by Lexy Wolfe
"You road rats sidin' wi' these invadin' savages?" the man growled.
Etaio smirked. "They ain't lookin' like they be invadin' t' me, Chok." Flicking a glance over Chok's shoulder, the gypsy feigned fright, "Aie! Look out fer that monster behind ye."
Chok looked over his shoulder in a half panic, then scowled. "Ain't no one but Bek—" he began when Bek stumbled into him. Off balance, the two stumbled more, teetering on the edge of the pier.
Etaio and his partner approached. "I warned ye." Together, they shoved at the two, sending them into the water below the pier. "Though it be an' insult t' monsters, callin' Bek one of 'em." The gypsy leader smirked at the varied epithets shouted up at them. He offered a jaunty, mocking salute to the men below before looking to see how the rest of the battle was going.
The gypsies had cut the mob's numbers by more than half and those left were not as eager as they did not outnumber the Desanti more. The gypsy leader whistled sharply and his people made a defensive perimeter around the five Desanti. Others who had considered joining the fray paused at this show of solidarity between the two groups.
The gathering crowd parted, others hurrying to get out of sight, as mounted guardsmen made their way to the source of the commotion. Stepping forward, Etaio straightened and raised a hand to his temple in a casual salute, sword still in hand. "Hey, Cap'n Dylar. How be Ganessi's finest?"
The guard captain appeared torn between amusement and annoyance. "I see you and your clan are in the thick of things as usual, Etaio." He leveled a look on the five Desanti, the four with swords moving closer to the veiled woman who stood as serene now as she had been during the battle.
"Eh, we jus' be out fer an evenin' stroll. Saw there be a welcomin' party goin' on an' wanted t' join in on th' fun, ye know." Making grandious gestures, Etaio looked at his sword as if only just realizing he still had it out and made a show of sheathing it in haste while clearing his throat. The gypsy leader then turned a faux innocent smile up to the captain.
Dylar arched an eyebrow at Etaio, then turned a cold look on the Desanti. "So, these savages are friends of yours, then?"
"Why, o' course!" Etaio smiled toothily. He walked to the nearest of the warriors and threw an arm around Pacer's shoulders as though they had known each other all their lives. The Desanti stared at Etaio as if the man had grown a third eye on a stalk right then. When Pacer glanced back to the other three warriors with a question in his eyes; they all shrugged. Oblivious to the wordless exchange, the gypsy continued cheerfully. "Ye don’t think we gypsies take charity cases, now do ye? Why, these be some good friends o' my clan what decided t' come up an' visit us, ye know."
"Really now," Dylar stated, his skepticism apparent. He turned his hard gaze to the newcomers. "Is this true, Desanti?" he demanded. "Are you friends of these gypsies?"
The four warriors remained silent, turning to look at the veiled woman. With the stately grace of royalty, she approached the guard captain and paused in front of his horse. She raised a delicate, dark brown hand, the horse sniffing it. Without warning, all five horses suddenly lowered their heads and bowed, startling their riders with the unbidden action that almost unseated them.
"What th' hell?" one of the other gypsies exclaimed as the group reflexively took a step away from the Desanti. The four warriors scowled at them, but remained silent.
Slender hands moved the veil back to reveal Kiya's delicate features, her rich, dark brown complexion, and startlingly pale, golden brown eyes. With a serene smile, Kiya stated in heavily accented trade common, "Yes, noble Warrior. They are friends to us." She looked at Etaio. "We thank you for your tribe's assistance. Those who had attacked us were demanding our drizzen."
"Drizzen?" The guard captain looked up sharply. "You don't have any of those desert beasts with you, do you?" He grimaced as five of the animals emerged from behind a stack of crates when the tallest of the Desanti whistled. "Ah, fardles, it figures. Thought the first two coming through here were bad enough. Least they are smaller than that one."
All of the Desanti's expressions changed, reflecting relief. Kiya took a half step closer, her unsettling, penetrating gaze making the Sevmanen guardsmen fidget. "You have seen drizzen before?"
Dylar arched an eyebrow. "Yes. The one the man rode looked more like those five. The woman rode a huge monster that had bronze on its horns and claws."
"A drizar?" Seeker stepped nearer to Kiya. "Only Storm il'Thandar rides a drizar."
