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Topiara - Chapter 26
The trek to the coast was uneventful, with each village and town fading forgetfully into the next and the next. Sharin remained the quiet, pensive member of the party; almost too small for the pony she rode. Lyara's tunic and trousers hung on her meager frame, and Jilan had been forced to cut a length of rope from the pack pony's lead to keep the trousers from falling off entirely.
The sure and creative hand of the newest member made the meals around the open fire far more interesting for all of them. Lyara gratefully turned over the task of flavoring the meats and stews from the hunts to Sharin, although she watched carefully and filed away the ideas for later use. Sharin smiled but rarely, but didn't seem to mind the patter of idle talk that would make the leagues ridden seem much shorter.
By the third day, however, Jilan and Lyara were raising eyebrows at each other at the open condescension Farranby was showing Sharin. More and more often, he was pulling Whisper back to walk next to the roan pony Sharin had decided to call Shadow. Sharin, for her part, seemed far more comfortable with Farranby close by and stayed pointedly silent and almost skittish when left alone with Jilan. With Lyara, she was respectful in an admiring and awestruck way, listening with great attention and answering with quiet firmness any questions Lyara put to her.
It was with difficulty, then, that Lyara and Jilan managed to pull Farranby far enough away from the campfire while Sharin searched the bundles for herbs. "You seem to be making quite an impression on Sharin," Lyara commented, leading him farther away into the bushes. "She hardly talks to either of us."
Farranby firmly removed Lyara's hand from his arm. "She's been through something horrible," he said briskly. "I can sympathize with her as neither of you can." He looked from one to the other. "And I'd rather we left it at that, please?"
Lyara reached out again, but didn't try to grasp Farranby's arm. "We weren't trying to pry, Farranby. We just thought . . ."
"I know," Farranby admitted, his voice losing its edge. "It's just that she reminds me . . ." He swallowed hard. "She reminds me very much of someone I used to know a long time ago," he paused, "someone very dear to me."
"Farranby," Jilan began, but was silenced by a gesture from Lyara.
"We're sorry to intrude," she said softly, moving back so that he could push through the bushes and return to the campfire. "It was none of our business." She motioned to Jilan to follow her.
"Wait." Farranby's call stopped them both, and they came back the few paces they had walked. He searched their faces. "It isn't what you think, you know," he began with a muted wave of the hand. "It's just that it's still hard for me to talk about what happened to my family, you see?" He looked at Lyara for understanding.
"You don't have to explain," she soothed.
"Maybe it would help if I did," Farranby responded, shaking his head. "Then you could understand why it was so important that I come with you, and why Sharin . . ." He swallowed hard. "Before I started to wander, I had a wife, you know." He nodded at his two friends. "She was part of Vinzen's organization too, of course. Her name was Gemmi. Gods but she was beautiful!" Farranby's face had grown soft at the memories. "We had three children: two sons and a daughter."
"Sharin reminds you of your wife Gemmi?" Jilan asked quietly.
"No." Farranby's voice had grown dark. "I was supposed to lead a raiding party on this group of travelers who was taking the report of newly discovered gold mines to the King and Oracle. They were a little better armed and defended than our mystics had reported. I was the only one to come back to Rostelian -- Vinzen's estate on the island."
Lyara had caught the change in Farranby's tone of voice. "What did he do? It wasn't your fault the raid failed."
Farranby shrugged. "To Vinzen, fault has nothing to do with the fact that it was a failure. With the report, he could have taken complete control of that mine and made himself richer than even the King himself. It was the most important thing to him, and I made the mistake of not being killed with the others." He kicked at the lowest branch of a bush. Worse, I made the bigger mistake of going back to Rostelian.
"Vinzen was furious -- insane. He cursed me and had some of his men take me out to be whipped within an inch of my life. Meanwhile, he and a select few went over to my cottage outside the estate walls."
Lyara shuddered, and she could tell that Jilan had grown still and horrified. "You don't have to go on."
"Gemmi lived for three days in the camp, a toy for any man to do with as he would." Farranby continued in a monotone, as if he hadn't heard her. "One of the men finally got mad at her for something and slit her throat. Vinzen turned the hounds on my boys. They tore them to pieces in the courtyard while I hung on the wall and watched."
"Your daughter," Lyara whispered. "They killed her too?" Topiara warmed and thrust a cold vision of a broken little body amongst the growing flames of a demolished cottage into her mind, making her flinch and shudder once more.
Farranby glanced at her, his eyes full of anger, and then rubbed both hands over his face as if to wipe the emotion away. "I don't know, and I probably never will. They burned my cottage and everything I owned."
"How did you keep from being killed yourself?" Jilan asked in shock. "You'd think you would have been killed too, eventually."
