This water-wealth also assisted the tilled, tier farming among all the lower river valleys that spread out from the city state. Several broad, dirt main roads spread out from the city, into the farming country and to the ports nearby on the coast. The roads were only paved brick or cobblestone within the city limits.
The large Bay of Thanarra was active with small wooden fishing boats with lateen sails, and larger merchant boats and barges with no more than two simple masts and square sails. Some of the vessels had oars. Each of the ships had eyes painted on the bows, or the carved wooden figurehead of a person or some kind of mythical creature.
Many of the locals wore conical straw hats with wide brims, called a thon. With summer waxing, Naero and her party intended to purchase their own thons in the open air markets. Naero found the straw hats quaint, with everyone below in the city bobbing and scurrying around in them, looking like archetypal wizards from one of Ty’s dopey vidgames.
There were only seven adepts on this mission with Naero: the Changs, from Order, Tenarra Fox and Kent Marshall, from Chaos, and Oshara Wallace and Timan Ramsey, from Change. They wore all of their gear, and carried plain, polished wooden staffs, slightly taller than their heads, as holy people often did.
Naero posed as a mediator, and that was how she would be presented. Her ocalo, or holy symbol was shining silver, which was sacred to the natives. Other than the Vaedo, most did not use gold and silver as money, but for adornment. Their coins consisted of copper, bronze, and even iron. Each adept had a small amount of money for their needs.
As they made their way down into the city along the paths from the caves, the first thing Naero noticed was the stink sweeping up toward them on the winds from the sea.
“Does it always smell this bad?” Naero noted. All of them could not help making faces.
“It is indeed unpleasant,” Chang Fu-han said. “But you will get used to it, after a few hours.”
“The lice and vermin are much worse than the smell,” Chang Lijuan added.
Screw that.
Tenarra Fox spoke quietly. “The more people, the greater the stench and parasites. Thanarra has a population of about twenty-thousand.”
“Vaedo has the largest, overall population–of about forty-five thousand,” Kent added. “Wait until you smell it–most of the Vaedo still think bathing is unhealthy.”
Naero blinked, still wrinkling her sensitive nose. “Can’t wait to go there.”
Oshara laughed. “It can make your eyes water at times. But since my last visit, I came prepared this time. I have some scented, nanonasal filters, enough for all, if anyone wants some.” She held out her hand from her pocket, revealing what looked to be several pairs of clear, tiny elastic bands. Naero and the others quickly grabbed for them. Even the Chaos adepts thanked her for her foresight and generosity.
“How do they work?” Naero asked.
Oshara shoved them into her nostrils one at a time. “Stretch them around the tip of your small finger, and then up your nose. The nanomaterial is activated by mucous and will adhere to the inside naturally and last for about a standard day.” The days and nights on Thanor-4 were roughly close to that.
Naero put hers in. Instantly, the air smelled much better. Not perfect, but much better.
“I have more if you need them. They won’t keep out the worst smells,” Oshara added, “but it is an improvement.”
All six of them thanked her.
“We need to talk about our procedures with food,” Chang Lijuan added. “The Thanes will offer to feed us on a regular basis, as is their custom with holy people. But their food can be both spoiled, diseased, and or often contaminated with local parasites. Our Spacer metabolism will protect us most of the time, but to be sure, use the pouch of salt and spices we’ve provided each of you with. Just sprinkle at little on each meal that you eat. It is a practice and a custom that most Thanes follow, and will not be noticed. Nanoenzymes in the powder will neutralize anything harmful on the food.”
Timan chuckled. “Too bad it doesn’t help the taste much.”
All of them but the somber Chaos adepts laughed.
Chang Fu-han picked up the instruction. “When you do eat, always try to eat something to please your host. If you really hate everything that is offered, simply state that you are fasting. The holy people do that on a regular basis, and it is also accepted, but be consistent to avoid offending. It is normal for us to drink wine or beer with a meal, but not strong liquor such as whiskey. It is a sin for a holy person to get drunk, and unless it is a high day or period of celebration, public drunkenness is frowned upon and, even punished by exposure in the stocks.”
They met more and more of the locals as they descended into the city proper. Most people ignored them. A few honored them by lifting both hands palm out, and nodding briefly with their heads. In turn, they nodded, and kept moving.
Skin color could be anything from stark white to pure black, dark gray, and various shades of brown and gold. Hair color varied as well–black, brown, red, gold–even white and blue. Eye color seemed to be black, blue, green, hazel, amber, or purple. Eye shapes were anything from very round to slanted.
Fortunately, their disguised Spacer translators worked perfectly with the local tongue. Naero could make out several conversations and even a few arguments, very clearly as they passed along.
The Changs kept theirs turned off, because they had already learned the native language–Thanorian–and spoke freely with any who engaged them.
Then without warning, an old woman came running out of a small stone house, her hair disheveled, tears and a frantic look on her pale, gray face. She shouted to them, almost in a panic.
“Holy ones, bless you. Please help me, by the gods, please help me!”
The Changs placed their hands gently on the old woman’s arms as she rushed up to them.
“Calm yourself, greatmother.”
“How may we help?”