Hopeful, Kiya looked up at the man. "Then the Githalin Swordanzen are here?" She smiled at Dylar's horse as it bumped her in a demand for affection.
"Were here," Dylar corrected gruffly. "They moved on to wherever the Dusvet Guardian went. Something I suggest you Desanti do as well. Ganessi is not a hospitable place to your kind." The man pulled his horse around roughly, irritated with the animal's odd behavior. "Some idiots tried to burn down the Blue Rose. Weren't much left of them afterwards."
Etaio felt his heart lurch at the young woman's crestfallen expression. He held his arms out in a grandiose gesture. "Ye be in luck! Last I'd seen 'em, they were up to Ithesra. M' clan were jus' headin' t' Forenta inna few sevendays. Goin' t' be winterin' up there, ye see. I'm sure ye ken find yer Swordanzen up there."
The woman looked up, her expression filled with such untarnished hope and faith even Dylar and his men could hardly bear to look at her. "Do you see? Grandfather guides us true," she said to her four companions. Going to Etaio, she took his hand in both of hers. "You will permit us to travel with you?" A hint of begging colored her voice.
"Aw, 'course ye ken," Etaio stated, bowing without a second thought to the slight woman. "Ye be good friends of ours, after all." He flashed an annoyed look at the other gypsies who all traded bewildered expressions at the unexpected offer to the five desert folk.
Dylar smirked a little. "Get you, your 'friends', and those monsters off my docks, Etaio. And keep them out of trouble. I don't need to have rampaging savages terrifying the city." Waving a hand to indicate they were departing, the guards rode away from the group.
"C'mon, princess," Etaio said blandly. "Looks like we be saddled wi' ye for a bit."
"Princess?" The woman tilted her head to one side. "I do not know this word. Would you explain it to me?"
"After we get back t' camp," Etaio stated. "Ye don't want t' be hangin' 'round out here. People 'round here get nervous 'round ye desert folk."
The woman fell in step with Etaio, her four companions moving to shadow her, each with a drizzen by them. She reached up to lower the ninon veil over her face again, the translucent material covering her features. A small smile graced her lips. "I can understand their feelings of fear and nervousness if the first Desanti they met was Storm il'Thandar."
"Ye know 'er then?" Etaio wondered, looking at the woman's veiled profile.
"All Desanti know Storm il'Thandar. She is the... one of the Githalin Swordanzen." Pausing a moment, the delicate woman looked at Etaio. "I did not expect an outlander to call Desanti friend. Especially since you do not know us." She glanced sideways at him. "Why would you lie for someone who is a stranger to you?"
Etaio reached up to scratch behind his ear, chuckling. "Ah, well. My brothers be friends wi' yer Swordanzen. What little I heard 'bout the Swordanzen from 'em, figured they'd not be happy if somethin' happen t' any of their people. The way Emil talked, sounded like they would be layin' blame on everyone an' not jus' with words, neither. Heard 'bout how she fights like a demon from the lowest hells."
"Smart." Seeker's voice was sharp with barely reigned in tension. "Storm il'Thandar is not known for patience."
Etaio grunted, glancing over his shoulder at the Desanti man. "Aye. Figured if there be more o' ye desert peoples comin', best t' be on yer good sides, ye know? That's why we helped ye out this time."
One of the other gypsies snorted. "That an' we do no' want t' be on th' receivin' end of that Storm woman's temper if she decides t' blame us fer not helpin' ye."
The gypsy
leader nodded with vigor. "Right. We know how them idiots that hang 'round the docks ken be wi' newcomers t' this city. Spirits know, we has t' be ready fer 'em ourselves an' we are familiar wi' their idiocy. So, figured we'd help ye out so's if them other two Desanti ever come back through 'ere, they knows not t' go cuttin' down any o' my kinsmen."
Kiya smiled a little. "I see." She was quiet for several moments, head tilted, looking to the side as if listening to someone speaking. "Your tribesmen are not one to do something only out of kindness. Not 'charity' was the word, yes?"
Etaio coughed, inexplicably embarrassed at Kiya's blunt, matter-of-fact wording. "Well, it be a matter of survival, ye know. Got ta have monies to pay fer things." He narrowed his eyes. "Uh, ye Desanti do know what money is, don't ye?"
