by JF Smith
K. D. ~ 22 Waning Winter, Year 385 IR
Once he had worked out the words of the message, Gully began to puzzle over its meaning. It had been written during Waning Winter of only the previous year, so it wasn’t very old.
It was addressed to “C”, which Gully thought could possibly be Lord veBasstrolle himself since the head of the noble veBasstrolle family had the given name of Chelders. The initials K. D. had no familiarity to Gully at all and he was at a loss as to who had authored the note.
The content of the letter itself was mildly curious. It would make sense that veBasstrolle would be trading with the Maqarans since his fief bordered the Sheard Mountains. And it was unremarkable that he might be trading animals with them in addition to fruits, vegetables, and herbs. But the nonsense conditions the Maqarans placed on the trades were certainly queer. Brohnish had been right that the Maqarans were a strange people to demand these things for the privilege of trading livestock and wild game with them.
Gully dug down into the satchel to see if he could find any other letters or objects that might be of interest, but found nothing. He tossed the letter into the hot embers of the fireplace to dispose of it and settled back to sip his chicory, letting his mind drift back to the topics he and the peddler Brohnish had discussed while the piece of parchment burned to ash.
In all the years he had been searching, he had never managed to find anyone that knew or even recognized his father. Even given how he and his father kept to their cabin in the deep woods most of the time, they did go to the cities on occasions, so it seemed to Gully that someone old enough would surely recall him. If there were such a person, though, Gully had not discovered him yet.
It was painful to feel no hope for his father, and yet it was painful not to be able to give up on looking for him, either. If he didn’t search for him, then what was his life? Who was he?
We are all born somebody, Di’taro, but whom you choose to become is all that matters.
The very words his father, Ollon, had spoken to him on more than one quiet evening while he sat in his father’s lap in front of their fireplace cut into him. He had done what he had to do so that he would not abandon his father, so that he would not forget the one person who meant more to him than all others, so that he could remain the son of Ollon. That was whom he chose to be, and he accepted the good and the bad that went with it.
He leaned back in his chair and sipped the bitter chicory, letting the slightly woody, slightly piquant liquid rest on his tongue before swallowing it down.
One day, he would find someone who knew something, anything, about his father.
Chapter 4 — Dinner Under The Stars
The best thing that could be said about rain in the city of Lohrdanwuld and the muck and foul odor that accompanied it is that, regardless of how long it lasts, it needs must all come to an end sometime. Gully set the platter with the Grand Glenoval cheese and some dark bread on it down and looked up at the wide expanse of the sparkling sky above the benighted city. He lay back on the roof of the apartment for a moment to take it all in. The stars were brilliant now that the rain had drifted off to the north and the air had dried. The trickster moon was still occupying her wide swath of the western sky, only a slim crescent very dimly lit to no more than a sooty gray while the rest of her disc was almost a pitch black hole in the sky. It would be hours yet before the laughing moon made her appearance, illuminating the world below in her cold but vivid light as she dashed across the firmament. The only other light came from the myriad twinkles and sparkles of the variously colored stars — the constellations of the Iisen nobility’s lineage with the stars of the rest of the Iisendom’s people filling in the nooks and crannies between them. To the east, towards the Kelber Pass city gate, he could make out the dark outlines of Kitemount and the mighty Thayhold, and then Kelber Peak to the north. If Vasahle had already been out, Gully would probably have been able to see the top of the Folly’s castle from his vantage point.
Even in the best case, it would still be some time before Roald was relieved of his watch and allowed home, so Gully permitted himself some time to relax before going back down into the apartment to fetch the mead. In the dim light, he could barely make out the posts standing up on the roof of the apartment and could not see the taut cords running between them at all. Roald had mostly removed the few items in the apartment that belonged to his mother that were no longer of use, but the lines up on the roof where she had hung wash out to dry for others were left undisturbed.
