Embers at Galdrilene

by Audra Trosper

  “Coffee, but I can serve myself.”

  She waved away the suggestion. “Nonsense. It is courtesy for me to pour it and you will not mess with my courtesies.”

  He watched her pour coffee into his cup and tea into her own. Though her face held the appearance of youth, now that he was closer, he saw the fine web of lines gathered at the corner of her eyes.

  She handed him his cup and smiled. “Now, we may talk and have a proper meeting.”

  Kellinar walked through the city streets with the five-point pendant tucked beneath his shirt. Hopefully people wouldn’t remember his face clearly from the brief encounters during the crowded celebration of the night before. People had a way of covering things up when they wanted to impress.

  He’d left the hold as soon as Shryden fell back asleep and wandered the streets for most of the morning. A thorough search of the city revealed nothing that reminded him of the Mallay. Surely this place had a poor district and the best way to gage a city, was to get a good look at the underside of it.

  Small children ran and played under the watchful eyes of their elders. The children bore little resemblance to the dirty, often unsupervised, scrawny things that ran amok in the Mallay.

  Prosperity filled the city. People, hard at work, smiled and talked as they went about their tasks and everything spoke of each individual’s pride in a job well done. He saw no one shirking or cutting corners to get done with something faster. Each seemed intent on doing whatever task to the best of their ability.

  A cloud of discontent always hung over the Mallay, the vineyards, out on the tiny fishing boats in the lake and in the fisheries. Workers did just as much as needed to get paid their meager wage and not a speck more. Even the supervisors, who hailed from the Dellar District, and the owners from the Trilene District, worked hard at doing as little as possible.

  Here, Kellinar walked past smithies, granaries, seamstresses, outdoor markets, wood workers and more. Everyone worked harder than any in the Mallay and yet they appeared to be happy.

  No one paid him any mind, not even when he went outside the wall, leaving the city behind. For some time he walked down well maintained roads past fields with workers. The smell of spring growth and rich, freshly turned earth mingled with the scent of horse sweat and manure.

  They used a different sort of plow here. Pulled by teams of draft horses, they plowed as many as six furrows at a time. The plow itself was attached to wheels and the man driving the animals sat on a seat above the plow. A clever design. It looked much more comfortable than the way the farmers back home had to loop the reigns around their necks in order to grapple with the handles of plows that only made a single furrow at a time.

  He lingered out of sight to listen to a group of field workers, sitting for their mid-day meal in the shade of a three-sided building. Here is where he would hear the complaints about their work. Here, away from the field and whoever oversaw the work, he would hear the discontent.

  He hung around until they left to go back to their work. The only complaints he heard were about how certain new seeds weren’t working out as well as they thought they would. Soon after the workers left he caught a ride on a cart headed for the docks. The bay was a good ways away from the city, maybe things were different farther away.

  The middle aged man, who let him ride on his cart and introduced himself as Harlin Devon of the Agricultural Guild, talked a lot about the agriculture of the place. It seemed the man’s life and love revolved around the growing of things. Kellinar didn’t think the man recognized him, at least he never let on that he had one of the new Dragon Riders sitting next to him. But yesterday had been a busy day and not everyone attended the celebration afterward.

  Kellinar mentioned the plows and how much nicer it must be than the kind he was used to seeing. Harlin bobbed his head in agreement. “I’ve heard of those plows the downlanders use. I can’t imagine trying to make one of them do the plowing for me. Only one furrow at a time and made of heavy iron, too, I hear. Must be difficult to work with.”

  “Aren’t the plows here made of iron?”

  Harlin shook his head. “Oh no, too heavy. We’ve been using plows made of sharpened steel for over a hundred years. A young lad, named Baines Nearten, invented them.”

  Harlin smiled then. “Isn’t it wonderful the eggs finally hatched after so many years?” Kellinar nodded, but said nothing of his own dragon. If Harlin knew, he might act different and hide things in an effort to impress him.

