《The Sable of Skapina》 Book 1 - Family
There was a new Masteritsa in their small town. She came rumbling in on her fine carriage, pulled by several strong horses and guarded by several Rytsars with silver wolves embroidered on their cloaks, their swords sheathed by their side and their spears at the ready. They promptly dismounted when the carriage came to a halt, the tallest one of them, wearing a furred hat and an impressive beard, opened the carriage door. Nikolas craned his head further to look at who would emerge. The carriage wasn''t decorated, so she couldn''t have been from Prebovna, anyone from Prebovna would ride in gold-and-silver carriages, regardless of the cost and feasibility. Perhaps he could tell by her clothes... "Oi! Watch it!" he snapped, as Felie roughly pushed him aside to take her rightful turn, barely balanced with Ada held aloft in her arms. "Where''s she from?" Felie said, her face pressed to the window.She stood on tiptoes, using her hands as leverage to pull herself up. Nikolas winced from where she''d shoved him out of her way, "I dunno, what''s she wearing?" "Furs!" squealed Ada, clapping her hands, "Furs and lots of them! Do you think it''s from¡ª," she turned to Nikolas, her brown eyes very wide, "a bear?" Felie scoffed, letting Ala back on to the ground with a thud and rubbing her arms, "You think everything''s from a bear! What kind of bear is white anyway?" "Let me look and I''ll tell you!" Nikolas said, pushing Felie roughly out of the way to have a look for himself. The Maseritsa was wearing furs, though not as much as Ada had proclaimed. They were decorative, Nikolas thought, looking at the white trim on her gown. If she was wearing furs, she must''ve taken them off, no one would wear furs down here, not in the summer. "She''s got a boy with her!" Ada proclaimed, pulling a stool over and somehow managing to climb over Nikolas''s shoulders, and stabbing him with her pointy elbows, "a boy!" "Get off me!" Nikolas yelped, trying to push her off. He barely caught a glimpse of the boy himself before he fell to the ground with a thud, Ada landing on top of him. "Do you think you can talk to him while papa''s busy talking to the Masteritsa?" said Felie, a hint of pleading in her voice. "Do you think you can ask him if it''s really a bear his mama''s wearing?" "I thought Ada was the one who liked bears," Nikolas said, raising an eyebrow. Felie stuck out her tongue, and tapped Ada on the shoulder, "Come on, Ada, let''s go get some pastries off Cook!" Nikolas watched his two sisters run off, privately jealous, before hesitantly making his way to his Father''s study. Aldeim rarely had patience for Nikolas, and definitely not if he was trying to do business. As he expected, Aldeim didn''t even acknowledge his entry, his eyes were on the Masteritsa seated primly next to him, and his mouth was busy smiling and negotiating. Nikolas paused at the door, uncertain. He shifted from one foot to the other, biting his lip. "Are you going to just stand there?" He nearly jumped, before spinning around and looking into the very amused blue eyes of the boy he''d barely caught a glimpse of in the window. "You know, grown-ups take hours and hours when they talk about¡ª" here he gave a laugh, and lowered his voice, "grown-up things." Then he straightened, and probably with the manners of any Masteritsa''s son, said primly, "I''m Jozin." "Nikolas," said Nikolas. He''d thought that Jozin, being the Masteritsa''s son, would wear the clothes to match. But no, he wore quite simple clothing, a long tunic and calf high leather boots. Though Nikolas suspected that the clothes likely had some sort of witch-magic woven in them. Everyone who traveled would think to ask a witch to do so, everyone who could afford it that is. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Pleased to meet you," said Jozin. His eyes flickered to the door, and he motioned for Nikolas to come towards him, "Why don''t you show me around?" "I¡­ Well," Nikolas stared at the study then at Jozin and the prospect of not having to wait for his father to finish. "Why not?" He would normally close the door himself, as silently as possible, but before he could reach for it, the door closed itself with the softest of clicks. "Come then," said Jozin, taking Nikolas''s hand, "I want to see what''s so great about Icfeld!" When they were outside he glanced up, hand shading his eyes from the sun before turning and giving Nikolas a mischievous look, "Have you ever gone up the roofs?"
Nikolas had half-hoped that the Maseritsa''s Rytsars would have seen them, he wasn''t a fan of heights or breaking rules. But sneaking past her Rytsars and his father''s guards wasn''t a hard task as the Rytsars were busy unpacking or resting while his father''s guards only cared if you stole from Aldeim. It was noon, and the town was bustling with activity, the merchant-women were rushing about with their carts, calling out their wares and the local smith was busy with his commissions. It was summer, and from Nikolas had gathered from Aldeim''s infrequent cheer, they would have a good harvest. Enough to send one of the children to the academy, he''d said, looking over their family speculatively at dinner. Nikolas had lowered his gaze, knowing that it was definitely not him that his father would spend coin on. "Is your house the tallest one here?" said Jozin, pointing up at the roof and gesturing at all the other houses below. They were next to the chimney and Jozin was eyeing the bricks with the same speculative look as Ada did before taking a cookie for herself. Nikolas decided it was best to distract him from whatever plan Jozin was brewing. "Yes," Nickolas nodded proudly, "my mother''s the Dvoryanka, she fought with the last Empress in her war against the Stislarians." He waved his hand, as his mother did when she casted her minor magics, "She was very good! She knew how to make the wind move just so!" "Was?" said Jozin, raising an eyebrow. "Well," said Nikolas, "She said, casting magic has uh¡ª" he scratched his head, frowning. ¡°It has an effect on the body, I know,¡± Jozin nodded, ¡°my mother told me herself.¡± He looked Nikolas up and down, then shook his head, ¡°Never mind, do you think you could boost me up?¡± Nikolas eyed the chimney, and Jozin''s height. He laughed, "How? Even together we can''t reach!" "If you jump, it''ll work!" Jozin nodded his head, all confidence, and motioned for Nikolas to kneel so he could get on his shoulders. "My father won''t be happy if you hurt yourself," Nikolas warned. Jozin was slightly shorter than he was, and lighter than Ada, for some odd reason. Or perhaps he just knew not to put his weight all in one place. That was important when loading carts, Aldeim had told Nikolas, never put your valuables in one wagon or overload it. "Jump, on the count of three," Jozin declared, sounding all too cheerful. "What?" "One, two ¡ªthree!" Nikolas only caught on at three, and he gave a half-hearted jump, expecting they''d plummet down. But they didn''t, Jozin''s hands caught onto the roof tiles and he clambered up, turning quickly to offer Nikolas a hand. Nikolas was open mouthed, staring at the ground and then at Jozin. "You were really good at jumping," Jozin nodded, eyes bright. "Like those horses, my mother said the Empress has horses that can fly." "They only fly because of magic," Nikolas scoffed. "Once the magic''s gone they''re just regular horses. And I''m not a horse!" "Oh, what are you then?" "I dunno¡­ I''m going to be a merchant, not a Rytsar!" "My mother says never to say you''re not going to be something," Jozin was now making his way across the roofs, arms held aloft to keep his balance. "She says it invites the Fates to do things." "Well, I''m not going to be a Rytsar," Nikolas declared, following cautiously behind, "I don''t even like riding." "Maybe not horses?" Jozin suggested. "Horses are boring, but my mother''s Rystars had to ride them ''cause if they came riding on our mounts no one''ll let us in Icfeld." Bears, Nikolas cautiously guessed, unable to contain his curiosity, "Do they ride on bears?" "Bears?" Jozin shook his head, bewildered, "No one can ride a bear! Well¡­ maybe the witches, but that''s different¡­ No, I mean, wolves! They''re as big as your horses!" "I don''t believe you!" "Come to Skapina and see," Jozin said firmly, "They''re big! My mother has one, Vierka, she wanted to come but my mother told her no." "Do you have one?" "No," Jozin shook his head, sitting back down on the roof with a sigh, "They''re very stubborn, wolves. They have to like you, and not the other way ''round." "So are horses." Jozin giggled, "Horses won''t last long in Skapina, they''re stupid and they''ll get lost." Nikolas stared at the ground below him, frowning, "Are you¡ª did you use magic? There''s no way I could jump that high!" Then he crossed his arms, "But you can''t use magic, you''re too young for the academy! Unless ¡ª is your mother taking you to one?" "Oh no, I''m not going to any academy," Jozin shook his head. "My mother said they''re a waste of time and money and all you come out with is ah, what did she say, oh yes, inflated sense of self." "What does that mean?" "I don''t know," Jozin shrugged. "No one in Skapina''s ever been to one and we''re all doing fine." "No one? Really? You''re joking!" Men had to go to the academy, Nikolas knew. "So what of the men? They can''t be witches!" "They can too!" "Hmph," Nikolas crossed his arms, sitting next to Jozin. "Skapina is strange." Then he decided to ask Felie''s question anyway, "Do they have white bears there?" To his surprise Jozin giggled, "They say the white bears you see are Baba Zbena''s and they''ll eat you if you don''t give them something that they can bring back to her!" "You''re lying!" Jozin only laughed harder, hugging the chimney to keep from falling off. When they snuck down later, taking advantage of a ladder Nikolas swore wasn''t there before, it occurred to Nikolas that Jozin never did answer the question about Nikolas''s sudden jumping abilities. Book 1 - Chapter 2 His father was very pleased with whatever the Masteritsa said. So much so that he didn''t scowl and glare when Nikolas fumbled the numbers and struggled over his letters, but he did glance up from his books when Nikolas recited the wrong passage. Nikolas glanced up from his book nervously, wishing he could just toss the book into the merrily crackling flames of the fireplace. It was the only warm thing in his father''s study, the man was of the belief that the cold helps with thinking. "Shouldn''t you know that one?" his father said, irate, "your mother was in the war with the Lasovians. They surrendered after sixty two days, not sixty one." "Sorry," Nikolas apologized, reflexively, and stared at the swirling letters on the page. He didn''t bother to decipher what precisely was on there. He''d learned that the best thing to do was to listen in to Brytha''s lessons and memorize what she''d read outloud to their father instead of mumbling his own way through it and getting cuffed for his own trouble. Brytha was the clever one in the family, not him, the one that knew all the letters and words and nice things to say. No doubt his eldest sister was curtseying and smiling to the Masteritsa in the tea room downstairs right now. "Where were you, anyway?" his father queried, eyebrows set in an angry frown, "You weren''t messing about with Felie and Ada were you? You know you are supposed to set an example for them, not lead them astray." "I was¡­" Nikolas began, staring at the plush carpets and tapping the wood of the chair he sat on. He decided he should at least say a half-truth, "I was with the Masteritsa''s son." "Son?" his father frowned harder, leaning forward, "She didn''t say anything about a son!" "Jozin!" Nikolas insisted, sitting upright, and meeting his father''s stormy eyes, "he said his name was Jozin. And he came with her as well, and we were¡ª" "Ah," his father sat back down, crossing his legs, "probably the best to travel with a son. You never know what the witches would demand if you travel with a daughter." That was wrong, and Nikolas spoke up before he could stop himself, "But the witches haven''t been seen since the Tsaritsa drove them out!" He immediately clapped a hand onto his mouth, face red. It was not in one of Brytha''s lessons, but a hushed conversation between his mother and father. To his surprise his father chuckled, "If you want to listen at doors, Nikolas, you should know when to speak what you know and when you shouldn''t." He sighed deeply, "The Tsaritsa wishes to employ the use of academies for girls now and the witches aren''t happy about it." "Mother studied in an academy." "An Imperial Academy taught by witches," his father nodded, "but the witches aren''t fond of it anymore. So they''ve raised a stink over the whole thing and they''re now taken to searching for potential talent on the road." His right hand tapped the ring on his left, "Hm. In that case, keep your friendship with the Masteritsa''s daughter. Call her whatever she likes. It is always good to¡ª" here he paused and glanced meaningfully at Nikolas. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! "Foster connections and potential trade partners," Nikolas recited dutifully. "Well, at least no one will fault you for having a bad memory," his father said, and waving a hand dismissively, "go, Nikolas, and tell Felie and Ada to stop harassing the cooks." Nikolas let out a breath, and hastily made his escape from the study, but not before he bowed respectfully at the door. The last thing he needed was a reprimand of why one should respect one''s elders. As expected, when he descended the staircase he heard the sounds of Brytha chatting happily away with the Masteritsa. "Your father spoke very highly of you, Brytha." The Masteritsa had a soft, lilting voice, and Nikolas half-expected her to break into song, the kind of songs that could change the weather. "Thank you, Masteritsa! But I''m only good with numbers and things, not magic! I think that''s more Diasa, and maybe Felie, but she''s too young for us to tell." "Everyone can do some magic," said the Masteritsa. "You just have a touch of it for numbers, Brytha." "Oh," here Nikolas imagined Brytha was flushing and holding a hand to her mouth, "oh, I wouldn''t say that is magic. It is just doing numbers! What about you Jozina? What are you good at?" "Uh," a pause, scuffling, and Jozin, no Jozina spoke up, "I''m good at the bow, I guess. I can play a little." "Oh, play for us!" "I¡­ don''t want to. Sorry. I don''t¡­" "Not to worry! I apologize! I was only suggesting! You know I can''t play much as well! I think my sister Viola plays more than I do!" "You have many siblings." "Yes!" "I like Nikolas," said Jozina, "I met him a while ago. Is he still in the study with the Gosudar Aldeim?" "I''ll fetch him for you!" there was a scraping of the chair as Brytha hurriedly stood up. "Please excuse me, Masteritsa, Jozina." Nikolas barely had the time to pretend to descend the stairs before the door flew open and Brytha hurriedly stepped out, her braids bouncing. She stopped at the foot of the stairs, hands on her hips, "Were you eavesdropping?" she hissed. "I was?" "Hmph!" she sniffed. "It doesn''t matter. Go play nice with Jozina. She likes you, and maybe if her mother likes you enough then you can marry her and be off in Skapina. I''m sure you''ll love the bears or whatever they''ve got running around there." "Shouldn''t Richan be the first to get married?" "Richan isn''t getting married to a Masteritsa in distant lands, Nikolas, he''s supposed to be getting married to whichever lady wants his hand in the palace!" Nikolas decided not to take the bait, and made to open the door and enter the tea room before she could. It was more richly decorated than the last time he''d stepped foot in it, his father must have asked one of the maids to air the room and scent it with flower water. The Masteritsa and her daughter were seated on plush chairs next to the fire, and she was sipping from an ivory tea cup. He bowed to the Masteritsa, who gave him a nod and motioned for him to take a seat next to Jozina. The latter gave him a forced smile, the kind that said Jozina didn''t want to be there. Nikolas waited until Brytha started another conversation with the Masteritsa before turning and whispering to Jozina. "I thought you told me your name was Jozin." "It is!" Jozin insisted, "it is just," he dangled his legs on the chair, " easier for my mother to say I''m a girl!" It was one of those times that Nikolas wished he had Guigo''s wits. Guigo was like his twin Diasa and just had a knack of understanding people and magic and how to make sense of all of it. "... why?" he said, completely baffled. "You''re not playing stupid?" "No?" Jozin narrowed his eyes, and Nikolas felt like a breeze was swirling around the room even though the windows were closed. "I suppose you''re not. I''ll explain later. It''s¡­ it must be a Skapina thing." "Like white bears?" "... like white bears," Jozin agreed, and gave Nikolas a genuine smile. Book 1 - Chapter 3 In theory, Nikolas was supposed to share his room with Richan and Guigo, but Richan was away attending a preparatory school, to prepare him for whatever his future wife would want in a husband, and Guigo was never seen without Diasa. The twins had a knack of finding the most remote nook and cranny in the house and even their mother had given up on ordering them to stay in their beds. His other sisters all bundled together in their own rooms, Viola with Sanna and Lianne, Felie with Ada in their nursery. He could hear them giggling well into the night, only stopped by their housekeeper when the man bothered to get out of bed. Brytha, of course, was the only one with a proper room to herself, for she was the woman of the house, and would take over the family business. So Nikolas was left to the silence of his own thoughts most nights. Except¡­ he sat up, frowning when a soft knock came on the door. It wasn''t Guigo, Guigo never knocked on principle, he would barge in, probably to brag about what he and Diasa had gotten themselves into. It was too late in the evening for his father to knock, and his mother hadn''t returned from her trip to the palace to report to the Tsaritsa. In any case, she wouldn''t disturb him so late in the night. Nikolas got out of bed, tip-toeing towards the door. "Who is it?" he said, cautiously. "Jozin," said Jozin and Nikolas nearly jumped out of his skin, for it sounded like Jozin was standing right next to him even though he was on the other side of the door. "May I come in?" "There''s nothing much," Nikolas said, even as he opened the door and gestured for Jozin to come in. Jozin didn''t come alone. There was a Rytsar with him, a tall broad shouldered man with a graying beard and hair, though his hair was hidden in the furred cap they all wear. "It''s Valdi," said Jozin, proudly, gesturing towards the man, "Valdi said it wasn''t nice just sneaking around by myself." Valdi looked unimpressed, Nikolas observed, "Would you like to come in as well?" he asked, more out of politeness than anything. "It''s warmer inside." It was true, all the bedrooms had fireplaces, or, in the case of his parents'' room, a witch-made iron stove that always kept their room warm. The older man glanced at Jozin, who shrugged, "You said you didn''t care to hear children talking." "It is not my duty to know." "Ah," Jozin turned to Nikolas, rolling his eyes. "Valdi is so funny. But you''ll complain tomorrow when your bones ache or something. Come in so you can listen to us talk." Jozin talked about Valdi in very familial tones, Nikolas thought, wondering if they were related. Sometimes it was the case in the far off places of Icfeld, and it was a way to maintain loyalty, his father had explained to Brytha. Nikolas could only guess that she had nodded very solemnly and stored the information away in the vast cavern that was her head. "Do you want to¡­ sit on my bed?" Nikolas suggested, "I don''t know anywhere else¡­" He didn''t have any chairs in the bedroom. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Jozin glanced around curiously, "Is it strange sharing a room with others? Well, when they''re here at least?" "Not really." "Hm," Jozin sat on the bed, no, bounced onto it. "It is strange for me. Your family is so big!" "Not any bigger than any other!" "In Skapina this is considered very big," Jozin nodded. "They don''t have more than two or three, right, Valdi?" The older man nodded, and looked as if he very much wanted to sleep in Guigo''s bed instead of standing watch. "My brother''s not sleeping in here tonight," Nikolas offered, seeing Jozin''s speculative look. "Did your mother make this?" Jozin said curiously, running his hand on the quilt covering Nikolas''s bed. "No." "Hm. Well, my mother doesn''t do quilting either, that''s not her specialty. I think my grandmother made mine, but she''s not related to me you know, we all call the older women grandmother¡ª" as he spoke Jozin casted discreet looks at Valdi, whose eyelids began to flutter. "There are so many of them! I only told you about the one with the white bears but there''s one who has a house on animal legs, well, it was a fox''s the last time I saw her, but she told me she wanted to try a rooster''s legs because roosters wake up earlier than foxes and she always liked¡ª" He continued in such a manner until they heard a snore from Valdi, to which he gave a relieved sigh. "I thought he would never go away." "He wanted to come with you didn''t he?" "Yes!" Jozin threw up his hands in exasperation. "I told him we''re in the same house, a big house, but it''s not like a palace where he can''t find me. And it''s not like I am going off into the town by myself, it''s not like there are wizards here anyway." Well, that was very different to what his father told him, but perhaps the Masteritsa called magic users wizards, who was Nikolas to say which fancy words the grown-ups chose to call things? "What did you want to tell me?" "Ah," Jozin frowned, he rocked back and forth on his bed before whispering. "I am a boy, you know, I am always a boy. Even if the grandmothers say that I am sort of a girl. My mother says they say that because they think girls do their kind of magic better." Seeing Nikolas''s confused look he said, "It''s something in Skapina. Dragon magic, you know? No? Well, dragons aren''t male or female, they''re sort of both, and the grandmothers said that dragons were in Skapina long before they were, so their magic just," he waved his hand around, "bleeds everywhere, and it makes people like me." "Magic makes people?" "Dragon magic is funny," Jozin said solemnly. "So they told me I''m like, something in the middle, not like a boy or a girl, but I told them they''re wrong and I''m a boy. My mother lets me choose but she said it''s easier to just say I''m a girl in Icfeld." "Skapina is very confusing," Nikolas concluded. Then he decided he might as well enlighten himself, "What is witch magic? My mother does some magic as well but she doesn''t tell me." "Well, first of all, everyone can do magic," Jozin said, sounding very much like the Masteritsa. "Wizards just do it differently from witches. Like¡­" he glanced around and his eyes settled on Guigo''s unfinished breakfast from the morning. "Like cooking, you see? When a wizard does something, they''ll go around and around following a book. They''ll," here Jozin squinted his eyes and pretended to scratch a non-existent beard, "follow everything to the letter. The temperature, the ingredients, how long they have to cook it. But a witch would just do it. She just knows the recipe." "That sounds good," Nikolas agreed. "It does, doesn''t it?" Jozin frowned, crossing his arms, "But I don''t like saying that because then they all insisted I must be a witch." "Can''t you not be both?" said Nikolas. Jozin narrowed his eyes, "You''re not joking?" "No?" "Hm. They all hated wizards, the grandmothers. They all said it was¡ª" here Jozin made his voice high and snappish, "balderdash and wishy-washy!" Then he grinned at Nikolas, "I like your idea, that didn''t occur to my mother, and she''s very clever about things. But it makes sense, she doesn''t like wizards either." Book 1 - Chapter 4
"She doesn''t like wizards huh?" said Nikolas. Then, struggling to find something to say that was remotely intelligent he settled on, "So she is not sending you to any academy?" "No!" Jozin looked insulted by the suggestion, "Why would she? What could they teach me that she and the others can''t?" "It must be nice then," Nikolas agreed, "to go with your mother. I never went, my father always took Brytha." He looked away, blinking back his frustration. "Well, your sister can''t be good at everything!" Jozin said, moving to sit closer to Nikolas and squeezing his shoulder. "You''ll find something you can do and I''m sure your parents would be proud of you." Nikolas gave a soft laugh, "I have a lot of siblings and they are all good at everything." "I don''t have siblings," Jozin said quietly, "all I really know is," he glanced at Valdi, softly snoring on the bed next to them, "well, magic, I guess. Witch magic, and the first thing my mother taught me is that you can''t do everything." He let out a breath, "The grandmothers, they all thought I was special, and that I could do so many things and they were all fighting to see who could teach me the most and well, there was an incident ." "Incident?" Nikolas raised an eyebrow. Jozin gave him a wry look, "What do you do all the time here in Icfeld? Riding horses maybe? It''s like one day I woke up and I couldn''t saddle my horse. I couldn''t even get up on her. Couldn''t even bring myself to whistle. My mother said I need to take time away from Skapina so here we are." He gave Nikolas a grin, "So where is your mother? What kind of magic does she do?" "I don''t know," Nikolas admitted. "She doesn''t like to talk about what she did." Or where she went to, Nikolas knew very well that his mother could simply say she was visiting the Tsaritsa but the muddy state of her cloak and boots spoke otherwise. The gardens of the palace were simply pristine, it was impossible to get even a speck of mud there. "Do you want to do magic as well?" "Me? No! I mean, I don''t think I can and well," magic required reading, and academy training and Nikolas knew very well he wasn''t academy material. "You know¡ª" "Not everyone can do magic," Nikolas snapped, then said, quickly, "sorry, I didn''t mean to¡­" Jozin tilted his head to one side, bit his lip and then said, "My mother was right. I really did need a break from Skapina." Then he smiled widely, "Did you notice? I helped us climbed up the roof." Nikolas had a strong suspicion that Jozin could do a whole lot more than give a lift, "How did you do it without throwing me too far?" He wasn''t a complete fool, "Is it like cooking then, you have a taste for whatever it is you do?" "Exactly!" Jozin nodded excitedly, "Exactly like that." So he wasn''t too stupid about things, Nikolas smiled, impressed he was able to make such a connection without his father''s corrections and stern frown. "Can you show me what Skapina''s like?" He thought of the canvases that lined the palace walls, all depicting scenes from Icfeld, the Queens and their Consorts and children. Jozin frowned, "I have never done something like that before." Then he brightened, his cheeks flushed, "But I want to try. Can I?" He held out his hands to Nikolas who took it, wondering what exactly Jozin intended to do. He felt a shiver run down his spine, even as he knew they were in a warm room, and felt the wind blowing past his ear. In front of him stood a stone castle on top of a mountain, its towers capped with snow, and as he rose higher and higher, as if carried up on wings he could sense that there was something off-kilter about the whole thing. Like how the stones that made up the walls were too oval, too even, like scales, and how the roar of the wind sounded oddly alive. "Something magical?" he thought aloud, and he heard Jozin''s answering laugh. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. He opened his eyes, and grinning, "That was wonderful. Did you just do that?" "I think so!" "You are even better than the painters in the palaces." "Really?" then a smile, "Thank you!" --- The next morning he was woken up by angry knocks on his door and before Nikolas could fully shake the sleep from his body, Brytha came striding in. She pulled the blankets away with deft hands.
"The Masteritsa wants to see you!" She was smiling too widely for Nikolas''s comfort, and she pulled him out of bed, chattering all the while. "She must really like you! And that''s good, did you know the Masteritsa is really really well connected?" Brytha lowered her voice, "She knows everyone! And if you marry Jozina, we''ll know everyone too!" When he didn''t respond Brytha reached out to tug at the necklace he wore since birth, a present from his mother to all her children. Nikolas choked and slapped her face. She responded by throwing his clothes at his head. Nikolas narrowed his eyes, struggling to pull the long woolen tunic over his head. Brytha was a fledgling schemer at best but she had to stop hitching her horses to her wagons before they were properly loaded. He wondered if he ought to enlighten Brytha of what Jozin told him but decided against it. It was nice knowing something Brytha didn''t. "What makes you think Jozina likes me?" "You''re not the only one that listens to people! I heard their guard Valden¡ª" "Valdi," Nikolas corrected. Brytha shrugged and continued, "Valdi, then, he said it to one of the stable boys that came with them. Well, he didn''t say Jozina liked you, he just told the boy off for wanting to play with her, and said that it was a privilege, not a right, to accompany the Masteritsa." Brytha crossed her arms, and pouted, "He was a rude boy that one, Suro or whatever his name is, nearly ran into me and didn''t even apologize!" Then she threw up her arms and gestured towards Nikolas''s clothes, "Well, get on with it, we don''t want to keep the Masteritsa waiting!" Blessed Mother help her children, thought Nikolas, irritatedly, Brytha didn''t even run her own household yet and she was already planning on who was marrying who. She probably already had a man she wanted to marry, no doubt narrowing down all the candidates on a precise scale. "Father isn''t joining us?" "No," Brytha looked very solemn, her eyes wide, "You must be on your best behavior! The Masteritsa wants to have breakfast with only you!" Brytha accompanied him to the guestrooms and curtseyed to the Masteritsa. As the older woman motioned for Nikolas to come sit next to her, and her back was momentarily turned as she took a chair for Nikolas to sit, Brytha made a motion with her hands. It clearly meant behave and Nikolas rolled his eyes, waving his sister away. He waited until there was a click at the door and footsteps receding before sitting down on the plush chair next to the Masteritsa. Up close she was less intimidating than when he had first seen her. Perhaps it was because she had discarded all her finery, and no doubt her furs had given her a more intimidating stature. She looked very much like Jozin, Nikolas thought, down to the way she held herself and the delicate features of her face. The Masteritsa''s breakfast was simple, he noticed, some bread, eggs, and a jar of preserved fruit. The tea was different though, her cup had some sort of purple tint to it, and he shook his head politely when she offered to pour him a cup. "You are not going to any academy, Jozin mentioned." "No, Masteritsa." "Lady Mira," said the Masteritsa, "you can call me Lady Mira, if you like." "Mira," said Nikolas experimentally, "like¡­ the flower?" Plants were one of the few things illustrated in his father''s books, and it was a boon that there were so many books on them in his father''s study. Lady Mira and Jozin had the same smile, Nikolas noted, but the corners of her eyes had more wrinkles to them. "Precisely," she took a sip from her cup, "what do you think of Jozin?" He could imagine the rage that would no doubt be thrown at him if he failed this particular question. From his experience, it was best to redirect the question, "My mother doesn''t do the same magic as he does, well, she doesn''t do it at all when I''m around," said Nikolas. "So maybe she does the same magic, I don''t know." "Did you like the magic?" "It was different," said Nikolas. Which was true, there were runes that kept the house warm and magic words to say to keep the food from spoiling but he had never experienced a vision before. But it wasn''t a vision, because visions were what soothsayers send to you and everyone knew they like to exaggerate for theatrics. "Are you interested in doing magic yourself?" There was something so warm and earnest in her gaze that Nikolas opened his mouth to answer before he could stop himself. "No, well¡­ I don''t know. I¡­ Brytha said that Diasa and Felie were the ones with magic and not me and well, I don''t think I should¡­" He trailed off, staring at the carpet. "I find that the cold air always clears my head," said the Masteritsa, motioning for Nikolas to stand up and follow her to the window. She placed her teacup on the windowsill and motioned to the courtyard below where Nikolas could see Jozin sparring with the stableboy. The rude boy that Brytha mentioned, and seeing the delighted whoops and shouts of the two, Nikolas had to agree. The Masteritsa chuckled, "Jozin does have that effect on people hm? They always seem to want his time." Nikolas blinked. Her face gave nothing away and he stammered out, desperately hoping he was saying the right things, "I don''t, I mean, well, I would like his company but I don''t want his time if he doesn''t want to¡ª" "Please," she shook her head, "there is no need to explain yourself, Nikolas, your intentions are quite honest." She nodded, as if it all made sense to her, and raised her teacup to her lips. Then she held out the cup to him and motioned for Nikolas to look at the dregs. "Don''t worry," she chuckled, "I am not doing any soothsaying. I just thought it was an interesting pattern." The pattern could very well be anything, thought Nikolas, but it looked like a table to the Masteritsa, for she continued, using a finger to trace what she was seeing, "One of the things I was taught, Nikolas, was to visualize a person''s mind like a table. A steady mind has four points of focus," here she pointed towards the table''s legs, "family, community, trade and friendship," she gave a half-smile. "You can, of course, have only three, or, in the very rare cases, balance with only two." "Begging your pardon, Masteritsa, but I don''t understand what you mean," it felt like listening into Brytha''s classes with his father again, but this time he had no idea what he ought to commit to memorizing. "Do you feel very unbalanced Nikolas?" As she said it, Nikolas felt an odd clenching in his gut, like the time he stared down into a large ravine. "No," he shook his head stubbornly. "It is not everyday someone melds so well with Jozin," the Masteritsa glanced at the window again. "Someone who asked him what he wanted," she smiled at him again, warm like the fire crackling behind her. "If you ever find yourself¡­ feeling off-kilter Nikolas, you are always welcomed to find your feet again in Skapina." She reached out to brush his hair away from his face, gently cupping his chin, "remember that." Her hand brushed against Nikolas''s necklace, and he thought he felt a vibration in the metal, like a beating heart, before the sensation vanished entirely. Book 1 - Chapter 5 Lady Mira stayed at their house for much longer than expected. His father did not mind, the Masteritsa paid well, and she somehow managed to get Ada and Felie in some form of order, and that had to be magic. She was so easy to adore, though, she seemed to know just what to say, and what people wanted without asking. Like how she just knew Ada was frustrated that her dress was pinned too tight, and was kicking a fuss because of it. Ordinarily everyone would dismiss it as another childish fit, but the Masteritsa had gotten down to her knees and quickly redid the fastenings. Jozin was just so¡­ lucky to have her as a mother, thought Nikolas, the Masteritsa always allowed him to accompany her. She didn''t force him to either, the Masteritsa could also be found with her men in the morning, though she didn''t spar like they did. In fact, no matter how hard he tried, Nikolas could never get up early enough to catch a glimpse of her training, though when he was able to wake up and hurry to the window, he could catch her standing in a half circle with her men, talking and laughing. There was a friendly camaraderie between the Masteritsa and her men, maybe this was how his mother treated her men when she went on her campaigns. His mother was stern and distant at home, and no one would dare to simply offer her a sip of wine from their wineskin or cup. But Valdi did, and Nikolas observed from his perch on the open corridor window, the old man had held out his to the Masteritsa and she''d taken it, raising an eyebrow when she finished downing its contents. "Your wine ages wonderfully," the Masteritsa had said in the Skapinian tongue, coughing delicately and covering her mouth with her hand. "She is lying," Jozin had whispered to Nikolas "Valdi''s wine tastes like vinegar, he''d always aged them wrong. You''re not supposed to bounce the wine barrels on the road." "How do you speak Skapinian?" Nikolas had inquired, "It sounds like¡­" like what dragons would sound, if one were to meet them, was Nikolas''s guess. "Go read about it then," Surio had interrupted, taking Jozin''s hand and pulling him away. Nikolas had scowled as Surio smirked. He had no idea how the boy knew he struggled with words, but seeing as he was a stableboy, and invisible to most people, perhaps he just saw the times Nikolas had labored over a page and drew the conclusions he did. He wouldn''t have been the first. Stolen novel; please report. Jozin had given him an apologetic look, "You''re not very interested in swords are you, Nikolas? It would be very boring for you." before he was ushered away by what Nikolas could only guess was a jealous Surio. And Surio was jealous, Nikolas could recognize that look anywhere. It was the same look of irritation Diasa gave when Guigo was playing towers with Nikolas, the same look they all gave to each other when one of them caught their mother''s eye. It was usually Felie, she clearly was the favorite, like how Brytha was their father''s favorite. At least his siblings were all matched up in one way or the other, while Nikolas was left quietly watching on. But that didn''t matter, because he was very good at listening and watching and there were many things you can learn from observing people. For one, Surio wasn''t as good a swordsman as the boy boasted. Surio was like that mongoose creature from the books in his father''s study, all wide-eyed and speed. That was how they caught snakes, as the artist had so helpfully illustrated one in the act. He even looked like one, his messy hair puffing up like the mongoose did, and his teeth bared in a snarl. He was only needed to file his teeth into points, Nikolas thought, irritated, and he would very much be mistaken as one. Their only predator were hawks, and even then hawks had trouble with the beasts. Here the artist had drawn the creature baring its sharp fangs at the bird, unafraid. It was stupid to pick a fight with Surio when he knew he couldn''t win, Nikolas knew, even if he did like Jozin''s company. He liked the flashes of memory Jozin would share with him, the snowy fields of Skapina, the mountains that were shaped like a dragon''s spine, the frozen lake and the sudden burst of green that came during the summer. Jozin never showed him any of the inhabitants there. "They like their privacy." They were sitting in Nikolas''s bedroom again, and this time Valdi didn''t accompany them. "Do you like your privacy?" Jozin blinked at him, "Well, I am here with you, aren''t I?" There was that half-smile on his face that was very familiar now. "You can come with us, if you want, Nikolas. Surio''s just lonely is all, you know he doesn''t actually have any siblings at all, he''s an orphan from Icfeld and my mother took him to Skapina." "So he''s like your brother?" That would make sense, his brothers could be annoying in their own way. "No!" Jozin shook his head. "That would be horrible, I would hate sharing a room with Surio!" "It''s not too bad, my brothers are never here." "But your oldest brother is coming back right?" said Jozin, nodding his head towards Richan''s empty bed, "He''s going to get married, isn''t he?" "Soon," Nikolas agreed. Knowing Richan, he would be more than excited to settle down with a family of his own, one that he was free to order around. But also knowing Richan, it would be to Brytha that he would write his letters to for advice when one of his children misbehaved. Book 1 - Chapter 6 Richan came back in his carriage dressed in such finery Nikolas could barely recognize him. "You''re fit for a lady of the court," his father said, beaming. It must have been the first genuine smile Nikolas had seen on his father''s face in years. Then again, that was Richan, he was everything Nikolas wasn''t, handsome and witty and charming. He could talk like Brytha and make everyone just listen, because he was the sort of person that had things to say. Not like Nikolas. But it was hard to be upset at Richan when he broke away from their sisters'' embrace to throw his arms around Nikolas. "Nikolas! It''s so great to see you again! And you''ve gotten taller as well!" Nikolas rubbed his neck, "Not that tall, you''re still taller, Richan." "Did you know that the lady Prina wrote to me?" Richan said in a rush, "Prina!" She visited their house precisely one time and turned up her nose at a crying Ada. Well, as long as Richan liked her, he must have found something charming about her. Apparently this was not news to Brytha or their father, for he called for the cook and the maids to serve up a spontaneous party. It was enough to make Nikolas''s head spin. Lady Prina must really be a catch. But as it always happened he stepped away from the bustle and excitement of the party. Not that he hated his family, it was nice to see his father so relaxed, and Brytha was really laughing at whatever Richan said. Even Guigo and Diasa joined the party, and wasn''t that a surprise, they never liked big gatherings. Sanna and Viola and Lianne were all taking turns telling Richan what things they had gotten up to while he was away all the while Felie and Ada competed to see who could braid more ribbons into his hair. Richan was like some exotic flower surrounded by butterflies. Everyone seemed to have a place to be. Everyone but him. Nikolas sighed deeply, and glanced to where the Masteritsa was sitting with Jozin and her men. After a quick glance, to make sure he wouldn''t be missed, he made his way over. Jozin caught his gaze, and gestured for him to sit at an empty table where he was quickly joined by Surio, to Nikolas''s disappointment. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. He knew Richan would be bunking with Brytha, no doubt to catch up what she couldn''t write to him in her letters so he smiled through gritted teeth and asked if Jozin would like to join him tonight, along with Surio, out of politeness than Nikolas actually wanting him to be there. It was turned down, as he had expected, Surio turning to Jozin to hiss angrily. "He''s just a stupid regular boy, Jo, what do you even see in him? He can barely hold his sword or read his letters, " another scoff, "join us in our rooms! We can play cards with the others and Valdi has got these really nice sweets from the market. " Surio sometimes called Jozin Jo, Nikolas recognized that particular nickname, but the rest he could only guess from Surio''s surly expression and insistent pulling on Jozin''s hand. Nothing Surio said about him was flattering or kind, he concluded. "Why can''t he decide?" he snapped, slapping Surio''s hand away, "he said he wanted to come." Surio''s cheeks flushed, and he said to Jozin, a stubborn tilt to his chin, "He''s only wanting to be your friend because he wants to get married to you! " "What? " "Why do you think the people ''round here are so nice? They all want what you have! Same as the ones in Skapina." He wasn''t sure what Surio said to Jozin, but from the tremble of his lip and the furtive glance he gave at Nikolas and then at Nikolas''s family, celebrating Richan''s return and impending marriage, whatever it was wasn''t good. He pushed past Nikolas, opening and closing the door silently after himself, only now Nikolas knew it was deliberately silent, the door didn''t close that way normally when his sisters did it. "What did you even say to him?" Nikolas rounded on Surio, pulling himself up to his full height, which wasn''t much. "The truth!" Surio snarled back, all teeth. "You merchants, you all think people are like gold you can count and store! Well, you''re wrong! And Jozin isn''t a thing you throw off when you''re done getting your coins counted!" "I''m not a merchant!" Surio raised an eyebrow. "You act like one, all shut in with your books you can''t read and counting, all the time counting with your father. I see you! You look at people and see what things you can count from them!" There was an eagerness in Surio''s eyes as he too pulled himself up to his full height. It was almost comical, like how the mongoose does its swaying dance before going in for the kill, but Nikolas didn''t like it at all, "I don''t!" This made Surio laugh, "You''re so stupid and boring," he said between chuckles, and Nikolas hated that he couldn''t understand the words being thrown at him, "you think that all there is to life is to get married and then count coins! What horrible boring people you Icfeldians are." He spun on his heels and made to go after Jozin, leaving Nikolas feeling very lost. He unclenched his fists and realized he''d gouged the palms of his hands. Book 1 - Chapter 7 It turned out Brytha and Richan''s conversation was rather short, because his brother came ambling in not long after Nikolas had resigned himself to a lonely night. "Why the long face?" said Richan, forgoing his own bed to sit down on Nikola''s. "And here I thought you would be happy I was home!" Nikolas scowled, and crossed his arms, "You won''t tell Brytha would you?" "I swear," Richan nodded solemnly, hand on his heart. "I like Jozin," said Nikolas then hastily adding, "it''s Jozin not Jozina. That''s what he told me, and I don''t want to give Brytha any ideas . I just don''t understand," Nikolas fidgeted with his sleeve, "you don''t think I''m a bad friend do you? I don''t know what Surio¡ª the stableboy ¡ª said something and he just ran out and he said he''d come up and see me¡ª" Nikolas took in a breath, "¡ªand I don''t even know what Surio said!" He had a good half guess, but he wasn''t telling Richan. In response, Richan tapped his chin, "I could go fetch Jozin for you." "What?" "He''s a Skapinian boy isn''t he? Surely he''d be interested in what I''ve got." There was a mischievous smile on Richan''s face that Nikolas knew all too well. "What do you have?" Nikolas sat up, pulling insistently at Richan''s sleeve, "what do you have?" "I''ll go get Jozin and then I''ll show you, how about it?" "I''ll look through your things! I''ll go through all of it!" Nikolas pointed at the trunk that sat at the foot of Richan''s bed. "You may try." It was an empty threat, but so was Nikolas''s. The last thing he wanted to see was letters from his brother''s sweetheart, Prina or whatever names they called each other, they weren''t just signed, he knew from the disgust he felt upon seeing them that one time he had looked, they were kissed . He sighed deeply and wished that he could just know what it was Surio said to him. How was it fair that Surio could insult him in a tongue that Nikolas didn''t know? His irritation was interrupted by the door opening and Richan coming in with Jozin in tow. Nikolas sat up, amazed. "Your brother said he had something to show us," said Jozin, coming to sit next to Nikolas. Richan''s back was deliberately turned, Nikolas observed, and Jozin leaned in to whisper, "I am sorry I didn''t say yes. I forgot." He looked genuinely apologetic, and held out a hand to Nikolas before withdrawing it, "Sorry." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "That''s alright," said Nikolas, "I don''t mind at all. You came back with Richan so you did keep your promise." Jozin nodded, and let out a breath before the lute in Richan''s hands caught his attention, "Are you a good singer?" said Jozin, curiously looking the instrument up-and-down speculatively. "He is very good!" Nikolas said enthusiastically, even as Richan shook his head. "What song will you sing for us?" "You might remember this one," said Richan. "Skapina''s known to host singers, am I right?" Nikolas watched, a twinge in his gut as Jozin''s face brightened, "You know about that?" "Of course! Every bard worth his salt wants to make the trip. Of course, not many make it but ah, that''s the risk isn''t it?" "The journey is part of the fun," Jozin agreed, settling down as Richan strummed the lute and began to sing. The flowers bloom on the apple trees, And the mist was floating low on the shore She rowed out and went ashore, Kalina! To look for the man she adores! Jozin definitely knew the words, because he was half-humming along to the song. Nikolas would join in as well, but he knew he couldn''t sing. Let us sing, for her, Kalina! Let us carry her words to her sweet Rytsar Let her him hear of her Love that carries to the far off stars! "Rytsar?" Jozin muttered under his breath. Let him remember the golden hair maiden Let it lend him the courage and withstand All the foes that threaten our Motherland For his heart Kalina keeps in her hand "I don''t remember the song ending like that," said Jozin with a frown. "They fly off together, it''s a song about reuniting people, not about Motherlands or courage or keeping hearts in someone''s hands," here he made a disgusted face. "That''s what I was taught," said Richan with a shrug, then, changing the topic smoothly, "I''ve a present for Nikolas. Would you like to see?" "Me?" Jozin pointed to himself, "Why?" "I think you''d be interested in it as well." Richan''s trunk had a secret compartment, Nikolas observed as his brother clicked it open. To be fair, it probably had more than one, and this was the only one Richan wanted Nikolas to know about. His eldest brother pulled out a wrapped package, and held it out to Nikolas who pulled at the woolen coverings curiously. It looked as if Richan wrapped it in the scarf one of his sisters ¡ª probably Lianne¡ª made for him. Next to him Jozin gasped. "Oh, those are lovely!" They were, Nikolas thought, even as he didn''t know why Richan wanted Nikolas to have two handheld mirrors. They were about the size of his palm, and instead of the wooden or metal back that most mirrors he''d seen had, this one was made of an odd shiny material, and delicately veined, like someone froze a leaf in amber. It echoed slightly when Nikolas tapped the surface with a finger. "It''s a dragon scale mirror, and they''re twins of each other you see?" Richan took one of them and held the other out to Nikolas. Instead of his own reflection he saw Richan''s, and Nikolas blinked, bemused. Richan''s reflection chuckled, "I thought," Richan placed the mirror down, glancing at Nikolas, "it might be easier for you, you know, to speak with people rather than write." "Oh." "I told Brytha to help you, but she can be a bit forgetful at times. She doesn''t write much about you but I assumed you wanted to speak with me sometimes, didn''t you?" he grinned, ruffling Nikolas''s hair, "Maybe you''ll just write me a letter yourself one of these days." "What do you mean?" Nikolas stared stupidly at the two dragon scale mirrors. "Oh, no, Richan, you don''t have to give it to me!" Jozin said, shaking his head. "It''s for you and Nikolas! I can find one, and I can¡ª" "It has to be from the same dragon, and freely given," said Richan, patiently, "and what are the chances of that happening?" That made Jozin''s eyes widen, his mouth falling open in shock, "It''s from the same dragon? How did you even get your hands on it?" "Oh, you know," Richan leaned back on the headboard, an amused look coming onto his face, "you give someone the right time of day and he''ll usually make it worth your while." "You met a witch!" Jozin said, clasping his hands together in delight. Richan winked, "I did." Book 1 - Chapter 8 Richan must have said something to Surio as well, for the stable boy actually invited Nikolas to join him and Jozin. Begrudgingly, as Nikolas suspected Surio''s smile was just too wide for his face when the offer was made. But as it turned out, Nikolas wasn''t a complete fool on the training field. Even Valdi had a word or two for him, mainly correcting his posture, and as Jozin said later, "Valdi doesn''t talk to anyone unless he thinks they''re good. Or good enough," Jozin laughed, "he''ll say that." Perhaps seeing that Nikolas wasn''t useless prompted Surio to be friendlier, for he offered to share a sweetcake. "You know in Skapina we store ice in the winter and in the summer we have this with maple syrup." "It sounds good," said Nikolas. "It is the best," Surio said, and he offered another cake to Nikolas. "Skapina isn''t as pretty in the summer, ''cause we have all our special¡ª" here he looked at Jozin and said quickly, "¡ªthings in the winter." Nikolas had never experienced winter as cold as Surio described it, but from the sounds of things, Skapina was a bounty of food in the winter. That was very rare, Nikolas knew from his father''s teachings that winter always came with famine in Icfeld. But perhaps Skapina had very well stocked larders. All in all, it was a great morning and when Jozin bid him farewell for the noon meal, Nikolas couldn''t help but burst into Brytha''s room where she and a veritable army of seamstresses and tailors surrounded Richan. Nikolas couldn''t recognize whatever fashion they were attempting to put Richan into, but the fabric matched his eyes and Richan looked cheerful enough. "How did you do it?" Nikolas demanded, running towards his older brother. "Watch it!" Brytha snapped, her eyes on whatever cloth was pinned on Richan. "Don''t touch it with your grubby little hands Nikolas, this is silk!" "What did I do?" said Richan, though from the twinkle in his eyes, Nikolas suspected he already knew. "Surio! What did you say to him?" "You talked to a little stableboy?" Brytha said, rolling her eyes. "I talked to lots of people," said Richan. To Nikolas he said, "When you want people to act how you''d like them to act, just take a moment to understand what they want to be. Surio''s always wanted to be a loyal Rytsar¡ª" Brytha let out an incredulous laugh while Richan gave Nikolas a friendly smile, "I appealed to his better nature." "What nature?" said Brytha, and Nikolas was inclined to agree. "Look, you can''t just order people around all the time," Richan said patiently. "I disagree," said Brytha. The two of them began bickering, their friendly argument was only interrupted by Ada bursting through the room. "Mama''s home!" she shouted, "Mama''s home!" "Mother?" Brytha''s eyes widened, she met Richan''s eyes who also looked surprised, "Now?" - - - He didn''t see his mother until dinner time, where the Masteritsa was invited along with Jozin who sat next to her. They were all seated at the big dining table for the first time in a long time, his siblings lined up by age, except for Felie, who insisted on sitting next to their mother. There were heavy circles under her eyes, Nikolas noted, and she wore the battle gloves of the Tsaritsa''s Voevoda. She only took it off once when the Masteritsa offered a hand towards her, and the Masteritsa''s smile, so warm and soft before, froze into a thin line. "Voevoda Diase," said the Masteritsa, "how was your journey?" "Pleasant," said his mother shortly. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The two women met each other''s gaze and held it for a long while. "Diase," said his father, clearing his throat. His father''s smile was strained, his grey eyes flickering from one woman''s face to the other. "Perhaps, Masteritsa, you would like to speak with my wife in her study?" "Voevoda Diase," said the Masteritsa, and for the first time, she sounded cold. Nikolas felt a chill run down his back, and the windows of the dining room rattled. "To whom did you pay your toll? For," she glanced around at the table and her eyes landed on Richan, Lianne, Felie, Ada and finally back to Diase, "they have surely lied to you." Diase stood up, and smiled thinly, "Do not speak of such things, Masteritsa. For you know that is treason." "You have not paid it in full," said the Masteritsa, also standing up. She gestured for Jozin to stand up and come beside her. "I cannot help you, Voevoda." To Aldeim she said softly, "Thank you for your hospitality, Aldeim." "We''re leaving? " Jozin whispered, tapping his mother''s hand, "Mother? Why? " She only squeezed his shoulder in response, but Nikolas caught one word from her mouth, a Skapinian word he could recognize by now, "¡ªmagic. " Jozin''s eyes widened and he glanced at Nikolas, shaking his head sadly before he left the room with the Maserista, the door closing with a final click behind them. "Diase," said Aldeim, "What did you do." When she didn''t respond, he stood up, pushing the chair to the ground with a clatter, "WHAT did you do?" His mother refused to meet his father''s eyes. She tried pushing him away, but Aldeim stood firm. "What, Diase? What did you do?" "I did my duty," she said finally. Aldeim''s eyes widened, and he stepped away from her, shaking his head, "No." "Yes." Nikolas felt a tap on his shoulder, and by his side Richan gave him a tense look, "We should leave," he said, motioning to Brytha who had already gathered up their younger siblings. The wooden oak of the dining room door kept out most sounds, but even it could not stop Nikolas from hearing Aldeim''s fury. "WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?" Whenever something went awry with their parents, which was rare, their mother and father rarely fought, it was Brytha and Richan that usually stepped up. Divide and conquer, Brytha would say, which meant that she would take the younger girls to their rooms, or a room and Richan would likewise handle the twins and the older girls. Or they would switch depending on the situation, Nikolas remembered an infamously long and loud spat between his mother and father when she wanted to send Richan off to be properly educated. Everyone knew Aldeim favored Richan, but Richan was so¡­ favorable that no one bothered to contest that position. The two of them left Nikolas by himself, as they both deemed him, as Richan put it, ''intelligent enough to keep out of trouble''. That was how he found himself in the Masteritsa''s quarters. It seemed barely half an hour since she had left with Jozin from the dining room, and she should still be packing her things, if she was like the other guests his father had hosted. But Nikolas passed by Rytsars carrying a large wooden trunk and two smaller ones to one of the wooden wagons, and heard the sounds of horses being saddled up. They were leaving, he thought, biting his lip, Jozin was leaving and they didn''t even spend that much time together! And what if Jozin didn''t want to use the dragon scale mirror? He stood there in the corridor, wondering what he could say and was nearly collided into by Valdi carrying his own things outside. The two of them stared at each other, before the corners of the man''s beard twitched and he turned to call back into the room. "Jo, it''s your little soldier friend, " said Valdi, "he wants to say something. " He shifted the pack he had on his back and held out his hand to Nikolas, "Was nice training for a young Rytsar." "Me?" Nikolas gestured towards himself, "I''m not a Rytsar." "A Knight?" offered the older man. "This new word from the Icfeld? Knight," he looked bemused, and shrugged, "Rytsar, knight, soldier, what matters?" "Knight," Nikolas muttered to himself, rolling the word around in his tongue. Icfeld had many of them after all, and there were many words for the things one can do to serve the Queen. He liked the sound of it, perhaps he could be a better knight than he could a Rytsar. They had to know how to read properly, Rytsars. "Nikolas!" Jozin came bounding out of the door, rather breathless, "I''m sorry, I asked if we could stay longer and my mother said no, well, she said we had things to do as well and she did say that she''s sure I found what I was looking for here anyway so there''s no point staying any longer¡ª" Valdi had pointedly walked off, Nikolas noticed, as Jozin was rambling on. "¡ª I could send you letters with things from Skapina! Surio thinks you''d like to try one of the cakes and I think you should as well¡ª" "Jozin," the Masteritsa, appearing from the bedroom they shared, "please don''t tell him." He gave her a half glance, "I didn''t! " he exclaimed, "I was only telling Nikolas I would send him something, and we can talk as well, I promise!" At this he held out a hand, palm up towards Nikolas. "Put your palm on top of his," said the Masteritsa, "and you''ll grasp fingers, like a handshake, but¡ª" "¡ª a palmshake," said Jozin, and did what the Masteritsa described. Then he said, very solemnly, and in a much more sober tone than his jovial ones, "I promise to talk with Nikolas," then when the Masteritsa nodded pointedly, added, "and be his friend." "... and so do I." Nikolas repeated, hoping that it was the correct thing to say. It must have been, because Jozin gave him a winning smile and the three of them began walking towards the courtyards and the horses that were surely already harnessed to the wagons. He didn''t expect to see Surio, and very much doubted that he would see the boy at all, but Surio poked his head out from the Masteritsa''s wagon. After putting down a stool for the Masteritsa to step up to the carriage, he scurried over to where Nikolas stood with Jozin. "So," said Surio, "we are leaving." "Yes," said Nikolas, resisting the urge to add, ''obviously''. "It was nice meeting you," said Surio, then adding, "your brother Richan, tell him I said it was nice talking with him. He was¡ª" Surio swallowed, "¡ª is very nice." He offered his palm to Nikolas as well, and, like Jozin before him, in a solemn voice said, "I wish you and your family well, and I''ll send you a cake, as long as you''re still living here when I get Svela to make it for me." The two boys climbed into the wagon, Jozin opening up a window to wave out as the wagon began rolling away. "Goodbye!" Nikolas waved back, forcing a smile onto his face, his left hand palming the necklace around his throat. ''You are always welcomed in Skapina,'' the Masteritsa had told him. Perhaps one day then, he could go, so there was no reason to be upset about the farewell. ¡­ It would only be many years later, upon reflection, that Nikolas wondered if Surio''s words were an omen of things to come. Book 1 - Chapter 9 Whatever arguments his parents had were resolved or buried quickly enough, because the entire house was now busy with preparations for Richan''s wedding. His bride would arrive to fetch him, and it was customary that the groom''s family host the party. There was nothing more that Aldeim hated than parties, Nikolas knew, all the noise and guests and extravagance was nothing like the simple things in his father''s study. But he put on a smile nonetheless, because it was Richan, his eldest, and everyone knew that if there was any wedding worth going to, it was the first-born son''s. So the mood in the house was festive, until it dawned on his younger sisters that Richan would be leaving soon and he found himself having to console them nearly day and night. Not all of them, Guigo expressed his distaste at the whole affair and proclaimed he would never get married. "Of course you wouldn''t," Richan agreed. "You would just live your entire life, reading in a library, and no one would dare pull you out of it or throw a party in a library and risk the librarians'' wrath." "Particularly if it''s a magical library," Diasa agreed, grinning toothily. Guigo had nodded his head in agreement. And so Nikolas thought that he would be forgotten again, as was customary when things became hectic in the household, but Richan surprised him by announcing that he would like to spend the evening with Nikolas, so that it was fair. This was meant by moans and complaints from his sisters, until Richan raised an eyebrow. "No one upsets a groom near his wedding day," said Richan. "On," Brytha corrected, irritably, but conceded. "Fine. Richan wants to have a moment with everyone. Because you''re all his favorite." Nikolas doubted her sincerity, but he was happy that it was Richan in the bedroom with him that night, and under the light of the candles, he could almost imagine it was like when they were sharing rooms before the twins were born. Brytha had been with them as well, but she was precise about bedtime and never stayed up past anything. She simply didn''t care for fun. Brytha was missing out, because they were playing cards, and not just any cards, little horse and bird cards that you were supposed to match in paired numbers. The horses were running across the cards as well, and that meant the numbers changed, while the birds'' numbers changed in a specific pattern. Everyone thought it was random, but Nikolas knew otherwise, and he always won when it was just birds. Richan chuckled when Nikolas won the third time in a row. Then a contemplative look came to him and he said, "Would you have married anyone Mother or Father asks you to?" "I guess?" said Nikolas, blinking. "Is it the right thing to do? Is it not?" Richan huffed out a laugh, "I suppose it is." "You don''t think so?" Richan visibly swallowed and placed the cards down, "I told you and Jozin that I met a witch didn''t I?" He shook his head, sighed, and said, his eyes still on the card. It was a horse, not a bird, and Richan''s finger traced the horse''s flowing mane. "He told me to run away with him. He said it would be fun. He said there''s no point in me staying." His lips twitched, "But I told him it wasn''t the right thing to do, to just leave behind my family like that. And that''s when he gave me the mirror and, I suppose, he thought I would want to share it with him, but I told him it wasn''t proper. And then he laughed, and¡ª" here Richan coughed, blinking rapidly, "it doesn''t matter. I did what''s right." "You always do what''s right," Nikolas insisted, moving closer, "You''re a great person, Richan, and everyone loves you and¡ª" "What about you then, Nikolas?" said Richan, switching the topic, like he always did. "Everyone loves you too, little brother, don''t they?" he winked at the last words. "Well, yes, but, I''m not¡­" Nikolas jumped off the bed, then flopped back on it again, "I''m not good at anything! I''m not like everyone in this family, everyone has something they''re good at and I''m just here!" "Are you sure about that? You''ve tried¡ª" Many things, Nikolas thought, and swept his hand across the bed, throwing the cards onto the floor. "All I do is try!" Nikolas interrupted, crossing his arms, "I''m not good at numbers or reading or playing an instrument or charming or witty or whatever. I''m just¡­" he bit his lip. Just Nikolas sounded ridiculous, considering his namesake. "That''s the point though," said Richan. "You try and you''re very good at working through the problem. You didn''t have to memorize Brytha''s lessons," he gave a knowing grin, "but you did, didn''t you? If you''re good, and everyone tells you you''re good then you don''t care to improve." There was a sad note to his last words. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "I''m going to miss you," said Nikolas, throwing his arms around Richan. "You have to visit. I don''t care how far away your wife lives. You have to visit and bring your children with you." "Of course," Richan agreed, "I''ll do that. I promise." ¡­ Richan had always kept his promises. Except this one. But at the time he was happy that Richan wouldn''t forget him so he settled down into bed, content in that knowledge. The next morning Felie and Ada were the first to greet him when Nikolas, out of habit since Jozin''s visit, woke up early. "Why are you awake at this time of day?" "Cook is nicer when you help her in the morning," said Felie, seriously. "And how do you help her?" said Nikolas with a laugh, imagining Felie attempting to roll dough and no doubt getting half of it over her face and the other half on the floor. "I can do things!" Felie insisted. "She can too!" Ada agreed, "She makes the cakes so much nicer!" "Oh, can you?" "Yes," Felie nodded seriously, "I was going to pack something for Richan when he leaves, a basket of cookies that won''t spoil until he gets to his new house. Cook thinks I can do it." "We''ve practiced!" Ada nodded. "I''ve practiced, dummy! You only watched!" "I did things too! I held your dress for you!" "For what?" "So you won''t get flour on it!" Nikolas chuckled, "And what cakes will you make for Richan?" "Bear shaped ones!" Felie said seriously, "White bears, and the white-ness will be sugar! Lots and lots of sugar." It was a thinly veiled excuse for Felie and Ada to eat the sugar, but Nikolas agreed to play along, "Do you want me to help you as well?" "Yes, yes, and you can make something for Richan as well! And I can make it last too!" Well, it would seem that Felie was the witch in the family. Or the wizard, if what his father said was right, but then again, wizards didn''t cook simple things, they made banquets and feasts for the Tsaritsa in her palaces. Nikolas took Felie''s hand in his, Ada''s in the other and together the three of them made their way to the kitchen. The cook was a burly woman, with massive forearms and an ever-present frown. She came from Aldeim''s hometown, and it was her that accompanied Aldeim to his new household when he married their mother. The fact that she missed her hometown was known to everyone, Warada it clear no fish, fowl or fauna ever came to her fresh here, the merchants were cheating her, and if she had it her way she would personally fetch the ingredients herself, like she did in ''the good old days''. But she had a soft spot for children, and tolerated Felie and Ada''s mischief the longest. "What are you doing here, young master Nikolas?" she said upon seeing him. She was pickling fruit, or making jam, it was hard to tell, Nikolas never really bothered coming to the kitchens to know. "He''s going to make a present for Richan!" Ada announced. "Ah, is he?" Warada motioned to a small table in the corner, about the height of Ada and Felie, "I''ve got the dough all nice there. You can make them into your little shapes¡ª" "Bears!" "Bears," agreed Warada, "and then I''ll show you how to make them last¡ª" "Wait, you can do magic?" Nikolas blinked. Warada turned to him, hands on her hips, "You sound very surprised, master Nikolas." "He doesn''t see you do it," said Felie. "He''s just surprised, you''re not mad are you?" "No, of course I am not, miss," said Warada, a soft look coming to her eyes. "Why would I be?" To Nikolas she gave a half-smile, "Perhaps if the numbers frustrate you so much you could come and try your hands in the kitchen?" "I can''t tell any flavors apart," said Nikolas, remembering the disastrous dinner party that only happened once, and he was never invited again, "I don''t think I''m very useful." "Well, if you insist," said Warada. Nikolas was more than happy to sit back while his sisters and their cook shaped the dough into the white bears that Felie was so fond of, but he leaned in curiously when Warada began telling Felie how to make the cakes last. "You have to think of what goes in it," said Warada, "hold the image in your head, smell the cakes, and think of what you don''t want it to smell, and what you wish it to smell, and taste, and look like, and¡ª" she made a gesture with her hands. Felie copied the gesture, and while nothing happened when Warada did it, when Felie''s flourishes finished, the bear shaped pieces of dough¡ª unbaked¡ª unmistakably took on a much more oven finished appearance, crisp and smelling like fresh butter and cinnamon and sprinkled with white sugar. They even had little raisins for their eyes. "Oh, that is¡­ wonderful," said Nikolas, grinning at the beaming smile Felie gave him. "Is it?" "You''ll have to wait though," said Warada, "We''ll do another batch, just in case this one goes bad before then, hm?" "It won''t!" Felie nodded her head. "I''ll taste it to be sure!" said Ada, reaching for a cake. Nikolas and Warada both opened their mouths to say no, but it was Felie who passed the cake to Ada. "The pair of you, worse than Guigo and Diasa," said Warada, "I would think you''re twins too!" Then she shooed them off for breakfast, where, as customary, they all sat around the table in birth order. All of them, except¡ª "Richan isn''t up?" said Brytha with a frown, glancing at the empty chair. "I''ll bring something up to him later," said Aldeim, taking a drink from his goblet. His parents did not talk to each other at all, but perhaps that was just his father giving his mother time to talk to her children. She was quite happy with Nikolas''s progress and praised his knowledge of her battles. But it wasn''t praise , Nikolas only knew it because he was listening in to Brytha''s lessons, and he watched, sourly, as his siblings basked in the attention of their deserved talents. "Are you done eating, Nikolas?" said Aldeim, tapping his shoulder, "Would you like to bring the plates up to Richan with me?" It was a rather odd request, but Nikolas would rather be anywhere but here, listening to Felie recount her magic to their attentive mother. "Yes, father." "Your mother doesn''t mean anything by it, you know," said Aldeim, when they were ascending the stairs. "She just has an eye for a particular magic and Felie just happens to have it and¡ª" Nikolas ignored him, gritting his teeth. But his father paused on the stairs, turning to give Nikolas a rare smile, "I think you''ll prove yourself in time," said Aldeim. "It would be very sad to say that you have climbed the highest mountain at ten, wouldn''t it?" Nikolas nodded glumly, but decided to smile anyway, because it was not often that Aldeim smiled and it made his lined face handsome, and youthful. Nikolas could almost imagine the young man his mother married. That smile quickly vanished when Aldeim knocked on the door and, after some moments with no answer, pushed open the door. The plates fell from Aldeim''s hands, "Richan?" He rushed to Richan''s bed, putting his hand on Richan''s forehead, "Richan?" He couldn''t see Richan, but Nikolas knew that Aldeim never sounded terrified. Never, not when a thief broke into their house and waved a knife in their faces. "Father?" "Go to Brytha''s room," said Aldeim, not looking at Nikolas, taking a washcloth from the table and wiping at Richan''s brow, "You are not to sleep here tonight, understand? No one is to come in." He couldn''t see Richan''s face, and Nikolas took a tentative step forward, "Is Richan alright?" "I said go!" For the last several nights their house had the hurried footsteps of people getting ready for a party, but tonight, Nikolas could hear his mother ring out a call for a healer, chiming the bell again and again. And to his and Brytha''s horror, it would seem that bells were ringing throughout the entire village. Book 1 - Chapter 10
He didn''t expect Jozin to bother talking to him that night, if his knowledge of the maps hanging on his father''s study was correct, then Skapina was very far away. That is if Jozin and his mother were even heading to Skapina. She was a Masteritsa and they always had important things to do, usually meeting other Masteritsas. He watched Brytha toss and turn in her bed before finally settling down to an uneasy sleep. Nikolas tip-toed towards the window, peering outside. There were healers rushing to and fro in their gray frocks, lanterns in front of them, half of their faces shrouded. It didn''t look good, whatever it was, but Richan was strong, wasn''t he? It was just an illness, wasn''t it? Everyone became ill, perhaps it was something he''d eaten or just the stress of dealing with them. Nikolas felt a stone sinking in his gut. He didn''t ask too much of Richan, did he? "Pss!" Nikolas jumped, and glanced about the room. "Pss! Nik! Nik! Where are you?" Nikolas whirled around, patting at his clothes and pockets to find where he''d put the scale. When he pulled it out he was greeted by waves from both Jozin and Surio. The two of them looked as if they were hiding under a quilt, Nikolas could faintly make out the pattern on it, stars and forests, before he gave a forced smile. "How was your journey?" "You''re not hosting us, you don''t have to be nice," Jozin said. His hair was in complete disarray as he leaned closer to the dragon scale. "Are you alright?" "I am?" He saw the two boys glance at each other, "That''s good," said Surio. "Why?" "The grown-ups were talking and they said something was coming to Icfeld," said Jozin, seriously, "and my mother said something about wizards and she didn''t sound happy¡ª" "She never sounds happy when she talks about wizards," said Surio, and looked as if he wanted to say more but Nikolas decided to interrupt him. "Richan''s ill!" Nikolas exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down. "Richan''s ill and I don''t know¡­ do you know if there''s a magic thing that fixes it?" Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Jozin blinked, and looked at Surio before he said, "What kind of sickness does he have?" "What do you mean?" "You can cure a magical one," said Jozin, "well, usually, you can. But there are some magical things you can''t cure. But magic can''t heal broken bones, you know, I broke my arm once and mother couldn''t do anything about it. She said it''s not good to fiddle about with things she doesn''t know and the witches that do know are a bit¡ª" "¡ªmad," Surio finished. "Very mad," he added, "You don''t want to ask them to heal you." "I''m sure Richan would be fine!" Jozin said firmly, "I am very sure¡ª" "¡ª You can''t say that!" The two of them glared at each other before Surio turned to Nikolas and said, "Whatever you do, don''t ask for magical help. No witch or wizard had ever done good fixing people, you''ll have more luck asking a bear to dance." "They have dancing bears in Icfeld," Jozin pointed out, "didn''t you remember?" "Fine, whatever, ask a horse to walk on two legs," said Surio, then giving Nikolas a serious look, "Don''t do it." "I can''t tell my mother what to do," said Nikolas. "You have a mother," Surio said churlishly. The two of them glared at each other before Jozin said, in an all too cheerful voice, "You know we''re in Skapina now?" "You are?" Nikolas frowned, "You are not joking?" "No, no, look!" said Jozin, throwing the covers off of him and Surio and walking over to a window, "See?" His own village was lit, and his house was lit the most, because his mother could afford the oil for it, but in Skapina, it would seem that everyone could have oil lights in their houses and even on the streets. Snowflakes were softly falling outside, and Jozin''s breath frosted the window. He reached out with a hand to wipe them away and what Nikolas saw next both puzzled and intrigued him. Nikolas blinked and rubbed at his eyes. "Is that a house on¡­ chicken legs?" "Rooster," Jozin clarified, "rooster, ''cause Baba Yaga says that they wake up earlier than hens." "Real roosters?" "I don''t know," Jozin shook his head, "maybe?" "You''re not supposed to show him Skapina!" "My mother said he could come whenever he wanted to. So what if he sees it now? " Surio let out an angry breath through his teeth and crossed his arms. Nikolas heard angry footsteps on a stone floor and a door opening and closing. "Surio¡ª" Jozin said, then sighed, "He''s not angry at you." Then he smiled, tentatively, "What do you think? Would you like to visit?" "You would like me to?" "Why not?" "But don''t you have friends? You''re the Masteritsa''s son! Don''t you have other people¡­" Nikolas trailed off. What was so special about me, he wanted to say, what made him special that the Masteritsa would invite him to Skapina and that Jozin would want to be his friend? "Skapina''s different from Icfeld, there''s not a lot of children, and they don''t have to play with me if they don''t want to, even if I am a Masteritsa''s son," said Jozin, "and well," he gave Nikolas a shy smile, "It was nice of you, to listen. I think." He let out a breath, "I had so many people wanting me to do this and that and tell me this and that and they never really listened." "I''m special because I listen," Nikolas repeated incredulously, struggling to hold back a grin. "No!" "That''s what you said!" Nikolas said, teasingly. "I just!" Jozin let out a breath, "It was nice, I liked that you listened." Well he had plenty of experience in that, Nikolas thought. "How do I even go to Skapina?" "Oh you don''t just go ," said Jozin, matter-of-factly. "Skapina finds you." Then he laughed at the confusion on Nikolas''s face. Book 1 - Chapter 11 They talked some more, Jozin was quite happy to talk when Surio wasn''t morosely hovering over his shoulder. Nikolas felt like he should tell Jozin to stop, he should be going to bed, and it wouldn''t bode well to be late to breakfast tomorrow and Richan wouldn''t be there to¡ª he swallowed. "My mother''s very good," he said out loud, "I''m sure she''ll find a solution." Jozin blinked, then smiled widely, "I am sure she will!" Then he reached for something next to his bed. It was very heavy, by the way Jozin''s face scrunched up as he carefully placed it in front of him. Nikolas caught sight of it briefly, it was an old and battered book, though the pages looked like it was dipped in silver for it was shining too brightly for it to be just regular paper. "Do you want me to read you a story? It''ll be really slow, because it''s not in your tongue¡­" he brightened when Nikolas nodded excitedly, "alright, I''ll start." It turned out Skapina had dragons, lots and lots of them, before the Great Schism, when the world itself was divided. But the mountains around it were shaped by dragons, Jozin read, and if you dig deeply enough you could wake one up. "Has anyone ever ridden one?" said Nikolas sleepily, struggling to keep his eyes open. "No!" Jozin looked bewildered, shaking his head, his curls bouncing, "They''re not horses!" "I suppose it would be very cold to ride them," Nikolas mused, there was one time his father took the family up to the mountains and the experience was more chilling than relaxing. "No they''re supposed to be very warm," said Jozin, "they''re supposed to burn like, oh I don''t know, a thousand bonfires. But they won''t let you, ''cause that''s weird. It''s like riding a person." "Very!" Nikolas agreed. The book continued for a while after that, but when Jozin started to yawn, Nikolas politely said his goodbyes. He didn''t want to intrude on his friend''s time afterall, and if Jozin read him the entire book then what was the point of talking the next night? He carefully placed the scale under his pillow, and now that Jozin mentioned it, he could feel its faint warmth through the fabric. There was almost a tic-tic sound, like a faint heart, and the melody was soft and soothing as he closed his eyes. He awoke to chaos. The first thing he saw was Brytha in the room, and all his sisters, all in various stages of dress. "Mama''s very mad!" Ada exclaimed, rushing towards him. She was just in her nightgown, and her hair, usually brushed and braided, was a tangled bird''s nest. "She is!" Felie pouted. She too looked tousled, though she at least looked like she tried to brush her hair. "She told us all to come in and close the door! And we didn''t even have breakfast!" Nikolas''s eyes were on his oldest sister. Usually Brytha would give him a reassuring look, a smile, a faint nod. But this time her face was grim as she closed the curtains and turned to the rest of the siblings. Unlike the rest of them she was dressed for the morning, though there were shadows under her eyes and she was tapping her foot nervously, shifting from foot to foot. "I''m sure Cook will bring us breakfast soon!" Brytha declared loudly, her smile too bright and wide. "Please just sit down and wait." "What is going on?" Diasa demanded, shoving past Brytha to look out the window. This led to a chaotic tide as all of the children shoved, elbowed and pushed their way through the window. Brytha managed to keep Ada and Felie away by plucking each child as they attempted to climb over their older siblings. Nikolas knew the game well enough, though when he saw the view beneath he quickly regretted his quick reflexes. There were l¨§karkas everywhere, swarming the town in their hooded bird costumes. There were so many of them they weren''t even wearing their usual black, some had resorted to a mix-match of cobbled together colors. The sight of them was enough to hush the rambunctious twins, and the cheery trio of Viola, Sanna and Lianne covered their mouths. That wasn''t the worst part, Nikolas realised, gulping. The worst part came with assistant l¨§kars that came out of the houses. They were in pairs, the l¨§kars, and carried a stretcher between them. The one they carried looked awfully small, even with the distance. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "I told you lot, STEP BACK!" Brytha shouted, grabbing each sibling by the collar and pulling them away from the window. Her face was red as she stood between them all and the window. Breathing heavily she said again, a forced smile on her face, "Now, we''re going to sit down, we''re going to wait for Cook. We''re going to be pleasant until mother or father comes to fetch us. Do you all agree?" There was a look on her face that dared them all to disagree and for once the twins did not shout back a smart reply. They all sat there, morose, Nikolas retreating to his own bed, occasionally taking furtive looks at his pillow, and then at Richan''s empty bed. Brytha had taken a seat there, and was hugging Richan''s pillow to her chest, taking in deep heavy breaths. Ada had sat herself on Brytha''s lap, occasionally giving Brytha a confused look. The twins¡­ well the twins were in a corner whispering to themselves. His other sisters were huddled together, miserable frowns on their faces. For once they tolerated Felie joining them. That was how wrong everything was. Then there was a knock on the door and Brytha was the first on her feet, pushing everyone firmly out of the way. It was Warada, and for once her cheeks were white and her hands were shaking. "Here, here," said Warada, handing out two steaming trays of porridge and bread, "take it, take it, and leave it out the door when you''re done." Felie tried to rush forward but Nikolas held out a hand to stop her, "Not the time!" he said firmly and she pouted. "This tastes bad!" Ada declared, sticking out her tongue and pushing the food away, "It''s sour!" "Have mine," Brytha said, diplomatically, "or put more honey on yours, how about that?" The food tasted fine to Nikolas. Warada was always a good cook, though he supposed this was less than what she would normally make for their family. He dreamt wistfully of a breakfast, a full breakfast with Richan sitting next to him. They would have bread with raisins, three different types of jam, butter and milk, perhaps even boiled eggs and tarts, if Warada was feeling generous that day. Perhaps it was before the house was full, back then his father would butter everyone''s bread and joke at the table. It was so long ago Nikolas wasn''t even sure if they were jokes, he just remembered that Aldeim had liked making jokes, and the lines around his face were because he laughed with Richan or Brytha or Nikolas. Something must have happened when the twins were born because Aldeim became so much more serious. Brytha did not talk about it on principle, and no matter how much Richan begged Richan, his older brother didn''t tell him either. All Nikolas could recall was that the house was very quiet, even with the cries of the newborn twins. The house was so still you could hear the echoes of footsteps on wood. "If you''re all done, please put away your bowls neatly," said Brytha, "don''t make a mess for Cook now." Then they were back to their places again, except this time Brytha was pacing around the room like a caged snowlion. "You''re making us dizzy!" Diase complained, "Sit down, Brytha, please!" Brytha ignored her, but she paused when the bell of their house rang. She rushed towards the window, blocking it all with her height and holding the curtains firmly closed with her hands. But she wasn''t as fast as Nikolas, and he squeezed in front of her. It was not a l¨§karka he saw at the door, nor was it her accompanying l¨§kars. No, what made him frown and try to look past the foggy window was a Voevoda. Not just any Voevoda, his mother''s uniform he knew very well, no, this one was wearing shining gold on her shoulders, and the bird mask of the l¨§karka as his mother let her into the house. "Oh no," Brytha whispered. "What''s wrong?" Nikolas demanded in hushed tones, "please, please, Brytha, you have to tell me, why is a Voevoda visiting?" He''d seen Brytha angry before. It wasn''t hard, living in a house with so many siblings. The twins in particular liked to play pranks on Brytha, liked to hide her things and make her scream in frustration when she stepped on something sticky placed just under her foot at the right moment. He''d seen her deep in thought, especially when Aldeim gave her a challenging puzzle, her brows would furrow and she''d chew on the end of her quill or her knuckle. Then he''d seen her triumphant, reddish hair flying wildy from the careful bun or braid she kept them tamed in, jumping wildly into the air and clapping her hands. This emotion though, this emotion was so very different, so very strange. "Father was right," Brytha said in an angry hiss, whirling around and the curtains flapping behind her like white wings, "Father was right and Goddess willing I will help him!" It was one of those things he was clearly too stupid to understand. But before he or any of the others could question her outburst, the door opened. Brytha was smiling in an instant. "Father!" she said, rushing to the door, her arms opened, "Father, is everything¡ª" "They told me to separate you children," said Aldeim, and for some odd reason he did not meet anyone''s eyes, "they told me to," he took in a breath, and gave everyone of them a tired smile, now looking at each child in turn, "don''t worry, this will all pass very soon. I was just busy preparing rooms for you all. How about it Ada, Felie? This would be a fun game, wouldn''t it? You''ll have a room to yourself, and I''ll tell Cook to bring you anything you like, how about that?" Ada giggled delightedly, and allowed Aldeim to pick her up into his arms. He hugged her close to his chest and his eyes were shining too brightly as he bent down to pick up Felie. "Should I¡­" Brytha took in a breath. "Should I come with you, Father?" "No, no, you stay here with Nikolas," said Aldeim. "Diasa and Guigo? Viola, Sanna and Lianne?" He was very stupid at math, Nikolas thought wildly, he was very slow at numbers and letters, so he couldn''t quite understand why his father would leave Brytha with him. Didn''t Aldeim take all the children together? He did when they went to the mountains, and he did when they went to the summer and winter festivals. Why did he separate them now? Who, no why did the Voevoda tell him to separate them? The others looked as shocked as he felt, and they all allowed Aldeim to come and take them in the groups that he''d listed out. When it was just him and Brytha he said, hopefully, "Maybe they''ll keep each other company?" Brytha responded with an angry scowl, "I wished!" "What¡­ What did Father tell you?" he said, hesitantly. He didn''t want her to fly into a rage as well. "Mother," Brytha spat out the words, "Mother is reaping her rewards!" Then she buried her face in Richan''s pillow and began to sob. Nikolas stared at her heaving shoulders, the pillow that was slowly getting soaked with tears and hesitantly scrambled for a handkerchief. No, several handkerchiefs. He handed each one to her, and patted her shoulders. It would be beyond stupid to ask her what she meant by ''reaping her rewards'' now. Book 1 - Chapter 12 The next knock that came at the door had Brytha wiping her eyes, blowing her nose and putting a resolute look on her face. She dusted off her dress, unlike his other sisters she was wearing a dress, and had carefully arranged her hair. "Mother," she said, when she opened the door to find Diase staring sternly back. Diase had always looked stern, Nikolas thought, everything about her was neat and orderly. Even when their entire family had woken up in the nightdress Diase looked as if she was ready to go on one of her many assignments. It used to be reassuring, seeing her buckling on her belt and adjusting her sash, but not now. His mother was at home, she should not be in uniform and looking so¡­ cold at them. "We are having dinner," said Diase firmly, "we are having dinner and you too should get ready." "We were told¡ª" Brytha began. "I do not care what the doddering woman has to say!" They both flinched as her fist met the wooden door. "I don''t care!" A deep shuddering breath and when she turned to look at them she wore the same smile Aldeim had given them earlier. Nikolas gulped and stepped back. "Come, Brytha, Nikolas, make yourself presentable, we will go have dinner now." She strode away after that, and Nikolas could hear his mother walking up the stairs. "Father said we were supposed to¡ª" He began, turning to Brytha with what he knew was a look that begged her to explain what was going on, for it was beyond him why his mother would want them to have dinner now. "Since when did she ever care what Father wanted?" Brytha took several shuddering breaths, and to Nikolas''s astonishment, walked towards Richan''s dresser and began rummaging through it for the powder that Richan sparingly used to conceal the ''disgusting pimples''. "Why would you do what she says then?" He knew it was why they fought sometimes, it was always about her promises or the other, but they were always happy afterwards, were they not? And sometimes people argue, his father had explained, it was just the way things were. So why did Brytha sound so venomous and angry? "Nikolas, sometimes," Brytha had a brush in her hand and as she ran it under her eyes the blotchiness faded away. Only temporary, Nikolas knew, it was one of those witches'' powders that lasted until midnight. "Sometimes you have to play along." He stood up to block the door when she made to leave. "I want to know what''s going on! Why are you playing along? You said that¡ª" he lowered his voice, "you meant to say something! What is it? Why won''t you tell me?" For the second time that day some emotion passed across Brytha''s face that he couldn''t quite place. She crossed her arms, tapped her foot then said in hushed tones, "She''s cheating on Father." "Cheating?" He knew card games, but from the way Brytha said it, and with that look on her face it couldn''t be what she meant. He held out both hands, palms up, in a question, she needed to explain more, and raised an eyebrow, which meant that she could spare his feelings on the matter, he could handle the truth. "They say it''s an affair, as if it makes it any better!" Brytha nodded resolutely. "She''s away for so long, of course she would¡ª" Brytha paused, biting her lip, and settled on the word, "look at other men! And they are men, they all fling themselves at her because she''s so high up, so they can also be higher up as well!" "Is that why Father''s mad?" "Well yes, wouldn''t you be?" Brytha said matter-of-factly. "You did everything right and your wife goes off and takes the hand of the first lad that falls into her lap, of course he''ll be mad! And not to mention¡ª" she stopped, chest heaving. "Never mind, here, I''ll help you put on your tunic properly. She said we''re supposed to come down then we''ll come down." "But that was against what Father said to us!" "I already told you Nikolas, she never listens to what he wants!" They glared at each other, and Nikolas was glad that she was not wearing her riding boots with those unfairly high heels. Then to his surprise Brytha backed down. