by TJ Muir
Jedda wasn’t sure if he had missed a turn, or gotten turned around, but he found himself further out on the road than he expected. His short cut had missed. He had come out by the small Beddo building that had caught his attention.
Jedda stopped by the side of the road, watching the small building. The very simplicity of the building made it stand out. It was a circular structure, soft beige stucco. Against that background a tree was painted in dark brown- elegant lines rising up, branching and spreading. The end of each main branch curled slightly, like hands-- pearly white balls of light nested in each one.
It reminded Jedda of starlight-- as if the tree had captured the stars. Or maybe the tree was where the stars were born and, like baby birds, they would take flight into the sky, take their places up in the heavens.
Curious, Jedda looked around to see if anyone was nearby, then edged closer. The tree wasn’t painted. Jedda was trying to see if it was carved out of wood, or if it was an actual tree.
A young man walked around from the far side carrying a tray of small plants and flowers. He was dressed simply, in the same dark brown and beige colors as the building. Not a coincidence.
“Greetings,” he said, with a warm smile.
Jedda thought the man looked too young to be a priest.
“Hells,” Jedda said.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? No matter how many times I have seen the Chatta, it always impresses me. Such beauty in simplicity.”
Jedda nodded, glancing back and forth between the building and the man.
“May we be of service?” he asked.
“Ummm,” Jedda mumbled, unsure. Now that he was actually there he had no idea what to say. “I’m not sure. I was told I am part Beddo. But I don’t really know what that means.
The man nodded and smiled. “And your journey has led you here?”
“I guess,” Jedda shrugged.
“What would you like to know?” the man asked, shifting the plants he was holding.
“I don’t really know. Who were, or are, the Beddo, anyway?”
“Not a simple answer to what sounds like a simple question.” But the man didn’t seem put off by Jedda asking. “Hold on. Let me put these down, and then we can talk."
Jedda followed the man around to the other side of the building into a small garden.
Looking around, Jedda wasn’t sure he would call it a garden. There were almost no plants or bushes in it. It was all sand and gravel and stones that created shapes and patterns. Plants were more like little bits of accent, splashes of green and color in pockets. The garden had the same serene simplicity as the building.
“Ummm,” Jedda began, hesitant. “What should I call you?" Since the man hadn’t introduced himself, he thought maybe there was a proper form of address he was expected to know.
The man laughed. “My apologies. I’m so sorry for my lapse. I’m Aldo.” He bent and put the tray of plants on the ground.
“My name is Jedda.”
“That doesn’t sound like a Beddo name.”
Jedda shrugged. “It’s what my mother named me.”
“So she was Beddo?”
Another shrug. “I don’t really know. I don’t remember my parents.”
“Well, surely you had a family? Brothers, uncles, cousins, grandparents?”
Jedda shook his head. Everywhere he went people seemed to have these networks of family. The So’har and Da’har, the giffryn among the Faenyr, and the clans among the Beddo. “Just me. Although I was adopted by the Faenyr.” He was proud he could say that. He did have a family now.
Aldo began to divide up the plants, arranging them in a low planter by the statue of a small boy. “For Nandir.”
“Who’s that?” Jedda thought maybe it was some rich family’s dead child.
“Nandir? Nandir Kan’la. He is Chayan’s servant. His job is to bring peaceful death to the old and sick.”
“But he’s just a kid.”
It was Aldo’s turn to shrug. “That is simply how he appears to us. He invites the dying to come play, in Chayan’s realm.”
“So, this is a temple to Nandir?”
“No, the temple is to Chayan, of course.”
Jedda blinked. He had heard of, prayed to, and swore by many gods. He had never heard of this one. “Which one is that?”
“The only one,” Aldo said.
“But I can name at least a dozen gods.”
“Chayan came first. Chayan was our god before all the others.”
“What does he do?” Jedda asked. He knew most gods had special powers.
“He does not do anything. He simply is.”