  Harlin scratched his head and clucked unnecessarily at the horse. “Wish I could have stayed for the celebration. Not everyone can leave their work for dinner and dancing at the hold though.”

  Ah, here is a rankle. Obviously only those rich enough could leave their work and go play for an afternoon and evening. “You weren’t allowed to leave your work and join in the fun?”

  Harlin gave him a strange look. “Of course I was allowed. But everyone can’t leave work at the same time. We don’t just raise crops–we raise animals, too. There were two goats, four cows and a horse ready to drop their young ones. We couldn’t leave them unattended while we all left for the hold.

  “A few others and myself volunteered to stay. In exchange, others volunteered to watch the animals while we went to the ceremony. Then we came back and those that missed the ceremony got to go to the celebration. Everyone has an equal right to go to any of the celebrations at the hold, or just to go up and enjoy a bath or speak with anyone there.”

  He clucked at the horse again. The animal flicked an ear at him but moved no faster. “We all know our responsibilities and we wouldn’t feel right shirking them. Not a one of us would have been happy if we’d all left and then one of the animals died during birthing, or died of bloat or colic while we were away. It’s not in us to walk away from our duties.” He paused and looked at Kellinar. “I’m surprised you didn’t know these things already. Are you a new arrival?”

  Kellinar nodded. “I’m still not used to all of this.”

  Harlin shook his head and turned his attention back to the road. “Well, when you come from downland, it’s no surprise. I’ve met enough downlanders and heard enough stories. Nothing but hungry people down there. Hungry for money, hungry for freedom, hungry for food, hungry for everything they lack. There’s none of that here in Galdrilene. You aren’t the first to go looking for it. It seems as if everyone who comes from the downlands has to prove to themselves that what they see on the surface of Galdrilene also flows underneath.”

  They rode in silence until they reached a fork in the road. One side of the fork ran level and looked like it curved off to the north. The other sloped down sharply to the enormous bay glittering in the sun. A small fleet of boats moved across the water, sails up and full of wind. Closer to shore more boats were tied up to numerous docks. A cool breeze carried the scent of the salt water and the marine life that lived in it.

  “Here’s where we part ways, young man. I have to get on around this road. As you can see, that road there,” he indicated the one that sloped away, “will take you down to the harbor. Enjoy your day and try to relax.”

  Kellinar smiled and climbed down from the cart. “Thanks for the ride, Harlin, it was nice meeting you.”

  “Anytime, young man, it was nice meeting you, too.”

  Kellinar walked down the road to the docks feeling more relaxed. There was a great deal of activity on the broad, floating walkways between the boats. Larger than he expected, streamlined and beautiful, the boats were a far cry from the raggedy little fleet that fished the great lake outside Trilene.

  The same type of flowers that blanketed the outer rim of the hold also covered the slope down to the bay. The way became steeper the closer he got to the water until he found himself walking on wide steps cut into the side of the drop. He sat down on the steps to watch the organized bustle below. The smell of the roses mixed with the scent of drying fish, wet wood, and the harsh tang of fresh tar.

  He thought of what Harlin sai
d and found himself watching out of curiosity rather than suspicion. Below a tall, lithe woman seemed to be in charge. Her skin was the dark, rich brown color of the beans they made coffee from. Her black hair hung to her waist in a multitude of tiny braids with white and blue beads on the ends of each. Her eyes, crinkled at the corners with tiny crow’s feet, were an even darker and richer brown than her skin.

  How was he able to see such detail at a distance of at least a hundred paces?

  “You see in such detail because of our bond,” Shryden sent.

  Kellinar smiled. “You’re awake again.”

  “I was hungry.”

  A soft laugh escaped his lips. “When aren’t you?”

  “When I’m sleeping.”

  Kellinar shook his head and turned his attention back to the woman on the dock.

  She wore a sleeveless, fitted, turquoise top and loose pants gathered at the ankle of the same color. Between her shirt and her pants, where her waist narrowed giving her an hourglass figure, he saw a hand width of rich coffee skin. Her arms and feet were bare and she moved with grace along the ever moving, floating dock. When she smiled, her brilliant white teeth made a startling contrast to the dark skin of her face. Who was she?

