by C. R. Daems
He snorted but said nothing for the rest of the trek down the hill. There a man waited with three horses. Two were warhorses. They stood sixteen hands tall with broad chests, one a midnight black and the other a dark brown with white hocks.
The third horse stood a hand shorter but built for speed with its long neck, deep chest, lean body, and long legs. His eyes tracked my every move as we approached. I felt him evaluating me like a horse breeder would evaluate him before buying. I walked up to him and rested my hand against his neck, letting Qi flow into him. In response, he lowered his head onto my chest. As I stood there captivated, Sandar approached with the other man.
"Qi'Nisha, this is Sir Harkin, my military advisor, the head of my security, and a trusted friend. Harkin, meet my Qi'advisor."
Harkin froze for a moment and then smiled. "I'm pleased to meet you, qi'Nisha. Anyone Windrunner bows to is certainly deserving of the title of Qi. Welcome."
Sandar swung into the saddle. "Mount up. I want to be in Xihu by sunrise tomorrow. Qi'Nisha?" He watched me mount.
"I won't delay you, Your Grace," I said, leaning over Windrunner's long neck and whispering into his ear. "You're free to race the wind. I'll not hinder you."
With that, he lunged into a fast canter, and I used Qi to lighten myself. No one spoke as we rode, alternating a canter with a walk to rest the mounts, through the afternoon and into the evening. Sandar called a halt a couple of hours after dark, when he realized Harkin's horse and his were lathered and heaving for breath. Even Windrunner was ready for a rest. After unsaddling his horse, Harkin walked over to me and ran his hand over Windrunner's flank.
"You and he have pushed our horses to their limit, yet the two of you have fared the best of us. How?"
"I'm light and he's strong."
Harkin shook his head but didn't pursue the issue. He and the duke unrolled blankets and lay down. I put on my wool jacket and sat meditating. I had learned long ago meditating was as restful as sleeping.
Besides, I had much to consider. Graduate students of the Qi'temple were rented out to nobility and wealthy families. The contract could be for a specific period, with an option to renew, or open ended. Because of the nature of the service, either party could terminate it.
My current contract was open ended for unspecified services. A very unusual contract, but it felt consistent with my Qi—a Path to travel—with no concern for the past or the future. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the two men move.
Although it appeared Sandar and Harkin woke at the same moment, I sensed Harkin woke in response to Sandar's movement.
Sandar looked at me and frowned. "You should have slept when you had the chance. It's still a long ride to Xihu."
"I'm rested and ready to travel, Your Grace," I said as I rose. Harkin pulled a wrapped bundle of hard bread and cheese from his saddlebags. We had a quick meal and were on the road in minutes.
CHAPTER TWO
Xihu castle: Understanding the Qi, a testing of Nisha
As Sandar had wanted, we reached rolling hills of grassland from where the city of Xihu could be seen in the distance as the rising sun began to cast light shadows and the clouds were streaked with pale pink. I'd never visited Xihu. It would have been part of the traditional three-year Walk-around to complete my training.
My one-year Walk-around, earlier in my training, had been to Murel, a fishing town on the Sea of Araxie. I had thought it a large town at the time, with its streets lined with shops, hundreds of small boats in the harbor, thousands of homes, and people everywhere. It had been my first look into the outside world, and I had been happy to return to the serenity of the Qi'temple. Now, looking at the massive walls surrounding Xihu, which stretched for leagues, I realized how small Murel had been and wondered if I was ready for the chaos. I would soon find out.
Before long, we rode past fields of golden wheat, cattle, and clusters of log-and-mud cottages. As we neared, I could see the original fortification no longer supported the growing population, and a small city had grown outside the walls. The dirt streets were wide enough for a couple of wagons to pass the small shops, built of wood, and tents selling a variety of merchandise and services. Ramshackle houses lined the narrow side streets, and the people wore rough work clothes. Many stopped to watch as we rode by, and women with small children whispered to them while pointing to the duke. A few shouted and cheered as we passed.
