The afternoon sun shone brightly against the water, allowing Tair to remove her cloak as she paddled. The trees on the riverbank waved wildly, their limbs raining autumn leaves upon the hilly ground as a strong breeze cooled the sweat from Tair’s brow. She cast a glance behind her at Myst, who was dipping her oar deep into the water, her muscular arms seemingly at ease with the effort. Behind them, the skiff bounced along the choppy water with the other two narrow boats guarding either side. The younger children were huddled in the center of the skiff as the older children helped paddle. It was a beautiful autumn day and the children should have been squealing with pleasure, playing with the water or trying to find fast-swimming fish that would dart underneath their boat. Instead, they sat silently, massed together, ignoring the cooling spray of water that dashed against the front of the vessel. They were still in shock over the Zynnashan attack and Tair was quite certain they would be for years to come. She also surmised that they were apprehensive about their arrival at Joram’s Bend.
Tair knew exactly how they felt…
Baem’s Tavern was a two-story rectangular building that stood prominently along the main square of Joram’s Bend. The town truly wasn’t big enough for an establishment that offered twelve rooms for rent, but during harvest when buyers would come or during spring planting when the seeders would arrive to sell, the tavern was always full. This night, however, was in the middle of summer and there was nothing for the inhabitants of Joram’s Bend to do but drink and get rowdy. Well, nothing for Tair’Lianne to do, anyway.
Tair sat in her favorite chair, away from the front door with her back against the wall. The common room was empty, save for Baem, the owner of the establishment who was busy polishing mugs behind a long bar. Tair knew the mugs didn’t need to be polished. He was watching her – just like everyone else did in the Bend. It didn’t matter if it had been five years since she had last been caught stealing; it didn’t matter if she had learned her lesson and made her own coin working for the Almdor estate; it didn’t matter if she was polite to everyone she knew. Everyone in Joram’s Bend regarded Tair as a thief. Even Baem, who knew very well that she earned money from hard labor, gave her a shrewd look when she handed him the copper crowns for her drink.
Tair nursed the cool libation until it became warm. She watched a water clock that graced the mantle of a darkened hearth. She wagered with herself, betting on how long it would take for Myst to show up. Tair lost the bet on both counts as her friend stormed through the door shortly after, her eyes darting straight to Tair’s favorite chair.
“Well met, Mystrianna!” greeted the innkeeper. “Can I help to placate any thirst that might be troublin’ you?”
“Not tonight, Baem, thank you,” she answered, never taking her eyes from Tair. She stepped toward her with that familiar scowl. That frown that screamed, ‘my life would be better without you’. Myst stood over her, the crisp white linen of her summer tunic contrasting greatly with her bronze arms. Like most of her shirts, Myst wore it sleeveless. Tair often heard her friend remark that most of the shirts her father purchased for her in Kaalé were too small in the shoulders and arms. Tair always believed Myst was just showing off. A flowing skirt of yellow summer cotton came to rest near the neatly swept floor.
Tair suddenly became conscious of her own appearance. Normally pale skin sunburned from unaccustomed outdoor work; thick black hair that was matted with sweat and barely held in a braid behind her head; dusty brown pants that probably once belonged to a boy and a simple stained shirt of tan wool. Tair took a long drink from her warm ale, ignoring how bad it now tasted. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt and gave Myst a quick glance.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know why I couldn’t find you out in the storage bay, the one you were tasked to clean today,” Myst demanded angrily. “I want to know why Jes, one of my father’s favorite taskers, is now seeing Mother Tae for a broken arm and shattered nose!”
Tair stared hard at Myst for a moment, her usual aggressive spirit dimmed by something more foul. She recalled Jes’s hands on her, his breath, the way he smiled when she told him no. “Your father’s favorite tasker is no better than the pigs he slaughters,” Tair said. “He cornered me in the storage bay. I told him no, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Myst’s eyes widened in shock and then softened for her friend. Jes’s desire for the younger females that worked on her father’s estate was well known, but, as far as Myst knew, he had never tried to force himself on them. Tair smirked, nearly disgusted with the lack of understanding Myst had for her own family’s estate.