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "I won''t fight you on this. Fine. Fine. I''ll tell you why it''s a secret and I''m playing along if you promise to not say anything to Mother. Will you do that? You''re old enough aren''t you, and I told you she''s never kept any promise of hers to Father." There was a look on her face that usually came when she was thinking deeply and Nikolas nodded, happy to be included in whatever plan it was. "You can''t really go and petition for a divorce, not when your wife''s a Voevoda," said Brytha. "But no one looks when I walk into the office and have a quick gander. The older women there were most informative." So Brytha said something smart, and now she knew which hand to give the coin to and which stamp to get. Why was she so clever? "Then why are we playing along?" "Oh Nikolas," she patted his head, and leaned in to whisper, her voice was sharp and cutting, "we''re going to give Mother the most delightful surprise." It didn''t sound delightful to Nikolas, but surely if he played along then Aldeim would be happier and less stern while tutoring Nikolas. Though now he thought of it, his father was always snappish whenever his Mother was about to return. Has that always been so? He tried to dig through his memories to remember but all he could come up with was the blankness that came to his mind when he was given a book to read. Aldeim might even help him there, Nikolas thought, instead of giving him a sigh of disappointment or a barely concealed huff when Nikolas recited his sister''s passage instead. ''That was not learning,'' his father had said. He held out his hand to his sister, and they shook on it, a merchant''s promise. It wasn''t as magical as a witches'' nor was it properly written down, but it would have to do. As they left the door Brytha took in a deep breath. "Not long now," she muttered. They were the first to be seated at the table, which was laid with dishes from the larder. They were not Warada''s dishes, Nikolas knew that much. Warada sometimes used magic in her kitchen, a little bit there, a dash here, but this, this was overpowering. The woman seated at the table, in his mother''s seat was no doubt the Voevoda from earlier. She had taken off her cloak, but she still wore the fancy robes of the court, all golden thread and her dress depicted scenes of animals that seemed to move from one panel to the next. Her graying hair was pulled back into an elaborate bun and the ivory pins that held it there were glinting in the sunlight. The Voevoda had her head in her hands when they entered but when Brytha pulled a chair out and motioned for Nikolas to sit down she abruptly sat up. "Abandon your plan for now, little girl." Her face was so lined that Nikolas had to hold himself back from flinching. He''d never met anyone that old. The chair scraped against the wooden floor with a screech but Brytha''s voice was as smooth as silk when she spoke, "I beg your pardon, Voevoda?" "Your mother''s problem is not her loyalty to your father," said the Voeveda, and she gave Brytha look one gives while soothing a kicked puppy. "That she was always true. No. Look deeper, girl, and you''ll see." Then her eyes, an odd blue-violet, met Nikolas''s and she shook her head, "And you! Well. We''ll just have to see with you won''t we?" She pushed her chair back and got to her feet, "Tell Diase I won''t participate in her little pity circus." A pause, "Tell Aldeim¡ª" Two years ago his father had taken them all to a summer festival, and there had been a stage and a play. It was set at night, so that the shadows could be casted behind the screen and everyone could see the little shadow puppets and people. But this one was a magical troupe, so they had magical puppets, and the actresses and actors were free to roam the stage, and free to add more voices to the performance. Nikolas did not know the play, and he didn''t want to recall it, because the puppets had been of giant birds, death birds like the masks the l¨§karka wore. All he knew was that they''d snatched up a little puppet girl, and the actress had run across the stage, crying out for her. For the first time he''d reached for his father''s hand, and he remembered clearly, Aldeim had returned with a comforting hand on his back. ''It''s just a story,'' Aldeim had said. This was not midsummer, and he was not at a play watching some puppet birds snatching the puppet girl. The noise echoing through the house, an unearthly wailing was no story and all too real. "No!" Brytha was on her feet, and Nikolas was running after her, and they both headed to the same place, the room where Richan was laying in. They found chaos, Nikolas caught a glimpse of Warada dabbing at her eyes, the l¨§karka rushing out of the room, ushering their apprentices out. There was maybe his mother, still in her regalia in the corner. But what he could see, amid the frantic pushing and shoving, was his father kneeling in front of Richan''s bed. Then his eyes were on Richan, and what he saw before the sheets were hastily pulled over his brother''s face was not Richan. It was like a failed oil painting, like someone had tried to draw his brother''s features but smudged them over, out of malice or stupidity. What kind of illness was this? It had only been one day! And Richan was supposed to¡­ "What did you do!" Brytha wailed, throwing herself at Diase and pushing her out of the room, "What did you do what did you do what¡ª" He thought it had been horrible enough to see Richan but to see his father slowly get to his feet and pull Brytha off, hugging her to his chest. "So it begins," said the Voeveda solemnly, squeezing his shoulder, "so it begins Nikolas." He felt his vision go blurry, and arms were around him, before he was lifted up. He smelled paper and ink, and the herbal spices of the l¨§karka, before Aldeim whispered soothingly in his ear, rubbing his back, "Come, Nikolas, you''re going to stay in your room with Brytha and I''ll come fetch you. Don''t open the door to anyone." When the bedroom door closed again, it felt like a stone dropped in his stomach, he looked at Brytha who had sat herself on Richan''s bed, eyes very wide and mouth slack. She looked lost for words, for the first time since he knew her, and when she saw him, strangely, she beckoned him to sit next to her. Then her arms were around his as the very familiar sounds of an argument started outside their door. "I am so sorry¡ª" "You are sorry." "Aldeim¡ª" "Your words mean nothing to me." "Aldeim¡ª" "Who¡ª" it sounded like someone bit back a scream, "do you even know your son? You¡ªHow do you give eulogies to a stranger?" "Aldeim¡ª Aldeim, you have to believe me, I did not intend for this to happen! I never¡ª" "You lied. You lied to me when you promised¡­" "Cover your ears Nikolas," said Brytha suddenly, and when Nikolas didn''t, she clapped her own hands over his ears. But she didn''t have magical earmuffs and he heard the words, "... never said yes." Book 1 - Chapter 13 He waited until Brytha was fast asleep to creep past her sleeping on Richan''s bed. It was good that she decided to stack the dinner plates neatly on a table near the door, if it was Nikolas he would have left it on the floor and no doubt trip and break them. The window was easy enough to open, and the dragon scale was warm in his hands as he waited for a response from Jozin or Surio. He''d haphazardly put on a coat, the nightgown would prove impossible to climb in after all. The night air was cold, and in the dark he could see the bobbing lights of the l¨§karka around their village. "Jozin?" he whispered again, more to reassure himself, because it was dark and he did not like the sight of the bird masks, even if he couldn''t see them. "Nikolas!" Jozin sounded cheerful, as he always did, "You know, my mother''s training a new girl, Milla. She''s very nice and she is very good with herbs and things she just knows¡ª" "What''s wrong?" Surio interrupted, brows furrowed, "What''s wrong Nikolas?" It must be light where they were, because Jozin''s hair was neatly braided and they weren''t in their nightclothes like Nikolas was. But he couldn''t find himself to say anything except look at their familiar faces. His hands were shaking so much he couldn''t quite hold his own scale steady and he put a hand to his mouth only to realize his lips were trembling. "It''s just the cold," he said, then swallowing again and again to find his voice, "Richan''s¡­ gone." Jozin blinked, wide eyed and confused, while Surio''s widened. He was the first to speak, and Nikolas could see his hand on the twin dragon scale, placed in consolation, "I am so sorry," said Surio. "Do you know if¡ª" Nikolas began, feeling his heart beat frantically, his fists clenching. Maybe there was hope, maybe there was something Jozin could do. Jozin shook his head. "You can''t bring someone back Nikolas. You don''t want to." Surio glanced at Jozin then at Nikolas, "If they want to return Nikolas that''s on them, not on you." "But he''d want to!" Nikolas exclaimed, "He wanted to do things and travel, and he said he''d met a witch and I know he wouldn''t have wanted¡ª" he rubbed furiously at his eyes, and hiccuped, "he was supposed to¡ª" The air was cold and it felt like needles were biting into his cheeks, and he furiously wiped away the tears. "A lot of people wanted to do things," Surio said softly, "but they didn''t. That''s just how it is sometimes. And they''re fine with it, because they don''t come back." He must have pulled the scale away from Jozin because now he could see Surio''s face more instead of Jozin''s. "But they have to choose to come back Nikolas, you can''t force them." "Would¡­" Nikolas wiped at his eyes, blew his nose on his sleeve, "would Richan come back?" "My parents didn''t," said Surio, and he nodded solemnly, "but if they did, I don''t know. But sometimes you don''t want people coming back because¡ª" he shook his head, running a hand through his hair, "well, most times they come back and accompany witches! You said your brother met a witch right? Did he ever tell you her name?" "No," said Nikolas, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes and sitting up in interest. Witches and their practices weren''t discussed in their household and this was news to him. Richan would come back and accompany a witch? Maybe the one he told him and Jozin about that night? Jozin poked Surio and moved the dragon scale closer to him. Surio jostled so that Nikolas could still see his face and said, in serious tones, "When did he meet the witch?" "It was a man! There''s not many of them, I''m sure we can help you, and maybe you can write to him and ask if he''s taken on a familiar." "Didn''t your mother say it was rude to ask for a witch''s familiar?" said Surio, "Like barging in while they''re having a bath¡ª" "There''s public baths," Jozin sniffed. "Yes, but you of all people should know witches aren''t all the same. Skapinian witches are normal compared to the ones we''ve seen your mother talk to!" Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. "What are familiars?" Nikolas interrupted, slamming one hand impatiently on the roof tiles. "They look like animals," said Surio, "but they talk like us, not like those red and green birds, just squawking and squawking. They sound like people but they''re not. Familiars are real people, but you''d have to talk to one for awhile¡ªOw!" he glared at Jozin, "Why did you do that?" "You shouldn''t go looking for familiars," Jozin said, nodding seriously, "Icfeld doesn''t like them¡ª" "Icfeld doesn''t like anything," said Surio rolling his eyes, "It''s all paper this and stamp that. They''ll probably stamp familiars as well! Hah! I''d like to see them try!" he chuckled. "They are trying," Jozin said and the mirth left Surio''s face. "Right¡­" Surio huffed out a breath. "You know you''re always welcomed in Skapina right? And we''ve got our ways to¡ª" "Shh!" "Right," Surio rolled his eyes, but there was an earnest look in his eyes when he continued, "Look Nikolas, when you''re older you can visit us and we''ll show you something. And I¡­ I know it''s horrible. I¡­ I miss my parents. They didn''t come to see me as familiars or anything. I don''t think they''d want to. Not that I''m bad but I don''t know, my parents would think it strange to return. They''re one of those people, live and die you know, and whatever comes next is whatever, not familiars and witches and magic. I¡­ I''m talking about me right? Me, me, me, sorry. It''s going to be bad but you know he left you with something. Last time I saw my parents I didn''t even say goodbye¡ª" He didn''t even say goodbye, Nikolas thought, and felt the tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh, I''m horrible at this, Jozin, it''s your turn just tell him something!" When Jozin was silent, Surio continued on, "But you''ve got your other siblings and you''ve got your parents still and I''m sure¡­ oh this is horrible. I will just say what Baba Zvetla told me to you. It feels like you''re drowning?" Nikolas nodded. "It feels like your chest hurts and you can''t breathe but you have to keep going. But you keep seeing the waves and you have to keep paddling or whatever swimming," he waved his arms, "that people do. But that''s fine. You''ll get used to it, the water will stop and you''ll find a boat and someone will pull you up and then they''ll let you on their boat and you''ll paddle with them and everything''ll be easier. You just have to ask someone to let you into their boat." He sounded like one of the books that Brytha read out loud, the ones with the fancier spines, the ones that were about love and romance and described flowers in detail, but they never really were talking about red roses. Nikolas would usually have the time for that, because it wasn''t numbers, but not now, "I don''t understand what you mean!" "You can talk to us!" Jozin said, "That''s what Surio meant, you just need to talk to someone." He pushed then gave Nikolas a tentative look, "Did it help?" "It did, a little," said Nikolas. But he was on the rooftops with a dragon scale and he didn''t need to climb down to the bedroom, the bedroom he shared with his brother and realise that¡­ he gulped. Richan was gone, really gone, not to his boarding school or not to visit a friend or not even to his new life... "I¡­ I should go." "You don''t have to!" "It''s late!" Surio and Jozin exchanged a glance, then Surio said, nodding earnestly, "If you do want to talk, you know where to find us!" He nearly slipped on the windowsill as he lowered himself down. A quick glance at Brytha''s bed and she was not there. In fact, she wasn''t anywhere in the bedroom. He frowned, then decided to get up on the roof. He had several guesses where she could have gone. He looked forward, carefully balancing as he crawled slowly, mindful of any loud noise he could make. Then when he was certain, he stood up, squinting into the darkness. From where he stood he could see a light in his father''s study, and he knew if he made his way closer he would be able to see if she was there. If she was sharing her plans with him, even as the Voeveda told her not to. "Where are we supposed to live, Brytha? This is your mother''s house. I can''t simply intrude on my family¡ª" His father was still dressed, but his clothes were in disarray, Nikolas could see what looked like wine stains on the sleeves. Brytha and Aldeim were both seated near a fire that had gone out, on the floor of all places, instead of on chairs. "You have run her household since you came here! We can just¡ª" "No, Brytha, I do not steal." "You truly do not wish to leave her? You said¡­" there was a tremble to Brytha''s voice, and Nikolas couldn''t see her face but her shoulders were shaking, "you said that you regretted ever¡ª" her voice broke, "do you regret us¡ª" "No! Never!" Nikolas felt relief coursing through him, and he suddenly very much wanted to be on the other side of the window with his father''s arms around him, like they were around Brytha''s Aldeim''s arms were around Brytha and her voice was muffled when she said, "But I heard¡ª" The next words were pitched so low that Nikolas struggled to make out the words, even as he risked pressing his ear closer to the glass, "I would never regret you." Brytha pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. This was an insult that at any other time she would be horrified by such behavior. Then she took Aldeim''s hands into hers and leaned closer, "We can do it, you know. I''m old enough to head a business, I know all our contacts and they all like me. You can help me but I am sure I can head one right now, tomorrow, if you want. Then you don''t have to stay here. We can go anywhere¡ª" He felt a pang of fear. Would his father leave with Brytha? She was his favorite now wasn''t she? Would he just leave everyone? His mother was away so many days of the year, who would care for them? Not Warada, she was the Cook, not their teacher and not Diase and not Aldeim. "You know very well your mother''s position¡ª" "I don''t care about her position!" "You should!" Aldeim visibly shuddered then said in much softer tones that Nikolas had to again strain his ears to hear. His hand was on Brytha''s cheek and the other was holding a handkerchief, wiping away her tears, "The pot is slowly boiling and she hasn''t realized it until now." "She still wants us to play make-believe," Brytha sniffed. "What, are we all going down to breakfast and play pretend?" "Yes." "Why?" His hand was on Brytha''s cheek, "I don''t want Ada or Felie to know any better, not¡­ not now, do you understand?" "Oh," Brytha''s shoulders shook again, "I forgot. I''m so sorry. I just¡ª" He had not seen his sister cry this much, Nikolas thought, and he did not like that at all. Brytha was supposed to come up with the plans and know what to say, not to tremble and cry. They were all supposed to be themselves! Not whatever this was! And Richan was... He wiped at his eyes again, and caught himself as his father and sister stood up. Aldeim motioned towards the study door and said with some finality, "It is a very long day, you should go to bed." Book 1 - Chapter 14 He didn''t remember Aldeim ever pulling the blankets over Brytha, whispering a goodnight to her. Brytha was above childish things, she told everyone as much when she kicked them out of her room. He heard her whisper something to his father, probably wishing him goodnight as well, Brytha would never ask for a bedtime story. Then he heard soft footfalls and Aldeim was in front of his bed. "Nikolas are you sleeping?" The covers were pulled over him again, and they were warm, too warm, after he silently roamed the roofs. Then there was a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried to make his breathing even, but it was hard to, not when Aldeim was running a hand through his head and not when the talk his father had with Brytha was still fresh in his mind. They might be moving. They could be moving, but where? And what about their mother? And he had never left this town and he didn''t want things to change, and what if Richan really did come back as a familiar and he visited with his witch but they both found the house empty? What then? And what about all the others, Felie would never leave without their mother, she was Diase''s favorite. Not to mention the twins would have to find brand new hiding places, and he didn''t think they would take it well. And for his other sisters¡­ well their classes would be starting soon and none of them would want to miss it. As for himself¡­ well, it didn''t matter because he wasn''t good at anything so who would care what class he missed? He jolted when a hand brushed past his cold feet. Aldeim signed, "If you must know there are times when eavesdropping works in your favor and when it doesn''t. Do you want some honeyed milk?" Nikolas opened his mouth to say he was too old for such things but he found himself nodding, "Yes. Please." "Brytha I trust you''ll stay in bed?" "Yes, Father," Brytha''s voice was muffled and tired. It was rare that he had time with just Aldeim. Even rarer that Aldeim held out a hand to him. His father led him to the kitchen, which was empty at this time of the night. It wasn''t as cleanly kept as he remembered. Warada must have been too busy to clean up after tonight''s meal. Aldeim sighed deeply, lighting a small fire on the stove and began rummaging for the milk. He even added spice to it, half a stick of the warm smelling spice only reserved for special occasions. Nikolas sat there uncomfortably on the wooden chair. It had only been yesterday was it, when Felie was so excited to be making the cookies for Richan¡­ It was supposed to be a special occasion! He knew there were flowers and fruit arrangements that would be coming, all made special for Richan''s party. He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. Aldeim gave him a look from where he stood, glanced at the pot and then made his way swiftly over, holding out a handkerchief. Where did his father even keep all these handkerchiefs? Aldeim never needed them. It had embroidered flowers on it, blue ones, and what looked like several grapes. "Give me a moment," said Aldeim, "and we''ll talk." It wasn''t a magical stove, so it took longer to heat the milk, and then whatever it was that Aldeim made for himself. Spiced wine, Nikolas guessed, they only drank that in the winter, and Aldeim didn''t add dry orange slices. It was too bitter and sweet for his taste, but last winter Richan had visited and he¡­ had loved it. There was a soft creak as Aldeim sat on the chair next to him, and Nikolas reached for the handkerchief to make a cursory wipe at his face. Then he blew on the mug, because the last thing he wanted was to burn his tongue. "You were eavesdropping, weren''t you?" Aldeim said, and it sounded like they were at his lessons for a moment, but when he met his father''s eyes it did not look like Aldeim was angry. There were too many emotions today that he couldn''t understand, even when they were expressed by the people he knew best. "Yes," he admitted. "Eavesdropping only works if you can also see someone''s face," Aldeim took a long drink, and placed the cup onto the table with a soft thud. Nikolas see the steam rising faintly from it and winced. "Then that would be spying," said Nikolas before he could stop himself. "Yes. Do you know why?" Aldeim didn''t want him to ask why, and he hesitated before saying, "You can¡­ see people''s faces and their¡­ emotions? Better? When you can see them?" Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. "You can tell many things from their tone as well," said Aldeim, "but it means nothing, Nikolas if you don''t see the whole picture. Someone can sound perfectly nice and calm while looking scared witless. If you only heard the conversation, you won''t put together the entire puzzle." He sounded like Surio when he was explaining what someone was supposed to feel when¡ª Nikolas sniffed and reached for the handkerchief. He took a drink from the cooling mug. It was sweet, exactly how he''d like it, and the cinnamon made swirling patterns on milk. Did witches ever do milk tea readings or did it have to be tea leaves? He shook the thought away from his head, and braced himself as he met his father''s eyes and said the question that he was certain Brytha must have asked as well. "Are you mad that I did?" he whispered softly, not meeting his father''s eyes. He wasn''t Brytha with her bravery and her straightforwardness. "No. You wanted answers to your questions. You found a solution." He felt a hand on his chin as Aldeim turned Nikolas''s head so the two of them could see eye to eye. Then he spoke, and his tone was very matter-of-factly, "What more do you want to know?" "What?" Nikolas blinked, the furious shouting match he''d overheard his parents coming back to mind with a jolt, "You''re not mad?" "You should always assume your conversations are heard unless proven otherwise," said Aldeim, and in a softer voice, "I am sorry if you heard the argument. I am¡­ beyond mad at your mother. I am¡­ very tired." He took a drink from his own mug and wiped at his face with his sleeve. There was a deep purple stain on it now, Nikolas observed, watching it spread across the fabric. He supposed everyone was not acting themselves today, Brytha with her sneaking out of bed and talking to his father and being perfectly fine with sleeping in a bed that wasn''t hers. Aldeim with his shouting at their mother and the lack of cleanliness that in any normal day he would scold Nikolas and his siblings for. "Does that mean we will leave, like Brytha said?" Aldeim raised an eyebrow, "You want to leave?" "I do!" I want to go to Skapina, Nikolas wanted to say but said in a whisper, reminded of his father''s words with Brytha and his conversation with Jozin and Surio, "Brytha said you might want to leave and I do want to but what if Richan returns and he can''t find us?" "Who told you that?" said Aldeim sharply. "Who told you he could return?" "I¡­ well¡­ not as magic but¡­ a familiar¡­ is it bad?" Nikolas stammered, taken aback. "The people your Mother consorts with are in the middle of thinking which magic is good and which one isn''t," Aldeim said, and there was something in his voice that begged Nikolas not to argue. "Familiars are one of them. They don''t like them, and they certainly do not like talking ones. Do you understand?" He took in a breath as well, and took a drink of his own. There was a soft clink as he placed his own drink on the wooden table. "Don''t ever speak of this again." Nikolas nodded, the milk felt sour in his mouth now, but he would do anything to have a conversation with his father. Just the two of them. "Yes, I understand." Then he placed his own cup down and hesitantly inched towards Aldeim. "I¡­ I miss him. I know, I know you love Richan and¡ª" Richan is¡­ was your favorite son, he thought and tasted the salty tang of tears. "Nikolas," he smelled the spice wine, and heard the scraping of wood on wood as Aldeim abandoned the chair to kneel next to him. He''d never seen his father''s this close before. Aldeim looked so much older now, there were lines and lines under his eyes, like the Voevoda from earlier and Nikolas didn''t want him to look that old! He was supposed to just sit there in his study and teach them, not look so¡­ defeated. "You know I love you as well, don''t you?" It was in such a low whisper that Nikolas thought he didn''t hear the words. "You do?" "Why? Did you not¡ª" "But I''m not... special! I''ve got no magic or math or music or¡ª" he waved his hand around the air before wiping at his eyes, "I''ve got nothing." He didn''t want to look up from the handkerchief he held in front of his face. Richan had been the talented one, Richan and Brytha and all the others and he was stuck in the middle just normal, just Nikolas. "Your namesake was very normal as well," said Aldeim and Nikolas found himself being pulled into his father''s arms. Aldeim had seated himself on the wooden floor again, which must be extremely cold. "Did you ever hear Brytha read about him? Did you remember?" "No." "Nikolas was a very normal¡ª" Here Nikolas gave an angry huff, of course he would be named after someone normal, someone ordinary. "There is nothing wrong with living an ordinary life!" said Aldeim, "Nikolas was a good man that helped people you know. He was a kind man that lend a hand to people. He didn''t have magic or birthright, he was just," and here Aldeim tapped Nikolas''s shoulder again, "a normal man." "You want me to just be normal?" he said, high-pitched, "I don''t want to be!" He wanted to be special like Richan, he wanted to have people like him for his talents like they did Brytha and he wanted to be charming as well. He wanted people to like him, not to struggle and struggle to find the right words and the right tone and the proper things to say. "You know on the day of my wedding," said Aldeim, there was a wistfulness to his voice, and he briefly closed his eyes before opening them again, "the ?rica turned to me and said that she wished I lived a long and ordinary life." He chuckled softly at the look Nikolas gave him, "Ordinary is sometimes good Nikolas. An ordinary person lives a good life and those around him remember him fondly." Then another laugh, but this time it wasn''t as warm, "She should''ve said that before I married such an ambitious woman." "Do you not like mother anymore?" said Nikolas in a very small voice. "Love is supposed to be a mutual thing, the same as trust," said Aldeim, "I trust you not to break into the kitchens and eat every sugared treat in here. You trust me to tell you what you ought to learn, don''t you?" At his nod, Aldeim continued, "Love is sort of like the same thing. You can only... only break so many promises before you don''t trust the person with your... ah, cookies. But you will just lock that door, wouldn''t you, and keep them away from it. When you have your own wife," Aldeim let out a long breath, "You''ll understand what I mean." "I don''t think I want a wife then," said Nikolas firmly, and Aldeim gave a startled bark of laughter. "We''ll see about that Nikolas," he said, chuckling and taking a final swig of wine. Book 1 - Chapter 15 Breakfast the next morning was the gloomiest it had ever been. Which was in contrast to the sun shining brightly outside. Brytha told him to wear his white tunic, with a black belt that she helped him put on. Hers was too short for her, and for once she didn''t seem to care. Everyone at the table wore white, even Ada who looked from one grim face to the other, a confused frown as she pulled at Felie and then Brytha''s sleeve. Felie shoved her away, leaning back on her chair and her eyes on the ceiling while Brytha simply hushed her. There were platefuls of bread and jam on the table, and a big steaming bowl of oatmeal ready to be served. But no one except Ada had served themselves. Aldeim, Nikolas swallowed, his father had a plate filled next to him, on an empty seat that was supposed to be Richan''s. The plate was filled and carefully arranged with Richan''s favorites and it stood out next to Aldeim''s empty plate. The empty chair itself stood out next to their filled ones. But it would always be Richan''s now¡­ And everyone was looking at it occasionally, it was there, looming like a snowlion''s shadow. No one wanted to talk about it, no one except Ada. "Where''s Richan?" she said softly, and then when no one answered, "Where. Is. Richan?" Richan was seated near enough to Aldeim to see him shudder, but a smile was on his face when he said to Ada, "Richan¡­ Richan will see us later." His clothing was immaculate, and the belt he wore was embossed with a hunting scene. It was from one of Richan''s favorite stories, Nikolas knew. The belt was a dark, dark brown, made from the pelt of a gryphon, and it was said that people couldn''t lie in its presence. That was the story Richan had liked, it was a hunter shooting down the gryphon to present it as a wedding gift to the Tsarina to be. Only she had been unfaithful, and the belt that he''d given her had strangled her while she sat on her gilded throne. Nikolas had remembered the story because he didn''t like it. The pale blue face of the strangled Tsarina on the pages looked too real to him, and the blood-red tears streaming down her eyes as she wept blood and guilt. It had kept him up for nights and nights until Richan promised that he wouldn''t ask for the story to be read again. Nikolas didn''t know that his father had a belt of the story, and he swallowed, thinking of the conversation Brytha had with his father last night. No, Aldeim wore the belt because it reminded him of Richan and Richan loved¡­ no had loved the story so this was why Aldeim was wearing the belt. He sniffed, and bit his lip. The last thing he wanted was to be scolded and sent back to his room No one liked a crier, especially not on this occasion. And he wasn''t even the youngest, they would expect Ada or Felie to cry but not him. He took in a breath and looked around the room. The twins were in white as well, and they weren''t whispering with each other, instead Diasa was fiddling with the napkin on her lap while Guigo was pulling at a thread on his sleeve and winding it around and around his fingers. Next to them was Viola and Sanna, who were talking to each other, but in hushed voices. The only one of the trio that didn''t talk was Lianne, who held a hand occasionally to her forehead. "But where is Richan?" Ada said plaintively, "Did he go to his party without us?" "No," Aldeim said softly, so softly only Nikolas could hear. Then he said it louder, "He hadn''t gone to any party Ada." Then he stood up, and strode towards the door to the dining room. "Diase, where are you?" he shouted and they all jumped. When there was no answer he took a step back, taking in a deep steadying breath and holding the frame of the door. "Father?" said Brytha, getting to her feet. "Father?" said Nikolas. "If she''s not coming, we will eat without her," Aldeim said with some finality. He made his way over to Ada and carefully picked her up, "Why don''t you sit with me, Ada?" Felie didn''t protest when Ada was taken to Aladeim''s seat, which was odd, but she was still staring at the ceiling, refusing to look at anyone. Maybe she was mad that Richan¡­ Nikolas let out a breath. He didn''t know what Brytha or his father or Warada told her. Maybe she tried to use magic and realized what Jozin and Surio told him. Sometimes witches or wizards stumble into things by accident. Or¡­ Nikolas dared to hope, maybe Felie saw Richan, maybe her magic allowed her to see Richan. He had to ask her, he had to know if she did see Richan. Did Richan, will Richan return as a familiar? It was Richan that met a witch and was offered an adventure, and Richan should have an adventure it was unfair that he¡ª Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. "Good morning." Everyone was wearing white except his mother who came through the door in her usual Voevoda uniform. There were lines under her face, and black circles, but she sat down as if nothing was wrong. Her uniform was even as crisp as ever, as if she''d ironed all the pieces herself. Nikolas didn''t look but he knew that if he did, he would find her boots to be as shiny as well, each buckle as shiny as the next. But even he knew it was wrong. She was supposed to wear white. Or gold, but gold was for the courts and the palaces and the Tsaritsa or when she was crowned, the Tsarina''s personal family. Why couldn''t she wear white like everyone was? Why couldn''t she do what everyone else was doing? Why did they have to play along while she was the one making all the rules, all the time? "Ada, please go back to your place," Diase said firmly. Aldeim ignored her. His brows were furrowed as he took a piece of bread, buttered it and held it out to Ada. It was normally her favorite but this time she shook her head and refused to eat it. It was so strange that Nikolas sat upright. Ada never rejected anything, especially when it was buttered. "Aldeim, you know how¡ª" Brytha quickly swooped in to take Ada away from Aldeim as his father slowly rose to his feet to stare at his mother. "Are you out of your mind?" Aldeim said, and his voice was cutting. He was as tall as Diase but now he towered over her in fury. "What possessed you to gallivant in that uniform?" "We should go," said Brytha, "Please, all of you, please follow me." There was a tinge of desperation in her voice, and she motioned for Nikolas to help her, and gestured to Felie who hadn''t stirred from her chair. He pushed past Viola and Sanna who was shaking Lianne to walk over to his sister. "Felie?" he said, shaking her shoulder gently, "Felie we have to go, I can carry you up¡ª" He froze. Felie, no matter the weather, always had a rosey look to her face. She should have been called Rose, his father had joked once, pinching Felie''s cheek and making her giggle. But she was an ashen pale color, and when Nikolas tentatively touched her, she was colder than a snow fall. "I don''t feel good," Felie muttered, rubbing her head. Her eyes were half closed, "It hurts." "Felie?" he whispered again, reaching for her hand, and frantically trying to warm it. Aldeim had done it when they had gone to the valley in the winter. He''d rubbed and rubbed Nikolas''s cold hands to warm them up, and then made honeyed milk. But as much as Nikolas tried to warm her, it did nothing, his sister was as cold as ice. He turned around to cry for help, to tell his parents that this was the wrong time to be shouting, that there was something wrong with Felie, she was so cold, and why was she so cold? But no one came to his aid. Many things happened at once, Felie began to fall and Nikolas threw himself forward to catch her. Brytha started to scream, followed by Sanna and Viola. There were the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor and thuds as things were being thrown about and the sounds of rattling, gasping breaths. "She''s not breathing!" Brytha was shouting, frightened and her eyes were wider than Nikolas had ever seen them, staring at the way Ada lay limply in her arms. Then he heard his father''s voice, shouting, "Ada! Ada!" He took Ada from Brytha''s arms and placed her on the floor, and tapping at her chest rhythmically. But Ada wasn''t the only one who needed help either. "Lianne!" Sanna and Viola screamed, "Lianne, Lianne!" Lianne was between the two of them, and she was exactly like Felie, cold and unresponsive and Brytha pushed the two of them aside to replicate what Aldeim was doing. He didn''t look at his mother because he knew that she was just standing there, like she always did when anyone asked her for help. So it was just him, glancing frantically around the room for help, struggling to hold Felie who had fallen from her feet, frightened and dazed. "Nikolas, step back," when Nikolas didn''t respond, Diase said louder, "Step back Nikolas!" He refused to let go of Felie, and his pushed him aside, cradling Felie to her chest all the while shouting her name. His sister''s head lolled to the side like a rag doll, her eyes were closed and her face grey, "Felie!" It was so loud he held both hands to his head. He was on his knees, scrambling away, running to any corner that wasn''t echoing with people screaming. It was as if he was even more of a stranger in his own household as everyone went mad. Everyone that is, except the twins who watched everything unfold with that same shared understanding that he was not privy to. Then Diase broke away from Guigo to walk towards him. "I''m glad it wasn''t you," she said softly, pulling him into a hug. He hugged back, and then felt Guigo joining them in the embrace. But she was wrong, he knew. It was Richan everyone loved. He caught a look of his father''s face as he peeked between the arms of the twins. There was a wild grief there, wilder than when Richan had... when Richan was gone. It should have been me, Nikolas thought, frightened at the look in those eyes as Aldeim frantically tried to breathe life into Ada''s chest. It should have been me, I''m the useless one in the family. I''m the talentless one and Richan was supposed to get married, and supposed to have a life, and Lianne had such talent for music and Felie was supposed to be the magic one and Ada... Ada didn''t even live yet! It was a horrible, horrible feeling and all he could think as he sat there, drowning in the overwhelming tide of grief and sorrow were the words of the old Voevada. He didn''t think much of it but now it sounded ominous and cold and exactly like the lines on her face, inevitable. ''So it begins.'' Was this all he was going to feel? Just... a drowning, sinking feeling? Just nothing? He tasted salt, felt his breath heaving in his chest as if a thousand anchors were trying to pull him under. Then as if from a very far away place he heard the voice of the Masteritsa and it said, as if singing a soothing lullaby, ''You are always welcomed to find your feet again in Skapina.'' Book 1 - Chapter 16 All Jozin wanted six months ago was to leave Skapina but now that he saw her, the snow capped towers rising over the mountains, the chill in the air and the swaying of the trees, he had to admit he missed home. It was the warmth of the caverns underneath the fortress, for Skapina wasn''t just a fortress, most of it lay buried underneath. Under the cold stones was a bustling city, and it was a warm city, for dragons forged it, and a dragon''s heart laid somewhere within Skapina. At least, that''s what the witches told him. He even missed the witches, even though they were a crotchety bunch. They had words for what they wanted him to do, how he should go about doing magic. No, more like, who and what he should do. Baba Zvetla had her say on how he should speak to the ravens, and Baba Zdena had her say on how he should feel for the hidden things under the earth. What hidden things, he didn''t know, because Baba Zvetla had then sent her flock of ravens, cawing angrily, after Baba Zdena and the other had shouted and flung dirt at her fellow witch before leaving in an angry huff. ''What is wrong with them?'' he had whispered to his mother, tugging at the hem of her tunic. She''d simply shaken her head and said that this was the way of things for the particular witches. ''They are just concerned about being replaced. The new witches would all be naming themselves soon and they are of the opinion that the new names do not go with the pattern they have cultivated.'' ''What do I have to do with all of it?'' ''They''d like you to take on a name like¡­ like Zina.'' She had given him a look that said she agreed it was a rather foolish idea. ''I am not a Zina,'' Jozin had scoffed. ''No, you are not,'' she agreed. Witches had a fondness for names he knew. But that was all he knew about it because he was not a naming witch, those witches were few and far in between. Baba Zvetla had told him that naming witches became so wrapped up in their own work that they bury themselves in the parchment of great names they''ve come up with and never talk to normal people. Which was why when one wanted to find a naming witch all one had to do was set her pile of parchment on fire, thus getting her attention. Baba Zvetla and her ravens had then cackled, and Jozin had decided the truth was somewhere in between. Certainly there was some magic to it, some magic that was passed down, for his mother was Mira and her witch teacher''s name was Misia. This was why she''d now taken on a new apprentice called Milla. Milla was a nice girl, with auburn hair she kept tied in two ribbons and a sunny smile. Finding her was part of the reason why they left Skapina in the first place, his mother thought that a change in scenery, and a nice trip would, as she put it, ''do him well''. It convinced his father at least, he hadn''t been fond of the idea of the two leaving, especially Jozin. ''You are too nice,'' his father had told him, shaking his head. ''These Icfeldians, they don''t live in the cold but there''s just something about them.'' ''I''ll keep him company!'' Surio had declared then. Surio did keep his word, but it was difficult at times. He was nice, Surio, Jozin appreciated his friend sharing the sweets he found and the little nooks and crannies that one can watch the Icfeldians and marvel at how odd their lives were without the magic that one normally could do. But he could be like a heavy blanket, comforting at times, but suffocating at others. He was suspicious of everyone, and Jozin knew the word, because some of the witches in Skapina acted the same when they first arrived. But why would he be? Nikolas was a perfectly good friend, if a bit odd and there was no need to treat him like he was one of the Icfeldians who were¡­ witch hunting. It was good that they found Milla, because that was what the Icfeldians were up to, witch hunting. They were taking witches and turning them into wizards, because wizards did magic just so and they were easily controlled, because all of them thought magic came from books and chanting things while the moon was full or not full. ''And you know who writes these books,'' his mother had said grimly to him, and it was one of those tones that he knew he shouldn''t repeat what he said to any Icfeldian he met. Now wasn''t the time to mull over Icfeld and its icy queen. Now was the time to turn excitedly to Milla and gesture out towards Skapina. "Isn''t she beautiful?" "Very¡­ cold," Milla said through clattering teeth. "Can''t you warm yourself with magic?" Surio groused. "It doesn''t work like that!" Milla scoffed and wrapped her cloak firmly around herself. "I''m not a wizard, what, do you think I just snap a finger and flames appear?" "I''ve seen Baba Fiane do it," said Surio. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "That''s different, that''s ?arina magic, of course they can do it!" The two of them were constantly at it, thought Jozin, always at each other''s throats for some reason he didn''t know. He liked Milla, she was always so happy, so excited to talk to him about anything in particular. She was so very good at doing things, even better than he was at times, and on the many evenings that it took for them to return to Skapina he sat and watched as she shaped a bow from a tree branch. "I''ll show you where all the witches are," Jozin said, "And maybe you''ll find someone who can teach you the snapping fingers, I''m sure there must be a ?arina in Skapina, why else would it be so warm?" He barely waited for the wagon to halt inside the fortress before he was off, hand in hand with Surio and Milla. He could hear Valdi shouting after him, no doubt telling him he should greet his father first, but his mother was home and he knew the two of them wanted to talk with each other after they''d been apart. They wanted privacy, and he''ll give it to them. "Come on, follow me!" The winding passageways of Skapina assembled and reassembled themselves as he pointed and he could feel it, the warmth, the beating heart and the life emulating from every stone crevice. As they rounded the corner he could hear it as well, the chatter and cacophony, the sounds of Skapinians. Then he smelled it, an earthly smell, like the soil after rain, the purple kanjas that were Skapina''s lifeblood. "Oh my," Milla said in awe, mouth open wide as she stared upwards at the ceiling which twinkled in purple from the glowing kanjas. To harvest them one needed either a tall ladder, many helpful ravens, or the ability to fly. Sometimes Jozin had seen a more creative witch go about harvesting the kanjas but most just pay Baba Zvetla to do it for them. "They''re not stars you fool," said Surio. "Are we done? We should go back Jozin?" "Hey, I wanted to show Milla Skapina!" Jozin said irritably, pulling away from Surio to grin widely at Milla, "What do you think?" "It''s so beautiful!" she clapped her hands delightedly. "I''ll show you something better," he promised, and took her hand. Surio scowled and pulled Jozin the other way, knocking the three of them into a witch. The basket came tumbling from the witch''s hands, spilling the purple glimmers on the ground. "Sorry miss!" Jozin had rushed to apologize, trying to gather the mushrooms into her basket. Surio and Milla were quick to follow his example, no child wanted to anger a witch. "Well, aren''t thou a kind soul," said the witch, adjusting her hat. She spoke in a strangely accented tongue, her almond shaped eyes and jet black hair standing out among the witches he''d seen in Skapina. Her robes, to Jozin''s eyes, looked like a patchwork of different materials, all stitched together in a glowing script. It was probably why she was underground, if she''d been outside she''d probably freeze. "We''re sorry," said Jozin with Surio and Milla echoing him, "We didn''t mean to drop your mushrooms." The witch stared at them, then gave a soft laugh, "T''s not ev''ry day one sees a young witch, and a polite one too," she smiled, showing black teeth, "Wouldst thou and thy cater-cousins liketh thy f''rtunes toldeth?" He didn''t understand why she stressed the word witch, but perhaps she was a foreign witch and wherever she came from they had a different word. Such were things, sometimes a witch in one place was called something else in another place. He turned to Surio, and half expected him to frown at this offer. But to Jozin''s surprise Surio nodded excitedly. "Yes, please," said Milla, breathlessly, starry-eyed. "Cometh this way," said the witch, leading them to an alley that was designated for the foreign witches whenever they visited. It was designated because depending on the region in question the witches would alter the alley to suit their tastes. It smelled strange the witches'' alley, oddly colored smoke would sometimes drift from the alley, and odd shrieks and chitters would be heard from time to time. The tents and caravans from what they could see of the alleyway looked more intimidating than welcoming. The three of them hesitated at the entrance, and the witch seemed to realized this because she smiled, "W''rry not, thou wonneth''t stepeth in far." She motioned them towards a tent only three steps away, and pulling up the flap, disappeared in it. "I''m going to go," Surio said, determinedly, following her. Milla grabbed Jozin''s hand and squeezed it, "Come on, Jozin, I want to hear my for-tune!" Inside the witch''s tent was an assortment of plants, weapons and a handful of cages holding strange animals. One Jozin thought was a snake, though he''d never seen one with such colorful scales. "Come, come," said the witch, motioning them to sit on three cushions in the tent. She took up a seat opposite of them, looking at them expectantly. "Well, shouldst the eldest wend first?" she said. "I am." said Surio. "I seeth," said the witch, turning her eyes on him. "Thou wilt excuse me f''r not giving a f''rtune which rhymes. I wast toldeth by mine own sist''rs h''re people liketh f''rtune which rhymeth, but I wilt confesseth I am not fluent in this tongue to doth so." The witch paused, closing her eyes, and humming. Her palms were outstretched, and she made a series of signs in front of Surio''s face. When her eyes opened, they were no longer brown, but a very pale blue. "One questioneth thou may asketh of me, and one questioneth I shall answ''r," she said. Surio nodded, gulping visibly, "Would I be a great warrior?" he said. "A most wondrous arch''r thou shall beest, nay targeteth thou shall misseth, yet thy hair shall nev''r grizzled, and thy boweth nev''r breaketh." The witch turned to Milla, "And what of thee sweet daught''r? What wouldst thou asketh?" Milla looked troubled, but smiled bravely and asked, "Would I live in a big house when I grow up?" "A most wondrous house thou shall beest, and through glass stairs thou shall walketh to receiveth th''re." said the witch. The pale blue eyes turned to him then, "What of thou then? What would thou asketh?" What did he want to ask of a witch? There was always a catch to a witch''s fortune, every child knew, which was why both Milla and Surio didn''t ask for more details than necessary. Though the fortune, as simple as they''d asked, had answers with both joy and sorrow. He bit his lip. "Would you care to dine in my halls?" he asked. At this question, the witch blinked. Her eyes, which were pale blue, suddenly switched to its dark brown. She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head in what Jozin thought was bemusement. "Well," the witch said, "well, I would bethink thou art too young to beest a host." There was a pause, "may I taketh up thy invitation another evening? Thou would knoweth me," the witch leaned forwards, brushing her lips against his ear, "Mine own sisters calleth me Hana." Hana smiled, sitting back on her cushion, "T''wast a pleasure meeting thee." A great mist circled them, and when Jozin opened his eyes, all three of them were above ground, facing the door to Jozin''s house. "That was very odd." said Surio, "Witches. I never understood them." Book 2 - Friendship There was shouting coming from the study. Nikolas paused, half-way between putting a sock on his foot. It wasn''t because of anything he did was it? Though he knew from experience that Brytha was always snappish while bookkeeping, and she always did her bookkeeping in the early hours of the morning. Something about the fresh air made it better, she had told him, on one of the rare days that he sat with her. She didn''t like anyone being in the room with her when she did her sums, especially if Nikolas. He frowned, and strained his ears, but no, Brytha was not yelling his name and he breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was her ire directed his way this early in the morning. Then buckling on his shoes and making his way to his bedroom door, he listened closer. It wasn''t any names of the merchants, but he didn''t expect it to be. Brytha never shouted at the merchants, no she only reserved taking the gloves off for family and close friends. It meant that she cared. At least that was what he kept telling himself. But he should see what was going on anyway, his name wasn''t called but it would not be wise to keep Brytha waiting. He knew that he was useless to her, what with his inability, no matter how hard he tried, to remember the sums and how to do them. It wasn''t that he was incapable of mathematics, if she read out the numbers and account names to him, then he could do fine, but that was just a waste of her time and patience. The latter was what Brytha did not have these days. Even if he couldn''t make out all the bills piling up on her desk, a pile of unpaid or yet to be paid bills was not a good thing. The bills were all for his siblings, so it wasn''t as if Brytha could smile and make excuses for not paying. The ones that had been troubling Brytha of late was Guigo and Diase. The twins needed money for their boarding school, and the two of them were so close to graduating that they needed all the help their family could give them, even if their tuition was ludicrously expensive. Brytha had complained privately to their father that all the wizards wanted was to chase the latest creation and put them in their collection. She had more words to say as well but stopped herself, breathing in deeply. Nikolas suspected it was because he was in the room, but he couldn''t quite understand why she wouldn''t tell him what it was, who would he talk to about her views on magic and wizards? Nikolas wasn''t a gossip. But she wasn''t done, Brytha had sat down on her chair, taken up the piles of paper and going through them one by one with an angry glare. ''Do they actually do magic?'' she had demanded, slamming the piles of tuition bills on the table. Her hair had flown out from the neat bun and she''d scowled, reaching for the pins she kept on the ready. So it had been one of those days, and Nikolas had decided to make himself scarce. He had seen a pile of papers and had trying to make himself busy by shuffling papers in the corner. She was kind enough to mark it in little symbols so he could help her organize without having to read anything. A sort of code, he would have been appreciative if she hadn''t taken several hours explaining how the whole system worked. In his armchair by the corner, Aldeim had shrugged a shoulder, ''And they''ve already committed to being wizards. If you wouldn''t tell Sanna and Viola to stop then you shouldn''t tell Guigo and Diase to.'' Sanna and Viola were set on being musicians and being musicians, they needed tutors and lessons and fancy instruments. Then they also needed to find the right spouses and that meant setting them up with the right Mastachka. Brytha seemed more inclined to help them. ''I can hear them getting better,'' she had retorted, ''what can I even ask Guigo and Diase to do for me? They can''t even come back home until they''ve taken their new names, so I can''t even address a proper letter to them! It''s acolyte this or wizard that or whatever in those stuffy academies. They don''t even use their names!'' He had wondered what names Guigo and Diase would chose, surely Diase would keep hers, she was named after their mother, and surely that meant something? But what did he know of wizards and their arcane rituals. He didn''t even know what it was that Jozin did, and Jozin was a witch. But then again witches weren''t like wizards they didn''t go to the academies and they didn''t share their practices that openly. Nikolas had been certain that even witch names were different from wizard one. Witches didn''t change their names that often, or Jozin would have told him about it. Unless Jozin had thought he didn''t deserve to know, and that was foolish because Jozin was his friend and didn''t friends tell each other the important things in life? He had been so lost in thought he didn''t notice his father was speaking. ''¡ªIt is their choice and we have to respect it,'' Aldeim had said simply. He had returned to counting and making notations, ignoring the fuming Brytha entirely. She couldn''t do much more for that was that, his father had the last word in the house, even if Brytha ran the business these days, as was the right thing to do. Nikolas wasn''t sure if that was better or worse that his father was now officially head of the house. His mother had been absent, but now she was gone entirely. And he wasn''t sure if he liked the man that stepped up to her pedestal. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Brytha had done good on her word, she''d waited until the¡­ he swallowed, the burials were over. Then she had taken Aldeim''s hand and pressed the paperwork into them. The resulting scene¡­ Well, Nikolas was sure whatever love existed between his parents died that day. No one looked as cold as Aldeim did. Especially when Aldeim had asked the children in turn, in front of Diase if they wanted to stay with their mother, or go with him and Brytha. As it turned out, when one didn''t have a relationship with one''s children, it didn''t matter if one was their mother. Out of all his siblings, Nikolas was the only one who wrote to Diase. It was a long and laborious process, because each word was a struggle and he didn''t even know what to say to someone he had not seen in years. So it was good that he only sent them on holidays, and everyone knew what you had to write in letters on the holidays. The letters that came back he carefully hid from the rest of the family, because his mother was a buried topic these days. It was as buried as the rest of his siblings. Though it wasn''t as if Aldeim completely forgot about them, that would be wrong. His father still wore the same belt from all those years ago. They had a dining room in their new house as well, much smaller compared to his childhood home, but it was enough to have chairs for all of Aldeim''s children. The chairs were kept clean and the places in front of them were empty, except for their birthdays when Aldeim would place flowers and sweetcakes in front of their empty seat. Peonies for Richan, and a red berry cake, purple lilies for Lianne, and spiced sweetroll, tulips for Felie and cookies shaped like animals, a daisy crown for Ada and cakes slathered with honey. And as many bottles of wine for Aldeim as could be procured for that day. Everyone knew to keep away. It was only Nikolas that came afterwards to put the empty bottles in a corner and try to help Aldeim to his bedroom. He couldn''t bring himself to look through the door and see the forlorn figure with the empty bottles, the dead fire and the empty chairs in front of him. He knew he wasn''t Aldeim''s favorite, and his father had tried so many times to help Nikolas find something that he was good at. He had offered to look and in many cases searched for any number of trades that he knew for Nikolas. The problem was the ones he deemed worthy for his son needed precisely the skill Nikolas was lacking. It made a horrible sinking feeling in his throat, the day he realized that he knew there were meanings behind letters but he could not understand them. Not as they were written, in the curving script that his sister used in her formal letters to the merchants, or in the shorthand of her lodger. He could understand books if they were carefully printed letter for letter. But that was for teaching children, and Nikolas was not a child. He was possibly good at sketching and painting, the one time he tried his hand at it, but Aldelm had scoffed at that, telling him that painters and penniless were two words that go hand in hand. All in all, Nikolas felt like a spectator in his siblings'' very accomplished lives. He took a deep breath before knocking on the study door. Brytha was there, as was Aldeim and the two of them looked up when he creaked open the door. "Is something the matter?" Nikolas said tentatively. "She''s written," Brytha said, and gestured towards the letter as if it personally offended her. She could be anyone, so he waited for Brytha to continue. "Your mother was told of our money problems," his father said, rubbing his temples, "I don''t know how, but she must have her ways. She offered to help with money and I told her no, so she offered to help you." "With what?" Nikolas said faintly. Brytha scowled, "She wanted you to go to Prebovna. I don''t know what for, but she said you should show one of the Voevada this," here she gestured to what looked like a gold coin lying on the table. "I told her to not send any money and she sent a coin," Aldeim muttered. He sat down with a thud on the nearby seat and was rubbing at his temples again. "You could tell her to take it back," Brytha suggested. "Prebovna would maybe give Nikolas the chance he needs," said Aldeim, "I can''t just tell her to take it back Brytha, even if I wanted to." "Will you send her a response at least?" "If Nikolas shows up to Prebovna with the con, that''s good enough," said Aldeim. He was quiet after that, and stood up, striding over to the window and staring into the distance. There was just snow there, and tracks from the chimneys, maybe a curious squirrel or bird, but that was all. Nikolas knew because he''d stood there many times. Sometimes he''d even glance down, hoping that it was Jozin coming for a visit. But that was a foolish dream, Jozin had responsibilities now, and besides, the roads were restricted in the winter. And didn''t Jozin say that it was always winter in Skapina. Nikolas waited until Aldeim turned back to face them. He couldn''t read the expression on his father''s face. He gestured towards the coin and Brytha nodded for him to pick it up. The coin was heavy in his hand, heavier than he''d expected for such a small thing. It had the Tsarina''s face on it, staring serenely at him, her crown on her head and a kindly smile on her wrinkled face. It was the old Tsarina, not the old one, and he could make out his mother''s name at the bottom of the coin. So it was one of those special tokens from before, for the new Tsarina, it was said, never smiled. The new Tsarina was crowned while... he swallowed. There was a reason why whispers surrounded the legitimacy of her throne. She was crowned in blood, Tsarina Belena. Book 2 - Chapter 2 "Do you want to go?" said Aldeim, he stepped forward to Nikolas, and placed his hand on his shoulder, meeting Nikolas''s grey eyes with his own very serious ones, "Prebovna is very far away." He thought of the long days staring at words that crawled over his eyes like ants and stayed in his head like a bug bite and decided he would take up his mother''s offer. What else could he do in his father''s house? He didn''t want to be a burden to Brytha, didn''t want his sister to tolerate his clumsy presence because they were family. Pity was the last thing he wanted, that and irritation. Maybe this was what he needed all along, a push to go live his life, and of all the people in the world, his mother was the one that would give him such an opportunity. "Yes," he nodded firmly, his heart beating furiously in his chest. There was a loud buzzing in his ear as well, and he knew it must be excitement, "Yes." Brytha looked unconvinced, but she was Brytha and she was always unconvinced. "Are you sure, Nikolas? Are you very certain? Prebovna¡­ wait! I have some contacts in Prebovna!" She scrambled to her feet, towards the bookcases full of notes and came back rummaging through one. "Hm¡­" she stared at the words, scanning the page with one finger before looking up, "You must look for a Mastachka Faila!" "I''m not going to be learning music," Nikolas began, internally resigning himself to being spied upon. "No, Nikolas, she has a scribe, and I am sure you would want to send us letters won''t you?" she set down the parchment to clasp his hands, "You will, won''t you?" It was not an order from her, which was unusual, so he decided that he really ought to take Brytha seriously. This was like pulling teeth, asking Brytha to plead with anyone to do anything. She was a throwing orders and being obeyed kind of woman not a begging or pleading one. "I¡­ I suppose I will," said Nikolas. "How do I find her?" "Oh," said Brytha suddenly at a loss for words. "She has a caravan with a harp and silver lantern painted on the side of it," said Aldeim, suddenly speaking up, and there was a soft fondness to his voice when he continued, "and she has two daughters, Ainnar and Maera." He wasn''t certain why the names meant anything, but there was a certain cadence to Aldeim''s voice that felt like it should. Perhaps it sounded like his home town Nikolas thought, but he had never been to Elford or wherever it was that Aldeim was from. He felt a twinge of guilt for never asking, but... perhaps he could ask the Mastachka. It sounded like Aldeim knew her more than he let on, from the way he''d said her name. "There are plenty of caravans but I am sure asking for a Mastachka Faila with her daughters Ainnar and Maera would narrow it down considerably," said Aldeim. "How did you remember their names?" Brytha demanded. "It was interesting talking to her," said Aldeim evenly. "I did have a life before I married, didn''t I?" The two of them froze, but Aldeim just gave a shrug and a smile, so Nikolas supposed it was a jest rather than drunken regrets or morose reflection, which was Aldeim''s usual reactions when reminded of his marriage. "I think I''m ready to go," Nikolas nodded, puffing up his chest, "I think Prebovna would be a great place." "All the confidence of youth," Brytha muttered. To both of their surprise, again, Aldeim laughed, "Brytha, are you not one?" "I was never one!" she sniffed, crossing both her arms in disgust to both of their amusement. After he agreed, everything moved very fast, because Brytha was extremely efficient when she wanted things to be done. He wanted to be irritated that it would seem that she wanted him out of the house, but she took her time sitting down and drawing precise directions to him in the capital. "They have signs there you know as well as letters," Brytha explained patiently, carefully drawing down little symbols on a small notebook she bound together for him. "You just need to look for this one when you need a physician, this one when you need to buy bread, though I suppose you''ll smell it first, but avoid at all costs this one!" Here she pointed at a needle and thread. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. "Why?" Nikolas said, puzzled, staring at the needle and thread and wondering what hidden meaning one could have behind it. "Is that not a seamstress?" "They don''t have seamstresses in Prebovna!" Brytha sounded affronted, and there were two red splotches on her cheeks. She refused to explain more, and busied herself packing Nikolas a small traveling bag. He''d thought Viola and Sanna would have forgotten, but they came to his room to wish him farewell, each giving him several silver coins when Brytha''s back was turned. "You must come back married!" Viola exclaimed to Brytha''s disgust. "They have so many noble ladies there I''m sure someone will look your way," Sanna cooed, arranging Nikolas''s reddish hair with his abandoned comb. "You just have to look nice!" "Smell nice as well, don''t forget that!" Viola added firmly. She took the comb away from Sanna and tucked it into Nikolas''s pouch. "Did you pack spare clothes as well? And towels, you must have at least one!" She did not like the towel she found and rushed to look through Nikolas''s drawers to find a suitable piece of cloth. Nikolas rolled his eyes but decided she did have a point. A clean and healthy complexion opened more doors than a slovenly one after all. "Comb my hair and bathe, thank you, I would have forgotten," Nikolas said dryly. But it was a warm feeling he felt in his chest. That was until Aldeim walked in and his sisters made themselves scarce. "Father," said Nikolas, looking around the empty room before meeting his father''s eyes. Aldeim glanced at the closed door and knocked at it. He waited until the scruffling of his eavesdropping sisters faded and then turned to Nikolas. "There are many people in Prebovna," Aldeim began, twisting his hands together, "many people, in an everlasting horse race. Some of them are the betters, some of them are the crowd, some of them are riding horses¡­ some of them are the horses." He did not like how this conversation was going. Aldeim was speaking in those riddles again and he wished for a time when Aldeim would just tell him to be more careful when he was eavesdropping and what he could learn from eavesdropping. Nikolas startled when Aldeim tapped his shoulder and made him meet his eyes. "Do not be the racehorse, do you understand? If you ever find yourself in that position, my house will be open to you." "I¡­ understand?" Nikolas said uncertainly. It sounded ominous but he couldn''t understand why. Of course Aldeim would welcome Nikolas back home, he wasn''t his mother, Aldeim would probably burn the house down before inviting her back to live with them. Aldeim sighed deeply, closing his eyes. Then when he opened them he said, "At least write, please. I would like to hear that you are making your way through life." A pause, "Even if you make mistakes." He made to reach for Nikolas''s shoulder but then paused, stopped himself and Nikolas thought for a moment that he would walk away, but instead Aldeim embraced him. "Good luck," Aldeim whispered hoarsely. The gesture and strange show of affection put him in such a daze that by the time he properly pulled himself of it was already standing in front of a merchant, with the woman reassuring Brytha that she would help Nikolas find this Mastachka Faila before leaving him with her. Then he had bid farewell to his father and sisters and climbed into the wagon, his heart in his chest. He didn''t think that this was where he''d be last year. Then he let a relieved grin split his face. He was seventeen and headed towards Prebovna. No, more precisely, he was seventeen, in a merchant''s wagon headed towards Prebovna, a bag of his possessions slung over one shoulder, the coins his sisters had given him tucked in his right boot and the dragon scale secured firmly in his left boot. Nikolas bit back a gleeful laugh before taking in a deep breath and puling his mother''s coin from a pocket sewn into his tunic. He held it firmly in his hand, turning the coin over and over in his palm as the wagon jostled and the horse whinnied and the merchants cursed the wretched roads and weather. It was winter, so the windows of the wagon were securely closed, but even in the wagon he could feel the wind raging outside. He rubbed at his right boot. At least the scale gave off some warmth. He hadn''t talked to Jozin in a while. It was just Jozin now, not Surio, Jozin told him Surio had gone off to patrol the many mountains they had in Skapina. Which was a relief the other boy had been snappish and irritable of late. Jozin had always apologized for him, or given apologetic looks behind Surio''s head which bothered Nikolas to no end. Even he wouldn''t apologize on his siblings'' behalf, why would Jozin do it for a boy who clearly should learn to do so on his own? But he didn''t say it because it was clear that Jozin missed Surio''s company, and wasn''t that a mystery, why Jozin liked Surio''s company in the first place. ''He is a very good archer now,'' Jozin had looked very proud, tucking a strand of silvery blond hair behind his ear. He''d taken to wearing very pale colors, accented with blue and the whole effect was very flattering on him, Nikolas had thought. Perhaps some witch seamstress made it as well, to fit Jozin''s eyes and smile. He is very handsome, Nikolas had concluded. He was certain that if Jozin wanted to impress the Masteritsas and Voevadas as a husband he would be able to do so. He was also certain he could impress their sons as a bride as well. That is, if Jozin wore his hair a certain way and posed in a certain light. He could look like a very pretty girl. But that was the wrong thing to say to Jozin because he remembered quite clearly their conversation as children and besides, Jozin never wore his hair that way or acted that way so clearly his stance had not changed. It was good to hear from him nonetheless. He had been happy for Nikolas to leave Aldeim''s household. But he had not been happy when Nikolas said he would be headed to Prebovna. ''You have to be careful!'' Jozin had exclaimed, eyes wide, ''Very!'' ''Yes, Father,'' Nikolas had said, letting out an exasperated breath. ''No, I am serious! They aren''t the same in Prevobna, they''re very¡­'' He had paused for so long, playing with a strand of his hair that all Nikolas wanted was to either tuck it or tie it back for him. ''Fixed on winning things, on getting things. Getting people, like a collection,'' he had said finally and he sounded so much like Aldeim that Nikolas wanted to point that out to him. But he didn''t because that would be repeating a joke and no one liked that, ''I''ll be very careful,'' he had promised. He would keep the promise, he always kept his promise even if he wasn''t quite clear what it was that Aldeim and Jozin wanted him to be careful about. Why couldn''t they use words to describe people? Liars, cheats and scoundrels would be so much easier to understand than horse races or winning and collecting things. ''They don''t like this kind of magic either,'' Jozin had said suddenly, sitting up and looking serious. ''Don''t talk with this scale unless you really have to. I don''t want you to get in trouble.'' ''I suppose I can send you a letter,'' Nikolas had joked and both of them laughed. ''If you must,'' Jozin had said, smiling. ''I hope Prebovna has what you''re looking for.'' ''I do too,'' he had returned the smile, ''good night.'' ''Good night.'' Book 2 - Chapter 3 They made camp for the night close enough to the road but secluded behind some snow covered trees. There was a small frozen creek nearby, which could serve as a source of water. But Brytha had cautioned him against it, telling him it was better to drink cider or wine while one is traveling. She had warned him about indigestion, upset stomachs, and possible death. The last one he hoped it was added just for emphasis but he wasn''t risking a drink just to prove Brytha wrong. The merchant busied herself making her own meal, and everyone separated into their own groups. It would be strange to stay in the caravan so he hesitantly made his way over to the merchant woman and offered to help her start a fire. "That''s kind of ye," said the woman, "I''m Sanice." She was bundled up in her winter furs, so it was hard to make out her face, but she sounded pleasant enough. She did pull off her glove when she held out her hand to Nikolas "Sanice," Nikolas nodded, taking the hand she offered to him, "Pleased to meet you." The hand was calloused from the reins, and she wore a ring on her hand, no doubt her signet ring. So Brytha did send him off with a reputable merchant, he thought, but then reprimanded himself for doubting his sister. Brytha could be many things but she did not sabotage her siblings. She was above such lowly things. He smiled politely at Sanice and she gestured for him to sit down with her. But she didn''t travel alone, no that would be foolish of a merchant to do so. There were two other merchant women with Sanice, and they quickly started a conversation that reminded him too much of his time with Brytha in her study. He half expected them to take out quills and books and start asking him questions about his sister''s acquisitions and mergers on the spot. "Would you like some food?" Sanice said, gesturing towards the small pot bubbling merrily on the fire. Nikolas shook his head, gesturing towards his pack and hoping that his sisters did pack him something. This earned him a hearty chuckle from her. "Look, boy, if you''re hungry all you need to do is ask. I will take offense if you help yourself afterwards." Then she gave him a kindly smile that reminded him of their old cook Warada. Warada had left years ago, presumably, Nikolas heard, to go back home. But he knew what the other maids whispered that she was a witch and it was to keep their family out of trouble. They were no longer under the protection of Nikolas''s mother after all. He didn''t believe them, Warada didn''t do witch magic, she did the little magics that made her cooking all the more nicer and he missed coming into the kitchen and seeing her busy at her work. She was the only person that he could talk to about Felie. But she was gone now, and he hoped that wherever she was, she could make her cakes and sit back to bask in the praise that her eager family would no doubt give her. On the day she''d left, she''d knocked on Nikolas''s door and given him a final present. Warada had given him a sad, fond smile before pressing a wrapped package into his hands. ''They are very hard, so don''t eat them, but I can''t bring to throw them away.'' Nikolas had carefully unwrapped them to see the cookies that Felie had made with Warada so many years ago. There was a sheen on them, like amber, and he could make out the small fingerprints and the lopsided raisins. He could almost smell the butter, hear the laughter of Ada and Felie as they threw flour at each other. ''Thank you, Warada.'' The older woman had embraced him, before hefting her bundle of possessions over one shoulder and making her way laboriously down the stairs. He had rushed to the window and seen Aldeim and Warada embraced before she got into a rickety wagon and waved for the driver that she was ready to go. "Are you going to eat it or not?" "Oh? Sorry, Sanice, I was thinking," Nikolas began. He hesitantly took her offer of two bread rolls and dried meat to go with them. Then he looked towards her guards, six Rytsars seated by their own fire. They were very young Rytsars, they couldn''t be much older than Nikolas. Their conversations, therefore, wouldn''t be that hard to follow. Perhaps they might also tell him where he ought to go in Prebovna. There must be something for him there, it couldn''t be that Prebovna had no use for someone like him. He was... no he wasn''t clever, but he was adaptable. That was right, he was capable and he would now go over, introduce himself and ask the men what they were talking about. "Please excuse me, Sanice," he said, inclining his head to each merchant in turn and making his way over to the Rytsars. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. As he walked away he heard them talking, in the way one does when one didn''t care for eavesdroppers. "That boy won''t last a day in Prebovna," it was said rather flippantly and Nikolas felt his stomach churn in his throat. "Brytha put him forward, I''m sure he''ll manage fine," that was Sanice, and she sounded matter of fact. He knew that she had no affection or allegiance to him but Nikolas let out a relieved breath nonetheless. She was talking about Brytha, and Brytha could be harsh when she wanted to be. But in this case she must have been kind with her words. Unless Sanice meant something else? He shook his head to clear it and then approached the group of Rytsars. His bag clinked softly as he moved, and peering carefully inside he noticed that there were two bottles wrapped protectively in his shirts. Cider, he guessed, wine would be very expensive and a wine stain would no doubt be hard to get out of a white shirt. He let out a relieved breath, reminding himself to thank his sisters in the letter he would eventually write home. Or more likely, ask someone to write for him. But for now though, he practiced a grin and settled on a less manic one. For now a bribe would work when his skills wouldn''t. Nikolas took another deep breath before walking up and sitting down next to a Rytsar with the friendliest face. "Good evening," said Nikolas evenly. He smiled again, and crossed his legs nervously, "I''m Nikolas." He popped open the bottle and held it out to the man, and then around in the circle, a peace offering. "Thank you," said the Rytsar, a delighted grin coming to his face. "Nikolas was it? I''m Tino." He''d pulled the scarf down his face to eat and the edges of it was fluttering in the wind. His accent was of the south, and he was sandy haired and tawny, possibly freckled if there was enough sun in the summer. Tino took a swig and passed the bottle around to the other men, who chimed in with their names so fast Nikolas couldn''t catch them all. "Where are you going?" Tino asked, conversationally, breaking bits of his bread and dipping it into the wooden bowl balanced precariously in front of him. "To Prebovna," said Nikolas, willing himself to calm down. He needed to watch his words here, he needed to not look too eager. No one liked giving advice to someone who looked desperate. No one ever helped a beggar. "Seeking your fortunes huh?" said Tino, nodding his head sagely. "Don''t take any offers from Voevada Laberts, whatever she offers isn''t worth it, right boys?" The other Rytsars all nodded grimly. One spat on the ground next to him for emphasis. "How so?" This was a rather rare show of disgust. He hadn''t heard of Voevada Laberts, but then again, he hadn''t spoken to his mother in years. Tino glanced over his shoulder, as if to confirm that Sanice and the other merchants were not listening or paying attention before leaning in to say to Nikolas, in very conspiratorial tones, "She''s a witch." "Oh?" Maybe Jozin knew her. That was a rather dangerous trade, being a witch in the city of Prebovna. "She''s in the Tsarina''s favor," Tino continued. "So no witch hunter''s knocking on her door. I know they want to though, they haven''t had a good hunt in months. Last I heard those poor bastards were commiserating with the seamstresses." He chuckled, "They were thrown out ''cause they got no coin. Broke, the lot of them. But we all know they''re miserable fucks, all of them, don''t we boys?" Nods of agreements followed his statement. Timo crossed his arms and declared firmly, "No one goes witch hunting willingly." "Not as a trade?" Nikolas suggested. The bread and meat tasted suddenly very dry and sour in his mouth. He hadn''t thought much about witch hunting, and he hadn''t asked Jozin what it was that he was doing these days. Jozin seemed more interested in asking what Nikolas was doing and Nikolas humored him. On the occasion that Nikolas had asked Jozin had simply pulled out a book and started reading him a story. It was nice hearing his voice, sometimes Jozin would change pitch depending on the character, so Nikolas never wanted to ask him something that Jozin had made clear he didn''t want to elaborate on. "Hm," Tino nodded. He looked as if he wanted to say more but then shook his head. Nikolas looked over his shoulder to see that Sanice was approaching. The snow crunched under her feet, breaking the silence that fell over the Rytsars. It was the look on her face that made Nikolas pause. She looked too grim for it to be a simple telling off. "There''s something out there," Sanice said, and she held a crossbow in her hands. This garnered immediate reaction from the Rytsars, they all got to their feet, reaching for their swords and pikes. There were two wagons, placed side by side, but Nikolas, looking back, could see that the two other merchants were busy arranging them to form a makeshift half-wall so they would be facing whatever came at them. He swallowed nervously, reaching for his belt and wishing that Brytha did tell him what to do if strange things happened at night. The locket he wore around his neck, the gift his mother gave to all her children upon their births suddenly felt warm. It had never felt like this before, except the day Jozin''s mother had touched it. Even with Nikolas''s limited knowledge of magic, he knew this was not a good sign. "Get behind me," said Sanice, motioning furiously for Nikolas to retreat. He rushed behind her and saw the other merchant women approaching. They had weapons as well, magical weapons, Nikolas noted. The crossbows they held out had wizard runes carved on them. No doubt the bolts that they were loading were also enchanted, and as they walked past him to stand by Sanice, he saw that he was right. There were glowing blue runes on the bolts. Then he heard it, a murmur at first, which sounded like the wind rustling through dead leaves on a cold autumn. Then it became louder and louder, like locusts on a warm summer night. "What in Goddess¡ª" Sanice began. What in Goddess indeed. The creatures that came from the trees were not¡­ not animals. Nikolas knew that for sure. They had¡­ he had to swallow bile, they had no fur or feathers he could recognize. Snakeskin, he thought wildly, that was the closest he could think of. But snakes did not walk on two legs. Then one of them opened their mouths and let out that horrifyingly silent scream. "OUT!" Sanice shouted, pushing Nikolas towards the wagon and rushing to jump onto the driver''s seat, "OUT, OUT, WE ARE LEAVING!" Book 2 - Chapter 4 There was a mad scramble towards the wagon, the Rytsars all running for wagons nearest to them, the two other merchants jostling for the reins. The horses were oddly calm, all things considered, but when Sanice spurred them on with the reins and her frantic shout they quickly began to canter. He knew he should close the wagon windows and doors and banish the sight of the creatures but there was something about them. Something familiar but not, and it terrified him, because he had never seen such abominations. So ignoring the protests of the Rytsars behind him he opened the window and leaned out, squinting into the darkness, a lantern in his hand. They could not run fast, the creatures, they were shuffling, sightless and directionless. A chill ran down his spine as he heard the sound again, clearly, and it was a voiceless scream, terror and madness. Then he felt it, the warmth of his mother''s necklace. It was on instinct that he pulled it out and as he did so he saw a flicker of light. Then a stream of it began pouring out, and it spiralled, breaking into a million small dots like fireflies, careening towards the creatures. One by one the light touched them and one by one, as if many candles were being blown out, the murmuring stopped. He felt the blood froze in his veins at what he saw next. They were not monsters, or abominations came forth from the light. He could see the figures of people, a farmer and her scythe, a man holding his child, a blacksmith and his hammer, a merchant and with her lodger, a guard with his pike, a physician and her pestle, and¡­ here he swallowed harshly, a girl holding a basket. They turned their sightless eyes upon him and the little girl waved. Then she took the hand of the physician, who curtseyed at him, and the two of them faded away. And with that, like a trickle of water before it became a tide, the rest of them did as well. They, the people that once was, waved, bowed and curtseyed to him as one by one they left the earthly realm. "What was that?" Nikolas startled and turned to meet the wide eyes of Tino. "What did you do?" He glanced over at the Rytsars, still cowering, lowered his voice and said, "Talk to me later." Nikolas had no intention of doing so. He fumbled for the necklace. It was no longer warm, and looked, to his untrained eye, like a necklace. It had his birthday on it, and his father''s and mother''s name. But that was it. How had it done something like this? Then he thought of the Masteritsa, and how she had touched it when she visited so many years ago. Was this witch magic? Did Jozin know that his mother could do such things? Would he be able to tell Nikolas what those¡­ What happened to the people? It was not natural, what had been done to them. He shuddered, remembering the reptilian skin and the sightless eyes and the mouths that could not scream. What horror came upon those men and women and¡­ he swallowed harshly, children? And why was his gut screaming that he had seen this all before? He was not one for nightmares or wild stories or witchcraft and wizardry. He strained his head, trying to sieve through his memories for something, anything that could lead him to such a conclusion. He came up with nothing. Perhaps he was too stupid to think, he was never as clever as his siblings. Brytha would have drawn out a map, a time map, and would have determined precisely when this memory would have occurred. The twins would have simply asked each other. His musician sisters would have simply remembered a song they had listened to or played during this time and it would just occur to them. Richan¡­ He froze. "Hey, hey." Someone was gently shaking him, and he shook his head to find Tino giving him a concerned look. The most concerned look possible, Tino looked vaguely constipated. "Are you alright?" Tino held out a waterskin to him, and Nikolas could smell the wine within. "Yes, yes, I am," Nikolas insisted, waving the wine away. That was the last thing he needed at the moment, wine to dull his senses and memory. "They''re mostly asleep now," Tino continued in a soft whisper, "You mind telling me what witch magic you''ve got there?" He gave a chuckle, "Don''t worry I won''t tell anyone." "It''s not witch magic!" "Listen, Nikolas, any Rytsar with sense carries around some witch token. The wizards are an extremely stringy bunch and don''t serve anyone but the royal courts. If you want protection, you go ask a witch," here he reached into his own pouch and pulled out a small carving tied to a string. "This is mine, see?" Nikolas narrowed his eyes. The carving was of a heron, with a particularly long, spiked beak, and it looked normal enough to him. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. "I can''t swim," said Tino, tapping the heron''s wing with his hand, "and this here fellow had been protecting me." "I don''t believe you." "I''m not jumping into any frozen rivers for you to see." That was a fair point but it wasn''t good enough to confess any of his secrets to a stranger nor was it to believe that a wooden heron could save Tino from drowning, "You said witch hunters look for people but you carry a witch token with you," Nikolas muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Now you expect me to believe you?" "I thought I made it clear I disapprove?" "No." "Fine," Tino glanced again at the sleeping Rystars and Sanice. She had switched places with the Rytsar and was now mumbling in her sleep. They both watched as she tossed and turned before Tino motioned for Nikolas to follow him to the furthest side of the wagon. "I can talk more tomorrow. I''ll show you what my witch token can do as well, but it''s not something you''d believe easily." "What is it?" "It''s a heron right?" said Tino, "So it fixes small things, a stitch here, a strip of leather there." Nikolas barely held back his snort of disbelief. Not that he didn''t believe something like that could be done, but that Tino thought it was decent proof that his wooden bird did magic. "What, are you going to cut open your sleeve and then this bird will just fix it on the spot? A likely story," said Nikolas. "As likely as your pendant was to do¡­ whatever it did to those¡­" Tino looked as lost for words as Nikolas. He swallowed, clenched his fist, and continued, voice steady, "People." "You saw them as well?" "I have eyes, don''t I?" Tino gestured with two fingers towards his eyes, "That wasn''t natural, whatever that was." "Magic?" "No, no," Tino shook his head. "That''s not normal magic. The witches don''t do these kinds of magic." "How do you know?" Nikolas narrowed his eyes. "The same as you know it''s safe to put on that necklace of yours!" Tino hissed back. "A witch gave it to you didn''t she?" "My mother gave it to me and she wasn''t a witch!" He wasn''t about to tell on his connection to Skapina. "Then she sure paid a witch to put a spell on it. Because that isn''t wizardry, they don''t do those things!" They stared at each other, a stalemate, before Nikolas remarked, keeping his voice steady, "You know a lot about magic for a Rytsar," he stared at the sleeping Sanice, felt for his pouch and pulled out the bottle of good wine. "Would you like to share?" He held it out to Tino, half-hoping the other boy wouldn''t take it because it was a fine vintage and he might need it for later. But that was the only show of trust he could think of at the moment. "Keep it," said Tino, eyeing the wine and gesturing for Nikolas to wrap it up and put it back into his bag, "keep it for someone else. You''ll need plenty of bribes in Prebovna." This was advice freely given, thought Nikolas. "I didn''t mean to doubt you," he said honestly. "I have never met anyone who knew of witches and my father told me to not ask about them." It was always good to mix a lie and a truth. He still wasn''t sure what to make of Tino. Aldeim''s voice came to him, and the advice he''d given him along with the farewell. Nikolas paused, casting a look at Tino, then at the sleeping Rytsars and Sanice his mind flying madly like the seeds of a puff flower. What kind of person is he at horse races? He wasn''t sure, Tino had given him advice, so that was good, but he was clearly paranoid that Sanice would overhear. So was it the merchant women that Nikolas should be concerned about? He stored the thought away, it was useless to think too much on it while he was supposed to be holding conversation with Tino. But the other boy didn''t seem remotely disturbed, perhaps he thought Nikolas might be homesick. "Of course he did," Tino agreed, taking the water skin and drinking the wine inside. "Good man. You shouldn''t go asking for witches." "Not in Prebovna?" He tried to keep his tone light but the part of him that eavesdropped at doors wanted to know if this also applied to Skapina. Jozin hadn''t said anything, but he felt a nagging worry nonetheless. Surely the witch hunters had not come to Skapina. He had only recently talked to Jozin, the dragon scale mirror wouldn''t show him a falsehood would it? Or was it capable of summoning whoever it was he wanted to talk to and giving him a vision of himself talking to them? Tino made a sympathetic noise in his throat, and awkwardly scooted closer. "Look, Nikolas," said Tino, placing a hand on Nikolas''s shoulder. "If you don''t go asking for trouble, trouble won''t find you." The gesture felt familiar, and the cadence of it, the warmth of Tino''s arm around him... it felt so familiar. Where had he... Nikolas clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palm. It was the last time he had seen Richan, and he''d caught a glimpse of Richan''s face before a sheet was pulled over it. What had it looked like... like someone distorted his brother''s face, like taking a paint brush and swirling it over a still wet canvas. Then he thought of the faceless men and women and with a sinking feeling it all came together like the links to an unfinished chain. It was not a normal sickness that took Richan, Lianne, Felie and little Ada. It was too sudden, too quick, and too... unnatural. No one dared say it in Aldeim''s house and they didn''t talk about it among themselves. Brytha had buried herself setting up the new business and running it. His two remaining sisters had clung to each other and their music. But Diasa, Diasa had poured over books and books, she and Guigo both, the twins searching for some meaning that Nikolas didn''t know. They had refused to tell him, and taken their secrets with them when they entered the academy as promising wizards. He might be the talentless on in the family but he was not a complete fool, Nikolas thought. He knew what Diasa and Guigo were looking for now, and wondered if they''d set themselves on a fool''s errand. There was no earthly way the wizards would ever teach or write about the unnatural magics that led to his family''s deaths. Unless... and here he scrambled towards the window and vomited, because it was a frightful and heinous thing, possibly blasphemous as well. But he could not banish it from his mind. The wizards could not have been behind the sickness that took his siblings would they? They could not have been the ones that condemned the people would they? They were under the Tsarina, and why would she ever do such a thing to her own people? Book 2 - Chapter 5 He couldn''t sleep. Any time he closed his eyes he could see them, the faceless people, and he couldn''t even take solace that whatever magic the Masteritsa had put onto it had given them the peace they were looking for. No, he thought, a shudder running through his body, they were screaming. The spell gave them mercy. Then a more horrible thought came to him, and flickers of memory came rushing back. Richan''s marred face, the way Felie had seized in his arms, Aldeim frantically trying to resuscitate Ada, his sister''s frantic screams and how his mother had pushed him away to cradle Felie helplessly to her chest. She wasn''t responsible for this was she? She never talked about the things she did with the previous Tsarina, would this be what she did? Is this why Aldeim was so beyond fury at her? No, she wouldn''t do that, she wouldn''t do such terrible magic on her own family, on her own children! But¡­ but the Masteritsa had said something to her? She had said something before whisking Jozin away as soon as she could. What did she say? He searched and searched his mind, tapping his temples and then his knee like he would do when Aldeim asked him a particularly hard problem. But he couldn''t remember. All he could recall was that his mother had been cold and quiet, and the Masteritsa¡­ What was her tone? Had she been upset? No, he remembered, no, the one that had been upset was Jozin, and specifically when his mother told him they would be leaving soon. Then Tino''s words came to him. It was witch magic, Tino said, witch magic on his mother''s necklace. Diase would never do witch magic but the Masteritsa¡­ the Masterisa would, wouldn''t she? He took out the necklace from under his shirt and swung it back and forth, back and forth and watched the light of the lantern dance across its metal surface. Maybe he could ask Jozin if he remembered, he thought, and then let out a sigh, for he wasn''t alone. If they hadn''t fled in a rush he would have snuck into the wagons and talked to Jozin, but then they wouldn''t have seen those¡­ those things. No, he shook his head, they were¡­ they had been people and they were not things. Even if they had been thrown away by whatever wizard like they were. Was Brytha right about wizards then? Did Diasa and Guigo waste their time at that academy for nothing? But he shouldn''t think those things because it could very well be reflected on him. He was useless to Brytha when he was doing sums and numbers wasn''t he? And he was equally useless to Aldeim as well. Maybe if Richan had lived¡­ he took in a deep shuddering breath and blinked away the tears. Maybe if he''d lived and married Nikolas would have come to live with him. Richan would have found something for him to do. Unless, of course, Nikolas was equally as useless in Richan''s household. "Did you know you think very loudly?" Nikolas jumped, and gave what he knew was a very embarrassed squeak. He fumbled for the lantern and looked into the very amused eyes of Sanice. "First time seeing unnatural things eh?" said Sanice, conversationally, as she made her way to him, stepping over the snoring forms of the Rystars. "And now your life flashes before your eyes and you are really thinking over things aren''t you?" "No, no," he shook his head firmly. But the woman seemed friendly and not at all upset that he was wasting lantern oil by staying away. "How did you know my sister?" "Brytha made quite a name for herself," said Sanice in that matter-of-fact voice. "She is young and scrappy and she has good instincts for business. And I don''t begrudge youth, sometimes old merchants are set in their ways and while it works in some cases the world''s opening up to much more than listening to the guidance of some shut in." "Did she speak much about me?" Sanice gave a chuckle at that, "Not much, but then again, merchants don''t talk much about family on principle. Didn''t you know that, boy?" Nikolas flushed, but it was not a reprimand so he asked, for future knowledge, "May I ask why?" "You can sway a merchant''s decision through their family, presents and such. Sometimes the husband does the suggestions for you," she pulled out a pipe and began filling it with tobacco. "Open the window will you?" He nodded and they both moved towards the now open window. There was a soft snick-snap of flint and then a soft greenish yellow smoke came out of her pipe. "I don''t talk to anyone," he said, disappointed that he wasn''t sure what Brytha said about him to her merchant friends. Did she not want him to find a wife? Wasn''t that how Richan¡­ he banished the thought away from his head. She held out the pipe to him, an offering and he shook his head, "It''s yours, I don''t want to intrude." It must have been a very funny statement he said, for she laughed. "If you''re going to Prebovna, you''ll eventually find yourself reaching for a pipe." Then taking her pipe into her mouth she let out a contented sigh. "Hm, but you never know," said Sanice. "It''s a hard life, a merchant''s. You''re always on the road and sometimes all that you have is your gut feeling." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. He seized the opportunity, "How do you know when to run?" Sanice coughed, then coughed again before giving him a wry smile, "You meant to ask why I told you all to run?" "I know¡ª" Nikolas began. "Look, I know you boys are all about your fists and your pikes or whatever improvised weapon you''ve got on hand. But when you see something that isn''t natural and doesn''t bleed, you best get it into your head to run." "Thank you for the advice," Nikolas said honestly. "But¡­ I mean, how did you know?" "Were you not afraid of them?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "I was!" Nikolas nodded. But they had weapons, surely¡­ no Sanice was right. He didn''t think the weapons would do much against whatever it was they were facing. "Men," said Sanice with another huff of her pipe. "Listen, Nikolas, I''ll tell you this because you''re going into a snake''s den and it''s always nice to have a refresher. I told my children this and I suppose I owe it to your sister to tell you as well." She blew out several rings and then said, "Have you ever seen a deer walk willingly into a snowlion''s cave?" "No?" Again speaking in riddles, he wished people would just tell him what exactly it was they wanted from him. Like Jozin, he thought, then changed his mind, sometimes Jozin spoke strange things as well. "Right, but you''ll often see some poor lad or lass just brazenly walk into a carriage, happy as a clam even though their faces are ashen pale and they''ve clearly eaten spoiled shellfish," said Sanice. "I don''t know what you mean," said Nikolas, "I wouldn''t walk into any carriage." Especially not if his gut was telling him not to, which is what he thought Sanice was trying to say. "Spoken like someone who''d never needed money," said Sanice. "Listen, Nikolas, in Prebovna fortunes come and fortunes go. Someone will make you an offer you cannot refuse. In that case, I''d want you to think whether you are walking into a snowlion''s den or not. If a deer has the wits not to, then I would assume Brytha''s brother would do the same. Understood?" He nodded. Even though he never liked riddles there was an easy friendliness to Sanice that he found comforting. Almost like Surio, whenever he wanted to be friendly. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked hesitantly and when she nodded he swallowed his nerves and continued, "Are there many witch hunters in Prebovna?" He clenched his fists to stop himself from reaching for the necklace. "There are witch hunters everywhere boy," said Sanice. "But the problem isn''t witch hunters." She took a slow breath this time from her pipe, and let the smoke rings drift from her mouth. "You see, no one wants to be a witch hunter willingly. You see, it is rather hard to go about proving someone is really a witch." "I thought witches were born?" Nikolas said, frowning. He thought of Jozin and his mother and Diase and Felie and how magic seemed to pass through mothers. At least, witch magic seemed to, but having witch magic didn''t make you a witch. It had been explained to him by Jozin once, a long time ago but perhaps he should ask him again. "Right, but to the first point Nikolas. No one becomes a witch hunter willingly. It''s all accusations here, shackles there, and then bursting into your neighbor''s house yonder. No one likes that kind of person, and no one wants to be that kind of person unless one is entirely desperate for money." "Right," Nikolas nodded, even though he could not understand why one would accuse someone else of being a witch. "The second point being, everyone uses some witch token or another. I don''t," here she gave a sly wink, "but who''s to say? So this enterprising witch hunter will go around pointing at all kinds of nonsense. Eventually they''ll hit upon something, no doubt about that, but you see my point? Best not go around advertising you''ve got a witch token on you." At this she gave a glance up and down his general person and he took it that he knew she had something on him. "Right," he said, uncertainly. "It''s not a bad time in Prebovna is it?" "It''s always a bad time in Prebovna for someone," said Sanice, and there was a pensive note to her voice. That statement would not stand in Prebovna, Nikolas knew. Everyone knew that the Tsarina kept her people fed and happy. Or, at least, everyone knew that it was the right thing to say. "Thank you for the advice," he said honestly. Then, deciding he ought to ask a a final question as well, "Do you know where I can find a scribe? To write letters? I am¡ª" he took in a steadying breath. Sanice saved him from a confession, "You''ll have to be careful with the scribe you choose." She took another puff from her pipe, "Information is a commodity you know, and some scribes make some money under the table, so to say, by passing on things." "I don''t like talking in code," Nikolas blurted out, unable to hide his dismay. "You''d best go about learning it then, everyone in Prebovna does it. It''s not some village you''ll be going to Nikolas, it''s Prebovna." The smoke rings, together with the light of the lantern with them illuminated her face in ominous shadow, "The biggest den of gamblers and thieves in all of Icfeld." "You shouldn''t say that!" Nikolas said, startled and wide-eyed. "Oh?" Sanice leaned in and, to his surprise, winked, "Who will you tell about it then, Nikolas? Or are you a liar as well?" There was something like a challenge in her eyes, like how Aldeim would pause in his lecture and look towards Nikolas, and then he would be jolted out of his thoughts to answer a particularly difficult question. "Sometimes it is good to lie," he decided to say. Which was the truth, and said nothing about him as a person as well. "Hm. Well, I suppose you wouldn''t be too badly off in Prebovna," Sanice remarked. "You asked about codes? I''ll let you in on a secret." She smiled conspiratorially, "People do not like remembering boring letters. Whatever trade you decide to take, tell the scribe to write it. No one likes..." she paused, hummed a little under her breath and suggested, "a boring guide on when to plant flowers and which seeds suits best for which weather." "I don''t know how to garden." She looked him up and down again and to his surprise, winked, "Oh you don''t need to know how to garden, there''s another type of letter no one really likes to read." "What?" he leaned in eagerly. She laughed again, "Oh, poor boy," she patted his back, "I hope you get a chance to send a love letter very soon. But in the meantime," she grinned, "just know the more sickly sweet you sound when you''re dictating, the less likely it is that unfortunate scribe will wish to commit it to memory." Book 2 - Chapter 6 He needed to keep a running list of what he should do when he reached Prebovna. First he had to find Faila and her troupe. Then he had to find a scribe. Faila might know one but he didn''t know Faila and what if the scribe went and told her the contents of his letters? It was fine advice Senice gave him but he wasn''t certain if he was comfortable sending his sister a fake love letter. How boring could he make his life anyway? He could¡­ He frowned, he could talk about her business, and use the wrong terms deliberately. Or perhaps music instruments, and the little music notes that floated up and down the page? She would know what it meant right, Brytha was the smartest one in the family. He''d opened the door to the wagon, and there were steps that could be extended to help one up the wagon. The steps also served as a seat, which is what he did now, balanced precariously as the wagon jostled and rumbled. They must have crossed into a better part of Icfeld now, because the roads were smoother and better maintained. It was still dark outside, but the sun was over the horizon. Some of the Rytsars were stirring behind him, no doubt he would be asked to move soon so the men could march along the wagon. But until then¡­ Nikolas let himself drift away in thought. What else¡­ he needed to talk to Jozin. They''ve danced around the topic of him going to Skapina, but surely in Prebovna there must be a merchant or two that might go Jozin''s way? Perhaps they might even take a package¡­ with a present and a letter. Surio had been good on his word and sent cookies. They had been delivered by the oddest looking bird Nikolas had ever seen, it had both feathers and fur, and the face of a particularly grumpy looking cat. When it saw Nikolas, Nikolas swore it had rolled its eyes before thumping its paw on his dresser, indicating towards the package. Then before Nikolas could do anything more it turned its back to him, squeezing its way out of the window. The snap closed behind the creature with a click, leaving Nikolas opened mouth in awe. He had rushed towards the window, but all he could catch a glimpse of was the flutter of wings as the cat-bird took to air. The next time Nikolas saw Jozin and Surio he''d smiled and thanked the other boy. ''Lanua did an errand for you?'' Jozin had demanded, whirling upon Surio with wide eyes. ''How?'' Sometimes he had been able to see bits and pieces of the room they were in. This one had been some sort of study, he had made out a towering bookshelf, though the books were all on the floor and what filled the shelves were a collection of bits and pieces. He had seen a skull of some deer, a giant claw, some glassware and framed pictures. It had made for a chaotic picture, and he half-expected the reason why the books were on the floor was because Jozin and Surio had been throwing them at each other. Or would throw them, from experience, he had been able to tell just by the way they stood facing each other, like they were about to spar. ''I can ask nicely, you know!'' Surio had nodded, arms crossed. ''And I did!'' ''Who is Lanua?'' Nikolas had demanded, stepping in. They had been standing in front of a massive shelf after all and the last thing he wanted was for the shelf to come toppling down. ''She lives in Skapina and she doesn''t even listen to me!'' Jozin had exclaimed, ''How did you even get her to go all the way Bifeld?'' ''I told you!'' Surio had thrown up his hands, ''I asked nicely! Why don''t you believe me?'' ''Thank you for the cookies, they were really good!'' Nikolas had interjected desperately hoping to stop their imminent quarrel. That had the effect he wanted, they both stopped glaring at each other to look at him. Jozin plastered a smile onto his face, Nikolas knew it was fake because it took him longer than that to genuinely smile while Surio simply looked relieved. ''I''m glad you liked them,'' he had said, nodding behind Jozin''s back. Perhaps he should put on his list to ask Jozin how Surio was? No, he could simply ask in person, Surio was his friend as well as Jozin and it would be odd to simply ask about a friend when Surio might well be with Jozin the next time they talked. He wished he had someone to talk to like Jozin did Surio. It was lonely growing up with Brytha who was busy and Guigo and Diasa who had each other and his sisters who also had each other. He could make friends, he knew but Bifeld was a small town and set in their ways. Everyone had welcomed Aldeim back home but just because an old member was welcomed back doesn''t mean that their family members could meld seamlessly into the community. Especially a new member who never even seemed to fit in with his own family. "What''s with the long face?" It was Tino, he could tell from the sound of his voice, "What''s wrong with my face?" "Did Sanice tell you off?" said Tino, "Don''t worry she tells everyone off on the first day. She likes to give us her advice and such. You don''t have to take anything she gives you, merchants do like giving green boys a scare and all." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Nikolas gave a non-committal nod, but made sure to add a smile so it was certain he didn''t mean any malice. Now in the light of the rising sun he could see Tino more clearly. The other boy was definitely older than Nikolas, though not by much, and Nikolas wasn''t sure if he could ask. There were certain people that took offense to being asked, he knew, because Viola had been scolded by Aldeim for speculating on her tutor''s age. So it was probably best not to ask. Tino had taken off the heavy scarf and furs he was wearing in the night, but he kept on the thick woolen tunics and socks. "Did you have breakfast?" Tino continued. He sat down next to Nikolas and let his feet dangled over the edge of the wagon. "Oi, Tino, stop talking with the new boy, we got work to do!" Tino eyed the Rysar poking at his back with an impatient finger, "I''ll move whenever I want to move." But he did stand up and give a friendly push to the Rytsar, "Off you go marching now little Rystar boy!" The Rytsar gave several rude gestures in Tino''s general direction. Tino merely chuckled and stuck out his tongue. Then he gave a bemused Nikolas a confused look. "Don''t you have any brothers?" It was a friendly question, he knew, but something about it made his stomach churned. How many brothers did he have? One? Two? How does one go about answering this question. "Yes, but¡­" He began, looking at anywhere but at Tino''s face. He knew people would come to the realization soon enough, and give him pitying looks. He knew because it was the same look that they gave Aldeim, and the nights after many of these glances and gestures Aldeim could be found drinking. "Ah," Tino looked solemn, "Sorry I asked. Plenty of folks around here have that, you know, you''re in good company." "I did have a brother," Nikolas blurted out, and it felt nice to do so, "Richan." He let the name roll around his tongue some more before saying again, just to know he could say the name had been real, "Richan." "Good name," Tino nodded, patting Nikolas''s back. "You want to share some breakfast? You should save yours for when we get to Prebovna, just in case." "Just in case?" Nikolas frowned, "What do you mean?" "It''s winter, Nikolas, there''s always people going hungry in the winter," said Tino. "Especially in Prebovna." He trailed off, staring at the frozen trees passing by the wagon. They both jumped, clutching at the wagon for support at the voice that boomed behind them, "What are we saying about Prebovna?" "Everything is lovely there, I was telling Nikolas that!" Tino said, smiling woodenly. "That''s right!" Sanice was busy putting on her furs, reaching for her belt and pouch. She pulled her hat firmly upon her head and wrapped her scarf around her face, "Don''t let anyone tell you otherwise. Prebovna is a shining city upon the sea. Or the mountains. It all depends on your perspective!" She winked at Nikolas with her last words, before making her way to the front of the wagon and telling the Rytsars there to rest, she could drive now. "I don''t know what to make of her," Nikolas whispered to Tino. "Ah, that''s not on her though, that''s everyone in Prebovna," said Tino. At Nikolas''s puzzled frown he continued, "You know witch hunters right? There''s clever ones that go even further and put down little spells here and there that trigger when a witch''s talking." "That doesn''t make sense, anyone can talk about empty stores and larders in Prebovna," said Nikolas. "Yes, but you see, only a witch would think to do anything about it." Nikolas stared at Tino, who gave an embarrassed chuckle, "Right, right, don''t tell anyone I said that. Please." "Is that..." he wanted to play this game too, he wanted Tino to tell him what he ought to do in Prebovna, how he ought to go making his name and not being an absolute failure. "Is that a thing a witch would say?" Then he had to grin at the flabbergasted look Tino gave him, "No!" A contemplative pause, then Tino said, begrudgingly, "You know what, you might be right. We might come to Prebovna and they''ll make it so that just saying only a witch would think it would summon the witch hunters to your door." "Are they that efficient?" Nikolas mused. "Only when they want to be," said Tino, rolling his eyes. But he gave Nikolas a very serious look, "Don''t bring too much attention to yourself, Nikolas." "I''ll make sure not to," Nikolas said, and climbed back into the wagon. He reached a hand to help Tino in as well. When the other boy was steady on his feet, he padded over to where he had put his pack and pulled out his rations. It was a hard cake, shaped into a log with raisins and nuts. Nikolas never liked biting into one, but it kept well and it was a specialty in Bifeld. It must be Viola that packed it for him, she was the one that liked it in the family and he felt a twang of homesickness. She would be sitting at the dining table now, trying to sneak in more slices before her lessons would start. Perhaps Tino would like some as well? He wasn''t sure if Tino liked raisins but everyone in Brytha''s ledger liked them, they were a popular item she imported. "Would you like some?" Nikolas suggested, holding out the log and taking a knife onto his hand. "I don''t know if you like raisins but it''s just¡ª" "Oh, I would love some!" Tino''s eyes were very wide, "I have not had fresh grapes in so long, you don''t even know how much I miss them!" "Do they taste different from wine?" Nikolas suggested. He carefully cut two slices out of the log and offered the bigger of the two to Tino. The older boy shook his head and insisted Nikolas take the bigger half. "No, I can always return home and they''ll have food waiting for me," Nikolas said, "You were the one that was missing grapes." That was all the prompting Tino needed to take the slice for himself. He bit into it, made several noise of appreciation before swallowing and said, wiping his mouth and liking his fingers, "You know, you''re a very nice boy Nikolas." It usually came with something else, Nikolas waited for the knife to fall. "But you shouldn''t be so willing to share food, alright? I am telling you this," here Tino leaned in and smiled. He smelled like raisins and sugar, "as a friend." "Don''t be too generous with food in Prebovna, got it," said Nikolas. He frowned, "Can I say that?" "Of course, that is a very acceptable thing to say!" Tino nodded, clapping Nikolas on the back. Prebovna, Nikolas thought, was a very odd and strange place. He suddenly felt a strong urge to return home, where at least he could try to understand his sister''s ledgers. Book 2 - Chapter 7 He had heard of Prebovna being massive. His father had told him about how he''d travelled there for his wedding to his mother. But that particular memory was foggy, because Aldeim never talked about his life with Diase if he could help it. Diase never spoke of her work in Prebovna, and remained tight-lipped even when Felie had begged for her to tell stories about the capital. His eldest sister Brytha had shown him the long lists of merchants and guilds that she wanted to visit should she ever come to Prebovna. The merchants there had such huge caravans, she had gushed, they were so massive that they needed to hire an entire room of scribes to manage their business. Or businesses, she had amended, looking very starry eyed. Nikolas didn''t know what Guigo and Diasa thought of Prebovna because the twins reacted with indifference at traveling. Viola and Sanna though, he knew what they thought of it. His two sisters had spoken of dresses and instruments made out of gold, of food piled on platters as high as one can look up. But none of their words could prepare him for the city that rose out of the ground, spirals upon spirals of color, red and gold, blue and whit, and green and¡­ orange. It would look gaudy, but for some reason the combinations worked. "You should close your mouth before the flies start flying in," said Tino cheerfully from where he was marching along with the rest of the Rytsar. There are no flies in the winter, Nikolas thought dismissively. "What are those towers for?" He pointed to the tall sloping domes, from afar it looked like jewels but he knew it must be some sort of glass. "Don''t know," said Tino, shrugging his pike to his other shoulder. "I''m not the type to be tithing enough to enter." He was seated next to Brytha, and Nikolas peered over the woman''s shoulder to look out at the sprawling city that would soon greet them. There were wagons in front of them as well, though he knew that it was winter and this was barely all the merchants that would soon rush to Prebovna. "Did you ever enter the church Sanice?" "Me?" Sanice looked baffled. "Do I look like the type to carry around praying robes? I don''t have the time for that." "Do you want to visit it then, Nikolas?" Tino said, elbowing Nikolas, a sly smile on his face. "The priestesses don''t marry so you shouldn''t get your hopes up." "I wasn''t looking for a priestess!" Nikolas shook his head, pushing Tino away. It was a playful kind of push, the kind he hadn''t done in years. "It looked nice, I just wanted to see if I could come closer." He thought maybe he could draw it, he was certain that the spirals were simply elongated circles and if he had the time, maybe from a rooftop, he could draw it and send it to Brytha. He could draw other things too, maybe, the beautiful dresses that Viola and Sanna spoke breathlessly of. But he wasn''t sure what to send to Aldeim. A letter that he was well, that should do it. Or perhaps he would find a girl and they would get married and then Aldeim would be happy that he had found someone. Out of all the puzzling things Aldeim said, Nikolas was certain that his father wanted him to be happy. "Ah, you don''t need to come closer lad," said Sanice cheerfully. "You''ll smell it before you see it, there''s nothing more the priestesses love than food offerings." He stared at her, and she took the reins into her right hand to pat his shoulder with her left, "You''ll soon know everything." Then she laughed, "Smell everything too!" He wasn''t sure what she meant until they reached the massive gates, and Sanice was reaching for her purse to pay the fee to enter Prebovna. The first smell to hit him was sour, sour and then sickeningly sweet. Then when the gates swung open he was greeted with a chaotic tide of people, and the smells that accompanied them. ''Welcome to Prebovna," said Tino brightly, swinging his legs back and forth and looking as if he wanted to laugh at the disappointment on Nikolas''s face. "What did you expect?'' "I did know there were a lot of people!" Nikolas said defensively. In his childhood town, and in Bifeld they had sewers. The maintenance of the whole system was done four or three times a year by a team of surly volunteers. Well, he knew it wasn''t completely voluntary, sometimes it was done by people who had already done it and their family. Sometimes it was done by people who needed to be paid, as no one liked the filthy work. Certainly not Brytha and her fellow merchants, all of whom pooled money into a pot to pay out to the workers. There didn''t seem to be this system in Prebovna. The wagon sloshed over water that was dark brown and as they passed the food merchants Nikolas could see the man simply tossing rotten food out into the street. It was immediately swarmed by pigeons, and then cats, and then dogs. If the animals of Prebovna looked desperate, then so did the people. Sanice waved away beggars that approached her wagon, and then children of beggars. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Can''t be seen handing out anything," she said grimly to Nikolas before standing up and shouting for her Rystars to follow the wagon with their pikes at the ready. "Else you''ll be fighting them off before long." There were many people that approached them, Nikolas thought. They looked like¡­ no, he shook his head. They did not look like the ghastly remains of the people he''d seen while on the way to Prebovna. But they might as well be, what with their gaunt faces and outstretched hands. The locket around his throat felt warm, and he tucked it firmly back into the layers of tunics he wore. They were desperate and that meant there would be witch hunters. The last thing he needed was to know what a witch hunter did. "Don''t worry," said Tino, sounding matter of fact. His pike was in the back of the wagon, but within easy reach. He had chosen instead to twirl around two knives, one in each hand. "We''ll be leaving Skipperginnel soon enough." "Skipperginnel?" Here Tino had taken on a rougher tone, and it almost sounded like something Aldeim would say. "Skipper, you know, like the little bugs that bite you," Tino explained, "and ginnel, because well, if you stay long enough in these ginnels you''re sure to have skippers crawling all over you. That''s if you''re lucky." Nikolas decided he didn''t need to know more. His excitement had faded, he stared cautiously around, until his eyes settled on a thread and needle sign. A seamstress he thought, and as the wagon rolled past he could hear the sound of boisterous laughter. "Don''t be going in there either," Sanice spoke up, glancing at where Nikolas had been looking. "You won''t be finding anything worth your while there." "I can mend my own clothes," Nikolas agreed, and Tino nearly fell off the wagon and dropped his knives laughing. "What?" Even Sanice was chuckling. "He doesn''t know what seamstresses are here!" Tino said, between huffs of laughter. "Are they not seamstresses?" "Oh, they do sew alright," Tino wheezed. "They sew all kinds of things!" Whatever mirth or meaning they found in their words was completely lost on Nikolas. "What do you mean?" "Right, I''ll spare Nikolas, you are being cruel now," Sanice was still smiling when she looked at Nikolas. "Has your father ever spoken of marriage, Nikolas? Well, the seamstresses here are not the type you''d be wanting to marry." At his open mouthed confusion, she rolled her eyes and leaned in, pitching her voice very low. "What they''re selling isn''t their sewing skills." "More like undressing!" Tino cackled, letting go of the knives with a clank to hold in his laughter. "If you''re still laughing at that no wonder no woman would look twice at you," Sanice said irritably. "Who says I want women to look at me?" Tino said with a raised eyebrow. He clapped Nikolas on the back, "But heed our words Nikolas, you won''t find anyone going to the seamstresses any time soon." "But what if you really needed something fixed? Do you not go to a..." he frowned, "tailor?" This made Sanice sigh deeply and shake her head. Tino''s grin was so wide that Nikolas could see two rows of teeth. "They are the same as seamstresses here." "If you want something fixed you''ll just go to the troupers," said Sanice. "They have costumes and costumes need fixing." He nodded, even though he still did not know what seamstresses and tailors do that made them unmarriageable. Was that not a trade? Did the Tsarina decree something against sewing and the associated profession? The wagon was going to the nicer part of the city now, he could tell because the smell was less, and the cobblestones were actually not slippery with muck and other unmentionables. The people were well-dressed and the houses well-kept. It reminded Nikolas of his first home, the brickwork and the colorful embroidered curtains and flowerpots that could be seen from the window. Occasionally there was a teapot, or a child''s toy, and he felt a sad longing in his stomach. It was too much like home, and the sudden burst of childish laughter had him spinning his body around, half-expecting to see Felie or Ada. But it was just a pair of siblings, a boy and a girl. Guigo and Diase, Nikolas thought, and the feeling did not go away. "Ah, why the long face?" said Tino, moving closer and giving him a sympathetic look. "I was just jesting you know, it''s not everyday I see someone so green. All the Rytsars know these things they''ve all lived around here." "It''s not that," Nikolas said, and swallowed down the tumultuous feelings boiling in his gut upon seeing the children. "It just reminds me of home. My first home, not my second." He glanced at the children again, a final look to confirm that it wasn''t his younger siblings he was seeing. "Ah," Tino looked solemn. "Yes, sometimes it happens and you can''t really control what you remember. Do you want to remember? Or I could talk about the troupers, they are an interesting group you know. They have their own district in Prebovna because they''re always moving around and it''s easier for the tax collectors to get a share from them that way." "They share the district with us," Sanice clarified. "Yes, but they do keep their own wagons around each other, and merchants have their own houses here if they''ve got enough coin." "Very much coin," Sanice groused. "Do you know Faila and her troupe?" Nikolas asked, hoping that at least he wouldn''t have to go around searching for a written sign. "No, but the troupers all know each other," Sanice said, and at Nikolas''s crestfallen look continued, "Look, Nikolas, I did promise your sister that I''ll leave you with the troupers. How she even knows them I don''t know, but maybe she''s their patron. Wouldn''t be the first time Brytha is a patron of some odd art here and there." "Brytha is a patron?" Nikolas said, wide-eyed. "Yes, didn''t you know? Your sisters were good but Brytha''s always liked songs and stories." "I''ve never seen her watch a trouper show!" "You can read a trouper show, if you''re a patron of a troupe, you can commission said troupe to perform a play to your own liking. And they''ll send you a script of it. I assume this is what your sister does, and this must be the troupe your sister took a fancy to." "I see," said Nikolas crossing his arms. It was very much unlike Brytha to spend frivolous money, as she would put it. So this must mean something more, and he hated that she didn''t tell him about it. He felt left out, like how Viola and Sanna didn''t tell him what songs they were practicing or how Guigo and Diasa was always together. Why didn''t Brytha tell him what she was doing? Book 2 - Chapter 8 They found the merchants'' district quickly enough. It was the one with the most wagons heading to it and situated closest to the flowing Tova. There was another massive gate here as well, to let the ships in and out. The arc of the gate was a massive dragon made of white marble. Its head faced the crowd, and its two sapphire eyes seemed to stare straight into Nikolas. "Don''t look at it," Tino said, pulling him away. They were walking next to Sanice''s wagon, and Tino had his pike at the ready. So did all the other Rysars. He would have thought it was paranoia but when he looked around all the other merchants had their own hired hands. Some more than others, Nikolas saw a merchant with a veritable small army surrounding her wagons. Though that was maybe because he didn''t know the scale of things, it was important to have a comparison. Big, as Brytha had hammered into him, was all perspective. One could have a bountiful grain harvest for Befeld but a paltry tribute to the crown. This was what she worried and harped upon, making enough contribution to the crown. But just enough mind you, just enough. When the collectors were sent back on their merry way to Prebovna Brytha had closed the door and let out a sigh, muttering about snakes in the grass. The dragon did look like a snake, Nikolas thought, and then cursed his thoughts for it jumped to the poor figures he saw the other night. "Why?" he asked, to distract himself more than anything. "There are some things you don''t do in Icfeld," said Tino, as a way of explanation. He casted a nervous look around the crowd, and motioned for Nikolas to move on. When Nikolas didn''t, he shoved Nikolas''s head down and hissed, "Move!" Nikolas motioned for Tino to let him sit on the wagon steps and the other boy let him do so. That gave him a chance to look around. If he was Brytha, he would look around, no doubt jump off the wagon and shake the hand of just the right merchant who would open just the right door. But he wasn''t Brytha and he didn''t know how to tell if a merchant did honest business. The signs hanging on their wagons and the little symbols they painted on them must mean something, he knew, but the merchants were zealous about keeping their symbols to themselves. There was only one sign he recognized and that was a sign indicating the minimum price of grain, or bread, or wine that the merchant was selling. Otherwise the signs could have been chicken scratch, for all he could understand of them. He had to focus on something because the crowd was suffocating, the press of them, the shouting and disarray and chaos. A part of him wanted to argue that he should be familiar with this, he grew up in such a household, but that was wrong. The household that Aldeim ran was deathly quiet after his siblings'' passing. And Nikolas had gotten too used to that quiet. He shook himself out of his thoughts, jumping down from his perch and making his way over to the driver''s seat. To do so he had to push past the Rytsars and an annoyed Tino. But Senice offered him a hand up. She didn''t talk much though, her eyes were on the house that they were approaching, a grand brick one with ivy crawling halfway up its face and glass in the window. The ivy was dead, because it was winter, but Nikolas knew it was the type of ivy that bloomed purple and gold in the summer. There were several wagons in front of it already, and some merchants were busy unloading their goods into the house. Barrels and boxes, he saw, and once again, could not make out the words written on them. He didn''t check what Senice was selling, it was like age, one did not ask unless the information was offered freely. But he was curious now, on what she sold. It couldn''t be food or wheat, this was not the time to be selling them. And in any case the wagon did not smell like food or preservatives. His thoughts were interrupted by Sanice shouting. He jumped as she almost pushed him to the side, standing up and gesturing furiously. "Make way! I paid for that spot madam! Make way!" When the woman didn''t move, she signaled for the Rytsars who forcibly pushed the unfortunate merchant and her small horseless wagon away from the space Brytha had reserved. There were curses from both sides, the merchant to Sanice and Sanice to the other woman. When it was all over Sanice was red faced and sweating. She let out a great sigh, falling back on her seat and wiping at her brow. It was rude to laugh, so Nikolas bit back his grin, but he couldn''t help thinking that Brytha may look like Sanice in the future. Though perhaps with less creativity, Brytha was very civilized. "Nikolas," Sanice said, turning to look at him. "Do you want to go with me to see Faila later or are you content to wait around? I would tell you to go look for yourself but you don''t seem at all steady on your feet at the moment." "I''d rather wait for you, thanks," Nikolas said, nodding in relief. He couldn''t even make out the merchants'' signs. How could he even hope to find Faila among all the color and scribbles? Sanice nodded, and with a final wipe of her forehead with a handkerchief, tossed it to the wagon before jumping out of the driver''s seat and ordering one of the Rytsar to feed and water the horses. The others she ordered to guard and help her unload the boxes. "Should I help?" said Nikolas, making his way over and shuffling his feet. "You keep an eye on the wagon and shove anyone out that tries climbing in," said Sanice straight-faced. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. He grinned nervously at that, and decided it meant that he ought to keep out of her way until she was ready to help him find Faila. Thankfully Tino was also tasked with watching over the wagon. "Why did she take those boys and not you?" said Nikolas before he could stop himself. Tino chuckled, "I already went into Rianskala, I''m not jealous." "Rianskala?" He was terrible at reading but he was not bad at remembering names. Rianskala sounded nothing like a mountain range or merchant names. "It''s the name of the head merchant''s husband. They change it every so often for flavor you know. Don''t ask me why." "Why Rianskala? Would it not be Rian?" said Nikolas. The name sounded superfluous on his tongue, and it sounded more feminine than masculine. "Don''t ask that question to Kvanka! You''ll know her, she''s the best dressed merchant in the house. It''s because," here Tino lowered his voice and motioned for Nikolas to lean in, "it''s because her husband is one of those." "Those?" "Did your father never tell you of s¡ª marital relations?" Tino said in an overly exaggerated swagger and Nikolas flushed. "No, he didn''t did he? Well, in Prebovna they do these men a favor and give them women''s names. Then everyone knows what they are." "Right," said Nikolas, deciding he couldn''t place Tino''s tone and not certain what he ought to make of the information. Tino didn''t whisper because it was something witch related. He whispered like it was some secret one shouldn''t tell in open daylight. "Oh you poor soul," said Tino and he held his hand to his heart like Nikolas''s reply personally wounded him. "You know I never recommend anyone going to a seamstress but for you I just may make an exception." "Why?" "Kvanka''s husband is one of those men. You know, the ones where the Goddess couldn''t quite decide what to make of their birth so She in Her magnificence decided to give them both parts?" He stared at Tino, then rummaged through his head, a tiring procedure, for anything to help him understand what on earth his friend was trying to say. Then it occurred to him, Jozin''s declaration and the odd interaction he''d had with the boy upon meeting him. "Oh, right!" He nodded, "Of course, I understand!" "I am so proud of you," said Tino, wiping his clean face. "And here I was, reaching for all the other words to say." "You could''ve just said sex," said Nikolas, scoffing. "I know the word sex. That''s a word, and I would have completely understood you." He grinned at the affronted look Tino threw his way and decided he ought to jest as well. "Then I wouldn''t have to stand there and watch you puzzle over whether or not you should introduce me to a seamstress." He had the nagging feeling that he knew what they were, but decided it was a thing he ought to tell his sister the next time he met her. Just to see her turn red and tell him off, he thought, amused. She was always playfully teasing him, it was her turn to get a taste of her medicine. "Do you know what to do around these parts?" Tino said, "We''re here now so Sanice''s kind enough to offer us some time off. I can show you some of the harbor shops, those are nice, you always get a good deal when you come just before closing time. Or we can try going to the highest bit in Prebovna before we''re thrown down for intruding upon our betters." "Don''t you have a proper Rytsar''s uniform?" Nikolas interrupted, "Won''t they let us through if we wear the proper uniforms?" Tino''s eyes were very wide and very shocked. He gaped, fish-like before frowning and said, "Why, I did not think of that. Well. Shame on me. To be fair I never kept mine in good working order. But I suppose... I suppose if one asked nicely the troupers can find us uniforms that fits! Or they can fix mine and my spare!" He clapped Nikolas on the back enthusiastically, so hard that Nikolas began coughing. "What is up in Prebovna?" Nikolas probed, all innocence. He knew the church was up there, that was certain, but from the way Tino said it, there must be more. "Tributes of all sorts," Tino said, and there was a dreamy note in his voice when he started the list. "Grapes, cantaloupes, oranges, pineapples, olives, butter, cheese, white bread, mutton¡ª" "What is a cantaloupe? What is an orange?" Nikolas interrupted with a frown. In the context, it must be a fruit, because while he''d never seen a pineapple it had the word apple in it so Tino must clearly be talking about fruit. But then he started to list butter and cheese and white bread, so he could clearly be wrong. Tino looked truly heartbroken then, "You''ve never tried one? You poor soul! Don''t worry we''ll go up and see if they''ve got some. It might be too late though, it''s winter, there''s no cantaloupes in winter. Unless they grow them in those huge glass houses, but I don''t know if Prebovna''s got glass houses, I think it''s only the wizards that have them." "Are cantaloupes and oranges fruit?" Nikolas demanded. This managed to throw Tino off whatever horse he was riding to and whatever destination he wanted to end at screeched to a halt as he nodded enthusiastically at Nikolas. "They are the best fruits ever, it is like tasting the sun!" "The sun is hot and unpleasant," Nikolas said, picking his words for maximum horror from Tino. He was promptly rewarded with splutters of dismay. "You wound me!" "Haven''t you ever had a sunburn?" Nikolas sniffed, crossing his arms. There was one summer, a long time ago that his father had taken the family to the sea. "It''s most unpleasant." "I don''t burn as easy as you do. Figuratively too," Tino challenged. Nikolas grinned and held out a hand, "Let us see about that." They shook hands, and as they waited for Senice to finish her business, the uncomfortable din of the crowd was replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach. It was nice to have a new friend. Book 2 - Chapter 9 Sanice took a long time, long enough that he could hear the ding-dong of the church bells. It started faintly at first, all the way up the hill where the nobles and their families and the Tsarina resided. Then the sound traveled down as the minor churches began ringing their own as well. The bells were definitely made of cheaper metal, they did not sound as elegant, or in tune. Or perhaps the boys the priestesses hired to ring the bells were completely tone deaf. Nikolas grinned at the thought, he''d always wanted to sneak up to a bell tower and ring the bell in the dead of night. That would show the lone priestess in their village a taste of her own medicine. She woke up earlier than the roosters. But he doubted he could get away with such antics now. The churches here must simply be full of people, for all the towering spires he could see around him. "Are these spires all the churches?" Nikolas asked, pointing, just to confirm his suspicions. In Befeld they only had the one, and a small one compared to the behemoth he''d seen from afar in Prebovna. Icfeld must be so big that they segregate their church-goers, like how Befeld had elevated pews for the merchants and their families. He didn''t remember where his family had sat. His father only took them on the anniversaries of his siblings'' death to lay flowers at the statue of the Goddess. Viola though, Viola had found comfort in it, but the one time she didn''t she had gone home in a huff, furious that the priestess did not allow her to sit with her friend. ''He''s not a merchant,'' Brytha had said, unfazed while Viola had raged and fumed. She had simply flipped over a new pages and started writing whatever it was she liked to write, ignoring the stomping feet and Viola''s red face. ''So?'' ''So he doesn''t sit with merchants and their families.'' ''That''s unfair!'' ''You ever try asking the Goddess about it?'' It was the only time she had looked up from her notes. He had caught a look of her face and he didn''t like it at all. Mainly because it was the same look he''d seen on her face years ago when she plotted to give their mother the divorce papers. Viola had asked an innocent question, Nikolas had thought, why had Brytha reacted so coldly? But then again, they had just moved to Befeld and Brytha was settling in, perhaps she was just stressed. She had always done well under stress but that meant she was snappish to them. But never to Aldeim, Brytha knew better to be snappish to Aldeim. "Yes, they''ve got a church for the troupers, a church for the fishermen, a church for the Rytsars, a church for the merchants," said Tino, nodding and waving his hand in the direction of the sounds. "Hm," Nikolas said noncommittally. Brytha had drawn the smaller deities worshiped around Icfeld in his notebook. It was good to know, she had insisted. Sometimes when one knows which God or Goddess a person prays to, then the interactions one had with the person is smoother. She had drawn necklaces that people wore, or bracelets. But he could see nothing of the sort on Tino. So he must worship the Goddess, and he had said so much when he went into great detail about the tributes one could find there. It was the kind of knowledge one only knew by being a devotee. "Look alive," Tino said suddenly, tapping Nikolas on the shoulder. "Here comes the lady of the hour." Sanice looked vaguely irritated, Nikolas thought, the lines of her eyes were set in a frown. If she was Brytha he would ask, but she was not his sister so he kept his mouth quiet. To his surprise, it was Tino who spoke up, and his voice was pitched all somber and polite. "Did something not go well, ??Mastachka Senice?" It was the first time Tino used a title, Nikolas realized, and wondered if he ought to have used one all along. But Senice had simply introduced herself as Senice, so surely she must want to only be addressed by Senice. "The usual," Senice looked irritated. She adjusted her hat on her head with a stiff angry formality. "The usual nonsense. Never mind. She let out a breath, "Right, let''s go about finding you this ??Mastachka Faila and her troupe. What were her symbols?" "A harp and a silver lantern," he recited, then blinked, surprised that he remembered. He hadn''t even sat in on Brytha''s lessons and he had remembered! He swallowed down the delight and shifted from one foot to another as he watched Senice frown in concentration. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Senice nodded, "Harp and silver lantern, how unique. Hm, usually that means they are performers and the silver lantern means they hail from the more northern regions. Almost where your father was from, no?" He blinked, "I guess?" He lived in Befeld for most of his life, surely she would say that he lived there. But he supposed Senice was one of the more strictly traditional types, where one was born would always be where one hailed from. "Come then," she motioned towards Nikolas, "best hurry before everyone and their mother rushes out the door to join an even bigger circus. Stay here Tino and make sure no one takes my spot. You are free to use your pike." "Understood!" Tino said, holding his palm up in a salute. He gave Nikolas a friendly grin, "If you don''t come by later I''ll be sure to see you soon! Someone has to show you how to go about Prebovna!" Nikolas waved and then turned to jog behind a very fast Senice. He thought that it was hard to follow Aldeim when he was younger, or Brytha when she set her sights on someone, or running after¡­ he took in a breath, catching a glimpse of two children scampering past them, running after Felie and Ada. "They''ll be this way," she said, moving swiftly between the spaces of people, so quickly that Nikolas had to squeeze through legs and push through bodies to keep up. She kept a running commentary of who they passed though, and he was glad that at least he could make out her voice. It would be very unfortunate to lose her in this crowd. There were the caravans of the Hayri with spices and incense, colorful birds and women in turbans and long flowing robes. Then there were the Khmedi, whose wagons were pulled by horses with oddly shaped backs and long necks. Knitted blankets were draped over them and they blinked lazily as Nikolas rushed past, their long lashes and tongues chewing green and silver grass. They passed the Anshad, who did not have wagons but had tents, and large winged beasts with the face of horses and the bodies of snow lions. On any other day he would have stopped to look, to marvel at whatever creature they were but Sanice must have seen these animals daily because she simply strolled past them as if they were regular house cats muzzled firmly to the ground. "Here they are," said Senice, motioning towards a series of wagons with swirls of blue and grey painted on the wood, "the Llandre." The two of them looked around, before Nikolas spotted the harp and lantern and pointed it out to Senice. "There!" "Right then," said Senice, and she smiled at him, impressed. "Good eye." If he wasn''t so horrible with numbers and letters perhaps he could accompany Senice on her merchanting trips. Or, Nikolas thought, another thought coming to his mind, this one brighter and more hopeful, perhaps he could be a Rytsar. Then he shook his head, that was foolish, he had no real training. What he needed to work on now as to impress Mastachka Faila. So he brushed back his hair and hoped that his clothes were in order. Senice walked toward this wagon at a more sedate pace. There were three figures sitting outside the wagon when Sanice approached with Nikolas walking behind her, a woman with brown curly hair who was carving something in her lap, a dark haired man strumming a lute and a man with greying hair smoking a pipe. They all wore patterned wool kilts and woolen cloaks, green and dark blue for the men, while the woman''s had thin stripes of silver. "Good evening, I am ??Mastachka Sanice," said Sanice pleasantly, and here she made a short bow, "?I am looking for ??Mastachka Faila." The woman looked up, and Nikolas felt like he had seen her somewhere. She looked very familiar to him, and he couldn''t place why. Then it occurred to him that she had his father''s pale angular features, though Aldeim never had that many freckles on his face. "I am she," said ??Mastachka Faila. She returned the bow to Senice before giving Nikolas a curious look. "And who is this?" "Nikolas is here," Senice placed both hands on Nikolas''s shoulders and pushed him forward, "on the behalf of his sister Brytha and his father Aldeim." There was no reaction when Brytha''s name was mentioned but at Aldeim''s name Faila''s eyes brightened recognition. She clapped her hands together, nearly dropping the knife and carving she had been working on. "Ah! Nikolas! Of course, your father did say something about you!" She placed her carving, a wooden animal of some kind, on the cushion she was seated on and made her way to Nikolas. "It is a pleasure to meet you ??Mastachka Faila," said Nikolas, making sure that his bow was respectful and deep enough. He hoped it was the right bow, it was an Icfeldian one, not a Llandrian one. Not that he even knew what a Llandrian bow would even look like, it was a miracle he knew what they were wearing. Faila waved his courtesy aside, "Oh there is no need for that, we are all friends here." There was a warmth to her smile that reminded him faintly of Jozin''s mother, and he stopped himself from reaching for his necklace. No, there was no warmth there, and no, he should not draw attention to it. "I leave you in good hands," said ??Senice, clapping Nikolas''s shoulder and smiling kindly, "Do confirm to your sister I''ve done that. I would hate for her to suspect my honesty." He supposed that Brytha must have paid in advance for his journey, and he hoped that it wasn''t as high as the tuition for his other siblings. He had to pay her back, he didn''t want to add to more of her money woes, even if he knew at the back of his mind that Brytha was too smart to get their family into debt. She had left a good impression on Senice, so it was only fair that the woman should leave with a good view of his family as well. "Thank you, ??Mastachka Senice," Nikolas said, deciding he ought to imitate Tino and how he did that little salute to her. This had the desired effect. Sanice smiled and leaned in, whispering in his ear, "You can ask around for a scribe anywhere but do not do so in Rianskala." "Thank you for your advice," he said honestly, storing the information away for future reference. He had to ask Faila then, for a good scribe. But first, he had to make his introductions to the others. He smiled at the two men and made the same bow as he did to Faila, but less deep, "I am Nikolas, pleased to meet you." "Well isn''t he a gentleman," said the man holding the lute. He stood up, lute in one hand and holding out his calloused palm to Nikolas. "Jaufre, at your service. And the lazy bastard there is Erwing." Nikolas shook Jaufre''s hand and hesitated, wondering if he should wait for Erwing to stand up. "I''ve earned my rest," Erwing grunted through his pipe. Then he laboriously got to his feet. "You can call me Erl." "Arl?" Nikolas tried valiantly. "Close enough," Erl chuckled. Book 2 - Chapter 10 They weren''t the only three members that Nikolas met. Faila introduced him to a dizzying array of names, names which he committed to memory with the reflexes of a lifetime listening in to Brytha''s lessons. She had three wagons, one for herself and her daughters, one for the female troupers and one for the male troupers. "We haven''t got anyone married otherwise they''ll have their own wagon, but," here she gave a chuckle, "usually when they''re married they''ll either settle down or start their own troupe." She had a nice laugh, Faila, Nikolas decided. He liked her smile and how she sounded so happy to be telling him things. He knew he should remember the names, because it was polite to and he would be living with them for the time being. But it was nice to be welcomed. "That''s Eldis and Philipa''s wagon," said Faila pointing to the smallest wagon, "Owall, Posilo, Jaufre and Erwing are in the other." At his questioning look she shook her head, "I believe they are asleep, Posilo and Oswall. Eldis as well. They do keep odd hours, the three of them, even odder than us, but I don''t complain, they do draw the crowds when they bother to wake from their beauty slumber." "And Eldis?" "She''s with the others," said Faila, pointing to where he thought he could see crowd of the LLandre. It was easy to tell them apart because all the Llandre men and women wore those kilts. That was all the small talk he could think of. If he couldn''t see the rest of the troupe there was none of that small talk that had to happen when one met new people. But perhaps that was a good thing because no doubt it would result in them asking what he was good at, and he didn''t know the answer to that particular line of questioning. Faila was doing Aldeim a favor wasn''t she, so it was highly unlikely she would just send him packing home. But what if she did? He took a deep breath, it would bode badly on him to panic now. He looked around, trying to think of something, anything, to focus his attention on. There were clothes hanging on a line just outside the women''s wagon, kilts he recognized, but the others he couldn''t quite place. Perhaps they were costumes, like Tino had told him. Maybe if he asked nicely then Eldis and Philipa might lend him a hand and he could sneak up the city with his new friend. Tino would appreciate that he thought, and no doubt Brytha might like a picture he could maybe draw of the place? Then the question that he had been dreading passed across Faila''s mouth, "What can you do?" Faila said, hands on her hips and curiosity in her gaze. "You''re Aldeim''s child, I''m sure he''s taught you something. A song or two, no?" Nikolas blinked at her, and the ridiculous notion that Aldeim would even sing. Wait, no, his father did sing, but that was a long, long time ago and Nikolas could only hope to capture the dying embers of memory. "I don''t remember him singing," he confessed. He glanced at the ground, at the one stubborn weed that survived the wheels of the wagon and decided he couldn''t bring himself to scruff his boot on it. Then he glanced up. This is when he would see pity, he knew, pity for his father''s suffering and if Faila knew Aldeim then this would be when the apologies and condolences would flow forth like Aldeim''s endless glasses of wine upon hearing these things. To his surprise, Faila looked crestfallen, and then her smile was kind when she said, "I understand. What else can you do?" "My sisters are the ones that can sing," Nikolas said, trying to deflect the questions from him and the scrutiny in Faila''s eyes made him feel like it was another query he couldn''t quite honestly answer. "And my eldest sister''s the merchant and the twins are¡ª" "Yes, you have many siblings," Faila nodded patiently. "But what about you? What can you do?" "I can¡­" he glanced around, then it occurred to him maybe he could say he could draw. Not proper portraits that hung on the fancy manors, just regular things here and there. Brytha had said that he could capture the shadows just so. But to Nikolas it never felt perfect, he never managed to draw them quite right, all the things he drew on charcoal were as lopsided and uncomfortable as he was when he drew them. "Ah," Faila frowned, then said more softly and quietly, gesturing for him to follow her behind the bigger wagon. When they were hidden away from prying eyes she said in a whisper, "You''re not one of ¡ª" here she said something incomprehensible to him. Nikolas shook his head and she said again, sounding apologetic, "You haven''t been blessed by the Goddess have you? I just want to ask, because some of them have trouble settling down. Most of them join us, in fact, so I thought I ought to ask. I do hope I am not being too forward but some of them prefer different names and such¡ª" You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "You don''t want me to leave?" Nikolas blurted out. This was far from what he expected from her, and he didn''t understand why she reached that conclusion. Then he decided that perhaps Faila and Aldeim had not seen each other in years, because if his family ever produced such a child they would be betrothed to someone very high up, possibly in the noble court. Aldeim would have let everyone around him knew, that would have been something special indeed, such a grand marriage. "Oh? Oh no!" Faila shook her head. "No, Aldeim sent you and I''m always sure to do a favor or two for Aldeim. He never asked for them even though I told him he could." Here she let out a sigh and Nikolas had to wonder what happened between her and Aldeim. There was that knowledge of her children''s names, and he thought it was the right opportunity to change the topic, "He said you have daughters? Ainnar and Maera?" He bit down a pleased grin at his recall of the names. They were odd, so they stuck out in his memory. Certainly it was nice of Faila to give her daughters such interesting sounding names that he could remember from just hearing it once. This question of his took her by surprise, he knew, because her eyes widened and she stepped back just a little. Then she relaxed and gave a huff of laughter. "I see," she grinned, and he saw that she had a chipped tooth on the corner. "I see what you''re good at. Memory huh? You''ve got a mind for these things." "I do?" Nikolas paused. He wanted to stare at anything else besides her face but here, with only the wagon and the wall and maybe some weeds underneath his boots, it was hard to concentrate on what he ought to say. He hoped it didn''t sound like a stammer when he next spoke, "I do." "Say it with more confidence, Nikolas," said Faila, tapping his head. "As much confidence as you''ve said my daughters'' names. They''re not Ainnar and Maera though, they go by Anni and Mae. I blame Erwing. Always going around offering people names. Like¡ª" she stopped catching herself. "Never you mind. They''re with the other children. I think they should be back in time for supper. Oh. You haven''t had any have you? I know the merchants are stingy with their meals. No offense to your ??Mastachka Sanice." "She did offer," Nikolas said faintly even as he felt his stomach grumbling. He shifted his bag onto his other shoulder loudly to hide the noise. Faila clearly heard it, because she gave a shake of the head, her curls bouncing, "Not enough. Come along then." By come along, Faila meant for him to follow her to the hub of the other Llandre troupers. There were not that many of them, but enough that Nikolas could only hope to follow the names that they were throwing at him. There were many peculiar sounds, even harder than when he had tried to say Erl. There was a wine bottle still in his bag and he wanted to reach for it and pass it around as a show of comradery. But that might be a bad idea, there were too many of them, and it would look beyond insulting if he made an offer and did not provide for the group as he should. So he went back to the thing he knew the best, which was to smile and try as hard as he could to remember all the names being thrown at him. At least their kilt patterns were different. Faila''s troupe wore green and dark blue but the other ones seem to favor other combinations and thicknesses of stripes. Though he couldn''t very well just call them by color, he had a suspicion that would not be met with a laugh and a smile. Then he heard excited shouting. Two voices shouting to be exact and they ran past him into Faila''s arms. "Mama!" "Mama!" Faila buckled under the two children that threw themselves at her, and she rolled her eyes fondly before looking at Nikolas, "This is Anni and Mae. Anni, Mae, this is Nikolas, he''ll be joining us." He didn''t like the sickening feeling in his gut he felt upon seeing anyone that looked like Felie and Ada. Now though, it came flooding back as he met the curious eyes of Anni and Mae. There had been no portraits of him and his younger siblings. Their mother had been away for so long that Aldeim had not bothered to hire an artist. His reasoning had been that by the time one had gotten there, Diase would have left for her duties. Aldeim had commissioned smaller pictures of his children though. Locket sized, Nikolas knew, with strands of their hair. He kept it somewhere in his dresser, and for Richan, Lianne, Felie and Ada¡­ Nikolas knew their lockets weren''t in Aldeim''s bedroom. No, he suspected his father kept those portraits around his person, because on the times he''d helped Aldeim back to bed after the¡­ anniversaries of their death, sometimes the lockets would slip out of Aldeim''s pockets, falling to the floor together, because Aldeim had linked them together. Anni and Mae looked so much like Felie and Ada but not quite. They didn''t have Felie''s upturn nose or Ada''s wide brow and gap tooth grin. They didn''t wear their hair like Felie did, all braided and in ribbons. They didn''t run together, hand in hand like his sisters had done. No, they had hugged Faila and then separated, Anni giving Nikolas a curious look while Mae retreating. Then his stomach gave a lurch again, because that would be what Felie and Ada would have done. But Anni and Mae were so much older than his sisters, and it wasn''t fair! It simply wasn''t fair. He let out a breath, in and out, and forced a smile onto his face. It wasn''t their fault that his mind was making him see things that shouldn''t be there. They looked polite and happy to see him, even if Mae held back, holding on to Faila and peeking out from behind her back. "Hello Anni," said Nikolas and he sat back on his heels, the easier for her to see his face. "I''m Nikolas." Her hair was tied back in a blue handkerchief, and he could see someone had clumsily sewn a butterfly and flower onto the corner. "Yes, I know, silly, mama just told us your name." She said and was immediately chastised by Faila. "I''m sorry," she said, but she did not sound sorry at all. Her eyes fell onto Nikolas''s bag, "Do you have sweets?" "Anni!" "Do you have sweets?" Mae echoed, stepping cautiously towards Nikolas. "Please? I like sweets too!" "I have¡­ sweet bread?" Nikolas suggested, and he rummaged in the bag and offered them a look. "Oh, please eat first, Nikolas, humor them later," said Faila wryly even as Anni and Mae begged. Book 2 - Chapter 11 Eating with the Llandre was very different from eating in his father''s house. Aldeim liked things in an orderly manner, everyone in their right place and plates, knives, forks, spoons, all lined up in a row. There was nothing like that with the Llandre. If there was no fork then they used their hands, and if there wasn''t a spoon, well, there was plenty of slurping to be heard all around. Nikolas paused, uncertain as to what to do, it was impolite, was it not to make sounds? But everyone was doing so, and it would be odd to sit there with his bowl in his hand. "You''re not hungry?" said Jaufre. He''d sat down next to Nikolas, and had accepted the bowl handed to him by a Llandre woman with a bow and flourish that made the woman blush. The other man was wearing a truly ludicrous hat. He recognized the material of the hat as something velvet, and the embroidery on it was a cheap imitation of gold and silver. But the feathers puzzled him. Jaufre must be very brave to try to pluck whatever bird the feathers in his hat came from, Nikolas thought wryly. One feather was simply massive, and he didn''t know what bird would produce that specific hue of blue and green. There were circles on the feathers, and in the light of the campfire it looked like a thousand eyes were staring at him from Jaufe''s head. It was unnerving, and he didn''t like it in the slightest. "I am," Nikolas began, shifting so his leg wouldn''t go numb. The ground was a horrible place to sit, he decided, next time he would copy the Llandres who were sitting on cloaks folded into makeshift pillows. Or he could sit in the wagons, perhaps Faila would pull hers closer to the fire if things get colder in the winter. "I just¡ª" "Miss the trappings of civilization?" Jaufre wiggled his eyebrows up and down, sounding all too cheerful. Then he set his bowl down, it was already half empty, how he managed to eat without the feathers getting into his soup Nikolas had no idea. The man nudged Nikolas playfully with his elbow, "Don''t we all. Hey, take it this way, every man should know how to behave in polite society and how to¡ª" "Ahem!" Faila coughed, sending a frown his way. She was seated with what Nikolas could only assume as the other leaders of the Llandre. If his eyes didn''t fail him, then any one who was a Mastachka had silver or gold on their kilts. But they didn''t call themselves Mastachka he could hear a different word being said. It was said enough in combination with a name that it must be a title. He made a note to ask Faila if she''d like him to call her whatever title it was. Some people liked their own tongues than a foreign one, and in all likelihood Faila might be one of them. Even if the Llandrians were part of Icfeld for years and years now. His father spoke the Llandrian tongue, sometimes he would address the incoming merchants with it and they''d responded very positively to his words. Brytha could speak some words as well, she learned upon seeing the benefits of it, but then Aldeim had written down the words for her to remember and that was the end of Nikolas trying to learn his father''s tongue. He half-expected Faila to walk over and sternly eye Jaufre, she did seem the type, but she merely frowned and waited. Jaufre let out a long sigh and said, very loudly, "¡ª to behave among friends!" Jaufre sent a toothy grin her way, which was promptly ignored. Jaufre scooted closer to Nikolas and leaned in too closely for his comfort. "What are you here for then, Nikolas?" "My mother said I''ll find my fortune here," said Nikolas, deciding to forgo all courtesies and tip the bowl into his mouth. It was a generous serving, he could taste carrots, parsnips and oats. There were even bits of pork, chopped so small he supposed the cook didn''t have much to start off with. But it was there, which meant the Llandre did well for themselves. They even passed around a massive cup of cider, which was refilled when it returned to the start of the circle they sat around. It was tangy and sweet and made him think of summers spent climbing the trees in the orchards in his childhood home. If he closed his eyes he was sure he could see Felie and Ada. But he didn''t because that was not a path he liked to go down. Not when he could see Anni and Mae seated next to Faila. They were alive when his siblings weren''t. Maybe Aldeim did them a favor by not soliciting the families around for a playmate when they settled in Befeld. Nikolas was very certain this sinking feeling he felt in his stomach would have been worse if he had had a playmate, and they had siblings around Felie and Ada''s age. What would she have liked now Felie? Would she have been interested in cooking? Would she have still done her little witch tricks? Would she have gone to an academy? She loved the cookies she was supposed to be making with Warada. He didn''t take them when he left, they were somewhere in his dresser, still magically preserved. Besides, he didn''t want to take a bite and break the enchantment. Ada was too young to tell, she was flighty and liked asking questions. Maybe she would be helping Brytha now because she clearly would be smarter than him, and she would have been good at reading and writing and seeing patterns in the parchment. Lianne, he knew would be like Viola and Sanna, she would be a mistress of all sorts of instruments, or have a lovely voice and be the envy out of the three of them. It wasn''t complete just the two of them, they had to be a trio and Nikolas felt that they substituted music for Lianne, like if they played their flutes, their violins, their pianos and sang loud enough, they would summon her presence. As for Richan. He gave Jaufre a furtive look. Richan would be Jaufre''s age, and he had wanted to travel hadn''t he? Or would it be that he would have invited Nikolas and they would have had the best of summers? He had promised, hadn''t he, that Nikolas would always be welcomed? Unless Richan and his wife had so many children he was too busy to think of Nikolas, and that was such a horrible thought Nikolas decided not to entertain it altogether. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He distracted himself by looking over at Jaufre. The bard was deep in conversation with a fellow Llandre, and by the sound of things, and the way the corner of Jaufre''s eyes crinkled in a smile, it was funny. Nikolas was correct, because a moment later the Llandre next to Jaufre threw back her head and laughed and the bard joined in. Richan would have known what to say to make anyone laugh. Jaufre was doing all that Richan wanted to do, wasn''t he? And Richan did have a nice voice, though he was very certain that his brother would never wear such a hat. He would d¡ª Nikolas swallowed, and the soup suddenly tasted very bitter. "You alright there?" one of Jaufre''s eyebrows was raised, and then the other one rose to match. Nikolas stared into the campfire, then decided it was one of those times where he should tell both a truth and a lie. "I''ve never gone this far from home before." "Ah," Jaufre abandoned his seat next to the Llandre and padded his way over to Nikolas. He also wore the most outrageous shoes Nikolas had ever seen. How Jaufre did not trip on them Nikolas decided he didn''t care to know. Probably experience, or perhaps Jaufre liked tripping on things. "Don''t worry you''ll get used to it," said Jaufre, gently. There was a look in his eyes that Nikolas recognized very well enough. Pity. "I am fine," Nikolas insisted. "I am perfectly fine. I just don''t know what to make of things, is all. My father told me to meet Faila and I wished he''d told me a bit more." "Is your father the prim and proper sort?" "What?" "You know, the kind that has to have everything in order? Children in a row? He must have more than just you, no?" "I don''t understand what you want to ask me," Nikolas muttered, even though he knew very well. In response Jaufre slung an arm around Nikolas, "Listen, Nikolas, those are the sort to have all sorts of interesting tales they don''t talk about." "Right," Nikolas said, unconvinced. Then Jaufre said the question that everyone in Nikolas''s life asked him. "What are you good at?" "I can draw," Nikolas lied. "There''s always room for improvement," Jaufre nodded. "I''m sure Erl would be happy to teach you. Maybe Anni if she''s ever so generous, huh, Anni?" he laughed at the girl who wandered over. "Will you share the bread with me please?" said Anni, and her eyes were as wide as they could go, Nikolas thought. "Anni saying please? Why I never!" said Jaufre and Anni stuck out her tongue in his general direction. "Of course," said Nikolas and he carefully pulled out the wrapped bread and reached for his pocket knife. "Where is Mae?" "Mae doesn''t want any," Anni said with seriousness, grinning widely. She had two dimples on her cheek and shifted from side to side. What a liar, Nikolas thought, amused. "I will call her anyway, just to ask." "No!" Anni shouted as Nikolas called out the younger girl''s name. Mae was quick to appear, and she clapped her hands in delight when Nikolas handed her a slice. He didn''t take any for himself. It was lucky that this loaf earned him so many friends. If he''d known he would have taken more. He caught Jaufre looking at him and frowned. "Do you want one too?" "No, no, what kind of man am I to take food from boys?" Jaufre laughed, "Don''t worry about sharing Nikolas, I''m sure you''ll share when the time comes." He sounded light and cheerful but the implications were there and Nikolas didn''t like it. He opened his mouth to ask if Jaufre could clarify but then Faila stood up and clapped her hands. "Anyone want to join in a dance?" There were cheers and groans, and to the groans Faila curtseyed and said, "If not, then I bid you goodnight!" "So, Nikolas," said Jaufre, holding out a hand to him, "Do you want to dance?" He eyed the circle of Llandrians forming and the very fast music that was starting to play. "I don''t know if I know the dance. And I''m very tired," he said, adding a yawn for emphasis. "Are you really?" said Jaufre, and he cocked his head to one side before calling out, "Oi, Eldis, Philipa! Are you going to sleep tonight?" Jaufre ignored the puzzled looks his way and waited for the women to respond. Jaufre had his back turned to Nikolas so he couldn''t see the bard''s face. He could only see Eldis and Philipa, who glanced over Nikolas''s way and then shook her head. Then Jaufre was back and there was a grin of triumph on his face. "You are lucky Nikolas, it''s not everyday the ladies here let you stay in their wagon." "I am fine with sharing!" Nikolas said defensively even as he was preparing for words to say to Jozin. He needed to say he was going to find his fortune, and that if things were going well, he was going to Skapina to see his friend. They had made a promise after all. "Listen, Nikolas," said Jaufre, and his eyes were very kind. Too kind, and it reminded him of Richan again. "Sometimes you just want to think things over by yourself. We all have those days. Just be sure not to snoop around the wagon. I don''t think I''ll forgive myself if you find something your eyes will regret." "What?" Nikolas stared open eyed at Jaufre. The bard made a praying gesture, "I''m glad you still hold such innocent thoughts." Jaufre was clearly not Richan, Nikolas decided, rolling his eyes. Richan would have told him what it was or lock the thing away. He did have a laugh though, a small one, not at all malicious, when Jaufre tripped upon getting up to join the Llandre dance. Book 2 - Chapter 12 He didn''t know what Jaufre was concerned about, the wagon was very clean to him. It was clear which corner belonged to which woman though. Eldis had a wooden box with a large E carved onto its lid, placed on top of a pile of neatly folded clothes. The letter was large and bold enough that Nikolas could tell it was an E. He couldn''t mistake it for a P, that would be stupid, even for his standards. So the right corner was Eldis and the left corner was Philipa. The other woman didn''t keep hers as organized as Eldis, she seemed to have three baskets where she stuffed all of her belongings. One looked like a sewing basket with various odds and ends, the other was a clothes basket and the lid was closed on the last one. It was probably best not to look then, so Nikolas carefully made his way to a corner that didn''t have any belongings. Which was a hard task because anywhere that didn''t clearly have Eldis and Philipa''s things was where the troupe stored either their food in wooden barrels or costumes peeking out of chests. So his plan was working even if he didn''t mean for it to work, Nikolas thought, pleased. Though he wasn''t sure what the uniform colors would be, he only knew faintly that his mother''s uniform was not the standard one that the royal Rytsars would wear, and that royal uniforms would have a dragon on them somewhere. But that was a question for later, now he had to talk to Jozin, and tell him all about Prebovna. Jozin must have wanted to visit Prebovna, everyone did at some point. He glanced around, careful to close all the wagon windows and doors. Then he pulled off his cloak, making a makeshift pillow as the Llandrians did outside. It was Viola that put in the blanket, and he had to thank her as he took it out, pulling it over his head to conceal what it was he was going to do. All the time he''d traveled with Sanice the merchant had told him to keep his boots on. ''Should be ready to run at a minute''s notice,'' she''d explained. After that night, and the¡­ people-that-weren''t he decided to defer to her judgment. But now he was safely in a city, wasn''t he, he could just take off his boots and properly sleep. Well, not before he talked to Jozin. He took out the dragon scale and held it between his palms, rubbing nonsensical circles on it. The motion warmed the scale and gave it a soft reddish glow. "Jozin?" he whispered, "Jozin, can you hear me?" He waited, frowning and tapping his foot impatiently before he heard an answer. "Yes." Nikolas grinned, and leaned in closer. Usually the scale would show Jozin by now, he would be in his room, or that library but this time it showed nothing but Nikolas''s own reflection. "Jozin?" "I''m not feeling well," Jozin said, and his voice was muffled. He coughed, "Sorry. It''s a bad one, I''m all red and disgusting looking." "I don''t mind!" Another cough, "I do!" It was uncharacteristically snappish of Jozin so he must be really sick Nikolas concluded. "I didn''t mean to pry," Nikolas said honestly. "I haven''t seen you in a while. I¡ª" miss you, he thought, but that sounded sappy and gross. "How are you doing?" "I''m sick! What else?" A long sigh, "Nothing much. I am sorry for snapping, my mother''s always been there and this time she''s not. She''s got business and I don''t think M¡ª her apprentice knows how to brew anything. She''s nice but I don''t think she can brew as well as my mother can." "What about Surio?" There was a long silence at that, "He''s out scouting, probably out in the wilds in some cabin and roasting some deer or elk or whatever it is they do on these trips." "You could go with him, you know," Nikolas suggested. "I''m sure he''ll like it if you come?" There was a laugh on the other end, soft and disbelieving, "I''m sure I''ll slow him down. He''s such a good archer these days I think all he wants to do is practice, and it has to be alone you know, because archery is such a one man sport." "Ah," he scratched his head, because usually a pause from Jozin meant he could at least see the other boy''s face and guess at what topic to move onto. But he was only staring at his own confused one and that didn''t give him any answers. "Enough about me," said Jozin, and he really did sound congested. "What about you? How did you find Prebovna? Did you like it? I heard it is so big you can fit five dragons inside the walls with room to spare." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "There are odd animals!" Nikolas exclaimed and was more than happy to tell him about the Hayri, the Khmedi and the Anshad. "Their animals are so strange looking! I didn''t know there were horses that had snow lion bodies and how colorful those birds were and how do you even get horses with those odd backs?" "They don''t do well in the cold," Jozin said, "That was unkind to ride them all the way to Prebovna. But that is what you saw, now how you feel about it. Did you like Prebovna?" There were times when he wished Jozin didn''t ask the questions he did, probing and hitting just the right place. He swallowed hard. Of course he liked Prebovna, even though it was loud and full of people and strange rules, especially regarding the things he couldn''t do, it was better than Befeld. What could he do in Befeld except sit there and watch his siblings live their lives? "Nikolas? Nikolas, it''s just a question," Jozin sounded gentle, "You know you can go home right, if you don''t like it?" "I don''t want to!" "Then don''t." "It''s not easy!" Nikolas snapped and then froze, cautiously lifting his blanket from his head. He wasn''t too loud was he? There was no one, and he couldn''t hear the sound of footsteps or people outside his wagon. He let out a breath and continued in a much more subdued tone, "I can do something here. I can''t¡­ I can''t go back to Befeld, what am I supposed to do there? I''ll just see my siblings be better and," he scowled, and it was a weak argument he knew but he had to say it, "be better!" "What do you want to do in Prebovna? Your father sent you with a merchant didn''t he? Are you working with her?" "No! Why would she want to apprentice me, I can''t¡ª" he bit back an angry shout, and said, in a more calmer tone. "No, it is Faila, an old friend and she was nice, but she also asked me what I was good at and I don''t know Jozin. I said to her bard that I could draw but you know I am not good at that either. What am I supposed to do?" "You do have a good memory, you remembered all those odd names. I don''t know what they are now and I''m sure you only heard it once?" "That''s not a talent!" "It is if you know how to use it," said Jozin and there was a grin in his voice, if that was possible. "I don''t see how." "You''re clever, I''m sure you''ll think of something." Jozin sounded so confident even when he was sick, thought Nikolas irritably. He pulled the blanket off of himself, it was too warm now and his head was spinning. As he saw the contents of the wagon it suddenly occurred to him, a new problem. "I can''t talk to you everyday now." "Oh?" Now it was definitely amusement in Jozin''s voice, "Why?" "I''m sharing wagons, Jozin, I don''t think I can just talk to you. And¡­" he pulled the blanket over his head, "I don''t know if they would frown upon me talking to a dragon scale? I don''t want to risk it." "Wise of you." Jozin sounded too happy, "You don''t want to talk to me?" "Nikolas, you know you can send me a letter?" "I can''t!" "Nikolas, you said to the bard, whoever it was, I don''t think you told me his name, you said you could draw. Send me a drawing." "It doesn''t tell you anything, I can''t draw!" This led to a longer pause and he could hear the sound of something tapping on wood. "Have you ever played chess?" In his father''s study there was a board with black and white squares and carved figures. It was set in a precise configuration, the little Rytsars placed just so, the priestess placed just there, and the Tsar and Tsarina in their little corners. There were other figures as well, but he didn''t remember what they were because he never went that close to Aldeim''s desk. All he knew when he was younger was that it was something Richan did with his father. Now that he was older... Nikolas suspected it was the precise locations of the last game Richan played with Aldeim. When it happened, he didn''t like to think about. So no, he wasn''t sure how to play the game because he didn''t know who to ask. "My father has a set in his study but I don''t play. It''s... it''s something he did with Richan." "I''m sorry," a breath, "look Nikolas, what I meant is, sometimes you can play a chess game through letters, each piece and each position on the board can stand for a letter you know. It''s a great way to send messages. But if you don''t know, the pieces can stand for something as well! Like the Rystar and the merchant and the priestess. You can draw out their little symbols and that can be a code!" "You can guess?" "Nikolas!" He had to grin, because it was just like Jozin to enjoy solving puzzles. He wasn''t sure if Jozin would comprehend the mess of drawings he would send his friend though. "But who do I give it to, Jozin, I don''t know anyone who would go to Skapina!" And there were people you don''t ask, Sanice had told him. "Don''t worry about it," said Jozin, "I can ask Lanua, you know her? She delivered the letter to you." "The... cat?" said Nikolas, "Didn''t you say before that she doesn''t like to do errands?" "I''ll ask nicely," said Jozin confidently. "Look, whenever she arrives, make sure to give her a treat or two. She likes fish, fried, dried, salted, however you make them, give it to her. She''ll do proper deliveries if you bribe her. But don''t think that because she''ll get huffy. No, you''re paying for her company." "She reads minds?" He had to scoff. The creature had been smart enough to open his window, but he refused to believe that it could understand his thoughts. Most days he didn''t even understand himself. "She reads intentions." Nikolas shook his head, chuckling under his breath. Sometimes being Jozin''s friend meant he learned so many odds and ends. Did Guigo and Diasa ever learn about cat birds he wondered. He should ask them, and perhaps he could figure out a way to ask through a drawing. That was very complicated though and he rubbed at the incoming headache. It was easy enough to ask how Jozin was doing, he would draw what he thought Skapina would look like, and what he remembered of his friend''s feature. Then he''ll let Jozin think it over. He had to grin again, because that was a rather fascinating idea, puzzles through pictures. Why didn''t he think of this before? Then he heard voices outside, and laughter, probably from Jaufre, by the sounds of things. The man walked as loud as a rooster in the morning. He quickly reached for his blanket again, adjusting it and making sure the light from the scale was completely covered. "I should go. It was good talking to you," said Nikolas, and decided to say it anyway, because he truly felt it, "I missed you." There was a long pause, and when Jozin spoke he sounded as if he was speaking through a particularly stuffy nose, "I always liked speaking with you Nikolas. You made me feel better." Then he let out a long sigh, "I''m sorry that we can''t talk for longer. Please write me a letter, Nikolas, I would love to see what you draw." Book 2 - Chapter 13 The next day he was awoken by Jaufre in a hat that looked like it was made out of the many sacrifices of plumed peahens. It tickled Nikolas''s nose and made him sneeze, and the sight of it was enough to shake him out of whatever sleep Nikolas was trying to pursue. "Good morning, Nikolas, up and at them! You didn''t have any girls over, did you? Had a good night, did we?" Jaufre was smiling too brightly for this time of the day, and he''d somehow managed to open all the windows of the wagon as well, letting all the cold air in. Nikolas shivered, and wished for the other man to trip on his second pair of impractical boots. Then he impulsively reached for his own boots, because the dragon scale was in it and he didn''t want anyone looking. He should find a better place for it, maybe in a pouch on his belt. Or no, Prebovna was big enough to have pickpockets that would be a horrible place to hide such a rare item. "I had no such thing," Nikolas scoffed, and pulled the blankets over himself before deciding to give up and properly get ready for the day. He took a deep breath and dared ask the question he wanted to ask, "What can I do to help?" "You?" Jaufre blinked, "Helping?" Nikolas was about to frown before the man threw back his head and laughed, "Before breakfast? Don''t be too hasty now. You don''t want to volunteer your talents for free! How else do you get appreciation and coins?" This was a bad joke but perhaps it was good to laugh along, so Nikolas did. "I do mean it," Nikolas continued, "What can I do to help?" "Erl''s not up yet," Jaufre pointed out, gesturing towards the men''s wagon. "If you listen closely you can hear him snoring away. Hm. What can you do? Well, we''re not camping so you don''t need to gather firewood. Or maintain the fire. We''re not putting a show so there''s no rehearsals. What can¡ª Oh! Right! Can you manage a needle and thread?" "I thought you would go to a seamstress and pay for their time," Nikolas said wryly and added a grin, just so Jaufre knew that Nikolas was not innocent and sweet. "Very funny," Jaufre agreed, "I suppose you are a jester. Would you like your own hat as well?" Nikolas wrinkled his nose and Jaufre made to clutch at his heart, "Oh, unappreciated! Unloved! Ah well, if you don''t know how to sew I''m sure Philipa or Eldis would be happy to teach you. It doesn''t take too long once you know, and we''ve got a sewing needle around here that the women swap around every so often. Makes things so much easier, no one likes doing everything by hand." "But you use a sewing needle¡ª" Nikolas began and stopped himself. "Right, that sewing needle. I see." So even the Llandrians knew to skirt around the mention of witches. But surely wizards could create an enchanted needle, it was just a matter of saying the right words was it not? He had to ask Guigo or Diase the next time they met. "What can I do then?" "You can get Mae and Anni their breakfast. Possibly Faila as well but I don''t know if she''s awake yet, she was up nearly half the night rehearsing some song or another." "You were up as well," Nikolas accused before he could stop himself. "Ah, yes, I was Nikolas, but you see, I have adoring crowds. I can do such a thing." Jaufre held himself in such high regard, thought Nikolas, and a part of him wished that he could have such confidence. "Alright, I''ll go get them. Where do I get the food?" "Can you make oatmeal?" Jaufre pointed to the barrels, "You can measure out a portion of oats. I''m sure Owall is already at the fire, that man''s up earlier than I am." "Right," Nikolas said, fumbling into his own clothes. He made to put on his pack but Jaufre stopped him. "Don''t hurt your back by carrying that around. Leave it here, who''s going to rob you, hm?" Then at Nikolas''s stone faced look he said, more seriously, "Thieves aren''t welcomed here Nikolas, you''re welcomed to leave your things here." There was a smaller pouch of coins that Nikolas decided to tie under his shirt. Jaufre had looked honest, and well, aside from his mother''s locket and the dragon scale, what was there to take from Nikolas? He climbed out of the wagon with Jaufre, who as it turned out, was there to help himself to some dried fruits. He tasked Nikolas with carrying the bag of oats to the fire. There he found Owall, who to Nikolas''s relief was wearing clothes suitable for the weather. "I''ll manage," Owall said gruffly, "you go get the girls up." "Why are you laughing?" Nikolas demanded when Jaufre started to chuckle. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "You are new," Owall said simply. "The girls would probably run you ragged. He''s laughing because he thinks it''s funny." "They don''t listen to you because you look foolish," Nikolas said brightly and relished in the stunned look on Jaufre''s face. The joke was on Jaufre, Nikolas had grown up with so many siblings that it was impossible to tire him. He knew all the tricks one can try to play to an older sibling, he''d seen it all before. So when Anni pretended not to find her boots and Mae complained that the sun was too bright, he knew precisely what to say. To Anni it was that if her boots did not appear soon then Jaufre would have eaten all the nice dried fruits, and to Mae he said the sun was only celebrating with her, because she was such a nice dancer last night. The latter was a guess on his part he had no idea if the younger girl did dance. More likely Faila sent her back to the wagon with one of the men or women. Those words did earned him a gap tooth grin from Anni and a shy smile from Mae. She held out both arms to him, and asked, as nicely as one could at that age, for a piggy back ride. He had to swallow back the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. Nikolas did not remember the last time anyone made such a request of him. Not since Felie and Ada, he thought, no one in Befeld asked him with such wide-eyed cheer. When he showed up with the two girls he was greeted with an incredulous look from Jaufre. Owall simply shrugged, "What did I tell you, the boy''s not you, Jaufre, he is competent." Jaufre refused to respond and Nikolas chuckled. The pot had been bubbling for awhile, so Owall started reaching for bowls and began spooning out portions. He was quite generous with the toppings, Nikolas thought. Or maybe it was that Faila''s troupe was well stocked, Nikolas had the choice between honey, dried fruits, and a golden brown syrup. "Maple syrup!" Mae declared when she saw him look at the bottle. "Maple syrup is good! You want some, Ni¡ª" she frowned. "Ni¡ªKas?" "Nikolas," said Nikolas. "Nikas," she agreed, and held out her bowl to him to pour in the syrup. He tried it himself, and had to bit back a very impolite moan of appreciation. It was like pure sugar, except not quite. Then it took all of his self-control to not lick the bowl. "You want some more?" "I can?" he blinked at Owall. "But you haven''t gotten yourself a second portion?" "Ah, we got ourselves a gentleman, Owall! Look, Nikolas, just eat, it''s winter, take the food whenever you see it, that''s what I say." "Stop tormenting the poor boy Jaufre and eat your breakfast." Eldis''s hair was hastily tied back and her clothes were rumpled. She yawned, covering her face with a ringed hand and sat down daintily. "Ah, porridge in the morning, what more can one want?" "Sleep," said Philipa, coming to sit next to her. "How was your first night here, Nikolas? We weren''t too loud for you?" Her jet black hair was in ringlets down her back, and when she sat down he saw that she had several bangles on her arms. They were of animals chasing each other, birds and dogs and horses. Possibly a stag as well, but he didn''t want to be rude by gawking. "No, you weren''t. I''m sorry for taking your wagon, I know I should¡ª" "Aw, so we do have a gentleman," said Eldis, and her smile was fond. "Nikolas, please, you didn''t take anything. If you do have guest, or, if you''re lucky, guests, let us know and we''ll make ourselves," she snapped her fingers, "scarce, just so!" "I won''t be having any guests!" Nikolas said, red-faced. "You know those who are very quiet are very deep inside," said Philipa and at Jaufre''s incredulous cackle she rolled her eyes. "It sounded better in our tongue, you know that!" "Can I help you with anything?" said Nikolas. "You can teach me how to mend things, I''m sure I can be a quick study, my sister says I''m good when I set my mind on something." The something of course, being anything but letters. "Why not?" Eldis said. "But wait until we''re done eating, hm? No one wants to work on an empty stomach." Then it took all of his control to wait. He knew there must be some uniforms in there, the chests were big enough, and Faila''s troupe had honey and maple syrup and dried fruit. They weren''t too concerned about money, and while it had been years since Nikolas visited a proper theater, there were plenty of plays that required a uniform. There were great ballads of heroes, and the story of how the world had ended and then reborn, and the great wars that was fought to form Icfeld. Faila must have some uniforms, he just had to be patient. "Nikas," said Mae, her very serious look was ruined by the jam and maple syrup on her face. "Where you from, Nikas? Where?" "Befeld," said Nikolas, deciding he ought to take the opportunity to remake himself. He was from Befled, and that rhymed with Icfeld enough for the normal person that if he acted like someone from Icfeld they would just assume he said Icfeld. "Very far away?" Mae continued. "Every thing is very far away!" Anni said suddenly, arms on her hips. "You''re so¡ª" Nikolas decided to interrupt before violence was had, "Where have you been besides Icfeld Anni?" This caught her attention, "Many places!" she sing-songed. Anni immediately launched into an incomprehensible song and dance of what Nikolas could only assume were the places Faila had taken them to. But he perked up when he heard the name Skapina. Well, what a coincidence. This day was getting better and better. His hunch was proven correct when Faila joined them for a late breakfast and he was hustled away by the two women. Eldis showed him how to thread a needle and the correct way to hem and mend the clothes. It was a repetitive motion, and she nodded approvingly when he managed to replicate it to her standards. They had only practiced on a handkerchief, and after much debate, the two women decided Nikolas could fix the underclothes, before going on to the much more delicate fabrics. "Sometimes we play for the Tsarina''s friends," said Eldis, "So we must keep these in top condition. She had opened the trunk to show Nikolas dresses and tunics. They were pale imitations of the palace clothes, Nikolas knew. The lacework on the dresses were a bit loose, like they were done in a hurry, and the threads on the tunics, on a closer examination, did not glint like gold. Probably because they weren''t made of gold like what the Tsarina and her court wore. But what made him grin, privately, was what Eldis uncovered among the clothes. They were the uniforms of the Rystars, all pale blue and with dragons twined around the arms. White dragons, so they were a royal Rytsar''s uniform after all. "Ah, those," Eldis said, upon seeing his look. "We don''t wear those." "Why?" said Nikolas. "We got our taxes to pay and the royal Rytsars don''t take kindly to being mocked," said Philipa. "I thought they only work for the Tsarina?" And he thought they were paid well, but from the looks the two women gave each other, the royal Rytsars were, as Brytha would put it, drawing water from other wells. "Money can make a person work for anyone," said Philipa grimly, and this time Nikolas had to agree that whatever the phrase was in her tongue, it translated well enough into Icfeldian. Book 2 - Chapter 14 Now that he had the uniforms he needed to find where Tino was. That was rather stupid of him, to not ask Tino where he would be. He frowned, trying to remember what Tino had said. He concluded that Tino told him quite a bit, all of which was about food and the fruits he was clearly missing from home. When he wasn''t working with Sanice he would be free to wander Prebovna, so he would be with his own people, if he was that homesick for their food and fruits. Unless he couldn''t pay in which case he would have to be in the taverns, that was the most likely place, though now Nikolas had no idea which tavern. Then he recalled Tino saying something about deals at the harbor shops. "Do you need any errands near the harbor?" Nikolas announced loudly. Then he waited, but no one answered. He''d since left the wagon with Eldis and Philipa, even though it was cold outside, the light made it easier to thread and work the needle. They were seated next to the fire for compensation though, and Erwing was roasting something over the coals. It used to have feathers, there was a pile in a basket next to Erwing. The pile of feathers were too big to be simply from one bird though. Faila had gone off with Anni and Mae, and as hard as Nikolas looked, he couldn''t see Jaufre or his hat anywhere. It was just Nikolas, the two women and the elderly Erwing by the fire. Troupers must live a very busy life, Nikolas concluded. There must be so many plays one must prepare for. He stared at the roasting meat and decided to try again, this time with a question someone would be sure to answer. "Are those pigeons?" said Nikolas. Erwing looked up, "You''ve never had a pigeon?" Pigeons were for delivering merchant letters, "No?" "Hm, the merchants have plenty of pigeons here so they sell off the excess," said Erwing. "They aren''t using pigeons nowadays, so there''s plenty of them to go around." "Not using pigeons," Nikolas repeated. "Why have a very dumb bird when you can have a smarter one that doesn''t just let anyone take letters from them?" Eldis remarked. "They''re just trading one problem for another if you ask me," said Philipa, biting off a thread with her teeth. "Koteks¡­ more trouble than they''re worth if you ask me." She glanced over at Nikolas, "Best stay away from them. They''re not normal, koteks. Some sort of wizardry made them." "I thought I''ve seen them before," Eldis remarked, "Little cat things with wings? Aren''t they native here?" "Yes, but not in the colors they make them here," said Philipa, reaching for a new spool of thread. "And there''s something off about their eyes." "Hm?" "Something human," said Philipa, "It''s not right." It was Surio''s pet, Nikolas thought, and leaned in, his interest peaked. But not too much, so he pulled himself back, slightly. "What do you mean something human?" "You see horses, and you see the odd animals we have around here?" said Philipa. "You can look into their eyes as long as you want, but there''s no way that you''re going to get proper understanding. But the koteks here, they understand you. It''s not right." Then in a lower voice. "I will pay for our drinks when Faila decides to pack up." "All of them?" said Erwing and he leaned in so much that his beard caught smoke and he had to jump back, frantically swiping at it. When he had sufficiently recovered he scowled at all the mirth thrown his way. "If it''s a bet, it should be made in good faith!" "And it is!" Philipa said, and she pricked her index finger with a needle and held it out to Erwing. "Here''s the faith!" He sniffed, and took out a carving knife, like the one Faila used to carve her wooden toys and made a similar, shallow cut. "Deal." "You two are the worst," Eldis sniffed. "Absolutely batty." "Oh, don''t you go telling us off!" said Philipa laughing and playfully nudging Eldis''s shoulder. "You would celebrate leaving this golden city I know you would!" Nikolas looked from one face to another and valiantly tried to guess at what they meant. His conclusion though wasn''t good. It seemed like no one was enamored with Prebovna. Was he the only one that was impressed with the vastness of the city? And all the inhabitants and their strange animals and merchandise and odds and ends. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. But he was getting ahead of himself, he had originally wanted to find Tino. Perhaps he ought to try again, "Do you know what route I can take to go to the harbor?" he asked, deciding to interrupt their conversation. "Follow the smell," Erwing grunted. "You''ll smell it before you see it." "The boy''s new Erwing, stop playing your games with him," Eldis reprimanded. "Did you see those dragons on the gates?" He nodded, because Tino had made it clear in no uncertain terms not to look into the eyes of one of them. "You see Prebovna has three levels, and there''s four gates on the first level. The one facing the west is where the harbor is." At his puzzled look she paused, "I suppose I can ask Posilo to show you where is it." "Posilo is busy with a performance," Erwing muttered, getting up on his feet. "I''ll take him, you two don''t need to be worrying, I''ll make sure he comes back in one piece." The way that Erwing said it, Nikolas was extremely doubtful. His doubts weren''t assuaged when Erwing was nearly ran over by a careless Llandrian driver and an overly enthusiastic horse. "Your father was a scrote!" Erwing shouted, picking himself up and shaking a hand angrily in the youth''s direction. It was probably wise not to ask what a scrote is, Nikolas decided. "Is it always this dangerous?" "No, they''ve just had a good season and were spending the money before the Rytsars get to it," said Erwing, and he scowled. "I told Faila to leave but she keeps on hoping she''ll get a final commission." "I heard about the Rytsars," said Nikolas, deciding he ought to see what Erwing thought of the matter as well. "Don''t be one of them, that''s all I''m saying," said Erwing. "No man worth his salt becomes a Rytsar." "My friend''s a Rytsar!" "Your friend was a rytsar," Erwing said, the lines of his face very prominent when he frowned. "There is a difference. But not by much mind." "You don''t like them." "A person should never hold a weapon on the orders of," here Erwing paused, and smacked his lips before deciding on, "someone who''s never held one themselves. Fair and square, you see? You tell people to hold this or hold that, you should also do it yourself. It''s like how Faila performed in a play before she ever came to lead a troupe." Nikolas suspected that Erwing would frown deeply upon people who paid to own troupes. Or sponsored them, like Brytha. It wouldn''t hurt to ask, "What if you are sponsored?" "Takes away your creativity," Erwing responded, matter-of-factly. "Can''t be going around putting on a play that would insult your patron or what she holds dear now can you? And with some of these sorts, the things you can say switch as fast as those fancy hats they wear around." This made Nikolas grin, for Erwing truly was a kindred spirit, "So you don''t like Jaufre''s hats either?" "It is not my place to stop someone from making a fool of themselves." That was a rather fun sentence, and Nikolas felt like it was something Aldeim would say. Speaking of Aldeim. He hesitated, then asked, "Did you know my father? I know that he knew Faila, but I don''t know if he knew you¡ª" "Do you think that all old people magically connect with each other?" Erwing scoffed, and then, let out a chuckled and waved away Nikolas''s flustered response before he could say them. "I do. Somewhat. Faila was the one talking to him, not me." "Was it when he was younger?" Maybe Aldeim had wanted to join a troupe as well, Nikolas thought and wondered if his father still entertained the idea. It could be that he did, he had all those maps in his study after all, they must mean that Aldeim did have more than a passing interest. Most of the maps weren''t even of Icfeld and its surrounding lands. He didn''t have one of Skapina, though, Nikolas had looked. "How young are we talking?" "I don''t know, did she first meet him when he was my age?" "Younger." "Oh," Nikolas blinked, and struggled to think of Aldeim as young. "How did you¡ª" "He was very talkative, your father. Faila was as well so I suppose they matched each other''s interests." He searched his mind for a time when Aldeim had conversed for a long while with Diase and came up empty. Nikolas decided the falling feeling in his stomach was due to whatever he ate at lunch. "They met again?" "Before your father married," Erwing raised a hand, "and before you asked, I will advise not to entertain ideas of what if he did this or what if he did that. Your father made the choices he did and it is on him to think about his life not you." Erwing''s words did the opposite of reassuring Nikolas. No, Nikolas was convinced now that tonight he would dwell on it. If Aldeim had ran off with Faila then he wouldn''t have married Diase and then wouldn''t have had such a miserable marriage and¡ª "I told you not to dwell on it!" Nikolas scoffed, "Then why did you say it? I wouldn''t think of it until you told me to!" "There was a play I was in a long time ago," said Erwing, "about our the previous Tsarina. Or was it the one before her? Anyway, they don''t hold those plays anymore so I don''t recall the name. But what is it is that she won his war because her enemy''s horse lost a shoe and tripped and crushed the woman to death." Erwing was a very strange man with wilder ideas, Nikolas thought, perturbed. Was this how it was like, getting old, that all your thoughts became jumbled together? "I don''t understand what you mean," he said, with complete honesty, for truly he could not begin to comprehend what it was that Erwing was trying to say. They were walking past the Llandrian wagons, and past the merchants bustling and hawking their wares. It was nicer here, because the wares were not food items and they wouldn''t rot. He also didn''t have to watch out where he was stepping. The last two hours he had spent listening to Eldis and Philipa complain about hems being ruined by the filth of the streets. "The horseshoe theory of life," said Erwing, "little things that shift here and there and create a tide of changes. Sometimes for the good but sometimes for the better. But it''s a foolish thought I don''t buy such a notion." There was something to the man''s cadence and words that reminded him of Aldeim. Of the nights his father had spent with him, and of that one night when everything went horribly wrong. He could smell the honey and the cinnamon, feel the warmth of the mug on his cold fingers. Or was it the warmth of his father''s hands on his? He shook himself out of his thoughts and blurted, feeling like the child he was so many years ago, "Why?" "They all point that the horse threw the other woman and then she died and because she died the war was lost and so on," said Erwing. "But that''s very simplistic. Wars aren''t won by one man. It''s the same as how your life isn''t made by one choice, but a series of them." Then why didn''t Erwing just tell him what he thought instead of leading him to such a convoluted dance. He decided if Erwing would be cheeky then he would be as well, "Such as choosing to be a rytsar?" Erwing scowled, "I''m going to be keeping an eye on you. You''re too smart for Prebovna. Ever considered academy work?" "Can''t, I can''t read," Nikolas confessed and blinked, surprised that it was Erwing he told it to. "A picture is worth a thousand inked words," Erwing said, and Nikolas flinched when the old man threw an arm around Nikolas. "Don''t worry, you''re in good company. Nikolas grinned, and decided to return the gesture. With their height difference it was a rather arduous task. "You can stop if your arm is getting tired," Erwing muttered. Nikolas refused to do so. Book 2 - Chapter 15 As Erwing said, one could smell the harbor before one could see it. Nikolas supposed he had been too entranced by the dragon on the gates and the crush of people to take in any smells. Now that he was familiar, and the crowd was thinning, he could smell it. Salt and fish and things that were left out too long in the sun. They must have been left out for a truly long time because the ice and the cold had some preservative effects did they not? "Where did all the people go?" Nikolas remarked, looking around. There were people, but they weren''t pushing and scrambling over each other like they did when he first came with Sanice. They were still in the nicer parts of town, the houses were brick, and their chimneys pumped out clouds of smoke. There was a warm fire inside, Nikolas knew, and a family around them. A family very much like his own, once upon a time. He resisted the urge to look in, partly because he didn''t want to see what his family used to be like, or to have the illusion shattered if he saw something... else. Deep in his head he knew, had the memories of the last day with Diase, and how she and Aldeim had shouted at each other. That was a thing he never liked to think about. It hadn''t been the raised voices, or the faces of his parents contorted into something he couldn''t recognize, or his siblings standing red faced and silence in the background. No, what made him jolt up at night was the silent carriage ride to his father''s home in Befeld. Their house in Befeld was made of sturdy oak, not brick, and the sight of so many of them, styled just like his old home but not quite... He swallowed hard, and asked, louder, "Where did all the people go?" "It''s not marketday," said Erwing. "Haven''t you ever been to a proper one?" When Nikolas shook his head he said, "You''re not missing much. The only day worth seeing in Prebovna is the festival. But they don''t host them that often anymore." The older man refused to say why when Nikolas asked. This made him frown, was it one of those questions that one had to rephrase to make it easier to answer? So he tried again, "Which festivals did you use to celebrate?" This earned him a grin, which showed three missing front teeth. "Now you are asking. They are all the old festivals before the Prophets had their new dictive." Again that explained nothing to him. "Did they not agree with the old festivals?" "Precisely," said Erwing. "And you should learn to ask your questions better boy. Didn''t Aldeim teach you? One should know how to eat and talk, to give and receive." If he were to be an old man, Nikolas thought, fuming, he did not want to be Erwing who seemed to dabble in riddles and rhymes. "What do you mean?" "Just means exactly what it means," said Erwing. "Eating isn''t just eating, you know. Didn''t you do it yourself when you sat with us?" At Nikolas''s befuddled look Erwing said, "When you sit down and eat with someone you share their table and you ought to be polite. I say ought, sometimes you don''t need to, but it''s the spirit of the whole thing. And if you sit down to eat and notice someone''s hungry, it''s only human to do something about it, is it not?" "I know what ''to talk'' means, you don''t need to explain it," Nikolas said before the other man could open his mouth. But a part of him didn''t mind, he liked Erwing and how the man set out the examples to him. Of course he knew his manners, but it was nice to know that he did do the right thing last night. He wanted¡­ he wanted to be welcomed. Erwing confirmed it. Nikolas swallowed the grin threatening to break across his face. So he wasn''t a complete useless fool. "Then explain what it is," said Erwing and when Nikolas opened his mouth to recite it. "And not with Aldeim''s words." "I don''t know," Nikolas blinked, now flummoxed. "I mean, you talk, right? So¡­ so you should be careful with your words and when to say them." "Right, and you have to ask yourself why you want to say the things you are saying," said Erwing. "Sometimes you want to ask a question, questions are fine, but consider, who are you asking them to? Would they give you the truth?" "Why wouldn''t they¡ª" Nikolas began and stopped himself. "I mean¡­ no one has lied to me before." That only made Erwing laugh, "Yet," the old man choked out, "Yet, young Nikolas, yet." "And you''re going to tell me that giving and receiving is about presents," Nikolas sniffed. "I know how to give those too, and yes, I know sometimes people don''t give you anything in return." "That is part not quite the full answer," said Erwing, but he didn''t sound cross or jesting. "It is asking you, what do you want to give to the world, and what you would like to receive in return." The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "From who?" Nikolas demanded, wide-eyed and nearly walking into a barrel. Erwing grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out just in the nick of time. "Depends on who you ask. I''m sure Jaufre would go on and on about his favorite patrons, and how much he loves to be showered in their affection, and what music he''s gifted to their ears and to the world." The man was avoiding answer it himself, Nikolas thought, and while he desperately wanted to demand ''what about you then? how would you answer it?'' he decided to swallow the question. It would be foolish to ask Erwing when the man had just given him a round about lecture on choosing one''s words. "What do you want then?" said Erwing, and he held out both hands, palms up. "You''re about the age where you get apprenticed and am looking for a trade. What are you looking to give and receive from the world?" "I don''t know," Nikolas said honestly, looking anywhere but at Erwing. The lanterns were being lit now, and looking down from the road they were walking on he could see the pin-pricks of light. "I don''t know. I... I want to do something. By myself. I don''t want to..." he shook his head, why was he confessing to a near stranger? "I don''t know!" To his surprise, Erwing gave him a knowing sort of half-smile. "That is a rather hard question you know. Most people go their entire lives without answering it." Now they were definitely near the harbor, there were the crunching of fish bones and shellfish under his boots, he could smell the cheap liquor, sweat and salt. Prebovna was not built on a natural harbor, he knew, and could recite it in his sleep. Prevobna was a dragon-made harbor with dragon forged walls built deep into the sea. It served both as protection and defense and had never been breached by pirates. Brytha''s book had stopped there so Nikolas didn''t bother to learn more. Besides, dragons were extinct, they all perished during one of the Great Wars. There were plenty of them, but after a certain time Brytha was no longer interested in learning about them. So he as a result, was never taught about them. How had the dragons even built the walls, they did not have hands. He scoffed, it was one of those questions he would never find the answer to. But this one he supposed, he could from Erwing. "Then why do you need to be taught this?" "Sometimes it''s good to have a think about your place in the world," said Erwing, cheerfully. "And if you don''t like it, you see, you can always pay to have said thought removed." He pointed towards the taverns for emphasis. "What does your friend look like and what name does he go by?" Apparently Erwing''s method involved going to one of the owner''s children playing nearby, a girl around Anni''s age and inquiring if she knew which tavern the men of the Mastachkas favored. When the girl made to frown, Erwing reached into his pouch and offered a wooden figurine, a little carved deer. Her eyes widened then, but she said, with all shrewdness. "It''s a mama deer, where''s the fawn?" "Clever lass," said Erwing, and with that negotiation finished she pointed them towards a battered sign with a bottle and sprig of rosemary. "How do you know she would know?" "Out of all the other girls?" Erwing shrugged. "Her mother owns the fancier tavern, didn''t you see the look of it? They don''t just come to such taverns by accident you know." "Is this like how Senice told me not to use scribes and write my own letters?" said Nikolas, deciding to test if he was right. "See?" Erwing''s smile was bright, "You are not so bad at this!" He threw open the door to the tavern and they had to duck as a flying shoe came hurtling towards them. "A fine establishment," said Erwing approvingly, making his way towards an empty seat. "Come and find me before sundown will you? Or if you don''t I will assume you''ve made your way back to our wagon." Then he waved at the nearest man carrying two pitchers of beer and shouted his request. Nikolas was left staring at the chaos in the room. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was indeed seeing two people fencing, and another three in a a brawl. One of the three was missing a shoe, the other one could only have just flown right by their heads earlier. Where on earth would he fine Tino in this mess? He glanced around, then decided a methodological approach was necessary. Table by table, he looked for the straggly hair and unkempt uniform and all too loud laugh. When that didn''t work, because there was nothing more boring to a drunk man than sitting still, he resigned himself to wandering table by table, calling out Tino''s name. By the ninth table he had given up, until a someone tapped his shoulder and he was spun around to face a beaming Tino. "Nikolas! What a¡ª" a loud burp, "surprise! I knew you''d come around!" "To where?" Nikolas said wryly, unimpressed. Tino only looked slightly cleaner than when Nikolas had seen him last. He''d taken a bath, that was certain, or at the very least, ran a comb through his hair. Maybe that was why Nikolas couldn''t recognize him, and he resolved to tell Tino that he either had to keep his appearance the same or inform Nikolas when he was going to change it entirely. "Guess who was so nice to spot me some coin," said Tino, and he pulled a surly looking youth towards Nikolas, "Ardich! The Goddess will be so kind to your generous soul!" Tino looked too drunk to walk yet he somehow managed an impromptu, forced waltz with Ardich. The other boy looked entirely unimpressed and when they passed a chair, immediately steered Tino to sit on it. The latter promptly collapsed face first onto the table. "Right," said Ardich, brushing off his rather spotless uniform. He gave Nikolas an embarrassed look, his face flushing red. He adjusted the collar of his uniform, and then held out a hand, "How nice to meet you, Nikolas. Would you like a¡ª" he stared at Tino, and Nikolas could swear the other man was snoring, "¡ª a less stronger drink?" "Should we help him back?" Nikolas said, rushing over and tentatively tapping Tino''s shoulder. "Is he really that drunk?" "Only a little," said Ardich pulling a chair and sitting down next to Tino. There was a half empty mug there and he sniffed it before downing the contents. "We can wait and if he''s not awake in, I don''t know, half an hour, we''ll help him back." There was a white dragon on his uniform sleeve, Nikolas observed, and, seeing as he did have plans with Tino to visit the upper levels of Prebovna, decided to probe a little more. He hoped the other boy didn''t divulge their plans, if Tino was this... uncontrollable then that would be a problem. Even he, as new as he was to the city, knew that there would be consequences for going where he wasn''t supposed to go. "Are you with one of Mastachkas?" he asked, all innocence. In response, Ardich shrugged and took another gulp from the cup in front of him. He flashed the sleeve in front of Nikolas and said, matter-of-factly, "Well, would anyone of them have this?" Book 2 - Chapter 16 After only two days in Prebovna Nikolas concluded that he didn''t like thinking over his words. He didn''t care what Erwing had to say over the matter. It was near impossible to find a topic that Ardich liked, the boy refused to talk about anything other than what was happening right in front of them. Then again it wasn''t like Nikolas had plenty of experience in making polite talk with anyone that wasn''t there to do business with Brytha. Ardich didn''t seem the sort to talk about weather patterns, or complain about how lazy one''s horses and drivers were, or about what sort of things he was bringing home to his family. So they sat there in a very awkward silence until Nikolas decided to speak up, because the last thing he wanted to spend his evening doing was to watch Tino snoring. He didn''t want to look too closely at Ardich. Firstly it would be very odd to do so, and secondly he did have a look at Ardich when the other boy had helped Tino into his seat and gestured for Nikolas to join him in the next chair. What he saw made him want to ask more questions than he knew would be sensible to do. Ardich was wearing the Tsarina''s symbol, that was true, so he was either a trainee or employed by the Royal Rytsars. But what puzzled Nikolas was the things he wore under his tunic that was revealed only briefly when the other boy swiftly adjusted his sleeves. Nikolas knew his animals, and knew the pelts that one could be used to trim sleeves for warmth and decoration. He''d thought that being at least employed with or by the Tsarina Ardich would have been provided with warm clothes but clearly that was not the case. The pattern of the pelt confused him. It didn''t look like anything he knew at all, anything from Icfeld that is. But he wasn''t a hunter, maybe you had elk or martens with such patterns. He looked around, trying to find a topic to discuss, there was nothing more stomach churning than a table gone silent. The brawl was still going on, he could have asked what caused it all, but that was a one sentence answer at best or a shrug of ignorance at worst. If he knew any of the odds and ends that hung on the wall, he could go into great detail about them. That was how Brytha would start a conversation, complimenting someone''s choice of decor even though she herself privately despised said object. Ardich stretched and yawned, putting his feet on top of the table. Then he cursed, because several things clattered to the floor, and he ducked under the table to gather the arrows that fell from his quiver. "Let me help," said Nikolas and together they picked up the arrows. Some of them had not been fletched properly, or perhaps were a work in progress. "Are you¡­ are you an archer?" Nikolas said curiously. The feathers were not the usual white or grey, the ones you get from common birds like ducks or turkeys or maybe even geese if you were brave enough. No there was a vibrancy to the feathers, though it was a natural one the blues seemed to fade gracefully into a purple, or vice versa. They were very beautiful, a work of art by themselves, and not at all like the outlandish feathers Jaufre wore on his hat. "Yes," said Ardich shortly, "Thank you." He took the arrows and put them neatly into his quiver. The quiver was placed on the table next to his feet. If this was Aldeim''s house in Befled Ardich would be leaving without the use of said feet, thought Nikolas. So Ardich was an archer, Nikolas mused. The only archers he knew in Befeld were the ones employed by the merchants to keep the local elk population at bay. Or was it bears? Either way he seized on the opportunity for a conversation. Not that he wanted to be friends with Ardich, not right away at least. Erwing had made it clear that he was no fan of Rystars with a capital R and Ardich would be one of them. Right now it was more important that Erwing knew Nikolas as a person before he decided to challenge the man''s idea of what a Rystar was. After all, as Aldeim would say, it was easier to change one''s opinion of a deeply held belief if it came from a friend. "What do you think of all the animals here? I haven''t seen so many¡­ odd combinations before," he kept his eyes wide and nodded, hoping it sounded excited and friendly. Ardich grunted, he took another long drink, this time a beer from a large mug he recently ordered. "I have no intentions of running a menagerie." "Have you ever been to one?" This made Ardich paused, and he put down his mug to stare at Nikolas. Then he took another drink, sloshed the beer around in his mouth before swallowing and said. "I lived in... with all kinds of creatures, why would I ever want to pay and visit a properly curated one?" "Really? Somewhere like Prebovna?" This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Ardich''s eyebrows furrowed, "Not quite like Prebovna. It''s to the n¡ª south. You probably haven''t heard of it. Used to be quite a major hub for caravans until the oasis dried up." He trailed off and took another drink. His mug must be surely empty by now, Nikolas thought, and twisted his hands nervously under the table. The implication was that Ardich didn''t have the fondest of childhoods. It must have been an unusual one, Ardich was not a name from the south. He must have been with one of those traveling merchant families. It was always a risk that a merchant would be lost at sea or on their travels so sometimes they made the decision to bring their families along. Brytha he knew, was strongly against this, as was Aldeim. ''That is no stable place to raise families'', his father had said, upon the merchant family''s departure. ''When I have my own family I''ll make sure to hire someone else to do the traveling,'' Brytha had mused. The two of them had shared a laugh that Nikolas had not been able to understand. "Do you miss the heat?" Nikolas asked, at a lost of what to say. Not for the first time he wanted to be Brytha, he wanted to just have her way with words and the people would like her, and she would smile and know that she was just perfect at finding the right things to say. Then he shook his head, furiously, because why did he want to make friends with Ardich that desperately? He was talking with Ardich only because Tino had introduced him to Nikolas and until Tino decided to wake up he had no one else to talk to. Unless he could find Erwing in this crowd and ask him if this is as good as an establishment as he''d declared. "I do," said Ardich and Nikolas blinked. "Really?" "There''s different kinds of heat," said Ardich. "There''s the kind that sticks to your skin and it''s all clammy, like sweating forever and never being able to stop. I don''t like that. It was different though, this heat. All you really need to do is cover your face when you go out, and at night," he sighed deeply, staring into his empty cup. "At night the temperature falls, sometimes very low, but the times when it didn''t you can go out and see thousands of stars, and hear the desert just turn alive, with all the creatures under the earth just burrowing up." "Is that the menagerie then?" "Yes," Ardich nodded his head. Then he cracked a smile, and it made him look less irritable. More friendly, more approachable, if Nikolas had to put a name to it, "They tasted nice as well, you can''t eat animals in a curated menagerie or it''ll be the lock up for you mister." Nikolas laughed and to his surprise, Ardich joined in. "Though I suppose you can eat rats. I don''t advise it, they don''t taste nice if all they''ve been feeding on are the scraps." "Do you have any pets?" Nikolas asked, and deciding it must be one of those situations where one should volunteer information as well. "My family only ever had horses. Pets were impractical." Not to mention they did have enough mouths to feed. Even if Viola or Sanna had wanted a kitten to pet and coo over, there were spells to get rid of vermin. A cat was an unnecessary expense. Even now he could hear Brytha''s words in his ear. But he wasn''t living under her roof now was he, if Nikolas wanted, and could feed an animal, then he ought to have one. "I do," said Ardich and it was Nikolas who leaned forward this time. "What is it?" "A kotek," said Ardich, "but she''s got a mind of her own. I can''t make her come whenever I call her." "She''s not like the Prebovna koteks," Nikolas volunteered. He was right in doing so for Ardich gave a disdainful sniff, "They aren''t real koteks, real koteks are capricious. They are part cats and should act like it!" Here Ardich gave a bark of laughter, "The birds should be thanking their lucky feathers that it''s not everyday a new kotek is born into the world. Think of all the nests they would destroy!" "How are koteks born?" "They have feathers, they lay eggs," said Ardich, and he took on the tone Nikolas recognized well enough, the one that said I know the topic better than you. "You saw the feathers on my arrows, they''re from her." "She lets you collect them?" "No, she gave them to me because I asked nicely," said Ardich and he sounded very proud of himself. "I may have met a kotek once," Nikolas mused, "but I never caught a glimpse of all the colors. They''re very beautiful." "You should say that to her," said Ardich, grinning. "Maybe she''ll give you one, they''re not all the same each time." "Really, how?" "I assume it''s like fur. She sheds them every so often when I see her she''s a different shade. Sometimes a different color. I think it depends on her mood but my¡ª I have been told that as she ages her coloring would change." "You don''t want that," Nikolas said quietly. Maybe it was best he didn''t have a pet after all. "No," Ardich agreed. "I know... I know koteks don''t live forever. None of us do, but she''s been with me for so long I don''t know what I would do if she decides not to show up. She is very clever about it you know, she always shows up whenever she thinks I need something." "That is very fascinating," Nikolas agreed and decided to maybe revisit his idea of having a kotek. Jozin had said they could deliver letters. If he had one then he had a fool proof way of talking to Jozin. He shifted in his seat feeling the warm dragon scale against his skin. "Not always. She brings me the oddest things sometimes. For some reason, though, I always would use it later." "Like what?" "A button. A... piece of charcoal. Flowers was too easy," he shook his head. "Does she deliver letters as well?" Nikolas said, trying to adopt Tino''s teasing tone. There was a flash of something in Ardich''s grey-blue eyes and he snapped out his next words, "Why¡ª" he clenched his fist, then relaxed it, "sorry, I was just thinking of the last time I asked her to do so. She used to deliver letters for me, she did, but then one day she didn''t do it anymore, no matter how much I asked or begged. I even tried to bribe her and she didn''t move a muscle. I tried tying it to her body and ah, yes, I still have the marks from her claws." "Maybe she doesn''t like the feel of it in her mouth anymore?" Nikolas suggested, wondering how the previous kotek had held the package that was delivered to him. It wasn''t wearing a knapsack, that he could recall. So he concluded it must have carried it in its mouth. "Look, I''ve seen her carry the skeleton of a wolf-mouse, S- she maybe many things but she doesn''t discern taste." Then it occurred to Nikolas, as one of those intrusive thoughts that he knew he shouldn''t say, was that Ardich''s kotek must have sensed that the letters would not be appreciated by whoever it was the boy wanted it to be sent to. Poor Ardich, Nikolas mused, whatever did he do to make the kotek decide that delivering a letter wasn''t worth its effort? Book 2 - Chapter 17 To his relief Ardich took over the conversation. "How do you find Prebovna?" Ardich leaned in, a curious sort of glint in his grey-blue eyes. Nikolas''s stomach sank again because he knew it was one of those questions. "It is very big," he said. "I know it was big but I''ve never thought about it until now. I told you about the animals. I''d like to see more of them. I''m¡ª" trying to find a trade, he wanted to say but decided against it. "I''m hoping to send a letter to my sister, where do you think I should ask?" "How far does the letter need to travel?" "Ah," Nikolas frowned. "In good weather, maybe three or four days? That''s how long it took for me to get here." "I''d ask a merchant," said Ardich with a shrug. "They''ll do it for you. But be prepared to negotiate the price, they always like to play sly and put it at higher than what it is. You are just sending a letter, not a package?" "Yes," Nikolas agreed, "just a letter." He didn''t want to say more, and he didn''t want to start running his mouth like he did with Erwing. Ardich didn''t feel like someone who he ought to confess a weakness to. Besides, he had only met the boy, what kind of person spills out their secrets to a near stranger? "How did you meet Tino?" Nikolas decided to ask. Tino was a neutral topic. "He asked me to pay his tab," said Ardich and there was a smile turning the corner of his mouth. "I was going to say no but I suppose I should do an act of good will every so often in this city, no?" Nikolas opened his mouth to ask another boring, safe question, mainly if Ardich liked hunting, or where Ardich could go hunting that wasn''t the Tsarina''s lands but then the door flung open with a crash. He jumped, and turned his head to look at the party that came ambling in. There were many kinds of walks, Aldeim had told him. There were the kinds of dignified, courtly stroll that showed you were a gentleman of fine breeding. There was the clumsy gait of someone who had no education whatsoever. At this he had frowned at Nikolas who used to slouch and shuffle his feet. But Ardich had moved on to say, that there was a final kind of walk. The kind that said one owned the place one was walking into and knew it. An arrogant sort of amble, and one should always avoid such individuals. ''Why?'' Nikolas had asked, expecting some sort of frown from Ardich at that stupid question. To his surprise Ardich did not reprimand him. ''Those kinds of people never mean well,'' said Ardich. ''Make yourself scarce in their company and hope that they don''t ask you for anything or remember you for any reason.'' The boy that walked in, for he surely wasn''t older than Nikolas, Tino, or Ardich, was simply... full of himself. He came in with an entourage of other men and boys with him, all shouting and pushing people aside to make way for their esteemed leader. All the boy needed was a ridiculous hat, thought Nikolas. "Robertz," Ardich muttered. "What?" "Robertz, he''s a right pain in the ass. Don''t look his way, the only skill he''s got is demanding coin." Robertz pushed his way towards the front of the tavern, and upon seeing the flustered barkeep promptly demanded, "You''ve missed your payment. One more and I''ll have this," he waved a hand, "establishment shut down." "Of course, Rynda Robertz," stammered the man, "of course I would, but you must understand¡ª" His words were cut off by Robertz''s fist coming down on the table. "What did you say?" "It is winter, Rynda Robertz," said the barkeep. "Not much happens¡ª" "Then what of the people here, my good sir? Why aren''t you making them pay?" Then to the crowd in the room, Robertz shouted, "Why are you paying this kind man hm? Pay him for keeping you all so entertained!" He punctuated the last sentence by throwing several mugs in front of the barkeep across the room. One landed on their table, and the splash of whatever liquid jolted Tino out of whatever stupor he was in. "What, wusshit?" Tino said, whirling around and nearly standing up before Ardich seized him by the corner of his tunic and forced him to sit down again. