He blinked, then shook his head.
“Are you all right?” asked Margrena.
“Nothing that a little ale won’t help.” His voice was somehow hoarse, possibly because his throat felt dry. “How long did that take?”
“Over a glass,” said Lhadoraak.
Beltur looked at Taelya, who was yawning.
“I fell asleep. Everyone was so quiet.” She looked at Beltur. “You were right. It didn’t hurt.”
“How do you feel now, Taelya?” asked Meldryn.
“Better. I don’t feel so tired.”
“That might be the nap,” said Tulya. “She hasn’t slept that well in the past eightday.”
“Her order/chaos balance is a bit higher,” ventured Lhadoraak.
“Is that good, Father?” asked Taelya as she sat up.
Abruptly feeling dizzy, Beltur lowered his head, trying not to sway in the chair.
“Beltur needs a mug of ale,” said Meldryn. “And some bread or something to eat.”
“I’ll get it.” Tulya stood and turned toward the rear of the house.
“You don’t feel good, now, do you?” Taelya asked Beltur.
“I’m a little dizzy.” In fact, he was more than a little dizzy and faint, so much so that he lost track of what the others around him were saying.
Then Tulya reappeared and eased a mug into his hands. “Here you are. I’ll be back with some bread in a moment.”
Holding the heavy earthenware mug carefully in both hands, Beltur sipped the dark ale slowly. He almost didn’t notice when Tulya reappeared with a small basket of bread that she set on the side table, but he set down the mug on the table and took several bites of the crusty bread before having more ale.
Finally, he said, “I should have had something to eat after I got back. I just wasn’t thinking that I’d be working with order and chaos.”
“What exactly did you do?” asked Lhadoraak. “I couldn’t sense anything.”
“I sensed tiny flows of order and chaos,” said Meldryn.
Margrena nodded at that.
Tulya turned and leaned forward, as did Margrena.
“There were tiny order shields all through Taelya that were capturing and limiting the healthy chaos of the body. I just had to take them apart, one by one.”
“How many?” asked Margrena.
“I lost track after three or four score.”
“What happened to the order in the shields? And the chaos?” asked Lhadoraak.
“So far as I can tell, it was absorbed back into her body. There’s no sign of it or any wound chaos.”
Both the other mages clearly concentrated on Taelya for several moments.
After a time, Lhadoraak and Meldryn exchanged glances, and Meldryn said, “I can’t sense anything chaotic.”
Beltur abruptly realized that he had eaten all of the half loaf of bread Tulya had brought him, and that the mug was empty. “Oh … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eat it all.”
“You needed it,” replied Tulya.
Margrena glanced toward the door, but before Beltur could say anything, Meldryn did.
“How are you feeling, Beltur?”
“I’m all right now.”
“Then we should be going before the snow gets any deeper.”
Beltur stood immediately, if carefully, but he seemed to be fine. He’d even regained his shields, without even thinking about it. Then he looked down at Taelya. “You are feeling better, aren’t you?”
“A little.”
“Good. It will take some time before you’re completely well again.” Beltur smiled.
A hint of a smile appeared for an instant on the girl’s face, before she turned and said, “I’m hungry, Mother.”
Beltur could not only see but sense Tulya’s relief. “I’m just guessing, but I think that Taelya is going to be very hungry for a while.” He didn’t say what else he suspected.
“I’ll see you out,” said Lhadoraak, leading the way to the door, where he turned to Beltur. “I can’t thank you enough. She’s already looking better.”
“I did what I could. I don’t think it will come back, but I don’t know. I’ve never seen or sensed anything like it.” And that’s certainly true.
“You’ve never thought about being a healer?”
“I’m not a healer, Lhadoraak. Margrena can tell you that. I can do some things, and I can sometimes help healers, but there’s too much I don’t know.”
The snow was still falling heavily as the three left Lhadoraak’s dwelling. When they reached the corner, Meldryn turned to Beltur. “Why don’t you escort Margrena back to her place? I need to get back to the bakery.”
“I can escort myself,” returned the healer.
“In this weather, it’s not that safe. Humor me, and let Beltur escort you.”
“As long as you admit that I’d be fine.”
“I’ll admit anything so long as Beltur goes with you.”
Margrena laughed softly behind her scarf. “Then we’d best start walking, Beltur.”
The two of them walked perhaps fifty yards through the snow before she asked, “What didn’t you tell Lhadoraak?”
“You’re as bad as Jessyla,” said Beltur, smiling under his scarf.
“Where do you think she got that from? What didn’t you tell him?”
“I think she’s going to be a mage, and most likely she’ll incline toward the white side.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s just a feeling, but when I released all that order and chaos, the pattern was closer to what I used to sense with the whites in Fenard. It isn’t obvious now, but…”
“It isn’t even noticeable to anyone but you right now. I didn’t sense any of that. I don’t think Meldryn or Lhadoraak did, either.”
Beltur shrugged. “That’s only what I sense.”
“From what I’ve seen, I’m not about to argue. You’re likely right, and she’s just about at the age where magely talent becomes apparent.” After a moment, she asked, “When did you know you were a mage?”