"Symbols of wealth that is traded for physical or service goods, yes." Kiya shrugged. "It is not how things are done in Desantiva, but the concept is not foreign to us." She turned to regard him. "I have things of value to trade."
The gypsy leader's eyes lit up. "Ye do?! I mean, that be a good thing. We gypsies don’t take on charity cases, as ye already know." Etaio cleared his throat. "Though if m'clan be goin' t' help ye, might be good t' know yer name. And what ye are doing here out of Desantiva." Belatedly, he introduced himself. "I be Etaio. Leader of the Morlaiz clan."
"I am Su'alin Kiya na'Citali. You may call me Kiya. I am seeking the Githalin Swordanzen. These warriors are my protectors. Seeker il'Anibu, Windsong il'Netyri, Pacer il'Xalatu, and Rockspar il'Siniga." She looked back to Etaio, smiling warmly. "I look forward to traveling with you."
The man looked bewildered. "Eh what? Traveling with—? I dinna say..." As the four warriors crossed their arms, a uniform, disapproving scowl leveled on Etaio, the gypsy corrected himself. "I mean, yeah, I said it, but I was no' meanin' it. I was just getting' Dylar off yer back, figured give ye directions t' go find yer people at most. Not takin' ye in t' babysit—"
Kiya lowered her eyes, clasping her hands over her chest as she spoke with an almost apologetic tone. "Lord Etaio, my kinsman and I know nothing of the nature of this land. We need your wisdom to guide us. We are willing to learn about your people's customs so we do not bring insult to your noble people. There is much for us to learn about to even begin to understand the outlands."
The men glanced at one another, fidgeting with discomfort as they muttered amonst themselves. Shrewdly noting their hesitation to deny them, Kiya reached into a large pouch at her hip. "You do not give charity. Grandfather advised me it would be wise to prepare to trade." She opened her hand to reveal a small handful of small gold coins and colorful, sparkling gems. "Would this be enough for you to take us to this Ithesra? We can help your tribe as well. We are very skilled with traveling in large groups."
Etaio's eyes widened before he hurriedly closed her hand around the small bits of treasure, covering her slight hand with both of his. "Good gods, girl, don't flash that shit 'round! Ye never know when someone ye kenna trust will see an'..."
Covering his hands with her free one, Kiya met his eyes. Etaio could not help but stare into the depths of her tawny brown gaze. "Will you help us find our people, Gypsy Leader Etaio of the Morlaiz Clan?" she asked softly. "It is very important to us."
Swallowing, Etaio uncovered the hand with the gold just enough to catch a glimpse of it again. "Princess, my clan will take ye anywhere ye want t' go." A small, knowing smile curled the corners of Kiya's lips as she turned their hands over and spilled the handful of treasure into Etaio's palm.
Chapter 22
In the master's study, Kelafy put her hands on her hips as she watched Nolyn pack his journal and writing instruments into his backpack with care. "You are the Edai Magus of Verusia, Master Nolyn. Edai Magus Eptina is the one responsible for the Estanian realm. She should handle her own affairs."
"All of Forenta is as much my responsibility as it is the Se'edai's, Miss Kelafy," Nolyn replied good-naturedly. "I am his second. And I have no one else to send in my place, so—"
"Then find someone else." Her pale eyes flashed with irritation. "Stay here, build your mage circle, and send someone else to deal with her! How long have you been Edai Magus and you have no junior masters or journeymen assistants? You should be working on building your circle so all the responsibility does not fall on your shoulders alone, not working yourself to death! If Master Ash found out—"
"If Ash found out?" He looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "Ash did a hundred times more than me. He would say it is about time I stopped slacking and live up to my potential."
"He would not," she argued, though her flush belied her agreement with the sentiment of his words. "Well, he would say it. He would not mean it! Your responsibilities are here."
Nolyn sighed, pausing in his packing as he turned to regard her. "It will be fine, Kelafy. It is just a short visit to Quoesia to discuss some matters with Edai Magus Eptina. Marcus will be with me. It would be a waste of resources to have an entire retinue of servants tagging along. I've gotten along quite well on my own. It would be good for Marcus to learn how to survive without being attended to hand and foot in the event he ever needs to fend for himself."