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "Shut up!" Tino frowned, but then when he saw Robertz he gave a sigh of resignation, "It''s him isn''t it?" Nikolas didn''t know what it meant until he saw Robertz''s party split up, and the men coming towards the patrons with open bags. Coins were forcibly separated from their owners, and if one was too hesitant to part with the metal, then a head bash was accompanied. Nikolas swore softly under his breath, patting around his belt. But he didn''t bring any money, he hadn''t been expecting to drink. The only thing he had with him was his mother''s locket and the dragon scale. The earth can part itself before he parted with either of those things. They were walking towards his table now, and Nikolas looked around at all the other men putting in their coins. Even Tino was fumbling around for something. What, Nikolas didn''t know because hadn''t Tino ask Ardich to pay for his beer? Instinctively he grasped at his locket and felt its warmth. No, he decided, he wasn''t going to ask Tino to pay and neither would he ask Ardich. "Give it up boys, that''s your tax for visiting such a fine establishment," said the man, and when he grinned his teeth was all black and yellow from chewing tobacco. He held out the pouch and the hand holding it was all grimy and filth. He wasn''t even wearing a Rytsar uniform. "Does Robertz pay you a fair share of that?" Nikolas said, and Tino kicked him under the table. "What did you say?" "I said," said Nikolas, feeling braver than he thought. "I asked if Rynda Robertz paid you for your fair share of work. Didn''t you collect," here he glanced around, knew he could count wrongly and the man would be none the wiser, "twenty tables'' earnings? Shouldn''t he pay you per table?" The man blinked, long and slow, as if it never occurred to him to ask Robertz to compensate him. The other men with him also frowned at each other. "You might have more money for a better uniform?" Nikolas suggested. Then, feeling a sort of confidence unknown to him. "You''ve got the bag already. Why not take your fair share?" "Fair share," the man repeated, then to his friends, he lifted the bag up and down. "How many taverns have we done this?" The two of them looked as if it was very hard to remember how many taverns they''d taxed. They took so long that everyone else had finished and Robertz came storming over. "What took you so long?" "This one said you haven''t been paying us fair," said the man, pointing to Nikolas. His voice was loud even as his thoughts were slow, and it echoed through the now silent tavern. Ardich let out a soft exhale as Robertz leaned in, all narrowed eyes and pointy faced. "I don''t remember you. Who are you? Pay up." Nikolas had seen Aldeim at his worst, Brytha at her most furious, and Diase at... her most broken. If Robertz wanted to intimidate him, he was doing a horrible job at it. "I didn''t come here to drink," he said, honestly. "I''m not paying for something I didn''t¡ª" He could see, as if time has slowed, Robertz reaching for his collar. It was a boy''s paltry trick, a poor attempt to pull Nikolas over and shake him down, like punishing a dog. But that was too generous, this was merely child''s play. If Robertz wanted to scuffle with him like a child, then Nikolas would like him to know that he had plenty of siblings and plenty of experience fighting them. It was just a matter of standing up, throwing out his hands and twisting his arms just so and Robertz was flat on his back on the tavern floor. "I believe," said Nikolas heaving a breath, why was the other boy so heavy, did he wear armor? How paranoid of him. "I do believe Prebovna is a fair city? I will not pay for something I did not partake in." There was a sort of stunned silence from the crowd, the kind of silence from people both horrified and in deep thought of what to do next. Then Nikolas heard Erwing''s voice, and it was a relief to hear it. "Did you hear what he said, boys? You deserve to be paid fair!" This was the final shattered glass, as the ones holding the bags of confiscated finery immediately made their way towards the door. "Wait!" Robertz shouted, getting to his feet. "Where are you going, you bastards, you aren''t supposed to¡ª" His words may as well be to grasshoppers and he turned to glare at Nikolas. "You!" "Me," Nikolas said, and he cross his arms and widened his stance. He had not done anything wrong. Technically anything wrong. He had refused to pay, Robertz had grabbed him and tripped, so there was nothing Robertz can do to bring him to justice. Unless everyone at the tavern declined vouching for him, but that was¡ª no, he had to stare Robertz down now and not doubt himself. "You''re going to regret this," said Robertz, pointing a finger at Nikolas face. It was close enough that Nikolas would go cross eyed if he stared at it but he simply kept his gaze on the spittle that came from Robertz''s mouth. It was funny how he looked more and more like the man he ordered to collect coin on his behalf. "What are you laughing about you¡ª" Robertz made to step closer, then his eyes caught on the necklace around Nikolas''s throat, exposed now from the tumble he had with the other boy. "A Voeveda." Then he sneered, "Your mother allows you to visit such an establishment? Pick your friends better next time." "I think," Nikolas said slowly, and he drew out the words, like Brytha did when she was talking to someone exceptionally slow or felt like treating them that way, "I think my mother trusts that I''ll keep the right company. Thank you very much Rynda Robertz." And he added in a bow as well, because nothing made such a person more angry than a bow, because it made their heads buzz that Nikolas was both polite and rude. Robertz returned the bow, as Nikolas knew, on instinct, and the look on his face was very stupid as he did so. "You won''t go far with that attitude." Then it occurred to him why Erwing was no fan of Rytsars, capitalized. There was just a look of absolute superiority on Robertz''s face, like he knew he was right and had always been told he was right. Well, Nikolas knew just the right thing to say for such a stellar occasion. He leaned in as well, and smiled because it was a nice feeling, smiling when delivering such words, "If I agreed with you, we¡¯d both be wrong." If looks were dragons then Nikolas would have been dead on the spot. Robertz gave an angry huff and walked out. There was a breath of silence, like pulling out of a dive before the tavern was alight with noise and activity. Nikolas was surrounded by people, a grateful barkeep, a jubilant Erwing and the amused patrons. "Thank you, sir," said the barkeep, making to shake Nikolas''s hand. "I''m no sir, I''m Nikolas," Nikolas began, flustered, before he looked around at the crowd, confused, "But he took your coin!" "A tavern man always has a spare coin around him, you needn''t worry Nikolas!" said Erwing, patting Nikolas''s shoulder cheerfully. "No, you gave him a good beating boy and he won''t be too fast returning!" Erwing declared. To the barkeep he said, "But you really ought to do something about those taxes of yours. Don''t have Robertz collecting it now." "I will try," said the barkeep, nodding his head gratefully. "If you do need anything, Nikolas, please, please let me know." "Is this your friend then?" said Erwing looking over at where Tino and Ardich still sat. Tino looked in shock, but Ardich had a look of... pride, if Nikolas had to define it. "That''s Tino," Nikolas agreed. "Ardich," said Ardich holding out a hand to Nikolas. "And I am open to changing trades." At Nikolas''s confused look, he gave a wink, slipped a coin into Tino''s hand and walked away, whistling under his breath. Book 2 - Chapter 18 They bid Tino a farewell as he headed off to Sanice''s house. Nikolas waited until Erwing was distracted and whispered in Tino''s ear, "I''ve got the things!" Then he said louder, so that Erwing was not suspicious, "You should come and visit me." "And spare you the bar fights? Of course I would!" Tino agreed and gave Nikolas a very... discrete wink. This interaction was entirely missed by Erwing and Nikolas was very glad of that for he was certain Erwing would take the gesture in an entirely different direction. The man was extraordinarily cheerful on the way back to Faila''s camp. Positively bubbling with excitement, Nikolas observed, it made him look years younger. Like Aldeim did, except Nikolas could not quite remember when his father had been this happy. "I didn''t know you had it in you, boy! Why didn''t you say so?" There were several loose cobblestones and Nikolas barely managed to step over them. He cursed under his breath, rearranging the packages he was carrying so that he could properly see his feet. "Say what?" he asked, hoping that his voice didn''t sound irritated or snappish. "You know, how you just took that Robertz by the collar and¡ª" Erwing made an imitation of what Nikolas did with his hands. The imitation was poor, Nikolas observed wryly. Mainly because Erwing had bought food, and drinks for the rest of the group and had unceremoniously shoved them into Nikolas''s hands as he did so. There were five packages, and Nikolas fumbled with them, his hands already full with three of the heavier ones. Erwing had bought all of it from the barkeep, though Nikolas suspected that the other man had been more than generous with his prices, and the selections he allowed them to pick from. He had spied a two cuts of preserved meat, some earthen jars of pickled things and several packages that smelled strongly of dried herbs. They were not cooking herbs, he knew, because there was the disastrous time Viola had wanted to try her hand at cooking and begged Brytha to get her the more rarer spices. It had resulted in a series of very expensive mistakes, Nikolas mused, chuckling upon reflection. Maybe this was a thing in Prebovna, that barkeeps sell things they would not use in their own taverns? It was odd, certainly, wouldn''t Erwing rather go to a merchant? No, that was none of his business, so Nikolas decided it was best not to ask anyone. In all likelihood Faila had some sort of agreement with the barkeep, something like her troupe would play at his wife''s tavern or something along those lines. He should not pry, Nikolas told himself firmly, he had done it once for today and while it was funny then, his humor had dried up now. This is precisely what Aldeim told him not to do, get the attention of such an up-start. "It was nothing," Nikolas muttered, thankful that after his impromptu demonstration, Erwing took back the packages. "No, no, it was something, I believe you''ve got decent potential!" "At what?" This made Erwing pause, and Nikolas smiled, because he knew the old man was struggling to think of a word that wasn''t Rytsar. "You should try your hand at the Camairan arts!" Erwing said and his eyes were alight with excitement. "Griuflo would say you''re a natural!" "How so?" said Nikolas, and he tried to keep his voice down. A natural? Him? At what? Erwing grinned, and made a shushing motion with his free hand, "I''ll tell you tonight. Remind me to, why don''t you?" "Right," Nikolas agreed. Erwing had a rather odd way of saying things, and when he was excited he melded his words together so it sounded something like ''ill tellu twoight''. A Llandrian accent, Nikolas guessed, Erwing sounded like the songs he heard floating through his wagon last night. Not that he was paying much attention. He had to speak to Jozin first hadn''t he. Ardich had a kotek, he remembered and his hands trembled in excitement. He had a kotek and maybe that kotek could be convinced. His friendship was Jozin was very solid after all, and he could save some of the cuts of meat for it. It wasn''t fish but it might do right? Unless some of the dried meats were actually fish, no one in Nikolas''s family was particular to it. Perhaps once upon a time, he thought, maybe one of his siblings had been. But as hard as he tried to remember who it was, their faces at the dining table were all a blur to him. Of course they would be a fog, he thought angrily, when was the last time everyone in his family had sat together by the table. "You want to see Griuflo?" "We can?" Nikolas raised an eyebrow, "Where?" He had not heard of Camair while Senice was giving out her introductions. "They''re not living here," said Erwing. "They do not do singing or dancing, no, the Camairs are by the healers'' wing. Very expensive part of Prebovna that, though Griuflo does come down here every so often." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "To hear Jaufre?" Nikolas said, and he let a teasing note into his voice. "No, to hear Faila," said Erwing, and he looked pensive. "Is he courting her?" He was only guessing, because the troupers had odd customs compared to his own. They sent their men out courting instead of the women visiting the man''s house for a prior introduction. None of his sisters had courted anyone. The closest one who had the money to was Brytha and she had expressed her disdain about the whole matter every time the topic had been brought up. When it had been Richan''s turn, well, he could only guess that Richan had been courted at whatever academy he went to. Erwing raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "She''s rejected him for years by now, but by the Goddess, I suppose I can''t fault him for trying." He had a very far away look in his eyes. "She has such a presence on the stage. She''s a natural." "You don''t?" Nikolas said before he could help himself. Then he hastily added, fumbling all his words and knowing his face was turning red, "I mean, I didn''t see you dancing or singing last night and you''re in her troupe but you draw so¡ª" "No, lad, what I meant is I have tried to capture her radiance on the stage and I''ve never managed to do so. Somehow the light turns out all wrong, or the shadows are either too soft or too dark." "That sounds interesting." "Oh, right, you did say you were interested. I could show you, if you''d like." "I would, thank you!" There was a pause from Erwing and he said, "Keep that cheerful tone with you, lad, enthusiasm has to be genuine in these parts." "It did not sound... genuine before?" "Just a hint from an old man," Erwing said, and he, to Nikolas''s surprise, gave him a wink. What was that for, Nikolas wondered, and hoped Erwing would not ask about it later that night. Tino was his friend, and nothing more. Then he rolled his eyes and decided that if Tino wanted to be subtle, there were more ways than such an obvious wink and nod. "Erl!" Anni was the first to greet them, hoisting up her skirts so she could run faster towards the two of them. "Wait, wait!" Mae was stumbling after her. They were dressed in rather interesting costumes, skirts that seemed to hold their form by the wooden hoops beneath them. He could hear the clitter-clatter of the wood as they knocked against each other. "And what are you then?" said Erwing. "We are Vi lie," said Mae, with the utmost seriousness. "Vily," Anni corrected sternly, "and we''re going to steal away Posilo!" "Steal away?" "Oh, you know," said Erwing, and he carefully held out non-breakable things for Mae and Anni to coo over and clumsily bring back to the camp. It left him with less packages than before and Nikolas had to curse his genius. "Wait, do you not know?" "Vily are capricious," Nikolas recited. That was all he knew of the matter because the only one in the family with fondness for fairy tales being read aloud had been Richan. "Precisely." "I still don''t understand what it has to do with Posilo." "Ah, never you mind then, you will come to one of our rehearsals and you will see," said Erwing. "But for your own reference, if a vila ever invite you to a vily party, or any party for that matter, you''re to say no. Politely mind you, the last thing you need is a vila out for revenge." "Why did the vila take Posilo then?" "A vila can take anyone if you accept their offer for a dance," said Erwing. "And they all look like beautiful women so I suppose it makes sense that many men are entranced by them. That''s how they get you. Never wander away from your troupe when you''re passing through a forest or a river or a cloud is passing over." "You are joking." "I am not." He opened his mouth to say that he had seen worst things than vily, those poor souls wandering the forest, but he knew himself well enough that if he talked about the shambling, skinless people he would blurt out that his necklace had done something about it. Given them peace, he hoped, but even in his mind''s eye now he could see the face of that little girl and how she had smiled at him before disappearing. "It''s fine to be afraid, you know," said Erwing, shifting the packages to pat Nikolas''s back. "Just in moderation, as with everything else in life. You don''t want to be the idiot that waits for a snake to bite you." Being under Erwing''s wing meant being submitted to all sorts of sayings. At least this one made some sort of sense. They were by Faila''s campfire, and for the first time everyone in the troupe was there. "However did you get these things?" said Faila, her eyes wide. "Oh you see, Nikolas has a way with¡ª" Erwing made a motion with his face, up and down. The wrinkles in his face must all have some meaning that only Faila could discern for she turned her eyes to Nikolas. "You don''t mean to say you came across Robertz Lione?" "Lione," Nikolas repeated dumbly. It should sound familiar to him, anyone with an animal in their name meant something. That was a cheat Brytha had taught him when he struggled over the impromptu tests his father had given him over breakfast. This cause Jaufre''s attention and he leaned in, "She used to be one of the Tsarina''s closest, the Posadnitsa Lione." Jaufre, for the first time he''d known the man, looked very serious. It was even even marred by the hat he wore. This one didn''t look like a bird''s sacrifice but an embarrassment of several chickens. Seeing this, the other members also came closer as well, so that they were all cloistered together around the campfire. Like children telling tall tales, Nikolas thought, but this one had a rather ominous feeling to it, especially by the way the light moved across their serious faces. "She was doing little projects you know, with the previous Tsarina," said Jaufre and Eldis let out a little gasp. "Projects huh?" Owall sounded grim, and he was twining his scarf around his fingers, again and again. Almost like a noose. "We shouldn''t talk about such things now," Faila said firmly, glancing up and waving for Anni and Mae to come over. "It is not wise to think about what was¡ª" "¡ª we must think about what is to come," said Erwing, and he reached for a pipe that Owall offered to him. There conversation swiftly moved on to Faila''s very loud complaints about the absolute state of lute strings, and how horrible the results of the commissions had been. Eldis and Philipa soon chimed in with recommendations for a new luthier. Then Jaufre commented that it wasn''t the luthier''s problem sometimes it was just the lutenist being unable to play. This remarked earned him several scoffs and a playful smack on the thigh. "I''m telling you, they would love the Tsar Lutenist! Not the vely story! No one likes the vely story!" "Tell that to Anni she''s been wanting to play as one for months!" "She can wait!" Even he had to grin at the antics. As he leaned back, accepting the food Owall offered to him, Erwing leaned in to whisper in his ear, "If you have any questions I have just the thing to answer them with in the wagon." Book 2 - Chapter 19 Jaufre was unsuccessful in convincing the troupe to rehearse the Tsar Lutenist. Instead they were putting on the vela story. He pouted and sighed deeply before relenting and standing up to give a hand moving the wagons. The troupe had pushed the wagons so that they were shielded from the view of the other Llandrians. Those that weren''t performing sat to the side while Posilo and Eldis walked to the center, hand in hand, presumably a couple. Then Jaufre began to strum his lute and Faila her harp, and the two girls nearly tripped over themselves to jump on the makeshift stage. They wore golden wigs and painted wings and danced around Posilo as he walked with Eldis. They were very good dancers, Nikolas thought, watching the two girls twirled and giggled and held out their hands to Posilo. From his seat with Erwing, he could see why it appealed to Ainnar and Maera. They were wearing pretty costumes, and all eyes were on them, this was their time to shine. It was like back home how Viola and Sanne had shown off their duets and solos at dinner. But then his heart froze when Faila started singing. Little sister, dear sister I have searched for you Over the mountains Where the wind whispers There was something about Faila''s music, Nikolas thought, breathing hard. Maera''s face began to blur and he thought he could see Ada''s reddish hair and toothy smile. Then Felie was there, and it was she that held out a hand to Aldeim and¡ª he took in a breath, as Aldeim took her hand smiling. She was, had always been too short to dance with him so he would prop her up on a chair or take her into his arms or put her feet on his. Then the house would be filled with her ringing laugh, and everyone, even Nikolas in his corner had to laugh too because who could not resist felicity? Of a girl with golden hair And a bright smile O sister, I have been looking For such a long while It was just not his father and sisters. Aldeim passed Felie to Richan to pick up Ada. Richan was throwing his head back in a laugh, winking at Felie before doing a kozachok with her. It was helped by Lianne who joined them, a lute one hand, pulling along Viola who held Sanna''s hand with the other. Diasa and Guigo tumbled in, laughing, taking both of Brytha''s hands to spur her into an impromptu troika. Aldeim turned his head, and looked directly at Nikolas and he smiled and beckoned a hand at him, the hand that wasn''t holding Ada. He had to join them. He got up shakily to his feet and made to walk towards his family, it was all he ever wanted¡ª "Nikolas! Nikolas!" Someone was slapping him, none to gently and when he opened his eyes again he saw Erwing and Faila both staring, both with concern and bemusement. "I apologize!" Faila began, "I didn''t know you would have such a strong reaction!" "What wrong with Nikas?" Maera said as she shoved past the adults to look at Nikolas. "Nikas?" "Don''t crowd him!" Erwing said sternly. "Come on, get up, there''s a lad. We''ll go get some water and you can have an early lie in¡ª" "But I want to¡ª" Nikolas blinked furiously. He could swear he saw Ada, and Felie, and... and his entire family! "I suppose you can''t play your vely song with Nikolas around here," said Jaufre and while he gave Nikolas a very sympathetic look, he was jubilant as he declared, "The Tsar Lutenist it is!" There were comforting hands on his shoulder, Eldis, Nikolas thought, maybe even Owall but he shook them off. "But I saw them!" "I said back off you hardheads! I''ll talk to him, now be off!" Erwing steered Nikolas into the bigger wagon, the men''s wagon and made him sit down. There was a strong smell of tobacco and soap, as well as a flowery, fruity sort of perfume. Every available spot was occupied, even the ceiling of the wagon had hammocks swinging from it. Nikolas rubbed his eyes and blinked away the tears. He had seen them, hadn''t he? He had seen them happy. "What did you see lad?" "What?" Erwing had lite a lantern and the lines on his face was set in a very kind smile. "Everyone sees something the first time they hear a vely song. It''s a pale imitation of the real one but Faila''s the best singer I have ever known." "That was a vely song?" "Aye, were you not... convinced?" Nikolas gulped, and accepted the water skin that Erwing handed to him. "I saw my family. I saw... I saw everyone. Why?" If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He knew what the vely did, knew that they enticed you with the things you wanted, but it was just Posilo with Eldis and Faila''s daughters. Didn''t the vely only tempt you with love? Hadn''t Posilo and Eldis been playing a couple? Why... He choked back a sob, and tried to pull away when Erwing threw an arm around Nikolas. "Love comes in many forms," said Erwing softly. His head was close to Nikolas''s and when he stared into the eyes of the older man he knew he must not be the only one that would be seeing things. "I have never seen this!" Nikolas declared, jerking out of Erwing''s grasp to point towards the door and where the troupe sat outside. "Why did I see it? Why was it so real?" "Some people are prone to suggestion¡ª" "I''m not a fool!" "I wasn''t saying you were boy! I was saying, you had an imagination that Faila''s song tapped into." "What?" "Faila sings and her song plays on whatever the audience dreams of. The bigger the crowd and the more imaginative an audience, the better her song." "You''re saying I see visions," Nikolas sneered, unconvinced. "You are a very stubborn boy," Erwing remarked. He crossed his arms, looked up at the wagon ceiling and then back down at Nikolas. When he next spoke his tone was soft and soothing, "It was a searching song, Nikolas, it was a song that asked the audience who it was they were searching for. Posilo and Eldis merely served as the audience surrogate. If you are a man, you see yourself in Posilo, if you are a woman, Eldis. They were dancing with both of the girls, and you just happened to focus more on Posilo." There was a long, solemn pause, "It reminded you of something." "Yes," Nikolas said flatly, and refused to look at Erwing. He took in a great heaving breath and closed his eyes. They were so close, his family, but now their faces were gone, vanished just as the song''s notes had. "I don''t want to hear another vely song again," Nikolas said shakily, "How do I tell Faila? It''s her¡ª" "We''ll make certain you are not there to hear it," Erwing agreed and Nikolas sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "You were going to tell me how to ask questions," Nikolas said suddenly, desperate from something else to think about. To his relief, Erwing was more than happy to humor him. He gestured for Nikolas to come to the leftmost corner where Erwing stored his things. Nikolas supposed he should have guessed, there was a tin of tobacco and a pipe, along with unfinished carvings and a battered looking leather file. Erwing flipped it open to show Nikolas a series of wooden carvings that came tumbling out of the pockets. "You see, these are all very recognizable stories." "They are," Nikolas said dubiously. The carvings were very small, and Nikolas could see that they all depicted scenes from some sort of story. The Tsar Lutenist he could recognize, that was the story Jaufre had gone on and on about. The carving of it depicted a handsome youth playing a lute to a wizened crone. "The Tsar Lutenist," Nikolas pointed. He frowned at the ink on the surface of the carvings. "Are you... are you using them as stamps?" "No, sometimes one passes out pretty stories for children," said Erwing. Then he smiled, "But other times. Well, no one ever looks closely at a child''s story. What question," here he picked out a series of drawings. The first depicted a man looking at three crossroads, the second a man on a horse with a full belly, the second a dead man on a horse and the third a man with a full stomach riding a horse. "You know this story?" "It is the quest of the three sons," said Nikolas proudly because he remembered that one. Richan had particularly loved that one when Guigo was born because that meant they were three sons. He hadn''t counted on Guigo throwing a tantrum when he was cajoled into recreating the story. "Right, but you see, this man has three choices he is making," said Erwing. He pointed again to the three pictures. "For a merchant wanting to find the best route, how does one go about cautioning her?" "So?" Nikolas furrowed his brows, staring at the pictures again. It was less embarrassing endeavor than understanding letters, but still he couldn''t quite make out what Erwing meant to say. "The man," Erwing began, and Nikolas expected him to slow his voice, and speak in the tone of someone explaining to a dullard. But he didn''t and he merely continued, "the man takes three roads. Who is to say the order in which he takes them is the same in the story she reads?" "Oh!" Nikolas knew his eyes were very wide, and he probably looked like the fish heads near the docks. But there was a spark of understanding, a spark that he hadn''t felt in years. "Oh, so you arrange them to answer her question and¡ª" he laughed, delighted. "That is brilliant!" "I know," Erwing was smug. "Can I look at your carvings?" "Why not?" Nikolas took a breath and let it out. "You won''t mind if I don''t come out? I don''t... I don''t know what to say." "Everyone has an odd experience with a vely song when they first hear it," Erwing said wisely. "Consider yourself ordinary, Nikolas." "Have you met anyone who hadn''t?" "That is a rather interesting question," said Erwing, and he stared at the carvings in front of Nikolas before rearranging them into a certain pattern. "I''ll leave you to it then," he said with a wink. "Don''t go running off to the harbor now. I don''t think Jaufre will think fondly of you when the wagon door flies open and you subject him to the cold. "I won''t," Nikolas agreed. This puzzle held more interest to him, after all and he barely noticed when Erwing left. There was a pot of ink next to it, and what looked like a rectangular inkwell, perfect for using the carvings as stamps. Jozin loves puzzles, he thought, delighted. This would be a brilliant way of sending letters without the hassle. Though, he supposed, he must start with a rather simple one. There were many stories of little boys he thought, and them going on great journeys. Perhaps he should start with that one. His thoughts were interrupted by a pop, and a sort of chirp-meow. Nikolas spun around wildly, searching for the source of the noise. Then he let out an astonished breath for perching on one of the hammocks was the little cat-bird, a kotek. It blinked at him with its purple-blue eyes and dropped to the floor with a thud, before fluttering over and settling on his shoulder. "Meow?" said the kotek, and then, "Ko-tik, kooo-tik!" "Are you... are you wanting to deliver a letter?" "Kooo-tik!" the kotek purred, and started grooming its paw. Nikolas carefully maneuvered himself to access his own things, and pulled out Brytha''s small book of notes to him. There were empty pages, because she thought ahead, so he carefully cut out a page with a small knife and made his way back to the carvings. After a moment of thought he also took some dried meat with him as well. The kotek gave a curious sniff from his shoulder at this, so he considered it a very well chosen bribe. "Right," he decided, and picked a carving he recognized. There was a boy and a girl, and a vela carrying a mirror. He knew very well the vela would shatter the mirror and the result of said shattering, but it would do for now as what he wanted to say to Jozin. Carefully he dipped it in the ink and placed it on the paper, then signing it with a hasty sort of scrawl with his own name. It was a simple message he wanted to convey, and he dearly hoped Jozin would understand. Our friendship started here. I hope to write to you more. He waved the letter around to dry the ink and looked at the cat who stared back, head tilted to the side. "Do you think," he said, very slowly and enunciating each word, holding out the dried meat as payment. "Do you think you can deliver this to Jozin? Jozin in Skapina?" The kotek let out a purr. It held out its tail and Nikolas tied the missive to it, careful of the tightness of the knot. Then with a flutter of wings and another pop it was gone. But not entirely. It left behind a singular violet-blue feather. Book 2 - Chapter 20 Nikolas had dreaded hearing another vely song, but to his surprise, none were sung in his presence. Perhaps it was Jaufre that convinced them, he was so insistent on that Lutenist story. Out of all the ones Nikolas knew, the Tsar Lutenist had to be the most unconvincing one. Mainly because it all centered on how a Tsarina ¡ª their names all blended together if you didn''t care to learn¡ª was captured in a war by an older and much more experienced Tsarina. The Tsar had then dressed as a lutenist to the old Tsarina''s court and charmed her so that when she asked him what he wanted, he asked for a companion, who just so happened to be his wife. The part that followed was incomprehensible to Nikolas. For the Tsar had then travelled back with the Tsarina still under the disguise of a lutenist and she had not recognized him. Upon their return she had then accused him of forfeiting her and various adulterous acts. To which the Tsar had donned the outfit again to meet her and she had then asked him what he wanted, which was her, as he then took off his disguise. "I don''t get it," he had turned to Tino, shaking his head. "He could''ve told her who he was all along." "Women," Tino had agreed. How Tino had managed to convince Senice to let him laze about with Nikolas he didn''t know. It wasn''t every evening, but Tino came to nearly every recital that Faila and her troupe held. Sometimes he''d even bring sweets for her daughters and odds and ends for the troupe, always something they could use. "I don''t think it''s women," Nikolas had insisted. "I think he could''ve just been honest. And she shouldn''t have accused him of such things." Why did they even get married in the first place? But that was one of those questions Brytha would deem ''rhetorical'' and ''argumentative''. A story was just a story then, but this one was definitely not his favorite. There was a part of him, a secretive, cobweb and spidery corner, that desperately wanted to hear Faila sing again. He knew Lianne, Felie, Ada and Richan were long... gone. But that night they had looked so real. They had sounded so alive. He dreaded seeing a real vely, and what hearing their song would do to him if this was just a glimpse of what he would see. At least Erwing kept him occupied with drawing the scenery for the play Faila would hold. They didn''t have all the colors, it would be expensive, but Erwing knew just the right combinations of crushed herbs and grit to bring out a dizzying array of reds, greens and blues. Seeing as Faila liked to do nature themed plays, it was enough. Nikolas expected to be disappointed, to see that he had no skill at painting either, but to his surprise he was decent. At least, Erwing declared that he was competent. "That''s high praise from Erl," said Jaufre, leaning in to watch Nikolas sweat and paint. "I don''t want your feathers on this," Nikolas pointed out irritably. Jaufre laughed and deliberately ducked his head lower onto the cloth canvas. Now that was another matter, Jaufre. The bard acted like an older brother, and Nikolas was not used to such things. He didn''t want an older brother. He only had the one and no paltry feather hat could ever replace Richan. Yet every time he saw Jaufre it sent a twinge in his chest. The other man had confirmed that he was Richan''s age. "Unmarried!" Eldis had sniffed, rolling her eyes. "How can I serenade just one woman?" Jaufre had shot back and quickly retreated from the towel she threw his way. Richan would be Jaufre''s age, Nikolas thought, casting glances at Jaufre from the corner of his eye. He would have been married and no doubt be one of the men taking their children to a play right now. He would have loved it, there was nothing Richan adored more than stories, and plays were just another kind of story. Unless he didn''t like children''s stories anymore and became someone like Aldeim, all closed off and cold. That too was wrong, from the bits and pieces that he gleaned from Faila, Aldeim was nothing of the sort. "Are you done?" "No!" Jaufre squinted, turning his head this way and that, "I do believe you are. How green do you want this bush anyway? I''m giving my magnificent voice a rest, why don''t you come with me to see the famed Griuflo?" "Arl said he would show me where Griuflo lives." "Erl refuses to see a doctor unless you''ve either knocked him out cold or broken both his ankles. Come along." "What is the Camairan art?" Nikolas said, carefully putting the paints away even as Jaufre tutted impatiently. "What is it?" The other man did offer to wash and put away the brushes, giving Nikolas the chance to properly hung the painted bush to dry. "Come, come!" Jaufre waved his arms like a windmill. "Hurry up now, Griuflo''s a busy man!" Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Jaufre was prone to exaggeration so Nikolas decided to take as long as possible getting ready. He should be wearing a clean tunic, so he put that on, and made certain he didn''t smell too badly of paint by using, to Jaufre''s horror, a tiny bit of the perfume the bard hoarded. "You wouldn''t dare!" "I just did," Nikolas said, grinning. There was no malice to the words, and Jaufre offered Nikolas a hand down the wagon. "You ever seen the Camairan?" "No." "Hm, you are not familiar with them? I thought you''d have surely gone with Tino¡ª" "I do not visit the seamstresses!" "I never said so! You assumed!" Jaufre held out both hands, placatingly. "No I thought he was Camairan and he would show you where they were." "I never asked," Nikolas said, and he rubbed his neck self-consciously. All he knew was that Tino wanted to eat fruits, and they could only be found in the upper level of Prebovna. That was a rather poor excuse to not know a friend better, but when he was with Tino he didn''t make the nice kind of talk to know people. He liked that. Maybe he needed a balance, Nikolas decided, next time Tino came to visit he would ask. Along with providing the Rytsar costume. That was capitalized because Ardich came along one day, not dressed in his uniform. It was tucked inside his bag though, so Nikolas had carefully traced out the pattern. A careful recreation of the drawing and some clever needle work and he would have a decent imitation that would pass the eye of any casual observer. "If you finish painting, I think Faila could pay you ahead to go to the Feast of the Dragon Star," said Jaufre. In Befeld they had simply called it the Midwinter Festival, but in Prebovna everything had sophistication and a name to match it. Nikolas already saw the signs of preparation for the festival. There were garlands being hung, the dragon statues with the jeweled eyes on each gate were polished to a shine and those who could afford it had little dragon statues of their own displayed. Not white though, no one would dare unveil an alabaster or marble bust of a white dragon. The Llandrians greeted it with the same excitement as one would an opportunity to earn more coin by not taking a well deserved rest. The younger among them were more gleeful, because that meant sweets handed out to the children, and there were whispers that the Tsarina herself would appear in a dragon carriage. "Is the feast worth going to?" said Nikolas, careful to not glance at the sapphire eyes of the white dragon as they passed under the gate. "Nope," Jaufre said, popping his p''s. "What?" "I never cared for it, it''s not the songs I would normally sing." "But you love singing!" "Nikolas, from one man to another," Jaufre slung an arm around Nikolas''s shoulders. "When you''ve got a talent for something you must cultivate it, like a flower, in just one particular direction to the sun. Any more and you''ve diluted things, the color''s not the same." "Singing is not like dyeing cloth," Nikolas said flatly but did not shake off Jaufre''s arm. "Right, but you see, I want to be a master at a particular song. I don''t want to sing all the songs." "So you''re a canary." "You wound me!" Jaufre held his free hand to his forehead. Then he said, in more serious tones, "But that is how a vely song works for people." "What?" Nikolas exclaimed wide-eyed. "They have years and years, multiple human lifetimes to perfect their songs. We only have the one. I do not wish to waste it chasing some paltry party song." "Right," Nikolas said, barely concealing an eye roll. Sometimes Ardich''s confidence knew no bounds. They were descending towards the lower parts of Prebovna, and the change was instant. There was none of the fancy cobblestones, and the stench was overwhelming. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of sweat, dirt and waste. They had sewers here, in this part of the city, but no one bothered to maintain them. Here there were no clear signs of the festival soon to be held, except for a flimsy paper dragon hanging over the doors of merchants brave or broke enough to do business in this part of the city. The dragon statue that hung over the entry was eyeless, and looked as if something or someone had smashed it with a hammer. There was even a bird''s nest on its neck. "Best not dawdle," said Jaufre, and he took his arm down from Nikolas''s shoulders to steer him with determination to a door painted in three stripes of alternating red and white. "Come along, or this place will eat you up, Nikolas." "You asked if I''ve gone there!" "I didn''t see how you look until now! Just the face of innocence you are!" Jaufre gave the door a brisk knock and when it was opened, pushed Nikolas inside. "Good morning," said the woman who opened the door. She was as dark as Tino, and her hair fell in ringlets down her shoulders. There was a red cloth flower in her hair and as she gestured for them to sit down, the her earrings tinkled merrily. "Good... morning," Nikolas said, breathlessly. For some reason this caused Jaufre to bark out a laugh which turned into a cough when the woman turned his way. "We''re here to see Griuflo, Ennadda," said Jaufre waving away her concern. "Nikolas here''s got some talent!" "Some talent?" Ennadda gave Jaufre, and then Nikolas a curious look. "Erl said it." At this she laughed, "How is Erl?" "Alive." Ennadda chuckled, and shook her head. The earrings chimed again, "Do tell him it was only done to see what was wrong with him." "He doesn''t see it that way." "What is wrong with Erwing?" Nikolas demanded. The old man had always been healthy, if his zest for shouting was any indicator. "He had a bad tumble is all, but the problem with a fall when you''re..." she smiled, "ah, why do I stop, he''s not here, when you''re old is that all the parts in your body decided to scream out all at once their problems. So Jaufre and... Owell was it?" At Jaufre''s nod Ennadda continued, "Owell took him over to us and Griuflo looked him over. It''s the looking over that most people find unpleasant. Then he taught him some stretches to keep his muscles limber and Erl''s all better now isn''t he?" "By looking over, you mean like a doctor?" "Something like that," Ennadda nodded. "He means to ask if that''s the Camairan arts," said Jaufre, tapping his foot impatiently. "That''s what Erl thinks he has a talent for, the Camairan arts." "Is that so?" She had painted lines around her eyes, Ennadda, and they made them all the more bigger and wider as she looked incredulously at Nikolas. "I will wait and see what he makes of you then!" Nikolas opened his mouth to say he didn''t even know who or what Griuflo would do, or if he was even particularly good at it. Then he saw Jaufre furiously making a shushing gesture and swallowed his words. "When is he coming back?" Nikolas said, and smiled his best imitation of Jaufre''s face after bowing to a crowd. Book 2 - Chapter 21 He had expected to wait in the same uncomfortable sort of silence with Ennadda while they waited for Grifulo. For one, he did not know much of plants, except for those used in dyes. He could smell them already in his mind, the sunflower petals, marigolds and dandelions for yellow. The berries of varying shades and sweetness for purples and pinks and reds. The peppermint and lilacs for green. The carefully strained dirt for shades of brown. None of these smells were present in Ennadda''s shop so he could only stand awkwardly to the side and watch her. She had two dimples on her cheeks when she smiled, which was once when Nikolas asked if it was herbs she was carefully removing from the wooden pressed. Her hair she had pinned up with a series of wooden pins decorated with little beads at the end. They, like her earrings, chimed merrily against each other every time she moved her head. She stood by a wooden table with several makeshift wooden pressers, used to preserve and dry flowers. "Can I.. can I help you?" There was a muffled noise from Jaufre and Nikolas turned to glare at him. Jaufre merely shrugged his shoulders, turning his back on Nikolas and wandering over to a corner where a chair stood. He made himself comfortable, pulling hat over his eyes and placing his feet on the small table next to him and rattling whatever contents was on it. "Be careful!" Ennadda snapped, eyes wide and abandoning her herbs to rush over. "Sorry, I didn''t realize you had a game¡ª" "I thought you''d have the sense to move the board!" "My apologies," said Jaufre tipping his hat in her direction. He made to reach for the board but she scoffed and took it into her hands. "I think it would be much safer here, my good sir!" Nikolas grinned. She walked back to where he stood in a huff, carefully placing the board on the table. Then she took the pieces of parchment that was wrapping the herbs and began carefully folding and tearing them into equal sized pieces. "I could help you," Nikolas offered. "But I can''t label¡ª" Nikolas began, because she surely must be the type to label her things, what with her taking right affront to Jaufre putting his feet on tables. Ennadda merely laughed, "What do you mean labelling?" He cursed himself for blurting out his weakness but it was too late to deflect now, so he decided he would do the next best thing and ramble on. "My sister stores things in jars, I thought you''d want to label them. I can''t help you I never really understood how she did it and it''s confusing to me so¡ª" "I have a different way of sorting things," said Ennadda, leaning closer to him. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. There was another very muffled choke from Jaufre. "Do you need some air, my good sir?" said Ennadda, hands on her hips. "No, no, I breathed in something funny is all," Jaufre coughed loudly, adjusted his hat and leaned back upon his chair. She scoffed, but took up a small piece of charcoal and began making little marks on the paper. They were shapes like circles, triangles, and in one case she took the time to draw a flower with four petals. When she finished a particular drawing she would frown, hold it up to the light and then adjust the thickness of the lines. Then she took some twine to tie back the herbs in individual bundles. Very neat and tidy he thought, admiringly. To be fair, the entire shop aside from the corner where Jaufre was now surely snoring, was neat and clean. "Why are they like so?" Nikolas said curiously, eyeing the bundles now lying "Do you have a method?" Ennadda glanced at him, paused, her lips pursing and then said, "Some of my customers can''t read, so it doesn''t help them if I were to write letters now would it?" She smiled, and patted his hand. "Not everyone''s got the schooling to do so. Especially not here." Her hands were very warm, Nikolas thought, and returned her smile with what he hoped was a genuine one. "That is very kind of you. I never thought of it." "No?" "I never went to the apothecary," said Nikolas with a shrug. "If there was anything we needed my sister would have asked an herb merchant for it." "Your sister the kind of person that knows people?" She drew out her r''s in a sort of twang that would make any dignified dinner party squirm in their seats. It was very charming, perhaps this was how all Camairans spoke. No, he could be wrong, if Tino was Camairan then he didn''t speak with the same accent. Though it could be Tino lived in the part of Camaira that was closest to Icfeld, if that was even possible. Camaira was a vast desert as far as Nikolas was concerned. Almost all of the wooden presses were empty, and soon they would run out of things to say. Nikolas bit his lip, his heart beating. Then his eyes fell on the chess set, and what Jozin had said to him. Well, it wouldn''t hurt to learn would it? "Do you play?" he asked, gesturing to the board. Her eyes widened, and when she smiled, it made the dimples on her cheeks all the more prominent. "Of course I do! Do you?" "My," Nikolas coughed, "my brother used to play with my father. He doesn''t like to teach us because¡ª" he swallowed, and then spat out. "But I would like to learn. He liked it, so I am sure I would as well." Usually when people heard those words, the words that signaled an end to something, they clench up, and gave one of those apologetic smiles. Depending on the person they would immediately excuse themselves, or switch the topic at such break neck speed it was more than a mere coincidence. He expected something in between, from his experience, there were only those two ranges of reactions. "I am sure he would," said Ennadda, and Nikolas exhaled the breath he didn''t know he was holding. "What was his name?" "His name?" "Oh! I do apologize! If your family isn''t the type to share, I didn''t mean to ask!" She held both hands to her mouth, and if she was as pale as his sisters, no doubt Ennadda would be blushing. "No, no, we''re not that sort," said Nikolas, shaking his head. "It''s just that our¡ª my father never mentions his name. I think... well, I think it hurts him to think about my siblings." He shook his head again and tried to think back on her original question, which was difficult because all he could think of was Aldeim with his wine bottles and an empty fire. "It''s Richan." "It must have been difficult," said Ennadda solemnly, and she enunciated each word. "Everyone says it, but it''s terribly horrible to bury a child." "Children," Nikolas whispered under his breath. "Children," Ennadda agreed. "Would you like to play? In Richan''s honor?" She gestured to the board. "I think he would have taught me," Nikolas mused aloud. Then he blinked, because while he expected that familiar sort of sinking feeling in his stomach, instead he felt a peculiar warmth. This was the same sort of jubilation he felt when he was about to leave for Icfeld. Or it could just be Ennadda, she might just be the only person he''d ever met that didn''t seem to despair of him not being able to read.