Myst quickly sat down and reached out to pat her friend assuredly, but Tair couldn’t care less. She was smiling wickedly, remembering the surprise on the tasker’s face as she jabbed her knee into his groin and shattered his nose with her elbow. When he swung his right fist, she had stopped it, neatly folded it behind him and pulled until she heard the wet snap. She kicked him in the rear and sent him sprawling before she ran from the storage bay. Jes was thirtyfour years old and was quite fit, but Tair had been fighting farm boys since she was a child. And for most of those fights - she won.
“Come with me and we’ll talk to Pap,” Myst pleaded. “The minute he finds out that he touched you, he’ll get rid of that…”
“He won’t get rid of him, Myst,” Tair said to her with an exasperated tone. “How many girls has he done this to? How many of them have gone, left the estate, while he stays safe and warm and innocent?”
“None of those girls said anything to Pap,” Myst said with an offended air. “And none of those girls were my best friend.”
Tair made a rude noise and then gulped down the last of her bitter ale. “Best friend? Is that me? I wouldn’t know since you’ve been spending all your time with Vettis.”
Myst tried to hold back an irritated sigh, but failed. “I am promised to Vettis, Tair, you know this. He and I both think it’s a wise idea to spend time with each other before we are married.”
Tair rolled her eyes and glanced at the water clock. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting him?”
Myst followed her gaze and let out a curse that would have made her father blush. She gave Tair a pleading gaze. “Just stay here,” she instructed. “I’ll go explain this to Vettis. He’ll understand. Then you and I will talk to my father. We won’t let Jes get away with this.”
“I’m not staying here,” Tair snapped. “Jes will be in here before long to tell everyone I attacked his precious sensibilities. I’ll go back to the estate and wait for you in my room.”
Myst nodded as she stood. “Perfect,” she smiled reassuringly. “I will meet you there. Don’t do anything foolish. Avoid Jes and we’ll get this straightened out. My father may not like you all that much, but he hates what people like Jes do even more. The minute he knows the truth, he’ll have Jes thrown off the plantation – if not flogged.”
Tair smiled at her friend, feeling that, for once, things might turn out just fine.
An hour later, her best friend’s father had her arrested for finding three-hundred gold crowns that had somehow found their way from the town treasury into a burlap sack underneath the bed she slept in on the Almdor estate…
Tair suddenly felt a splash of cold water on her back. She jumped and turned to see Myst with a concerned gaze. “Your pace is slipping,” she said. “Are you feeling ill?”
“We’ve nearly reached the town that accused me of stealing everyone’s gold,” Tair muttered. “Of course I’m feeling ill.”
“Everything will work out,” Myst said cheerily. “My father will not refuse to aid children.”
“Only their friends,” Tair mumbled, thrusting her oar back into the water.
Myst watched her friend turn back to her task and her smile faded. She didn’t have the heart to admit that Tair was right…
She stood on the veranda that hugged the back end of Almdor Manor. The swirled marble of the porch felt cool to Myst’s bare feet. The
sun had vanished, taking with it the summer heat and making way for the stars to glow fiercely, allowing the mortals to worship their beauty. Myst leaned against the intricately designed metal fence that framed the columned veranda, hoping her father would soon return.
The Almdor estate was perched upon the highest ledge of Joram’s Bend, overlooking their farmlands to the north of the Tebis’non. Across the rushing water, Myst could see the moonflies dancing along the rows of summer grain, their blue bodies flashing in a peaceful rhythm. She sighed impatiently, brushing a strand of red hair from her face. She should be out enjoying the summer night with Tair. Instead, she once again found herself waiting for her father to ask him to help Tair get out of whatever trouble she was in.
She was in a manure cart full of it, this time.