Soon the massive walls of Xihu loomed above us. The guards halted the line of people at the main gate for us to pass. Inside, the streets were paved with stone, the shops permanent wood-and-stone structures, and the houses large, with neat lawns and brightly painted walls. The closer we came to the castle, the larger the houses, the stores had glass windows to display their goods, and the people's clothing was new and well made. Horns sounded and a massive portcullis lifted as we rode toward the castle wall. And as we passed through the gate, the soldiers on duty braced to attention and saluted.
Inside, a courtyard a hundred paces wide and two hundred long ran between two long buildings and ended at the castle, a four-story stone building. At the castle steps, a tall thin man in black stood waiting beside two maids.
"Good morning, Your Grace. I see you were successful in—" he stuttered to a stop as I dismounted and turned to face him. Before he could recover, Sandar intervened.
"Minister Mirza, this is qi'Nisha. We rode through the night, and I'm sure she would like to see her quarters, so she can rest."
Mirza recovered nicely and gave me a small bow before turning back to the duke. "Your Grace, I've had the guest room in your wing prepared for her in anticipation."
"That's a good room," Sandar said, handing his reins to a young red-haired boy, who already had Harkin's.
"Lady qi'Nisha, if you will follow me I'll show you to your room. Crina will take your bags," Mirza said, looking around.
"Thank you, Minister Mirza." I removed my traveling bag from behind the saddle and handed it to a young girl who stood nervously looking from me to Windrunner and back again. I'd have carried it myself but didn't want to upset their normal routine. "Please, just call me qi'Nisha. I'm not nobility. Besides, if you say ‘Lady', I won't know you're talking to me."
His wrinkled brow and slight frown confirmed I'd been right about my age being a potential problem, and I had further confused the issue by insisting I wasn't a "Lady."
Crina stood holding my traveling bag, desperately looking around for something else. Mirza recovered quickly.
"If you'll follow me...qi'Nisha."
We proceeded up the steps into a large foyer with a three-story ceiling and gold-veined marble floors. Straight ahead, two huge wooden doors stood open, exposing a reception hall that looked able to hold hundreds. To the left and right, marble stairs with blue and silver runners—Ferox Province's colors—led to separate wings of the building. A guard was stationed at the foot of each staircase. Mirza took the left one. At the third landing, he turned left and stopped at the second door, opened it, and allowed me to enter first.
A triple-size bed stood in the middle, plush, hand-woven, flowered rugs covered the floor, three padded chairs dotted the room, and two armoires rested against one of the walls. I stared, speechless. My room at the Qi'temple was about the size of the bed.
"I hope this is adequate, qi'Nisha," Mirza said, looking pleased.
"Actually, it isn't—" before I could finish the sentence, Sandar exploded.
"My god, you expect more? Maybe you want my chambers!" Although his face twisted in anger, his eyes were deeply shadowed with fatigue. Mirza stood with his mouth hanging open.
I shook my head. "Your Grace, I've no need for such luxury. Save this for an honored guest. I'd be content with a smaller, modest room."
"I apologize, qi'Nisha." He closed his eyes and rubbed them as if trying to stay awake. "You're going to take time to get used to. When we stopped to rest the horses and ourselves, you and Windrunner were barely weary. Now you stand here, after fourteen hours' ha
rd riding, looking no more tired than if you'd spent the day leisurely walking the grounds. And you feel the room we want to give you should be kept for honored guests, implying you're not." He paused with his eyes closed before continuing. "I'm exhausted and need a few hours' rest. Mirza will see to your needs. We will talk later." He nodded in my direction, turned, and walked away down the hallway.
Mirza shuffled his feet, looking unsure what to say.
"Minister Mirza, I've never been to a castle and don't understand the proprieties. I'm afraid I've skipped my three-year Walk-around, which would have included some time at this castle and a mentor to help me learn my way around. I won't be embarrassed if I do something wrong, but it would be disruptive. I'd like to avoid that for the duke's sake. I'd appreciate it if you would consider being my mentor."
"Qi'Nisha, you're the duke's Qi'advisor..."