"At least wait for Unsvet Valerian and Journeyman Tobias to return from the Nalicia realm," Kelafy implored. "They are due back in a few days at the latest. I do not have a good feeling about you going into that viper pit—"
"Quoesia is my birth home, Kelafy," Nolyn replied, frowning at her in disapproval. "Do not let your opinion of Master Eptina color your perception of the region. It is unfair to the good people who live there." He cinched the backpack shut. Feeling a twinge of remorse at the look of guilt on the headwoman's expression, he gentled his voice as he spoke. "Miss Kelafy, I appreciate your concern, but it is completely unwarranted. Everything will be fine. This is just a simple visit." He looked up at the woman and sighed at her expression. "Please stop looking at me like I'm going to my death."
Kelafy sighed heavily. "I cannot help but worry about you. You are so much like Master Ash. You put the good of everything and everyone else before your own welfare. Both of you suffer for us all and too few appreciate what you have given up." She suddenly turned away to dust the coffee table, fussing over the centerpieces. "My duty is to ensure you need not worry about all the little tasks needed for day to day living, so you can give your full focus to us. I cannot do that for Master Ash while he is gone. I have to trust that Dusvet Almek will keep him well. But you are here where I can do something. But I can't. I hate feeling as though I am failing in taking care of you."
Nolyn regarded the woman with a fond smile. "You aren't failing. I'm just difficult and not used to being able to depend on others. I've always been the one depended on." He shouldered the backpack. "It's a lot easier for me to take care of others than have others taking care of me. I just feel like I'm inept if I cannot—"
"It is no failure or weakness on your part if you allow yourself to be taken care of," Kelafy pointed out with gentle firmness. "Though, we servants do appreciate that you can take care of yourself. You are one of very few who even understands the effort that we put in for you, because you have performed many of those same tasks yourself." She smiled a little. "A lot like Master Ash." She put a light hand on his cheek. "We are your servants as much as his, Master Nolyn. And this is your home. Do not think that you are any less in our eyes than he is, just because he is Illaini and you are Edai. Master Ash loves you like a brother."
Managing a wan smile, Nolyn clasped her hand and turned it over, brushing a kiss on her knuckles. "You are far too good to me, Kelafy. Do not worry about this business with Edai Magus Eptina. Once I see to her needs, I will be home before you know it."
"Just so long as you aren't courting her," Kelafy replied tartly. "I am reviewing all the eligible women that the matchmakers have been offering for you. There are scullery maids who are far better suited to be your wife than that... woman."
Nolyn rolled his eyes. "I do not need a wife! I am perfectly happy
as I am." He hurried out before she started detailing the virtues of her current top choices for him. Marcus looked over at him as he jogged over to the stables where he held the reins of two horses. "Do you have everything, Marcus?"
"Yes, Master Nolyn," he replied. It took him a moment to mount, not as deft at it as Nolyn was. "I need to practice riding horses more. I always feel like I am going to fall off."
"You'll grow into it," Nolyn assured. "It's more difficult when you are so short. I'll show you some tricks on the way to Quoesia to make it easier."
Marcus looked back to the house briefly as they rode away. "Miss Kelafy looks worried," he observed.
"Miss Kelafy always fusses after me. She thinks I do too much on my own."
"The Se'edai Magus thinks so, too." Marcus shrugged when Nolyn arched an eyebrow and looked at him. "Most of the Edai Magi have many working with and for them. Technical masters, junior masters and journeymen, servants, and that." He looked back at his master. "You only have me studying and practicing magic and other skills. I can do more to help you!"
Nolyn smiled gently. "I am not going to dump work on you that I can do myself just to alleviate myself of the burden."
"I cannot learn if I do not do, also," Marcus pointed out matter-of-factly.
The man arched an eyebrow. "You are a very unusual apprentice. Most try to avoid more work. You want me to throw it at you."
Marcus did not smile at the teasing tone, looking down at his horse's mane. "I have a lot to prove to others." Before the man could speak, Marcus continued with the same far-too-mature gravity. "Master Nolyn, I am the first apprentice to the newest Edai Magus. The Edai Magus that the great mother Herself had chosen. And I am a lowborn. The other students, especially the highborn, think that I do not deserve the honor of being formally apprenticed. Not all of them!" he added in a rush, feeling Nolyn's expression darken. "But... you believe in me. I want to make you proud and if I am not so strong or clever with magic, then I have to make up for it elsewhere."