Farranby turned sad eyes on the young Talandri. "There are things worse than death by far, my young friend. Vinzen knew that he'd broken me when he showed me my wife's body." He took a deep, shaking breath. "He used the excuse that a man should never betray a brother, and had me taken to the mainland. I was . . . not myself. I told him, as he stood there in that boat, that I never wanted to hear his name or see his face for as long as I lived -- but if he ever came close to me or anyone else that I cared for, I would see him suffer worse things than he had even thought of for me."
Lyara felt sick to her stomach at the vision Farran by's words had evoked. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, "I didn't know."
Farranby seemed to shake himself free of the torment of his memories. "Sharin looks to be about the age my daughter would be if she . . ." He wiped at his nose briskly and put a business-like tone into his voice. "We understand each other. I know what she's going through with the loss of her family -- I know what she's thinking and feeling about Vinzen. Maybe I can keep her from becoming hard and losing that innocence she should still have."
Lyara grasped Jilan's arm as if for support. "We should never have even brought up the subject, Farranby, but thank you for telling me. I know the feeling too, you know. Remember? I was captured from my people when I was twelve and brought to Talandria and sold."
Farranby's eyes widened, and then darkened. He nodded. "I'd not thought about that. Fair enough, then. We all go into this equals in many ways." He linked arms with Jilan and Lyara. "Come on. Let's see how Sharin's doing with the hare, and maybe we can all get her to open up a little bit. She can use all the friends she can get."
oOoOo
"Are you sure this thing can make it?" Jilan sounded less than trusting, and Lyara had to admit that the boat would look unseaworthy to any but the most experienced eye. Even Farranby, who would have normally voiced an opinion on the subject, looked less than happy at the idea of setting out in the scrungy little craft. Sharin, still tending to be silent, looked absolutely miserable at the idea.
"Trust me," she whispered out the side of her mouth, and then turned to the disreputable navigator. "Twenty-five pieces and not a brass more. I'll have to scrape chiricobals off the hull before I can go anywhere in her."
"Twenty-eight." The navigator tried to sound immova ble, but his resolve was weakening as he could smell the end of the barter. "Surely she is worth that?"
Lyara sighed and shook her head. "Twenty-five, or I take my business elsewhere." She didn't have to try to sound immovable, for she really was. Thinking of what Vandor would say if he heard the price this man was demanding for the little craft made her cringe.
"You're a thief, but I accept." The navigator knew when he had better stop insisting. "She's yours, then." He held out a shaking hand for the coins.
"You probably stole this boat in the first place," Lyara retorted while carefully counting every piece of the golden metal she placed in the man's grubby palm. "Only a thief would be so anxious to sell her."
Jilan watched her complete the transaction in all the traditional ways, his eyes drifting to the dilapidated hulk from time to time. In the months since their return from the Kauwlut homelands, he had found few occasions to doubt Lyara's judgment; but the condition of this boat and her enthusiastic bartering for it was putting his trust in her to a severe test.
For her part, Lyara was pleased with her new purchase and not at all bothered that the little craft may have been stolen from her previous legal owner. The papers she now held would protect her from any problems in case the boat were stolen, giving her at the very least a refund of her specie. At her breast, Topiara was a happy and warm presence.
The navigator hastily pouched the specie in a limply empty pouch that hung from his belt and scuttled off with a shallow bow to Sharin and the waiting men. Jilan watched the little man disappear with obvious distaste, and then turned back to Lyara and her boat. "Are you sure this thing is going to float, Lyara? It looks like . . ."
"I know what it looks like, Jilan," Lyara smiled wickedly. "That's part of the reason I bought it. Only somebody who is familiar with the ways of the sea could tell at a glance that she's seaworthy. Anybody else, like Vinzen or one of his men, would think she's washed up on the beach abandoned."
Farranby nodded, impressed. "There's only a couple of men who are even slightly able to handle to larger boats, and they're usually out transporting cargo from one place to the other. The rest are indifferent rowers at best. I ought to know," he grinned. "I used to be one."
Sharin shuddered, and then looked questioningly at Lyara. "You know how to handle a boat so we won't all drown, I hope?" It was a bold question, and Lyara gave the girl a second look in surprise.
Jilan snorted. "She is a navigator trained, Sharin. She trained under the Fishing Master before becoming a Guide."
Farranby blinked, Sharin gifted Lyara with an even more respectful gaze, and Lyara coughed in embarrassment. "Look, we've four hours of daylight left. Let's shelter this little skiff over there, under that broken brush and set up camp behind those rocks there," she pointed, "where we can't be seen from the island. If I were Vinzen, I'd be having my men watch the mainland with a regular patrol."
Jilan glanced at Farranby, who nodded and then signaled for him to come along and help pull the skiff out of the water and up where Lyara had indicated.
"What do we do with the ponies?" Sharin asked quietly as she led Shadow and Fleetwind behind the rocks.
