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Topiara - Chapter 2
By the second day of the long journey to Tandri, the smell of the sea air had disappeared and in its place was a full-bodied, earthy smell of farmland. Lyara, on the small bay pony she had chosen from Vandor's herd, felt rising in her an excitement as even the smells of her surroundings became unfamiliar. After so many years locked in service to the sea, she was finally pursuing her future as she wanted and not as any master dic tated. At her side, the dour Binyd, Vandor's trusted steward, rode silently. Although he rarely had anything to say other than just to his master, Lyara's decision to leave the sea-faring profession had put yet another barrier between them that neither of them chose to breach. If it were not for Binyd's knowledge of the roads to Tandri, Lyara would have gladly left the sour old man's company far behind and ridden off by her self.
Behind them, the Chandu Foothills rose like a wall between the interior of the land and the rocky seacoast. Lyara's head turned first one way and then the other, taking in the strange sights of green farmland and grazing cattle. No longer pro tected from the sun's heat by the cool sea breezes, Lyara's cloak lay rolled and tied to her saddle and the top thongs of her jerkin were untied as well to let the movement of air cool her neck and throat. A white kerchief was tied over her head, holding her hair back out of her face and protecting her from the hot sun. Her tiny pouch was now well concealed beneath her trousers waistband; and the lodestone, her former master's final gift, hung under the jerkin and bumped comfortably against Lyara's chest.
Although sparing with his words, Binyd's saddlebags held a varied assortment of foodstuffs that he portioned out with a generous hand. Strips of dried and smoked fish, hard cakes with chunks of cheese, as well as the ever-present bladders of warm bitters made a nourishing and filling travel fare. Binyd knew several sheltered havens along the dusty road in which to camp comfortably and safely for the night. Lyara, at the outset of the journey, had tried to question the man about the city of Tandri; but what few remarks Binyd had made in reply were so inadequate that she gave up her questioning and resigned her self to waiting and seeing for herself.
It was just as well, for no words could have prepared Lyara for the crush of humanity within the city gates of Tandri, capitol of Talandria. Sharp eyed, yellow-cloaked guards kept watch from the top of the walls on the milling crowds in the Market Square as well as the foot and pony traffic moving slowly through the narrow streets. Noisy, playing children and yapping dogs competed for space everywhere and added to the hum of humanity that was the strangest element of the city to Lyara's meager experience. From the high windows, linens flapped in the hot breeze to dry and homemakers chattered loudly across the abyss at each other to catch up on the day's gossip. The grey, stone walls of the buildings rose like cliffs on either side of the narrow streets and made it hard to breathe for someone who could remember only the wide-open spaces of the open ocean and sparse civilization of the hovels squatting outside walls of the Sea Master's Hall. A suffocating and unexpected sense of homesickness made Lyara wonder if she had actually made the right decision for herself. Only by telling herself that a Guide would often spend time in the wide-open spaces, free of the crush of the city, did she remain sure of her goal.
While Binyd took care of his master's business in the cramped stall of the fish vender, Lyara waited patiently for him outside, standing as far out of the crowd as possible and holding the reins of their ponies. She felt herself totally out of place, and must have looked it as well, for several times she caught sight of a passerby staring at her with a questioning or disdainful look on their faces. One or two well-dressed, handsome youths tried to strike up a conversation with her, but to them she merely shook her head shyly. It had not been until she started looking closely at the people in the market square that she truly noticed that nearly all of the people around her were blonde-haired and blue-eyed, in a drastic contrast to her own black hair and eyes. She stopped wondering why some of the glances aimed in her direction were so obviously hostile then. She looked alien to them and remained aloof to any advances - rebuffing them without even deigning to speak. And, as was ever present in her thoughts, Lyara remembered that she was in fact Kauwlut. Master Vandor's other apprentices had rarely let her forget that fact after all.
It took a good deal of self-discipline to remain mounted and waiting patiently for Binyd to finish his master's business. After what had seemed like hours, the steward emerged from the stall and remounted with a satisfied smile. "Did it go well," Lyara asked, anxious to hear the sound of a familiar voice and accent.
"Well enough," Binyd answered a little more expansively than before. "There will be a market for some of our latest catches because of the storms on the eastern coast. Fishing there has been poor and seldom for weeks now. But enough of that — Vandor gave me specific instructions to take you on to Master Lyndon as soon as I finished here."
Binyd turned his pony and started down the street, leaving an astonished Lyara to watch his diminishing form before she collected her wits sufficiently to knee her mount after him. Heart pounding in her throat with excitement and apprehension, Lyara followed the steward through a maze of twisting streets, each of which looked exactly the same to her as the next — stone buildings crowded together on either side of the cobblestone lane. Their steady progress moved them closer and closer to the heart of the city — from the rough and ugly neighborhoods into more stately and airy ones that boasted occasional trees peering over the tops of high walls and streets that were a little less narrow than before. Had Lyara known Binyd less well, she would never have noticed that even he breathed easier in the better neighbor hoods. Finally, the steward pulled his pony to a halt before a barred gate and reached out to a thick rope and pulled to sound a deep-toned bell. Immediately, a small boy dressed in brown leather opened the gates to let them enter a clean, cobble stoned courtyard.