“When Uncle told me so. I was around eleven or so, but I was late. I’d never thought I would be, not when I saw everything he could do. I’d tried to throw chaos or light fires, and couldn’t.”
“That’s not surprising. You were a black.”
“But I really didn’t know anything about what blacks did.”
“Your uncle didn’t do you any favors that way.”
“Maybe not, but he gave me some training and kept me fed and healthy.”
“He must have cared a great deal for your mother.”
“He did, but I didn’t realize that until later.” Especially after he insisted that I escape from the Arms-Mage because Mother would never forgive him if he didn’t save me.
“Sometimes, children are slow to learn,” said Margrena dryly.
A gust of wind hit Beltur with the force of a blow, and the snow felt like liquid ice on Beltur’s exposed forehead. Neither spoke more until they neared Crafters Lane.
“I never thought I’d be plowing through snow this deep,” said Margrena, clearly breathing harder as the two stopped in front of the door to her sister’s house.
“Neither did I.”
Margrena opened the door, and they both entered. Margrena quickly closed the door.
Jessyla rose from where she had been reading before the hearth. “I’m glad you’re back. The snow is getting really deep.”
“It’s falling even more heavily than it was earlier,” said Margrena.
“It won’t stop any time soon,” predicted Grenara, standing in the doorway from the kitchen, almost as if she were glad to deliver such a verdict. “You probably should be heading back to your own place, Beltur.”
“Let him warm up for a little while,” said Jessyla. “It’s cold out there.”
“You’re both right,” replied Beltur. “I really would like to warm up, but I shouldn’t stay long.”
“Go over and stand in front of the
hearth,” suggested Margrena. “I’ll get us all something warm to drink.”
Beltur took off his coat and scarf and hung them on a wall peg, then walked to the hearth, where there were actually coals—from coal—burning.
Jessyla slipped up beside him and murmured, “I used one of the silvers you gave me to buy Auntie some coal. Thank you.”
“How are you doing?”
“We’re doing all right.”
“For now?”
“For now. And don’t reach for your wallet. I just like having you here, even if you can’t stay for long.”
Beltur almost said something to the effect that she should let him know if she needed anything, but realized that neither Jessyla nor Margrena would ever ask or even hint along those lines. “I’m glad to be here, even if it’s only for a little while.”
Jessyla reached out and took his right hand in her left. “So am I.”
All too soon, Beltur was donning his coat and wrapping his scarf around his ears and across his nose and mouth.
“Just be careful,” admonished Jessyla as she opened the door.
“I will.”
He stepped outside, looking back quickly before she closed the door, and then began to walk through the snow that was more than knee-deep in most places, snow that now fell so heavily that Beltur could barely see more than five yards away—and he could order-sense even less than that. He just concentrated on putting one boot in front of the other as he struggled southward along Bakers Lane, glad that the light but chill wind and the snow were at his back.
He’d traveled three blocks or so, his boots crunching on the snow that squeaked where it had been packed down earlier, still thinking about Jessyla and how and when he could help her, when he was suddenly jolted by a blow to his shields as two men ran into him. Both carried lengths of wood that might have been firewood.
He straightened and turned, but barely got more than a glimpse of two men clad in what seemed to be layers of rags, before they were backing away.
“Sowshit and demons … just our luck … pick a frigging mage…”
Then the two were threshing their way through the snow and down an alleyway that Beltur hadn’t even seen.
He thought about chasing the two for a moment before shaking his head. He doubted he could get close enough to them running through the deep snow, and with the snow falling as fast as it was, he knew he couldn’t hold as many containments as he usually could, and certainly not at a distance. Besides, what would be the point? Just to make their life even more miserable?
He paused, wondering if he was just rationalizing, but he realized it no longer made a difference, since he’d never be able to catch them, let alone find where they had gone, not with the snow falling as heavily as it was.
For the rest of the way back, he saw only a handful of people through the curtain of snow.
Once he reached the front of the house, Beltur stamped his boots on the single stone step and brushed off as much snow as he could before opening the door and stepping inside. After carefully brushing the rest of the snow off his scarf and coat, he hung them up so that any spots that were wet from melting snow he hadn’t been able to remove would dry. Then he started toward the kitchen, but when he saw that Meldryn wasn’t there he retraced his steps and took the corridor to the bakery.
The grayed older mage turned from his worktable. “I’m glad you’re back. I have the feeling that the snow isn’t going to let up any time soon.”
“It’s getting heavier. I only stopped for a bit at Grenara’s, enough to drink a mug of spiced cider and warm up. Can I do anything?”
“I didn’t have a chance to clean the side oven on the left. If you wouldn’t mind working on it…”
“I can do that.” Beltur paused, noticing that Meldryn was working on what looked to be filling for meat pies. “Will you have any customers with all this snow?”
“I’ll likely have more tomorrow. I don’t know why, but it’s always been that way after a heavy snow. Not rain, just snow.”
“Where did you get the extra meat?”
“I asked for it when Farodyn came by earlier. He had extra because some of the others didn’t want it. He was happy to give me a good price for it. In the cold cellar below, what I don’t use will keep for a while.” Meldryn smiled. “When it snows, it often works out that way.”
