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Topiara - Chapter 1
Lyara stretched in the early morning cool, breathing in the fresh, ocean air before pulling her knitted trousers and light tunic on. An early morning fishing voyage hadn't been her idea of a great way to spend the only rest day to come her way in several tendays, but she hadn't the authority to resist when it was her master's son, Stepan, who was putting together the trip.
Stepan was the youngest child of Sea Master Vandor — and with a trio of older sisters between him and his two older brothers. Born to the sea and its mysteries, he had been but one step ahead of Lyara in learning the art of the sea while being the same age. While Lyara had been learning to read the mood of the waves and understanding the basics of sailing, Stepan had been learning the art of reading the wheeling and crying of the sea birds to pinpoint where the largest schools of sweet-tasting and profitable silverfish swam that day. A full hold of the shimmering silverfish would make the day's sailing worthwhile for the entire fleet. Then, while Lyara had been learning the art of reading the antics of sea birds, Stepan had been learning the art of navigating by starlight.
Stepan was the apple of his father's eye and rarely found at fault for all manner of mischief that should have been laid at his door. He was also fond of Lyara — although he rarely received any encouragement at all. Lyara was a committed student of the Sea Master himself, and not at all intrigued by the whispered suggestions of nighttime trysts along the docks. In the years she had been indentured to the Sea Master, she had thought she had put an end to any of Stepan's ideas.
For the last few ten days, however, Stepan had been particularly attentive, taking it upon himself to tutor the oldest apprentice seaman in his father's fleet in the fine points of piloting and navigation. Whether the help was actually needed or not, Lyara, as bonded apprentice, had lately found herself almost completely at the beck and call of the autocratic Sea Master's son without a good reason to protest the attention. What was more troubling, she was uncomfortable with the impression he was making on all those who cared to see that his interest in the raven-haired bondmaid was more than just in the interests of his hall. Having Stepan so constantly close to her during the daytime had become a burden and an irritant she wished she dared rid herself of, but knew she had no grounds.
Lyara sighed as she adjusted the tooled leather belt at her waist to hold the leather tunic tight to her body. She had spent the last years of her young life in bonded apprenticeship to the Sea Hall and could remember nothing of her life before her capture on the plains of the Kauwlut Homelands. Lately, however, she had begun to wonder about her roots because of the strange dreams which visited her at night - dreams which contained visions of prancing horsemen, huge and terrifying wolves lunging at her, and snatches of a language that was frustratingly almost-intelligible.
From a small pouch that dangled from the fringed belt, Lyara pulled the shell fetish that she dutifully braided into her hair as a luck token of the Sea Goddess. Braiding a fetish into her hair had seemed natural and right, even from her first day as apprentice navigator, almost as if she had performed the same action all her life. There was another fetish in the pouch — one that had come to the Sea Hall tangled in her hair on the day of her purchase. It had remained stored in the pouch because Lyara could no longer remember the deity it betokened — crafted from a swatch of silvery fur and one sharp claw — but she had kept it because of an odd feeling she'd need it someday. Every morning upon rising, without fail, Lyara's fingers lingered for a moment in the pouch and stroked the soft fur longingly.
Shaking off the wistfulness that accompanied her every morning's rising, Lyara went to the small slit in the thick, stone walls of the Seahall and peered out over the blue waters of Khyran Bay to the ocean beyond. A niggling doubt tugged at the back of her mind that she quickly put aside at the sight of the smooth water and blue sky. Such obvious calm and good weather hardly merited the hesitation she felt at putting to sea, no matter how correct her hunches had proven lately. With one more deep sigh, Lyara picked up the leather gloves that would protect her hands from both the cutting effect of the ropes and the drying effect of the salt water and made her way down winding stairs to where Stepan waited for her anxiously at the docks.
I she should have listened to her inner voice, Lyara scolded herself worriedly as the autumn sky, which had but a few hours ago promised a beautiful day for fishing, gradually became dark with foreboding clouds that allowed only patchy sunlight to shine on the quiet waters of Khyran Bay. In the distance, thunder rumbled and foretold of the storm brewing over the vast sea beyond and would inevitably move into the bay and from there over the land.