"I'm also a young woman in need of instruction, and I believe you're the best qualified."
"If you wish." He paused, eyes turned down in thought. "To begin with, this room establishes your importance to the duke as his Qi'advisor. Anything else would cause talk about your competency and the duke's judgment. Pardon, but your youth will cause that anyway. This room will help to negate that. If you wish, there is a slightly smaller one in this hallway. But it's important that you stay in the duke's family wing."
"I'd prefer the smaller room, but I'll leave the decision to you. I trust your judgment."
"Thank you, I'll move you to the smaller room. Your modesty will benefit your image, seeing that everyone will know it was your choice. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"If it isn't against the rules, I'd like to visit the kitchen and get a little something before the next meal, and I'd like a tour of the castle." I noticed that Crina stood rigid, looking like she wanted to run but afraid to.
"If you wish food in between meals, you should have it brought to you. Crina or any servant will get it. The kitchen is for the staff. But if you wish, I'd be happy to give you a tour."
When I nodded, he continued. "I'll give you time to refresh yourself. When you're ready, pull the red cord by the bed, and I'll come for you. Leave any clothes you want cleaned on the bed or a chair or the floor," he smiled, "and Crina will see they get cleaned and make sure your chamber pot's kept fresh." Mirza gave a small bow and left.
Crina curtseyed at his back. She looked to be two or three years younger than me and clearly terrified.
"Crina, call me qi'Nisha, and don't be afraid to ask questions or to tell me anything you think I should know. I don't bite."
"Mistress...sorry...qi'Nisha, I'm your chambermaid. I'm here to keep your room and clothes clean and tidy, to help you wash and dress, and run errands for you."
"And to help me adjust. Normally, I'd keep my own room clean, but that wouldn't be right since that's your job," I said and waited until she nodded. "I'll clean and dress myself. I've only two outfits and they're exactly the same." I couldn't help but smile at the shocked look on her face. "But I'll need you to help me understand the women's dress customs, and we'll keep it a secret that I wash and dress myself."
Crina unpacked my traveling bag like the clothes in it were made of the finest material. She waited until I had undressed, then swept up my dirty clothes and ran off. I spent an hour in meditation before ringing for Mirza. He arrived only a few minutes later.
"Minister Mirza, I appreciate your willingness to mentor me. I want you to know that I value your advice, but sometimes, I'll ignore it—not that it won't be good advice, but because I'll feel I need to. Therefore, although it probably isn't a good idea, I'd like to visit the kitchen. That's the best way for me to learn the kind of food that's being served and what's available should I need something different."
"I understand. Let's go. I confess to being curious as to the effect of a Qi'advisor on the court. Rumors of your ride on Windrunner are already the talk of the castle." He gave a toothy grin.
On the way, he explained that the kitchen was located in the long building on the left of the main castle and was divided into two parts—one for the nobles' meals and the other for the staff and soldiers. On the ground floor, he strode into a curved corridor that led past two guards and into a long hallway, which stretched the length of the building and provided access to the various sections.
I could smell the aroma of fresh-baked bread and feel the heat as we approached the first door. When we entered, it seemed chaotic, with several tens of people in constant motion. An open archway separated the kitchen into two distinct areas. The one we entered was by far the smaller of the two. The larger one stretched to the back wall of the building.
Mirza looked around for a moment before heading for a tall, stout woman who was inspecting a white pastry that had just been pulled from the oven. The woman looked up and frowned. She didn't appear to like interruptions or people, other than her staff, wandering her domain. Her white cap hid her hair, emphasizing the roundness of her face.
"Well, Mirza, is someone so unhappy with my food that they sent you?" she said before her eyes settled on me. "Or do you have another cook for me to train in my spare time?"
"I can make a very tasty porridge with nuts and berries," I said, unable to resist injecting a little humor into what I knew must be a very stressful environment. Her expression relaxed as she surveyed me from head to toe.
"So you're the Qi'advisor everyone is talking about. You're very young, so you must be good." She studied my face like she would one of her cook's creations until Mirza broke the silence.