"We have no choice but to leave them here," Jilan responded with a grunt before Lyara had a chance. "We won't be leaving for the island until tomorrow, and hope fully we should be back in three days, if all goes well. We can gather fodder for them tonight, and find a nice stream to tether them next to in the morning."
Lyara shook her head quietly as she showed Sharin how to tether the ponies with heavy rocks on their reins, demonstrating the process with Surefoot and Whisper. "I don't think so, Jilan," she contradicted with a neutral tone of voice. "We don't have the slightest idea how long we're going to be on that island, and it wouldn't be fair to any of our ponies to be tied up that long. Better that we delay leaving for the island by a day and pay that old couple we passed a while ago a fair fortune to stable the ponies for us until we return." She and Sharin rejoined the men. "Besides, it will give Farranby a chance to draw out the plan of the island so that we know where it is we want to go once we get there."
"Do we know we can trust that old couple, Lyara?" Jilan worried back, brows furrowed. "What if they're part of Vinzen's organization?"
Lyara glanced at Farranby, who shook his head. "Not likely, Jilan. They used to own the island before Vinzen's one and only term as district administrator. Until then, he had actually kept an honest lease on the property; but once he had the necessary power, he saw to it that those poor people lost control of the land for supposed 'unpaid taxes.' I doubt sincerely if they would mind at all stabling our ponies if they knew what we were about."
Lyara looked around the circle of faces. "All right, then. This is what we're going to do tomorrow. Sharin and Farranby will stay here and collect whatever herbs and plants Sharin feels she'll need for our plans. Jilan and I will take the ponies back to the old couple and explain what we want and pay them well for their trouble. We should be back here sometime late in the afternoon. That gives us another good night's sleep before we launch the skiff."
Sharin and Farranby looked at each other and nodded agreement, and Jilan looked at Lyara in proud confidence. "Sounds like a good plan, Lyara," he said quietly, his eyes on her and his gaze warm.
Topiara warmed ever so briefly on Lyara's breast, and she blushed at both the suggestion Topiara flashed at her as well as the emotion in Jilan's glance.
Even though the rocks hid the light from the campfire from any watchful eyes from across the channel, Lyara and Farranby were both in agreement that the cook fire remain small and very close to the rocks themselves. Sharin's stew had one of Jilan's treasured tubers in it, making the meal hearty enough despite the small size.
Backs propped comfortably enough against the rocks, the four friends sat close together to conserve their body heat in the damp chill that seeped from the cold waters of the channel. Farranby had opened his cloak and wrapped it about Sharin's thin shoulders, and the young girl had leaned against his firm arm and shoulder gratefully. Lyara, after a brief pause, had finally allowed Jilan to wrap her shoulders in his cloak and use her cloak to wrap their legs and feet. A few paces away, the five ponies blew and nickered softly and contentedly in the darkness.
"Do you think Vinzen knows what I look like, Farranby?" Lyara asked suddenly, leaning forward so that the dim firelight flickered in her face. "Would one of those mystics be enough of an artist to have sketched my likeness?"
Farranby sniffed in scorn while shaking his head. "The class of mystic Vinzen attracts, like the rest of the scum that work for him, rarely have any talent other than the obvious, Lyara. No, it would be more likely that he recognize me than know what you look like."
Jilan shifted to turn to look at Farranby. "That's right! What are you going to do? You won't be able to get onto the island."
"I've already figured that one out, Jilan," Lyara patted her companion's chest with an easy familiarity that caught Jilan completely by surprise. "I'll take Farranby across before light and come back here, docking the skiff. Then we'll go over to the docks and offer our services. If Farranby's right, nobody will recognize any of us."
"I know I'm supposed to cook," Sharin began thought fully. "But what are you going to offer that Vinzen wants?" she asked, one hand waving from beneath the cloak at Jilan and Lyara.
"Lyara's a tracker," Farranby said bluntly. "Vinzen can always use them. As for Jilan, let him be a dissolute aristocratic adventurer whose tastes have led him in darker directions than most." The former steward smiled bitterly in the dim and flickering firelight at the Talandri. "Do you think you can become the damned scoundrel?"
Jilan sighed. "I can remember how several of my old friends used to act, so yes, Farranby. I can be a damned scoundrel."
"Good," Farranby nodded and leaned back into the shadows. "I can take your bow and arrows with me when Lyara takes me over to the island. When the potion has the men asleep, you can retrieve them from me."
"When the time comes, Vinzen is mine." Sharin's voice held an unusual and hard tone.
"He can be both of ours, my dear," Farranby soothed, putting an arm around the young girl. "We both have good reasons to want him. Surely we can share the pleasure."
"As long as I can have my questions answered first," Lyara added, her voice equally steely. "After that, you can do with him as you will."
Jilan shook his head, making Lyara glance over at him. "Bloodthirsty, aren't we?" was all he would say.
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