Lyara steered the bow of the small fishing boat back in the direction of the distant, rocky shoreline and shouted for Stepan to pull in the nets so as to be able to increase their speed. The frequency of the rumbles of thunder told her that this squall was a bad one that would be dangerous to face on the water, and the quicker they found safe haven in the Sea Hall, the better. Vandor would not take kindly to losing even this smallest of his fleet, much less having his youngest son lost due to the inept weather sense of one of his oldest apprentices. Lyara's eyes left the horizon only for a moment to make sure Stepan was indeed pulling in the nets and then checked the way the stiff, chill wind filled the blue sail and drove the craft over the choppy water toward the distant shoreline.
She was also disgusted that her inner voice had not seen fit to warn her about Stepan's actual reasons for suggesting such an undertaking. Not only had he sought to strengthen his own standing in his father's eyes by bringing in a prize-winning catch, but he had taken advantage of having Lyara alone with him on a boat to press his suit with her. The only reaction Lyara had had to his clumsy attempts at caresses was extreme loathing, fear and a desperate desire to distance herself from the youth as quickly as possi ble — something virtually impossible on such a small vessel. In fact, Lyara was grateful for the near-fatal accident that had made Stepan more busy hauling in the loaded nets than he had been in trying to catch her.
Stepan had made his move on her after they had brought in the nets for the second time, when both of them had become drenched while trying to swing the nets directly over the open hold. Stepan had taken advantage of Lyara's preoccupation with rearranging her wet clothing to close in on her and wrap his arms around her tightly from behind before she had a chance to push him away.
"Don't!" he whispered in a hot tone of urgency into her ear as she screamed and struggled against his hold on her. "I know you've been wanting this as much as I have."
With a violent wrench that was stronger than she had ever imagined herself capable of, Lyara managed to shake herself loose from his grasp and move across the boat to the other side of the open hold hatch. "I don't know what you're talking about, Stepan," she complained, really frightened now. He was much stronger than she had thought, and she was completely alone and without protection against him. She panted in terror and wished vainly that there was more that she could put between them than just open hold.
"Surely you don't think I invited you out here just to fish," he scoffed in amazement, "especially after all I've done for you these last few weeks." His eyes narrowed and glowed from within with his desire. "It's time for you to pay me back for all the assistance I've given you."
Her heart pounding in her throat from the exertion and fear of what Stepan wanted to do, Lyara carefully kept the gaping hatch between them and moved cautiously back and forth to keep him as far off balance as possible. Stepan managed however to maneuver her toward the stern end of the hatch, where she would be across the narrowest span of the hatch; and then he leapt at her. Lyara fell back against the rudder handle, causing it to strain against the looped thong that held it steady and break loose.
The little craft suddenly swerved and headed into the wind, which in turn then caught at the opposite side of the triangular sail and swung the boom about quickly. Stepan barely saw the boom coming at him before it caught him on the shoulder and knocked him sprawl ing across the deck — had he been standing fully upright, it would have crushed the back of his skull. He yelled more in surprise and anger than in pain, a yell that was cut short by a loud rumble of thunder and the snap of lightning striking not that far away.
In the time they had been arguing and stalking each other, the sky had been filling with clouds darker than the friendly puffs of white that had accompanied the small fishing craft into open water. Too late, both Stepan and Lyara realized that they were in real danger of being overtaken by a swift-moving squall-line that was moving across the open ocean towards them like a black curtain.
Stepan rose to his feet quickly and pulled the guideline on the net so as to allow the shimmering load of silverfish to tumble into the half-filled hold. "You take the rudder," he shouted with a wince of pain from his sore shoulder, "I'll recast the nets so we can trawl at the same time as we run before the storm." He scowled, frustrated at the outcome of his plans. "And we will continue our little conversation later, when we're safe in harbor again."
"Don't recast the nets, Stepan — if you do, we'll never outrun this thing. It's moving too fast, and you know it! We'll have to make do with the haul we've already got!" Lyara was furious — and she was not going to chance losing her life just so Stepan could strut and preen over a record-breaking haul.