No wonder Jedda had never heard of him. Who would pray to a god that had no powers and didn’t do anything? But Jedda didn’t want to offend this priest-person by saying as much. “So, are you a priest?”
Aldo nodded. “Soon. I have been studying for many years.”
“Do all the Beddo believe in Chayan?”
“Of course.”
Well, this was going nowhere. “So, do all of you dress in those plain robes? All the other Beddo I have seen seem to like bright clothes and colors-- and lots of them.”
“That is because they are concerned with worldly things, and not things of the spirit.”
Jedda shrugged, unimpressed. He could sense Aldo was reaching the end of his generous patience. “It seems to me that the gods would be happy for all the bright colors and dancing.”
Aldo looked at Jedda and did a poor job of hiding his shock.
An older man appeared from inside the temple. Aldo looked relieved, as though he had just been saved from having to answer. “Here comes Manu. He is the senior priest here. A gifted healer and star-reader.”
Manu joined them, Aldo made introductions, and then bowed out, busying himself with the plants.
“Come. Let me show you around,” Manu said. He reminded Jedda of the elders back in Jynwyn. He led Jedda inside, pausing by a drawing, all in ink and no colors. “This shows when Chayan’s messenger gifted the Beddo with the tiqua, the forming of the sacred covenant.”
“What did he promise?”
“Our beloved god promised that those who kept the sacred covenant would return to the land of the gods.”
“So who was this messenger? Was he a god?”
“No. But as his servant, he spoke in Chayan’s name.”
“So what did the Beddo promise? What is it you have to do-- to go back there?”
“We must honor Chayan, keep his laws, and wait for the time of his return.”
The bit about the gods and promises was interesting, but the laws and waiting sounded boring. “So, what do you do, here?” Jedda asked, waving his hand to indicate the temple.
“We are here to serve the Beddo that pass through the area. We offer them guidance and healing when it is needed. And we study the stars.”
“Why would you want to study the stars?”
“Because the stars in the sky and the heavenly bodies are a map of Chayan’s divine plan. He speaks to us through them.”
Jedda wasn’t sure this priest was entirely sane. “Umm, okay.”
“By studying the skies we can know what will happen here in Chanmyr.”
“Like what? What kind of things?”
“When change is going to happen. When love might come into someone’s life. What work is needed to be done. And when these normal things may become disrupted.”
It sounded a lot like fortune-telling to Jedda. He had known plenty of them that could prattle on and make people believe all kinds of fantasy stories.
“We know these things because of the heavenly bodies, the planets. Each one has its own powers over us. And the moons also. See, for example, when Breshan is close to Jota, the big white star in the sky-- that means a change in luck. And soon, a new cycle will begin.”
“What happens then?
“The faithful will be rewarded.”
“And what about everybody else?”
“They will be
left behind. Except for the truly wicked. Those will be punished.”
Jedda wasn’t sure he wanted to know who the truly wicked might be, or what terrible things would happen to them if this Chayan god ever came back. He wondered if Chayan would punish Hak’kar. That would be worth praying to a god for.
All in all, Jedda found Manu a bit like the elders, very knowledgeable and reliable. But a bit boring. Still, he decided he might like to come back again and learn some more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jedda headed back down to Gherant’s workshop. He spent a while practicing the few spells he had learned. Gherant and Flint came in after mid-day, looking pleased. Whatever Gherant had to do must have gone well.
“Brass monkey. Flint’s buying.”
“Hey! Don’t be so free with my coins,” Flint said, but didn’t sound angry about it.
“Let’s go. Cider and sausage rolls! I haven’t had anything since breakfast and I’m starving.”
“How is it you seem to be hungrier when I’m the one buying?” Flint asked as they headed down the road to the little pub.
Gherant laughed. “You’re lucky.” Then he turned to Jedda. “You’ve got a real knack for flying,” he said as they weaved through the market square. “Another day of practice runs on the lower slope, and you could probably try a real flight.”