Down below, on the street that ran past the apartment, Gully could hear the faint sounds of people passing every so often, or the clopping hooves of a sturdy half-mule bearing a burden when it probably preferred to be in a stable asleep.
Gully scratched at his palm and lay back. He had gotten his hopes up earlier when he found out that Brohnish had frequented the South Pass Road. The effort and time to reach East End by way of the South Pass Road and East End Road was almost equal, but most chose the East End Road since it followed the edge of the wood rather than plunge directly through its heart. The darkened woods of the South Pass Road were too daunting and frightening for all but a few. Gully had seen the infrequent cart of fruit and vegetables making its way to or fro along the South Pass as well, just as the peddler had.
But Brohnish had recalled no memory of his father. Gully couldn’t help but feel helpless that one day soon, if he found no one with a memory of him, he’d start to doubt whether his father ever existed in truth. Perhaps, as a child, he had merely conjured the man out of thin air.
It was a feather-headed thought and Gully put it out of his mind angrily. His father was real, even if he was the only person in the world ever to recall his face.
He had had the intention to stay in Lohrdanwuld a week to put a few more coins in his pocket, but now Gully resolved that he would leave the next morning. He would go back to the cabin, he told himself, to check on it, although a deeper part of his mind wanted to prove it really did exist, and thus did his father, too. And once that was accomplished, he would begin to search the northern half of the Ghellerweald with a more organized zeal than his few forays of the past.
His purpose renewed, Gully went to fetch a few mugs and the jug of mead.
An hour later, and still with no Roald, Gully allowed himself a small taste of the cheese. It was everything he had heard such a fine cheese would be; it was smooth and rich, with the cracked peppercorns it was made with causing the flavor to practically dance on his tongue. And once he had sampled the cheese, it was forgone that he would need to sample the mead as well. No sooner had he worked the cork stopper out of the glass jug did the aroma hit his nostrils. And it wasn’t just a mead. It was a plum mead, the scent of the fruit mixing with the alcohol and honey and making his mouth water. He poured a small amount into his mug and tasted it, letting the flavor of the fruit and the sting of the alcohol roll through his mouth and down the back of his throat.
He instantly put the cork back in the mead and pushed the platter with the cheese away. Roald must arrive soon or his willpower would fail him and his foster brother would arrive to nothing but a platter devoid, an empty jug, and a fattened Gully Snipe.
Gully was in luck that night, as no more than another ten minutes passed before he heard Roald’s boots on the steps leading from the street up to the apartment door. When Gully was sure he had reached the landing, he let out a brief, peculiar whistle that Roald would know was his so his brother would know where to find him. There was another wait of a few minutes for his brother to put his sword and daily armor away, and then Gully heard the boot steps again ascending the narrow stairs to the roof.
“I’m glad you whistled,” said his brother, “or I would have wondered what had befallen you today.”
“No chases in the streets today, and none of your fellow swordsmen got flipped onto their backs like helpless turtles, I swear to you,” said Gully.
“Aye, and such small miracles are always welcome!” replied Roald.
Gully said as his brother carefully made his way towards him in the dark, “Come! I have a treat for both of us tonight!”
Roald groaned as he sat down next to Gully. “Oh no, this can mean naught but someone has suffered a loss at your hands today!”
“I can tell you all about it if you like!” said Gully brightly, taking the opportunity to needle him a little.
“Nay! Stop! You know how I feel about that! So, what is it that you will make impossible for me to resist even if I suffer the guilt for days to come?”
“A little dinner before bedtime.”
“That’s all?” asked Roald suspiciously.
“It’s a Grand Glenoval cheese and a very rich plum mead.”
Roald fell back onto his elbows and looked starwards. “Oh, Bayle, how could you? I can’t begin to imagine from whom you stole these! Probably from the supper plate of the prince himself if I know you!” he grumbled.
“You said you didn’t want to know,” replied Gully as he poured Roald a mug of the mead.
Roald sat back up and took a bit of the cheese, “Mmmm... you’re right. I don’t.”