And as for their 'little conversation', that wouldn't be continued either if she could help it, Lyara thought to herself angrily as she trained her gaze on the horizon beyond which lay the harbor and safety.
Lyara shook her head to make the snaking tendrils of black hair be blown away from her ebony eyes by the wind so that she could see better. Her gaze darted back and forth from the landmarks on the approaching shoreline to the sight of Stepan struggling to haul in the last of the heavy hemp nets filled with the glistening silverfish. Another rumble of thunder rolled over the boat, followed by a brilliant flash of lightening. Lyara thanked Mah Myla, mother goddess of the sea, for the stiff wind that drove the tiny craft closer and closer to home that showed no signs of weakening. She muttered a heartfelt wish that she live to see another night of warm gruel and bitters that was the daily fare of an apprentice in Vandor's household.
If she could actually manage to safely outrun the rapidly-approaching tempest, the benefits of both bringing in a huge catch and deftly piloting a craft in such inclement weather surely would not go unnoticed by her stern master. Perhaps then he would acknowledge her ability and give her the promotion in status that she had long deserved and, as was the custom for one newly of journeyman status, at long last give her the chance to tender her freedom-price from her indenture.
The small boat rounded the promontory that marked the leading edge to the docks of the Fishing Master's Hall, and a large group of people standing and watching in the driving wind gave a loud cheer that was audible even over the wind's howling. A little ways off, standing alone and apart from the crowd, Lyara could see the red robes that were Vandor's. As she guided the boat to the docks in the first sprinkles of what promised to be a full deluge, the frown on the Master's face became apparent.
Lyara looked quickly over at Stepan, who had also seen the look on his father's face. Lyara gave a deep sigh as she realized that the young man had probably lied to her about having his father's permission for the trip. The more she thought about the possi bility in light of the events of the day, the less the possibil ity of his lying surprised her. She had to deliberately tear her angry gaze from Stepan as he lowered the triangular sail quickly and concentrate on guiding the bow of the craft between the stone barriers that bounded the boat's berth.
"Lyara! Stepan!" Vandor growled loudly enough to be heard over even the weather and the accolades of the crowd, "what was the meaning of taking the boat out today? Stepan, I told you yesterday that the Oracle had finally sent us the list of days not to set sail for open water and that today was on the list."
There was no way Lyara was going to share in Stepan's blame needlessly — or let the matter of his deception remain a secret. "Master, Stepan told me he had your permission to take the boat out when he asked me last night to go with him," she shouted as she leaped to the dock to tie the boat firmly into its berth. She knew the others standing around the dock could hear her as well, and made sure her voice remained loud enough to continue to be heard. "I was following what I thought were your orders in good faith."
Vandor stalked to the side of the boat and stared down at his son as he took the wooden cover off the hold and lowered the unloading net into the writhing mass of silverfish. "Is this true, my son? Did you go against my express orders to keep the boats moored today; and not only that, convince the best of my navigator apprentices that she could go with my blessings?"
Stepan looked up into his father's wrathful face anxiously, then back down at his task once again. "Father, I thought..."
A renegade blast of wind drove a sheet of stinging rain into the faces of Vandor and the rest of the sea-holders who stood listening to the exchange. Vandor merely closed his eyes against the onslaught of driving rain and sighed in his turn. "No, Stepan, you didn't think; and that's the problem. You took the chance of getting yourself and Lyara killed for what? Tell me that; for what reason?" He pointed to the open hatch. "Do you honestly think that was worth risking your life and that of my best navigator appretices?"
Stepan kept his eyes down. He had no intention of putting his ideas to his angry father in front of witnesses, or even in front of Lyara herself. "The Oracle's been wrong from time to..."
"WE DON'T TAKE THOSE KINDS OF CHANCES, BOY!!" Vandor thundered. "When will you EVER learn that my orders apply to you just as much as to the meanest fisherman of our fleet?" He waited for a reply, not expecting one. Then he took a deep breath and turned to Lyara. "You did well in bringing the boat in safely, Lyara, under such conditions. Perhaps I have been wrong in keeping you an appren tice. I can see now that your skills have reached higher than your rank." He looked down into the hold again and assessed the value of the silver haul. "And, foolhardy as the trip was, you brought back a very good catch safely." He nodded approvingly, and the crowd about them clapped in agreement
"Thankyou, Master," Lyara said, blushing under the unexpected praise given in the presence of so many witnesses. Vandor was not known for such open praise even to his most favorite craftsmen, keeping his comments usually until it could be voiced solely to the person to whom they applied. "I did but my best for you and our hall."