Lyara could not contain her curiosity at her first look inside the walls of an estate. Those same walls that had shown nothing but stony uniformity to the street were hidden skillfully from view within by a curtain of tall-growing shrubs. The buildings themselves exuded subtle wealth and stability, being built with understated elegance and stoic grace. The pillars that held up the roof that extended several paces past the grand front doors were constructed with a simple grace that went well with their utilitarian purposes. Three stories high, the main house showed six windows each to the enclosed courtyard; and Lyara could see movement behind a few of those staring openings to the world. The estate of the Guides Service was nowhere as large as the Sea Hall where she had dwelled for all of her remembered life, but Lyara relaxed slightly as she realized that this was the place she soon would come to call home.
Binyd, having been to the estate several times before and therefore duly unimpressed, dismounted at the base of the wide steps that led to the front door and had to clear his throat to get Lyara's attention before he could motion her to do the same. The leather-garbed boy darted forward and took charge of the reins of the ponies and led them to a long hitching post at one side of the courtyard where fresh hay and water awaited the animals within easy reach.
"Come along, then, "Binyd grumbled in his more accustomed sourness, as if Lyara's stretching and looking here and there disgusted him, and the curious girl followed his through the ornately-carved double doors of the great house. Another youth in brown leather greeted them in the entrance hall, and to him Binyd growled, "I bring one who wishes to join the Guides. We need to speak to Lyndon, please."
"Wait here," the youth instructed, and disappeared down a hallway into the depths of the mansion.
"You have the letter from Vandor ready," Binyd asked Lyara in a businesslike manner.
"I have it right here," she answered in a similar tone, and pulled the heavy, folded parchment from beneath her breast bindings.
"Then you will have no need for me to remain with you after the introductions," Binyd stated with a nod. "I have done my duty in bringing you safely here — the rest will be up to you."
"Thank you for your help, Binyd," Lyara bowed her head.
The youth who had met them inside reappeared from a door part of the way down the hall and gestured for them to come to him. "Master Lyndon will see you now. Please come this way." With a shallow bow, he motioned the two into a richly paneled room.
Along the walls hung detailed maps of the land and each of the provinces. Below the maps, several shelves were given to displaying statues of many of the gods of the land. Lyara noticed a small figurine of Mah Myla below a map of the western seacoast she had just left. Her footsteps were cushioned by a thick rug of a rich, golden color that covered the entire floor of the room from one wall to the other. Before the two, huge windows overlooking the courtyard, a carved desk covered with stacks of paperwork. Seated quietly behind the desk, a slight and greying man watched her with discerning eyes that took note of her every action.
Binyd bowed deeply, and Lyara belatedly did the same. "I am Binyd, Master Vandor's steward," Binyd said formally.
"I remember you well from the last time I visited Vandor," answered an amazingly deep and rich bass voice that belied the slight frame and stature of the speaker. "You bring me another of Vandor's graduated apprentices?"
Binyd bowed his head in acknowledgement. "She bears a letter of introduction from Vandor, so I will present to you Lyara. She is past-apprentice navigator from Master Vandor's Sea Hall." The steward bowed again. "And now, pressing busi ness forces me to take my leave early, Master Lyndon." The steward turned to Lyara. "Mah Myla guide your way, young Lyara."
"May she take you safely home again, back to Master Vandor, Binyd," Lyara responded softly. "And thank you again."
With another deep bow, Binyd turned and left the room.
Feeling self-conscious and on display, Lyara allowed her gaze to again search the statues for any other that might seem a fami liar deity.
Lyndon allowed the girl time to collect her wits in silence and then spoke gently. "Tell me, girl," he asked in that deep, vibrant voice, "Do you see your childhood god amongst those here?"
"What?" Lyara had become bemused by the numerous statues, and the voice had startled her.
"I asked, have you found your childhood god amongst the multitude of statues yet?"
"I've found Mah Myla, whom I have honored since coming to Master Vandor's Hall," Lyara hedged.
"It was your powers of observation I was testing," Lyndon explained. "One wishing to enter the Guides Service needs have a fairly sound idea of his or her surroundings with little time spent in observation." The Guides Master chose not to question the fact that this new Guide-to-be had managed to deftly side step his actual question. "Had you not found your Mah Myla yet, I might have had doubts about your abilities to learn, despite anything Vandor might have written in his letter."
The Guides Master extended his hand for the parchment Lyara still held. Feeling humbled by the momentary exchange, Lyara handed him the letter of introduction with shaking hands. Lyndon pointed the trembling girl to a comfortable seat in front of his desk, and Lyara sat down obediently while the Master opened the large sheet of parchment and read its con tents in silence. Then he tossed it on the desk in front of him.