Gully waited as Roald tasted the cheese, smiling at the groan of pleasure that escaped Roald’s lips. “Forgive me, stars of my parents, but this is indeed something fine!” Roald sighed and added, “Not ten minutes ago I was on the top of the oratory tower, praying to my ancestors for their forgiveness and any favor they perhaps would show me. And now I enjoy a meal built on larceny! You will be my miserable downfall, Gully Snipe!”
Gully held up his mug to Roald in a toast and said, “Here’s to our ruin!”
Roald clacked his mug against the one held out to him and then drank the mead back. “And this! The plums make all the difference! Plain mead will hold nothing for me any longer!” he said.
Roald waved his mug up towards the sky and added, “My only hope is that Pelaysha interferes with our parents seeing and watching us in horror!”
He set his mug down and cut another slice of cheese and placed it on a piece of bread. He said, “I’m glad to be done with my post tonight. Until the trickster sinks behind the western horizon and the Sanctun begins, people will cause too much trouble. The rest of the Guard will stay busy tonight until Vasahle appears over Kitemount for her nighttime traversal.”
They both ate and drank in silence and Gully started to feel the effects of the alcohol, relaxing deeply. He broke the quiet between them and said, “Roald, I’m going to leave again in the morning, back to the woods.”
Roald sighed and tilted back his mug, finishing his mead in one long swallow. He poured more into his empty cup as he said, “You prom... you said you’d remain in the city for a week this time.”
“I remember,” said Gully, “but I feel the need to check the cabin and begin looking more seriously again.”
“Did... I say something to push you—”
“No, no, Roald, not at all,” insisted Gully. “Nothing of the sort. I... My father has been heavy in my thoughts today and I wish to look for him.”
Roald said nothing in reply, but quickly drank the mead he had just poured and filled his mug again with barely a pause.
“Is this the time when you will go away and then I never see you again?” asked Roald softly. “It is a day I fear will come, and dread it every time you leave.”
Gully replied, “Not if I have a say in it. I will be back, I promise you.”
“And I was hoping you would attend with me an interpretation by one of the elocutors at the oratory tower,” said Roald, disappointed. “Will I at least get to see you on your birthday in a few weeks? Will you come back to the city for that?” he asked.
Honestly, Gully had forgotten all about his own birthday. The day had never held much meaning for him. It was important to Roald, but Gully didn’t want to disappoint his brother with the indifference he felt towards it. It was easy to promise if Gully felt bound in no way by it. “Rest easy, I will be back in Lohrdanwuld for it. And this time, you can supply the Glenoval cheese and plum mead!”
Roald chuckled and said, “I’ll have to settle for getting you drunk on weak ale and then convincing you later that we feasted on Glenoval cheese and mead! But with the coronation of Prince Thaybrill that same week, there will be much festivity in the city. Perhaps I’ll be able to get a little time away so we can go to the Bonedown to watch some of the jugglers or troubadours.”
“You make it sound like we’re courting!” said Gully, his grin hidden in the dark.
“I...” stammered Roald, “that’s not... you know I don’t intend... now you’re making sport of me, Gully.”
Roald’s sensitivity over the way he was often would put Gully’s mood off, and tonight was no exception. He had to remind himself not to fault Roald for it, though, since he had no one other than Gully he had confided in about his nature. Still, Gully was a thief and would either waste to dust in a dank cell or hang by the neck if caught, and yet he cried no tears over it. Roald, on the other hand, broke no laws — scorn and ostracism were the most he would suffer for his “faults.” But that was partly a difference between the two of them; Gully cared little for what others thought of him, and Roald sought the approval and esteem of others.
Nonetheless, tonight was not the night to tell his brother to be a man and to stop seeking forgiveness for something beyond his control. Gully said, “I’m sorry. I’m not, really. I didn’t intend for that to be a cruel thing to say. You know well I’ve never seen you as someone to taunt carelessly.”