What made the praise even more unusual were Lyara's circumstances themselves. Most of the navigator apprentices who had entered Vandor's service with her had long since been elevated in rank to journeyman. But Vandor had been skeptical of a female's abilities to guide a craft - in spite of his having purchased her bond for just that purpose. He had delayed her elevation in status for three long years for one reason or another without showing one sign of weakening in his resolve until now.
"Come out of the cold and rain now, Lyara, and let my fool of a son take care of the catch by himself as punishment for his folly. I think it is time we have a discussion about your future." The Sea Master turned to the spectators gathered and frowned. "The excitement is over, and you all have work to do."
The crowd dispersed quickly even as the cold rain began splattering down on the docks in earnest. After giving another disparaging frown at his son, Vandor gestured for Lyara to precede him into the warm shelter of the Hall. Lyara gave not one backwards glance at Stepan as she obeyed her master, happy that she had not been made to unload the fish as was customary.
Stepan watched with cold rain dripping from his hair as everyone left, and he couldn't help overhearing some of the openly disparaging and cutting remarks of the departing fisher folk now that Vandor was out of sight. He cursed loudly once everyone was out of hearing and began throwing the fish into the unloading net with frustrated viciousness. For weeks now, he had been bringing his father's reluctant attention to Lyara with the idea that, at the right time, he would ask his father to give her to him as a bride. His actions weren't without precedent, only without willing acceptance on the part of his intended. Had the day gone as planned, he could have won her — or at least made it so that she couldn't refuse his offer later.
Lyara had been quite definite in rebuffing him while they were alone, and Stepan sincerely suspected that she had deliber ately turned the bow into the wind with the intention of having the boom knock him overboard. And now, if his father chose to accept Lyara's freedom-price before he could present his plans properly, all of his hard work and planning would have been for nothing. It was well known among all the apprentices and journeymen that Lyara had no desire to remain a navigator for her entire life, hoping instead to put her talents to use in other ways and places.
With impotent anger, Stepan shook his fist at the turbulent seas and cursed the name of Mah Myla for sending the storm to ruin his plans. What he had thought was a foolproof plan to gain a beautiful and wild mate was suddenly working against him.
Lyara used the absorbent towel quickly, taking as much of the wetness from her snarled hair as possible before pulling the shapeless brown gown that was her one non-work related garment over her head. She was grateful that Vandor had given her a chance to get out of the wet trousers and tunic before her interview with him, yet another unusual luxury. Vandor was infinitely practical — he knew the conditions the sea tended to return his people in, and usually was content to carry out important dealings immediately and leave off allowing time to take care of grooming issues until that which mattered was out of the way.
She reached for the braided silver belt Vandor had returned to her on the day she had become an apprentice - the second of the only two possessions she had to remind her of the Kauwlut camp of her birth - and tied it to her slim waist. Satisfied that her dress was now presentable, she brushed her thick, black mane vigorously with the stiff brush to remove the worst of the snarls and tied it back with a thin strip of leather. She then hurried from the tiny cubicle, down the narrow wind ing stairs and then down another corridor until she came into the main part of the Hall.
Vandor was waiting for her in his private office, standing at the window and looking out over the storm-tossed waters with a thoughtful look on his face. As the young apprentice entered, he blinked himself his reverie and seated himself in a business-like manner at his desk and then motioned for the girl to take a seat on the stool he had pulled out for her. "Hot armetto?" he offered, extending a steaming mug. Lyara took the mug and drank deeply of the warming brew. Vandor poured himself a mug and then sat back comfortably, keeping a sharp eye on the girl whose fate he was about to help decide. "I think I have been wrong in keeping you back as an apprentice; I see that now. You gave a most effective demonstration of your skills today. To be able to pilot a small boat in such winds and currents is an accomplishment even I would be proud to claim."