“Maybe you have more customers because the other bakers aren’t open when it snows this hard.”
“That could be.”
Beltur almost shook his head, before he went to get the scrapers. He took one of the bladed ones, and one of the pointed ones, then found one of the oven mitts made of rags and opened the oven. He was about to start scraping when Meldryn added, “Felsyn died while we were at Lhadoraak’s. Mharkyn came by. He didn’t stay long because of the snow, but he said that you and I should know.”
Beltur stopped. “How did that happen? He was old, but he didn’t seem that frail.”
“Mharkyn didn’t know.”
A second thought occurred to Beltur. “I can see why you ought to know, but why did Mharkyn think I should know?”
“I asked him that as well. He just said that things might change with Felsyn’s death. I tried to pin him down, but he wouldn’t say more.”
“I don’t like the sound of that, especially now.”
“Neither do I, but why did you say especially now?”
“Because…” Beltur paused. How could he explain without it sounding like Trader Alizant was after him? “Just this morning Jorhan told me something he’d learned a few days ago. I’ve told you about the trouble he’s had getting copper and tin and that the last batch came all the way from Axalt with his sister’s consort. Well, Barrynt told him that Trader Alizant intended to take over all the trading in cupridium in Elparta…” Beltur went on to explain, ending with, “That’s likely why Jorhan can’t get any more copper and tin, and why he probably won’t unless he agrees to sell what we cast and forge through the trader.”
Meldryn shook his head. “The trader’s a slick bastard. There’s no way Jorhan will likely be able to get more copper and tin from Axalt or anywhere else until late spring, and from what you’ve said, he hasn’t saved up that much in silvers.”
“And I’ll only get paid by the City Patrol until a little after the turn of Winter.”
“You’ve been pretty careful with your coins, though, haven’t you?”
“I have. I’ve got enough to last through the winter.” And likely spring as well. “And I can still pay you, but after that, then what?”
“I can’t see that the trader will take everything,” Meldryn pointed out. “He doesn’t make any coins himself if you and Jorhan don’t get enough to pay for materials and food.”
“I don’t like it,” said Beltur. “It’s as though just as I find a way to support myself the traders come in and want to take most of what we make.”
“Traders have a habit of doing that.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“Aren’t you worrying too much right now?” asked Meldryn. “All you know is what this merchant from Axalt told Jorhan. It might not even be true.”
“Everything else Barrynt said was true,” Beltur pointed out.
“Even if it is true, this trader Alizant hasn’t done anything yet, and you don’t know what he’ll do and if he does how much it will cost you and Jorhan. Right now, all you can do is to be careful with the coins you have and try to think out how you could deal with the problem if it comes to that.”
Beltur had to admit that what Meldryn said made sense, but he had no doubts that Alizant would do what Jorhan thought he would and that the trader would take as much as he possibly could. But you do have some time to think it over.
He picked up the scrapers and turned back to the oven. He did owe Meldryn more than he’d likely ever be able to repay.
XII
The snow was still falling on twoday morning, and while it seemed slightly lighter, what had alr
eady fallen came to midthigh. Beltur was just as glad that he didn’t have work at the smithy, since trudging through snow that deep would likely have taken a good glass each way.
Instead, after cleaning the kitchen, he swept and cleaned the rest of the house, if quickly, since it was clear that Laranya would not be coming. When he finished, he went to help Meldryn in the bakery.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Shovel the snow away from the bakery door and then start clearing the pavement next to the wall on both sides of the corner. Don’t do more than two yards out from the wall.”
“Where should I pile the snow?”
“In the alley off Bakers Lane.”
With those instructions, Beltur set to work. More than a glass later, he finally finished the strip that Meldryn had described, although he knew he’d have to keep shoveling periodically in order to keep the stones relatively clear.
When he stepped back inside and told Meldryn that, the older man smiled. “You’ll likely only have to do that twice.”
Beltur had his doubts, but he nodded, glad to be back inside and out of the snow and cold.
Very few customers came all that early, but as the snow lightened in midmorning, and after Beltur had cleared the additional accumulation of snow, more appeared, and by noon, when the sky cleared, and the sun appeared, and Beltur cleared the remaining snow and then swept the pavement clean along the cleared stretch, there was a steady flow of people wanting bread and the extra meat pies that Meldryn had made the afternoon and evening before.
By the time Meldryn closed in the late afternoon and began to make up more meat pies for sale on threeday, there were but two meat pies remaining. Beltur went back to cleaning ovens. When he finished and the two repaired to the house kitchen, he had no trouble eating half of one of the large meat pies.
Nor did he have any trouble falling asleep.
Threeday dawned clear and much colder than twoday had been. Sometime in the evening or the early morning, the young men from the workhouse had cleared a narrow way along Bakers Lane, for which Beltur was grateful, especially given the cold. Even with his visor cap, scarf, gloves, and heavy coat, by the time he reached City Patrol headquarters he could feel the chill creeping through his outerwear. He’d also seen that perhaps a fifth of the market square had been cleared, roughly the northwest corner, although he hadn’t seen any sellers setting up on the bare stone pavement.
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