"So, you have your journeyman's lodestone, but don't want to use it only on the open sea. What is more, you were able to pilot a small boat heavily laden with silver fish safely to port in one of those treacherous storms that come to the west coast. Vandor says that he knows of some of his fully qualified fisher folk who might have swamped a boat under such condition. Very impressive." He leaned his chin on his folded arms and studied the girl in front of him carefully.
"Then again, Vandor had never sent me anyone who was not already highly skilled in the art of navigation and seamanship; he's just never sent me anyone with such a high recommendation. Tell me," and the Guides Master's eyes sparkled with barely con cealed interest, "why have you chosen the Guides Service over remaining with your former Master who obviously values your skills?"
Lyara looked at her hands, and then back at the Guides Master. "I was raised at the seaside, but not born to it. I was a Kauwlut captive sold to Vandor six years ago." At her admission, Lyndon's eyes opened wider for a brief moment, and then he nodded in understanding and motioned for her to continue. "I feel I must travel, learn of this land that is my home now. Perhaps then I can forget that I am Kauwlut - even though I can remember nothing of my former life - and become a true Talandri."
"Sooo," Lyndon drew out as he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. "You search for your iden tity. A Kauwlut bond-slave with no memory of your Homelands?" Lyara's face colored, and she nodded in embarrassment.
"I suppose that is as good a reason as any to become a Guide," Lyndon mused aloud. He leaned forward again. "Did Vandor explain to you just what entering the Guides Service entails? You will be asked to serve at least one year as an advanced apprentice, while you learn the skills that will guide you over land as well as those you have already mastered for the sea. After that, there is one year guaranteed service as a Guide, taking any assignment I see fit to send you on and receiving only such pay as I as Master deter mine as your worth for your efforts. After that time, you are again free to either remain in the Guides or seek other employment. Do you understand and accept these terms?"
Lyara looked up, her embarrassment retreating. "Yes, sir, although he said nothing about the pay or the assignments. I know the skills I learn here will be of use to me whatever I choose, and are worth the two years service to learn them, if you will have me."
"My dear Lyara - what an unusual name, so definitely Kauwlut - if I had not already accepted you, I would not have bothered to tell you of the requirements of my service. You will start your apprenticeship tomorrow, after you get a good rest from your journey." Lyndon picked a small bell from among the chaos of papers and rang it and the same youth that had escorted Lyara and Binyd in to see him opened the door immediately in response. "See Lyara settled in the apprentice's quarters, but not with the first-years." Lyndon looked back at Lyara. "This is Karlo; he will be your monitor until you settle in and will explain our life here to you. He will show you where the ponies are stabled and then to your quarters. Do you have any other questions for me at this time?"
"Only one, sir," Lyara said, puzzled. "You said I was not to be quartered with the first-years. But am I not a first-year myself, a beginner in the Guides?"
Lyndon smiled. "You misunderstand the term. I not only accept new Guides from other disciplines, but I also purchase and train indentured captives with promise, even as Vandor trained you to the sea. There are the first-years; those who know nothing at all of Talandria including the language. You will be with the cheretis — those who have only two years left of their contracts. Go now and get yourself settled."
Karlo bowed to his master, with Lyara quickly following his example. Taking the new recruit by the elbow, Karlo led her from the office. "So I'm to monitor you for the time being," the tall young man said in a friendly tone as they walked down the hall and out of the main house into yet another courtyard, different from the one Lyara had stood in before. "Well, the first piece of advice I should give you is to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut unless under orders from Master Lyndon himself. The cheretis are a closed group, being freed men; and even though you are freedman yourself, you will have to prove yourself to the others before they will accept you."
"Are you chereti too?" Lyara asked curiously.
"No, I'm chatori, in my final year's service. I have six months left to serve as a journeyman before my time is up and I can . . . Well, you will learn all about that later on."
"How is Lyndon as Guides Master?"
"Don't be fooled by his easy manner just now," Karlo warned seriously. "He can be as harsh as any Master when one of his Service runs afoul of his rules. But, if you keep your mind on what you are supposed to be learning or the party you are guiding, he will pretty much leave you to yourself. He has no favorites among us, so don't try it if you are used to getting ahead in that way."
"I have no need to use such tactics," Lyara retorted, stung. "I wouldn't have been in my former master's service for so many years more than those who entered with me if I were used to begging for favors like that."
Karlo opened the door to the low building across the courtyard from the main house, yet put his other hand on Lyara's arm to delay her entrance. "I didn't mean to accuse you, but we have had some who thought to get ahead of the others unfairly. I would be doing you no favor if I didn't at least give a brief warning that neither Lyndon nor the rest of us will tolerate that kind of behavior."
"I appreciate your warning, although it is unnecessary," Lyara conceded, touching the arm on hers so that she could move forward into the building. "I do not now nor have ever wanted special treatment. I came here to learn to be a Guide, and that's all I intend to do."
"Be warned, young westerner," Karlo shook his head tiredly, as if he had heard the same words more than once before. "That may be all you came here for at first, but very few of us leave here with a Guide's skills without having first found at least one more reason later on."
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