“My greatson, he is not even three summers. He is sick, and he is dying. Please help me.” She pressed a small pouch of coins into Fu-han’s palm. “All that I have is yours. Please, please heal him.”
“Keep your money, greatmother,” Fu-han said, giving her back the coins.
“Take us to the child,” Lijuan said.
The panic-stricken woman turned and tried to run again, and nearly collapsed. The Changs supported her between the two of them.
When they came inside the small stone building, Naero saw a small boy with shaggy dark hair lying on a small bed off to one side. She strode forward. She alone among them had the healing sight.
Naero knelt and placed her hands on the child to examine what was wrong with him. He was sweating and chilled with a high fever, and he was very weak. He looked up at Naero, his veiled green eyes delirious.
The boy smiled up at her, and Naero ran her hands through his hair gently and smiled down at him. She tried to determine what was causing the fever, and found it right away.
Food poisoning. The child had eaten something contaminated. Left to itself, it would in fact take his life. He was also malnourished, dehydrated, riddled with worms, and had a slight skin infection on the insides of his dirty legs.
The little boy looked up at all the holy ones gathered around him and weakly laughed. “Look, gramma. The spirits have come. The spirits of light come for me.”
The old woman covered her eyes. “Save him. He thinks you are here to take his spirit. Please, do not let him die!”
“Not this day,” Naero said.
She carried the boy over to the chamber pot and stimulated his bowels with healing energy, causing him to vomit anything left in his system.
Naero handed him briefly to Lijuan.
“Fresh water,” she said. The grandmother poured some out of a water jar into small bowl and brought it to her. Just to be sure, Naero sprinkled the general spacer curative powder into the water. The all-purpose medicine, nutrients, and biotics would help the body heal naturally on its own, bo
lstering the immune system. It should also flush out the worms.
She made the boy drink it. He resisted weakly, but they got it all down him with a minimum of choking and spluttering.
The fast-acting medicine swept through the boy’s system.
Naero knew he was going to poop, pulled up his nightshirt, and held him on the chamber pot as he did so. The grandmother came forward and helped Naero clean him off and wash him up. Naero also applied a healing salve that should clear up the skin infection.
At some point, the boy nodded off. They wrapped him in an old wool blanket and put him back in bed. His color looked better and he was breathing stronger and easier.
Naero checked him again with her sight. His fever was broken, and most of the toxins were out of his system now. After some rest, he would probably wake up very hungry.
“He’s going to be all right,” Naero told the grandmother.
The old woman went down on her knees and tried to kiss Naero’s hands. Naero lifted her back up.
“I want you to listen to me, greatmother. The boy ate bad food and its poison nearly killed him. I want you to boil your drinking water on your stove, and bake, boil, or fry your food well from now on, but do not burn it. Use citrus in your cooking if you can. Feed the child more greens.”
“I will, holy one. I will do my best, but we are poor.”
“Are you here by yourselves?”
“No, thank the gods. My son and his wife live with us. This is their boy, and a little girl just born, that my daughter-in-law carries with her. My son works with the fishers, and his wife washes clothes on the shore among the rocks, and does sewing, and helps mend nets. I help out here as I can. We are poor, but happy overall.”
Naero examined their small kitchen in the one room home. Bread and cheese wrapped in old cloth. Some smelly fish, probably the source of the food poisoning. Naero sprinkled some nanospice powder on it, and some more in the water jar.
“We have done all that we can do and must go,” Chang Fu-han said. She handed the woman a few coins.
“Get some fresh food for the boy from the markets. He will sleep for a time, and will be hungry when he wakes. Blessings to you and your kin, greatmother.”
The old woman wept for joy and raised both palms, bowing her head in thanks. “Blessings to the gods and their holy ones. Thank you, thank you for helping us.”
They made their way out into the street, where a small crowd of people had gathered.
Many paid homage to them as they passed on.
“Thank you, holy ones.”
“Praise the gods.”
“Thank you, for helping Ama and the boy.”
They said nothing for a while.
Finally, Kent made a comment. “Was that all really necessary,” he said. “Look at the time we have wasted.”
“We are not having this same, standard argument, Chaos adept,” Oshara said, and then sighed.
“No, seriously,” Kent said. “What real good did we do? You may feel better now, but the infant mortality rate among the natives is still sixty percent or more. The same thing could happen to that boy tomorrow, and he’ll be just as dead, like others all over this city. What difference does it make any way, if they live or die? We should not have interfered. Let things be as they will.”
“No,” Chang Fu-han said. “A holy one here on this world would try to help when asked to do so. That is part of their purpose. They would not simply let things be as they are.”
Lijuan was quick to add, “and when we came here two years ago, the infant mortality rate was more than seventy percent. We have helped change things for the better.”
“That’s just it,” Tenarra said. “We’re fakes. We shouldn’t even be here, and neither should our tek–our medicines. We’re lying to these people and toying with them for our benefit, to make ourselves feel better about using their world for our purposes. Can’t you see that? We should just leave them alone, and whatever happens to them happens.”
“I see your point and your line of reasoning,” Naero said. “But I still disagree. If I see someone who needs help, or someone asks me for help, if I am able to give it, I’m going to do so.”