"It was not easy, Master; but neither was it so difficult. The wind was consistently at my back and strong, so the currents had no effect of the boat. Besides, I heard the thunder in the gathering clouds and was ready to run before the wind in case the storm came too close."
Vandor shook his head good-naturedly. "Be that as it may, I have decided to raise your rank to journeyman navigator and give you a regular craft assignment; that is, if you choose to stay on in this Hall and Craft. It is your choice, Lyara. I always have a need for good navigators, and you have proved yourself most capable."
Lyara swallowed her armetto quickly. "I think I would like the chance to try my skills in something other than fishing, Master. I have learned the language of the land and forgotten all of my past life before I was brought here; but I have never been outside this Hall for all the years I have served you. As is your custom, I would prefer you accept my freedom-price and let me try something else, if you are agreeable."
Vandor leaned forwards and refilled her mug with more of the warm beverage. "Of course I will accept your freedom-price. All indentured apprentices are allowed to buy their freedom at the end of their preliminary training. The haul you and Stepan brought in today will net you five pieces, which is than half your freedom-price. But, since I have made you serve three years longer as an apprentice than necessary because of my doubts and prejudices, I will deduct one piece of specie from the total freedom price for each extra year you served."
Lyara blinked back tears of relief and surprise. "You are more than fair, Master. I owe you then only two pieces of specie more than what I earned today?"
Vandor smiled. "That's right, seven pieces will be your freedom-price — with five already paid."
Lyara reached into the bodice of her gown and pulled out the little leather pouch she wore about her neck in the fashion of all apprentices and took two of the golden discs from the amount she had saved over the years. With a shaking hand, she placed the coins gently on the desk amid the papers. There — it was done. She was free.
The door of the office burst open, and a dripping Stepan charged in with a determined scowl. "Wait, Father. I want to speak to you before you take the freedom-price from her."
Vandor's face darkened ominously. "You have no business here right now, Stepan. This is between Master and Apprentice."
Stepan took no warning from either the frown or the tone of voice. "Now that Lyara is made journeyman, I want to have the right to make her my mate. I have spoken to you of this before, Father, and you said . ."
Lyara looked from father to son with open loathing and fright that was tempered only by the answering look of outrage on her master's face. Vandor glanced at Lyara and could not miss her expression that spoke volumes about her reaction to the propos al, and then he turned the full force of his long-withheld anger on his son. "I told you when you asked before that I do not follow the practices of my fellow masters. I do not give my bonded female help as mates to others as if they were inanimate objects with no opinions their own. The choice of staying in this Hall or leaving it now lies with Lyara, not you. A freed journeyman, by definition, has repaid her bond and cannot be forced to remain against her will. Lyara had paid her freedom-price, and I have accepted. You will leave now and speak to me no more of this."
Stepan glared at Lyara with a hunger than made the girl's skin crawl. "I want her, Father, and you have to let me have her. Its my right, since you spoke of the rights of appren tices, to choose my mate from amongst your people."
Vandor looked an apology at Lyara and shrugged, a gesture intended to dismiss his son's arguments. "That may be true in other Crafts which hold to the old traditions, Stepan. In this Hall, however, MY tradition is that once I set the freedom-price and it is paid - which has happened already, for your information - Lyara is no longer in my service unless she agrees to become a journeyman navigator in our craft after the fact. As she has declared a desire to leave and learn new skills elsewhere, she is no longer one of us anyway."
Lyara allowed a small smile of satisfaction to creep onto her lips, which Stepan interpreted as gloating. He opened and closed his mouth like a beached fish, his face reddening; but Vandor himself cut off the youth's complaint. "Besides, your actions today, my son, have shown me that you still are far too immature seek any mate at all. Only men seek mates; and you are still a boy too dense to know when you have stepped out of bounds. You cry for her as if she were a toy, and pout as if you were a baby still. Do not try my patience more, Stepan, or you will regret it. Now leave us!"
Stepan glared impotently at his father and Lyara, fists clenched and held stiffly at his side. "You are mine, Lyara! Nobody else will have you!"