  A woman carrying a bundle down the steps stopped and asked him, “Do you need help?”

  He looked up at the plump woman with blonde hair standing next to him. “Who is that woman?”

  The blonde’s eyes widened. “You must be newly come to Galdrilene. That’s Mage Councilor Dhovara Verkash of the Weather mages.”

  He had a vague memory of seeing her at the far end of the table the evening before. Her title sounded important and in his experience, important titled people never lifted a finger to do anything. “Why is she down here?”

  “Because it’s her turn,” the woman said as if it should be obvious.

  “Her turn for what? I have only been here for a few days and I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, welcome to Galdrilene then. I’m Nia.” She smiled and sat down next to him. “I’ll be happy to explain. Each fleet of boats that goes out, either into the bay or beyond to the ocean, must be accompanied by a senior Weather mage. They can calm a storm enough to get the boats back to harbor safely or bring enough wind when there is none to get them home. They can also tell if the weather is going to get bad or the seas too high for safe sailing. The senior mage has command of the fleet. Every ship captain will defer to the Weather mage.” She pointed at the boats out in the bay. “My oldest brother is the senior mage on the fleet you see out on the water. They all take their turns; it’s considered one of their most honorable duties.”

  She indicated the activity on the docks. “Today is Mage Councilor Dhovara’s turn. She is more than a senior mage. She sits on the Council of Mages and represents the Tower of Wind and Water.”

  “The Tower of Wind and Water?” Emallya and Bardeck had mentioned mage towers.

  Nia nodded. “Yes, there are six towers, one for each of the powers. There is the Tower of Earth, the Tower of Fire, the Tower of Light, the Tower of Healing, the Tower of Spirit, and the Tower of Wind and Water.”

  “So this Dhovara runs the tower then?” Would she teach him how to use his magic? A rush of excitement flooded him as he suppressed the conditioned fear that threatened to rise.

  “As Tarik, the mayor of Galdrilene is to the city, so is Dhovara to the Tower of Wind and Water.”

  He studied the woman on the dock. “Why does she wear her hair in that fashion?”

  “It’s the way all Weather mages wear their hair.”

  Kellinar looked at Nia. “Even the men?” He tried to picture a man with hair like that.

  “Oh yes, men and women both wear it in the braids with the beads. The white beads symbolize air and the blue symbolize water. The men wear theirs a bit different. Where the women’s swing freely, the men’s braids run against the head until they reach the back of the neck, then the braids hang down their backs.”

  “Do they have to wear those braids?”

  Nia smiled and shook her head. “No, some choose to wear their hair loose with only one or two braids to hold the beads. But most prefer the braids. It’s a symbol of the Tower of Wind and Water, like the three silver earrings in each ear is to the silversmiths.”

  At that moment, Dhovara looked up at the two of them sitting there and called out, “Nia, I see you have brought me the young Weather Di’shan. Come down here so I can meet him properly.”

  Nia looked at Kellinar with wide eyes before jumping up and calling back, “Actually, I found him sitting here. I will be happy to bring him down.” She looked back at Kellinar. “You should have said who you were, Di’shan. Dhovara has been hoping to meet you, but knew she had to complete her duties to the fleet first. You will have made her very happy by coming here.”

  Kellinar followed Nia down onto the floating docks, doing his best to maintain his balance as the dock moved up and down in the water within the limits of its pilings.

  “Di’shan Kellinar, welcome to Rose Harbor and to Galdrilene,” the dark woman said when they reached her. “I am Mage Councilor Dhovara Verkash, of the Tower of Wind and Water. I wanted to meet with you today, but my duties cannot be put aside for my wants. It is wonderful that you have found your way down to the harbor.”

  “Why did you want to meet with me?” he asked.

  “I, and the senior mages of the tower, will be the ones to teach you how to use your magic. There is no one else who can. Although your powers will far exceed ours, you can still learn the how from us.”