“Agreed,” all of the others said. The two out-voted Chaos adepts sighed and rolled their eyes.
The made their way through the city, bought their thon hats and some fresh dried meat, cheese, and fruit in the marketplace.
What Naero wouldn’t give for a borbble of Jett and a pod of Spum.
It took them another hour to reach the palace at the highest point of the city, well-defended and set behind high walls. They approached the massive, heavily guarded gatehouse, even though the ironbound gates and doors stood wide open, with many troops lining the way.
The leader on duty hailed them, and soldiers came forward to search them for weapons–male on male, female on female.
The veteran woman-warrior searching Naero got a bit grabby for Naero’s liking, during the pat down.
“Must you handle me in such fashion?” Naero said, trying to catch the flavor of the local speech in her protest.
The warrior woman chuckled. “Everyone entering the palace gets searched,” she said dryly. “No exceptions, even holy ones. The last group of assassins that attacked the palace all posed as holy ones. Before that–circus performers. Don’t flatter yourself, chicky. You’re a firm one, you are. But ya don’t have anything I want or need right now.” She winked at Naero. “Move along!”
They passed more soldiers, and squads of archers milling about. There was a stable in the huge courtyard, where they heard gults stamping and snorting. Guards were posted at regular intervals.
A male courtier or court official met them at the open palace gates. The palace also looked to be a fortress, and had a hexagonal wall with six high towers and battlements. The palace keep lay within, a four story structure with stained glass windows, starting on the third floor.
The keep was cleaner than any place Naero had seen thus far, but both it and the people in it still smelled, nose filters or not.
The palace bustled with guards and nobles, and servants, all scurrying about doing something.
They were led into an ante-chamber to the throne room and told to wait there. After half an hour, a servant brought them watered wine, and bread and cheese. Naero ate a little, but put her head down on the table and slept some more when she could.
After another half hour, another courtier came for them, squeezing through the door. He was a big, fat man with expensive looking robes and thick legs. His belt was wide and plated with silver, and his long karath dagger had jewels on the hilt.
The Changs brightened. They obviously knew this man. He also wore a silver medallion on a thick silver chain, with the graven image of a bear on it. He had a barrel chest, and an enormous belly to go with it.
“Lord Tholsen, our good friend,” Fu-han said, taking his big hands.
Lijuan placed hers on theirs and smiled together with them.”
“Sister Foon, Sister Lijoon. Wellmet. How are you and your brothers and sisters, this day? I see some new faces. Introduce me.”
Fu-han did so quickly. “Sisters Tenarra, Oshara, and Naero. Brothers Kent and Timan.”
Lord Tholsen shook hands with them all. “Wellmet, I say. Now, which of you is our new mediator?”
Everyone pointed to Naero.
“Bless me, she’s so young and pretty, and so tiny. I would think her a minstrel or a dancer–but surely not a mediator.”
Naero stepped forward and took both of his hands as if he were an old family friend.
“Wellmet, milord. I assure you, I will do my best in my situation.”
“Indeed. Let us hope so. We are ever in need of wise heads and patient minds. In truth, I am glad you have come. Our Majesties are quite beside themselves.”
“Say that it is not so,” Fu-han said. “What is the situation?”
“What can be done?” Lijuan added.
Lord Tholsen let out a great si
gh, as if he might deflate entirely. “Why, what has changed? No one wants to listen to anyone. Everyone seems to want to murder everyone else and rule everything. While we Thanes only want the constant warring and raiding to end–for the sake of trade, and for the sake of all. The Emperor of the Vaedo continues to play his bloody little games. He likes everyone at each others’ throats. The Kall have learned to trust no one but themselves and their mastery of their ships, and so therefore, no one can trust them, either. The Maedo are suffering more than anyone, these bloody days. Their position and situation is the weakest, and so they remain defensive and silent, withdrawing at the least insult or sign of aggression. They’ve withdrawn into their mountain forts.”
“So, as usual,” Fu-han said, “the four city states remain divided and at each others’ throats, constantly on the brink of open war.”
Lord Tholsen nodded. “Yes, that about covers it. The endless raids continue, but no one will make a move openly, in fear of the other three banding together against them.”
“A four-way standoff,” Naero said. “That does not sound good for anyone.”
“It most certainly is not,” Lord Tholsen said. “The stalemate must be broken, but everyone is afraid to do so, and risk making themselves a target for the other three to dismember.”
Naero considered the situation. She needed more time to learn the particulars, if the High Masters wanted her to take a crack at negotiating a solution.
She also needed more time to read more of the reports.
“As Mediator, I want to speak to the representatives of all four parties separately, before I meet with them all together,” Naero insisted.
“I can arrange that, over the next few days,” Tholsen told her. “In the afternoons, say around this time?”
“That will be fine. Who can I speak to today?”
Tholsen blinked. “Why…Their Majesties, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Just give me a moment, and we’ll be ushered in shortly.”
“Thank you, milord.” He slipped out.
Naero immediately turned to the Changs.
“Quick, what do I need to know about the King and Queen of Thanarra?
Spacer Clans Adventure 3: Naero's Fury Page 11