"THAT WILL BE ALL, Stepan!" Vandor bellowed. "Take your foul and uncooperative mood to the gutting room and work out your frustrations on cleaning the fish you caught, and stay there until I get tired of the stench." Vandor rose to his full height and pointed to the door. "NOW!!" Stepan's face lost some of its bellicose color, and he stomped from the room defeated yet defiant. Vandor followed his son to the door and motioned to a hall steward. "See to it that my son goes to the gutting room and doesn't emerge until the load has been cleaned and prepared for drying."
"Yes, my Lord." With a gleam of satisfaction in his eye, the steward set off in the direction Stepan had taken. It was about time that spoiled brat of a son was brought to heel — the whole Sea Hall had waited for the pampered youngest son to go too far one day — and there would be a good deal of rejoicing that the day had finally arrived.
Vandor closed the door to his office and moved slowly back to his desk. He resumed his seat and refilled his mug. Lyara picked up her mug again to take a sip of the beverage, and she was surprised to find her hands shaking as they held the pottery. If she had not had the experiences with Stepan on the ocean earlier in the day, she would have been astonished indeed that her friendship with the youth could have caused such a change in him.
Vandor also used the quiet moments after Stepan's exit to calm himself and, as if sensing her thoughts, sighed tiredly and said gently, "I hold you blameless of his actions, Lyara. He knows he must prove himself far and above his older brothers to gain any position of importance within the Hall; and I myself have not been blameless in being lax and giving him all that he asked for until now in pity." Lyara's face colored in embarrassment, and Vandor raised his eyebrows. "You didn't encourage him, did you?"
"I thought not, Master," she answered honestly, although softly. "I didn't refuse his friendship nor attentions before today because I didn't think refusing would be allowed. I didn't even care that some of the things he told me were incorrect, because I knew it wasn't my place to tell him of his errors. But, in the boat . . ." she stammered to a stop and sighed rather than explain. She still got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of his hands on her body and his hot breath on her neck as she had stood at the rudder. How could she have misjudged him so . . .
Vandor hadn't missed the flash of unconscious revulsion that had accompanied her sudden silence. "You need say no more. After this latest display, I have a fair picture of what went on between you two out there. I take it you will be leaving us then?" He smiled grimly. "That's right. I forgot I had asked you that before we were interrupted. Have you any idea where you would like to go or what you want to do?"
Lyara shrugged. "I had only allowed myself to think as far as gaining my freedom, Master. That seemed a far-away goal only this morning. But I have heard stories of how the Guides Service could use people with skills in navigation from some of the sailors who have sheltered here from time to time. Perhaps I could find employment with them."
"A wise choice," Vandor agreed, nodding. "I know the Director of the Guides. His name is Lyndon, and he has employed several of my graduated apprentices in his services over the years. I will be happy to write a letter of introduction to him for you that may help you. You should be warned, however, that if he accepts you that will be required to serve a minimum of one year Guide's apprenticeship with him as well as another year's guaranteed service upon rising to journeyman guide. During your apprenticeship, you will learn to read not only the sky and weather, but the signs of the land, map-reading and geography, customs of the many provinces of Talandria, and the art of self-defense." Vandor had ticked of the items off on his fingers. "It is one of the most vigorous and difficult service crafts in the land, but one I can imagine you could make use of even if you decide at the end of those two years not to remain in the Guides Service."
"Two more years of compulsory service," Lyara groaned aloud, then looked up with a smile. "But then, the time will pass quickly if I have so much to learn in such a short time. By applying myself, I should be able to help the time pass just all that much faster."
Vandor's eyebrows climbed into his hairline, and he approvingly. "Your attitude will take you far, Lyara. I truly regret deeply that my son's obsession drove you from my fleet, but I wish you well as a Guide. Here," he added, opening a drawer in desk and pulling a small lodestone on a thong from its depths. "As journeyman navigator, as well as Guide, you will have need of this - besides, you've earned it. As parting gift from the Sea Hall, you may take one of my ponies as your own for one piece of specie. On it you may travel safely to Tandri, capital, and beyond. Mah Myla watch over you in your travels from this day forward."
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