  Kellinar felt his excitement grow. Since arriving at Galdrilene, the desire to learn how to properly use his magic had blossomed. “You can teach me?”

  “Oh yes and there is much to learn,” she said.

  “When? How soon can I begin learning?”

  Dhovara’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “How are you on a boat?”

  Kellinar hesitated. “I don’t know, I’ve never been on one. Even if I had, it would’ve been on one of the small boats that fish Trilene’s great lake. Those boats are nothing like these giant beauties.”

  “No time like the present to find out. Why don’t you join me today and I will begin teaching you how to watch the weather, read the waves and move the air.”

  Again he hesitated, feeling torn. He wanted desperately to go with this woman and begin learning, but what about Shryden? How would he feel being so far away from him? How would Shryden feel?

  “I will be fine,” came Shryden’s sending. “Mernoth has things he wishes to teach me and the other draclets. We get to try killing our own food today. Only a rabbit, but it is a beginning. Mernoth says there are human things you need to learn just as there are dragon things I must learn, so it is necessary that we be apart some during the days.”

  Kellinar smiled. “Learn your dragon things then while I learn my human things and we will see each other this evening.”

  He nodded to Dhovara. “I would love to accompany you and begin learning.”

  She smiled her brilliant white smile at him. “Leave your boots with Nia then, she will make sure they are here for you when you come back. You will be able to grip the deck of the ship better with bare feet.”

  He did as she said and took off his boots handing them over to Nia. Before long, he found himself walking up the gangplank to the largest ship, its triple masts rising high above his head.

  Serena explored the city as the sun rose high overhead. She strolled down a wide stone road that followed the inside curve of the city wall. She passed lots of houses, each with a neatly thatched roof, a carefully fenced area with a neat garden of vegetables, a fruit tree or two, and often a small flock of chickens. Each house seemed to proclaim that its yard went far to support those who lived there.

  Two small children played in one of the yards. An old woman sat watching them while she knitted. Serena felt a small pang. She might not ever have children. Never feel the weight of her own baby in her ar
ms. Love and comfort from Miya washed over her, taking away the disappointment brought on by the possibly of no children. Miya was worth the sacrifice.

  After some time she reached a tower. Gardens, fruit trees, chickens and goats ringed the base. The vast array of herbs growing around it drew her attention. Every herb she learned as an apprentice, and plenty she’d never seen before, grew in raised beds. Intrigued, she walked closer to the tower. Several yellow robed men and women, moved among the beds, tending the plants.

  A tall, slim man with black hair, a neatly trimmed goatee and eyes that slanted sharply in his angular face stopped what he was doing and approached her. “Di’shan Serena, I am greatly pleased that you have found your way to the Tower of Healing. I am Mage Councilor Gideon Imaran of the Tower of Healing.”

  Serena looked up at the tower and then at the yellow robed figures moving through the gardens. “There is a whole tower devoted to healing?”

  Gideon smiled. “Each of the towers is devoted to a branch of magic. Here, we devote our time and training to healing. Would you like me to show you? I will be happy to answer any questions you have.”

  Serena looked at the plethora of herbs. “Why herbs? You are mages, why do you need herbs?”

  “That is the first question each new student asks. Yes, we can heal. Maybe not the complicated and great healing Bardeck is capable of,” he inclined his head toward her, “the kind you will one day be capable of as well, but we can heal a great many things. However, magic is not always necessary. For something as simple as a cold or a cut, or even an uncomplicated childbirth, herbs will do fine. There are also limitations to what magic can do. Sometimes, it needs some help.”

  He beckoned to her as he started to walk away. “Walk with me. I will show you our tower and you can ask questions.”

  Kirynn wandered through an open air market, looking at the wares and watching the people. Galdrilene reminded her of Arden, the capital city of Boromar, where she was raised. At one time she would have said Arden was her home, but it didn’t feel truthful anymore. In a few short days, Galdrilene already felt more like home than Arden ever had.