"Qi'Nisha, I'd like you to meet Mala." He looked a bit nervous, reinforcing that Mala ruled here.
"Would you like me to make porridge for you?" She smiled for the first time.
"I'd love to taste yours, but I didn't stop here to disrupt your day. I've never been to a castle and don't know anything about the food here. I'm sure it's far better than anything they cooked at the Qi'temple. If I know, I won't ask for anything that would cause you more work or interrupt your busy work schedule."
"And you mean it." She gave me a knowing, motherly look I had seen many times from qi'Deniz. I nodded. She spent the next half hour between critiquing cooks, discussing the menu and letting me sample various dishes.
"Mistress Mala, your food is delicious but much richer than I'm used to. I think they kept it intentionally bland so we'd leave early." That got laughs from several of the people within hearing range. "And I'm stuffed. I won't be ready to eat again for several days. Do you have any cheeses?"
"Several." She led me to a side room and let me sample each one. Not surprisingly, I hadn't tasted most of them before.
"I'm use to meals of cheese, bread, and water. Perhaps a snack like that when I'm not required to attend formal meals and maybe a side dish at dinner, if it wouldn't be too much trouble. It will take time for me to get used to the rich foods."
Although I was serious, Mala laughed, which got heads turning. She obviously didn't laugh often, if at all.
"Come, I'll take you back to the soldier's cook. You may want to take meals with them when you can. I won't be offended. I too was raised on common fare."
We found Vesna, a thin older woman, showing a young girl how to roll out dough for some small pastry. She looked harassed but took the time to escort me around her domain. The food proved more basic with fewer spices and the desserts less sweet.
Afterward, we toured the working facilities and sleeping areas. It took hundreds of people to keep the castle functioning: in addition to food, the residents needed clothing, furniture, utensils, weapons, and so forth, and those needed to be maintained and repaired.
"Mirza, would you mind if we visit the soldiers' building?"
He smiled. "You're young and have endless energy. I'm getting old and can't keep up, although I'm enjoying giving you the tour. With your permission, I'll turn you over to Sir Harkin." Mirza found a young boy and sent him ahead to find Harkin. By the time we had crossed the courtyard, Harkin stood waiting at
the entrance.
"Good day, qi'Nisha. I hope you've had a good rest."
"Rest? She has been touring the castle for the past several hours. I'm the one who needs a rest, so I'm enlisting your help to continue the tour. She would like to visit your area."
"I'd be delighted." Harkin waved toward an arch in the building, which led through to an open area.
"Thank you Minister Mirza, I appreciate you taking time to show me around. It's been most enjoyable." I gave him a small bow before following Harkin. He led me through the archway and turned left into a barn, where a tall, thin man stood stooped, inspecting the hoof of a warhorse.
"Qi'Nisha, Master Aandart's our stable master and horse trainer. There's none better in all of Rhybac."
"Pleased to meet you, qi'Nisha," he said, releasing the horse's leg to bow.
"My pleasure, Master Aandart."
"Harkin's only saying that because he wants something from me." His angular face had a knowing grin. "In this area, we stable the warhorses greater than sixteen hands, used by the cavalry."
The stables opened onto a large, oval ring, where two mounted men hacked at each other with short, wooden swords, while a tall sergeant stood shouting at them.
"Malkin, you damn fool. You almost sliced the neck of your horse with that last wild-ass swing. You know, the one you're sitting on! Siman, how do you expect to kill your opponent if you can't control your horse? Your horses have more to fear from you two than the enemy..." his voice faded as Aandart steered us around the arena and into a smaller stable.
"Here we stable the nobility palfreys, their riding horses, and senior officers' horses. This one," he stopped and pointed to one of the stalls, "belongs to you."
I stopped, trying to decipher his remark. He'd clearly directed his comment to me, so the "you" was me, but I didn't own a horse. Just then, Windrunner stuck his head over the iron gate leading into the stall. I put my hand on his head, and he lowered it until it was level with my face. I placed my head against his and stroked his neck.