They sank into a silence again. Gully felt bad and truly had not intended for his comment to cut his brother. This time it was Gully’s turn to drink his mead all at once to soften his transgression. He poured again for himself and requested, “Roald, show me again the stars of your family. Show me to where good Astrehd has gone.”
Roald sat up and looked to the sky. He said firmly, “Our family, Bayle. Our family, our stars, our ancestors...”
“Our family, Roald,” repeated Gully, trying to make it up to him.
Roald moved over so that he was seated next to his brother instead of across from him. “There... directly overhead. Do you see the Trine Range constellation?”
Gully said he did, and he was honest in his answer. The Trine Range constellation, the ancestors of the royal family, was the most prominent in the sky. Some of the other noble constellations he might have been sketchier of in his knowledge, but the Trine Range was impossible to miss.
Roald’s outstretched hand and finger drifted down towards the east a little, towards the dark edge of Thayhold. “And there, do you see the Crown of Arguss? The constellation of the noble family veDaufone?”
“Yes,” said Gully.
“And next to it is the Swift Horse constellation?”
“Yes, I see it.”
“There... between the side of the Crown and the back leg of the Horse, do you see the three stars together, near the dark silhouette of Thayhold? They are faint, but you can see the three together.”
“I do. I see them,” said Gully.
“Those stars and the ones immediately around them are those of our family, Bayle.”
He added, “Every day, it is my sincerest hope that when death takes me and I leave this world, I will have brought enough honor to my family that I will be found worthy to join them in the night sky.” Roald took a bite of cheese and chewed it thoughtfully while he said, “I doubt it will be the case, but that is no excuse for me not to strive for the privilege anyway.”
Gully was about to argue the point with Roald, but Roald instead asked him, “Did your father ever show you his family stars?”
“No,” said Gully simply.
“No constellation? Any stars at all? Even just a single point of light, maybe?”
“No, he never laid claim to even a single star in the sky,” said Gully. “But then, living in the woods as we did, we did not gaze at the stars much.” Gully had known nothing of the Iisen religion until the day he came to live with
Astrehd and Roald. And if having any stars above meant that his father was now up there and that he was wasting his time looking for him in the world below, then he didn’t want any stars. Fortunately, Roald did not press the matter.
A streak of light flashed across the stars for a split second as they watched, and Roald said with interest, “Did you see that? The shooting star-send? I wonder who is the lucky one tonight whose ancestors see fit to send grace and strength down below to him!”
Gully might normally have called the whole thing nonsense. The idea that good people were deemed worthy by their forebears and chosen to join them as stars in the darkened sky to in turn watch their descendants and pass judgment on them seemed like so much flap-doodle. But he had learned years ago that Roald held to it all closely, and now even closer since his mother’s passing. It gave his brother comfort and hope, and for that if nothing else, Gully was willing to concede it had a certain value.
He wondered if that was why he turned out the way he had. With no one watching him, with no fear of long term consequences, he was free to become a thief with no concern for those whom he violated with his habits. It was liberating, but in the most ignoble way.
“Have you given thought to what I said last night?”
“Hmmm?” said Gully, pulled from his thoughts.
“Have you given thought to joining the Kingdom Guard? Putting your skills to a nobler purpose?”
Gully laughed at the idea.
Roald, now peeved, said, “You may be a thief, but that’s not cause to laugh at the fact that I want to do some good in the kingdom! That I want to serve the people and make the realm a better place!”
Gully stopped laughing. “You misunderstand me entirely, Roald. I do not laugh at you. Far from it! You do indeed make this city and this kingdom a better place, and I meant it when I have said the same in the past! I laugh... at myself! I laugh at the idea of someone like me joining — the scourge of the Guard becoming one in their midst! But more seriously, I find unpalatable the idea that I would set myself to serve the very class of nobility that irks me in so many ways... our ‘betters’ that look down on people like me, and even good people like you.”