“Just make sure you’ve written your last letters,” Flint laughed.
“I haven’t killed anyone yet,” Gherant said.
“Yet,” Flint said. “Mark that, Jedda. Yet. The man likes to play with Nandir.”
“Nandir?” Jedda asked. He remembered the name but didn’t make the connection from what the priests had told him.
“Nandir Kan’la. The Beddo version of Death. The funny part is, to them, Death comes in the shape of an innocent child, luring the unwary to their doom.” Flint cackled as he explained this.
Jedda chewed his lip.
Flint slapped him on the back as they walked. “I’m just joking. If I didn’t think you’d be perfectly safe, I wouldn’t let you go up there with him in the first place.”
“Thank you,” Jedda said over his shoulder, as he stepped around a small cluster of people.
“Bahhh... it’s not about you. Who d’ya think will end up hunting down the broken flier and putting it back together again if you crash?” Gherant added.
Jedda laughed, really liking Gherant and Flint. “I’m so glad that-”
“Oh, hey. Look up there,” Gherant said, pointing to a bright patch of silk crossing the sky. “That should be Hawk, back from his distance run.”
Jedda’s heart began to pound. He wanted to race off and see if Hawk had a message or letter for him. But he didn’t want to seem too obvious about it. Besides, Hawk would probably want to do maintenance on his rig, break it down, and get it stored. Jedda closed his eyes for a second and forced himself to take a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Another breath. Patience, he counseled himself. He could wait through lunch before heading up to find Hawk. And if he detoured to grab Ashai, it would be a quick ride to the top of the Pindar Ridge.
He didn’t hear what Gherant and Flint were saying as they rounded the corner and headed across the small open courtyard toward the Brass Monkey. But he stopped short, as he caught sight of bright auburn hair. Kirrin.
What was Kirrin doing in Treyu? Jedda sighed, annoyed. He didn’t stop to wonder how the other man had found him. But why couldn’t Kirrin have just trusted him, and stayed in Jynwyn? He thought about ducking back and disappearing into one of the small groups of people milling about.
And then he took in the rest of the scene. Kirrin was talking to two men.
Gherant looked back at Jedda, who had stopped behind another person, where he could watch without being immediately noticed. “You coming?” Gherant asked. “You okay?” he asked, changing his tone, looking to see what Jedda was watching. He looked back and forth several times between Kirrin and Jedda.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Jedda said, distracted. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but people were instinctively giving the three men a wide berth, walking wide around them, casting looks back over their shoulders before hurrying on their way. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
Gherant and Flint stood there, watching. “You’re sure? Do you need help?”
“No. I think it is okay.” Jedda was reading colors. He saw a lot that confused him. There was friendship between the three, like brothers. But Jedda didn’t think these were any relations of Kirrin’s. And there was also anger or conflict going on- clashing between the two and Kirrin. But he didn’t see anything that looked dangerous. Or rather, the part that might be a danger was muffled.
He inched his way closer, trying to hear what they were saying. He edged to his right, staying out of the line of sight of the two men, one tall, the other with a beer belly.
“Where’s the boy?” Tall-man asked.
Kirrin shrugged. “Not here. Could be anywhere in the city.”
Beer-belly spoke up, “Don’t toy with us.”
“We both know how this ends,” tall-man said.
At that, Kirrin looked around the square, arms spread wide, indicating the crowds.
The two men glanced around, noting the people.
“You won’t have the So’hars protection here,” Kirrin said. “This is not Tatak Rhe.”
Beer-belly spat on the ground.
“And broad daylight was never your style anyway. Crowds? Witnesses?” Kirrin’s turn to spit. “You don’t have to do this. Of all the miserable things he could make you do. This was cruelty. Could you do it?”
Neither of the other two spoke. Beer-belly shifted his feet, an unhappy expression on his face.
“I never thought I’d see us on opposite sides,” tall-man said.
