under his hood and doubted Jalia could either.
“No matter child,” Sala said in a voice that barely suppressed the rage she felt. “You must be Hala’s older sister. I wondered where her strange taste in clothes came from.”
“You must be Lady Sala Rotiln, defender of the something or other in some place I’ve never heard of. Hala mentioned meeting you and your jeweler friend.” Jalia smiled brightly, but to Hala her smile looked more threatening than friendly. She wondered why Jalia was so eager to make an enemy of the woman.
“You have the advantage of me,” Lady Sala said with an equally chilling smile. “You are, I take it, another Taldon?”
“Oh no,” Jalia said as if shocked by the suggestion. “My name is Jalia al’Dare and I killed all the Taldons, excepting Hala of course.”
Lady Sala laughed and waved towards Halad. “She tells me her name is Jalia al’Dare. How many women have said that recently? Is it three or is it four? It seems that young women travelling alone think it makes them safer if they claim to be a mythical hero.” She turned back to Jalia, “Do you even know how to use the sword you carry on your back?”
Halad giggled in appreciation at Lady Sala’s humor. He would have laughed out loud, but was certain such an action would cause him to lose his breakfast. His giggles turned to a horrified gasp as Jalia let go of the rail and drew her sword. She pointed it at Lady Sala’s left breast.
The Steam Dragon swayed dangerously and Lady Sala was thrown towards Jalia. Jalia moved the sword back exactly as much as Sala moved forward. She kept her legs spread and compensated for both the movement of the platform and Lady Sala. The point of her sword pressed hard enough for Lady Sala to feel the prick of cold steel against her skin.
Hala noted that Jalia held the blade horizontal, which meant that should she make the slightest mistake the sword would slide cleanly between Lady Sala’s ribs and to her heart. Daniel had explained the value of such a stance during the training he had been giving her. Jalia and Daniel wouldn’t let Hala wear her sword in public. Much to her annoyance; she was only allowed to carry the knife.
Jalia turned her head and raised her right eyebrow in enquiry as she held Lady Sala’s gaze. The woman sweated copiously as she tried to hold her body steady against the motions of the boat.
“I concede that you do know how to use your sword,” Sala said, her voice sounding strange and throaty to Hala’s ears.
Jalia sheathed her blade as swiftly as she had drawn it.
“I see you are a fighting woman,” a dry voice remarked. Hala realized it came from the man in the hooded cloak.
“If we had been fighting, Lady Sala would be dead,” Jalia replied. “I simply did not care for the implication she made that I might be a liar.”
“You are heading towards a city that believes itself to be at war. It isn’t yet. There are mer
ely skirmishes between the factions. But it might become a war very soon. Who side will you be on when the fighting starts, Jalia al’Dare?”
“How many sides are there to choose from, my hidden friend?”
The hooded man laughed and flung back the hood so Jalia could see his face. He was a man in his fifties, his hair beginning to grey. He had a look of authority about him. His face was lined with wrinkles, his skin looking like old leather.
“My name is Jak Venjer and you are the first person to reply to that question with one of your own. And it is a powerful question you ask. The city of Slarn has three obvious sides, those of Jenver, Tallis and Dalk, which are the Triums. But there are other factions that seek to force the Triums to dance to their tune. These puppet masters seek financial gain out of the emotions of the people; emotions that are already running far too high. So I ask you again, why are you traveling to Slarn, and which faction has hired you?”
“No one has hired me,” Jalia stated. “I am not the kind of person to accept contracts of that kind. I will, of course, offer my loyalty and support to whoever is the rightful ruler, provided they do not step on my toes. Now sir, may I ask, whose side are you on?”
Jak pulled the hood back over his face. “Like you, I prefer to dance to my own tune. I am but a simple healer. I understand that your companion, Daniel, is sick. Would you care to purchase my services?”
“Daniel will recover without your assistance, though I thank you for your offer.”
“Then, if you fair ladies will excuse me, I have other things to do.” Jak slid past Jalia and walked down the steps, as unconcerned by the boat’s motion as Jalia had been.
“Perhaps we have got off on the wrong foot,” Lady Sala said apologetically. “I am willing to start again if you will do the same?”
“Of course, my lady.” Jalia gave Sala a small nod. “Perhaps you would care to dine with Hala and me tonight. It is unlikely that Daniel will choose to attend, given his indisposition.”
“I would love to dine with you,” Lady Sala said smiling. “Halad and I will meet you in the dining room at seven, if that is all right?”