Myst did not believe for one second that Tair had broken into the town treasury. She just wasn’t that foolish. Even if Tair had stolen the crowns; she would not have been dumb enough to hide them under her own bed. No, Myst was quite certain Tair had been set up to take the blame.
The door leading into the manor opened and closed softly. Myst turned to see her betrothed step toward her, his smile a forced one. Vettis Hillden was a tall, handsome man; muscular from his years of farming his family’s eastern acres. His wavy brown hair seemed to be everywhere at once, hanging low over soft brown eyes. Myst found him pleasing to look at and he was charming when he wanted to be. But Vettis Hillden also knew he was desired by every female in Joram’s Bend that could entertain such thoughts. His family was wealthy and he was highly educated for a farmer’s son. These attributes gave Vettis a confident attitude that strayed to arrogance more often than Myst liked. It was this hint of callous nobility that stayed Myst’s hand for matrimony.
Vettis reached out and grasped her strong hand, the hand of a farmer’s daughter. He sucked air in between his teeth and shook his head. “I cannot believe she has stooped so low, dragging you and your father into this mess by hiding her crime on your property.”
“Tair did not do this, Vettis,” Myst told him. “She couldn’t have.”
“I understand she’s your friend, but you cannot defend her behavior forever, my dear.”
“You’re not listening to me,” Myst said irritably. “Stealing three-hundred gold crowns from the Bend’s treasury is not her behavior!”
Vettis shrugged his shoulders and smiled apologetically, an action that felt condescending to Myst. “The missing coin was found where she sleeps.”
“That is not proof that she took it,” she said with more intensity. She pulled her hand away from her betrothed and searched his beautiful eyes for…what? Understanding? Belief? “Anyone could have placed that coin there,” she said coldly, finding nothing in Vettis’ gaze but sad pity. This sparked a flurry of angry retorts that Myst held in check; sullen rebukes about how stubborn men folk are and how they refused to take a woman’s word for…
“Jes,” she said quietly, shocked at herself for not thinking of it sooner.
“I did not hear you, my love,” Vettis said leaning closer.
Myst looked up at him, her anger gone in a flash as this new revelation became focused. “Tair was at Baem’s earlier today. She told me that Jes had given her unwanted attention and when he forcefully pressed her, she defended herself and left him battered. Is it not possible that he stole the crowns and left them under Tair’s bed to discount her credibility and remove her at the same time?”
This was such a plausible explanation that Myst did not see the small shake of Vettis’ head or the firm line of his jaw.
“I must find my father,” Myst said, turning toward the manor.
She was shocked to see her father already standing in the shadows of the columned portico. His large arms were crossed against his barrel-like chest, his sandaled feet set wide apart. Torvel Almdor wore his brown hair short – like most farmers in the Bend. His deep set eyes were a stormy blue, his heavy brow lowered against them. A broad frown rode upon a wide jaw. Myst had seen her father like this before. This obdurate stance was a sign that he was digging in, ready for the battle he was to have with his daughter.
“Pap!” she called. “Have you heard what’s been said? I believe Jes has…”
“Jes is still with Mother Tae and he has told me what happened,” Torvel said with a reproachful tone.
“That he attacked Tair?”
Torvel let out a long sigh, a sign that he was not pleased with what his daughter was insinuating. “He tried to stop Tair, my daughter. She told him of her intentions, asking him if he would like to help. He attempted to talk her out of her actions, to which your friend rejected with a violent attack.”
Myst stared at her father as though he were a stranger. Did he hate Tair so much that he was willing to believe any unkind word against her? She felt tears well up, threatening to spill – not over the fact that her pap did not believe her, but that this giant of a man whom she had looked up to all of her short life, was so gullible. She had to believe he was susceptible to Jes’s version of the story, that he trusted his farm hand unerringly. Any other way, and it would mean her father was intentionally allowing this to happen to Tair.