Jedda watched the colors swirl. Friendship and betrayal. Not a good combination. Clearly Kirrin had some connection with the two men. They seemed to be sizing each other up, and not really liking the situation. These were Hak’kar’s men. Kirrin had worked for Hak’kar for a long time. It was not a surprise Kirrin might personally know the men Hak’kar would send after them.
Jedda noticed a tiny shift in Kirrin’s expression, as he caught Jedda’s glance. Just a moment, acknowledgment. Then Kirrin focused back on the two men, disregarding Jedda. A stone cold look on his face, daring the others.
The three men stared each other down. Kirrin won.
Beer-belly spat again and grunted. He motioned for tall-man, and the two moved to leave. Tall-man paused right in front of Kirrin. Jedda froze, worried he might have misread things. But tall-man just stopped for a moment, face to face. Resentment, and regret. On both their faces.
Jedda had seen similar situations in the back alleys of Tatak Rhe. Someone wasn’t going to walk away from it in the end.
The two men shuffled off, but not without casting a few backward glances. Kirrin stood where he was, watching their retreat. He cast a glance toward Jedda without turning his head- nothing to give Jedda away- then scanned the crowd for any signs that the two men hadn’t been alone.
Jedda stepped into the flow of passersby, ducking back onto the lane near the Brass Monkey. The lane headed out of town, west, towards the Ridge. That might explain why it was a favorite with so many of the fliers. It was the first watering hole they hit on their way back to town.
Jedda tucked himself back into a stairwell, sat down, trying to look casual. He was pretty sure anyone passing by wouldn’t even notice he was there. But Kirrin wasn’t just passing by. He slipped down into the stairwell, glancing over his shoulder.
“How did you find me?” Jedda asked. “Treyu is not as big as Tatak Rhe, but still…”
“It wasn’t hard. I found Destryn where he told me he would be. He said you’d been flying or were going flying-- he wasn’t sure which. From there, it wasn’t hard to track you down. I presume using the flyers as messengers was your plan all along?”
Jedda nodded.
&n
bsp; “Actually not bad. Especially since a lot of the Houses, including Hak’kar’s, do not approve of these new trendy contraptions, as they call them.”
“Marrick assured me no guilded flier would breach a confidentiality.”
Kirrin nodded, glancing over his shoulder again.
“There’s no one behind you,” Jedda said, looking up toward the small square.
“There will be.”
“Who are they?” Jedda asked.
“Hak’kar’s men.”
“I got that bit. Someone you know?”
Kirrin nodded, looking away.
“They any good?”
“They taught me.”
That explained a lot. The conflict and distress on all sides. The brotherhood. Brotherhood of killers, Jedda reminded himself. But then he looked at Kirrin and all he saw was the man who had taken care of him, protected him. Kirrin had left everything behind, to keep him safe. Though that wasn’t entirely true, Jedda reminded himself. Kirrin’s life was forfeit just for failing to control him. That made it Jedda’s fault Kirrin was in danger.
That felt strange. He felt guilty for saving Kirrin from Hak’kar-- who was probably one of the most vile and evil people in the entire city.
Kirrin slapped Jedda on the shoulder, bringing his attention back to the conversation. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“What? No. Sorry. What did you say?”
“I said, we need to get out of here. Leave the city. Now. We have to get back into Faenyr land, where they won’t be able to reach us. Let’s just hope they have a harder time crossing the border than we did.”
All Jedda heard was that Kirrin wanted to leave. “I can’t leave yet.”
“Did you see those men? They may not look imposing. That is intentional. They know how to look like any dock working dousha. They prefer it when people underestimate them. They are trained killers. They are here to kill you, and me. That, in the quad? That was just a warning, a professional courtesy. But you will find a knife stuck between your ribs before you hear a footstep. Our best and only chance at getting out of here alive is to move now before they can hire anyone wanting to make a few silver to tip them off. Or do the job for them.”