“Pap,” she pleaded. “Tair would not…”
“You are a good and trusting young woman, Myst,” her father said sadly. “And I am afraid that Tair’Lianne has been taking advantage of your trust…of our trust for many seasons. I am angry that she has taken what was not hers, but I am enraged at how she has abused my daughter’s love.”
“But, father…”
“I will hear no more of it, Mystrianna. Tair will remain in custody until she is judged by the village council,” he told her. “From there she will be taken to the Fhaalvak Outpost where she will await the King’s judgment.”
Myst felt Vettis’s hands upon her shoulders, firm and supportive. “It’s best to let her go down the path she has chosen,” he said softly. “There is no place for someone like her here.”
But Myst did not hear her fiancé’s words. She could only see her father’s face, his visage condemning Tair without words. Her father, one of the most powerful men in Joram’s Bend, was a member of the very council that would be judging Tair’Lianne – and he had already judged her. Regardless of what defense may come, the other council members would judge based on what Torvel Almdor suggested.
She had to convince her father that Tair was innocent, but to do that she needed time; precious time that Tair did not have.
“I guess I have never allowed myself to see her that way,” Myst said, allowing her tears to fall to enforce the lie. “She is my friend and I will miss her.”
Torvel gave her a patronizing chuckle that all fathers give their mistaken children. “You are good to say such things. Now, allow me to speak to Vettis. Perhaps I can wrest some secrets away from his father’s planting.” He kissed Myst gently on the forehead and let her pass. “Oh,” he added. “And please speak with your mother. She is under the notion that you may run away with Tair and she is deeply distressed.”
“Yes, Pap,” Myst said carefully. It always amazed her that her mother knew her better than her father…
Myst continued to paddle, her mind gently switching back to the present. It was mid-summer when she had rescued Tair from the single cell “jail” of Joram’s Bend. Now, autumn was fully awakened and the farmers of the Bend would be working from sunup to sundown for the harvest. Myst was curious to know how angry her father still was for her apparent betrayal. The council had placed a bounty on both of their heads (specifically requesting that they were to be returned alive), but after the first four attempts when the local self-proclaimed bounty hunters returned badly beaten, most locals knew to leave well enough alone.
The tributary tightened as it curved sharply to the north, spilling its contents into the main line of the Tebis’non. From there, they paddled west, staying along the southern shore. The tree-laden hills gave way to open fields of orange and gold as the river suddenly widened into a
floodplain. Thousands of farmed acres lay north and south, hugging the bottleneck where the Tebis’non overflowed each spring as it suddenly curved north into rocky foothills. From here, the river began to flow a bit faster and became much deeper.
On the south side of the water, a narrowly curved mesa the color of rusted iron burst from the shoreline. Its edges that faced the river on the north and west sides were smooth, glistening dark amber in the fading sunlight, while its southern and eastern faces were cragged and bulging with rounded slopes and jagged drop offs that were now shadowed with the coming sunset. A narrow road of packed earth and crushed stone wound its way from the base and zigzagged up the eastern face to a small town built on the flattened top of the mesa.
This was Joram’s Bend.
The fields surrounding the mesa were crawling with workers. Sunlight glinted off of scythes, hoes, and other metal bladed farming devices. A low cloud of dust hung over the harvesting fields as each of the five families of Joram’s Bend tended toward their yearly goal. Suddenly, Myst was reminded of why they had returned and of the horrible reality that was quickly floating towards her home. She pointed to a shallow pool near the base of the mesa, where at least six river craft were tied to a simple dock of warped plank wood. “Let them off over there,” she instructed the skiff pilots.
The two adults waved their understanding and began paddling their way into the calm waters of the side pool. She watched as the two remaining narrow boats followed the skiff. Neither Tair nor Myst proceeded to paddle towards the dock, knowing there would be town guards watching the children disembark.
“We don’t have to do this,” Tair said, turning to Myst. “We escorted those people here safely. Our work’s done.”
Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1) Page 12