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Topiara - Chapter 3
Karlo had been correct: the cheretis were indeed a very closed group. The only space available was with the only other female chereti, Iliria, who looked Lyara up and down in quick and critical assessment before turning back to her maps and charts in apparent disinterest. Lyara paused for a moment before entering the room, considering if she should inquire as to which of the two bunks had been occupied; but then moved in with a touch of confidence when she noted that one of the pillows looked less than perfect — as if a head had been resting on it only a little while earlier. If there had been any remaining doubt as to her selection, it was dispelled when Iliria glanced at her as she bounced on her selected bunk and returned once more to her studies without a word of complaint.
With a patient Karlo watching with a neutral smile, Lyara deposited her bundle of belongings on the bunk, opened the small chest that sat at the end of the bunk, removed the lock contained within and placed her bundle in the security of a locked chest. The lock was controlled with a small monitor-stone, which picked up Lyara's personal energy field at her first touch and encoded it into its memory. Monitor-stone locks were expensive and the most secure kind of lock available, and Lyara was impressed both with it and the relative spaciousness of her new quarters. She remembered that the navigator-apprentices in the Sea Hall had been grouped together in large barracks of ten people each with no privacy or personal property worth stealing owned by any.
"Come on," Karlo urged with a hint of controlled humor. "I have a great deal more to show you before mealtime. You can get used to your new quarters in good time. In the meanwhile, however, I have to be in my diplomacy class not long from now and I want you to at least know where the dining hall and your first topography classroom is located."
Lyara looked up in surprise. "Will I begin instruction today?"
"No," Karlo replied, motioning her to lock her chest and come along, "but my classes are not yet done for the day. You may be able to rest the afternoon away, but I can't."
"If you two don't get out of here and let me study, I'm going to fail my pathfinder's test and be set back a term," Iliria grumbled ill-naturedly. "By all means, Karlo, take that black-hair around to see the sights."
Karlo's face developed a tightness, and he grasped Lyara's arm and dragged her from the room before she had a chance to respond. "Don't mind her," he soothed. "Her family fell out of favor with the King, and with it disintegrated any chance she ever had of making a good marriage within the nobility. So don't take any of her comments personally; she is equally ugly with the rest of us."
Lyara shrugged and allowed Karlo to lead her back down the hall. "I don't mind. I was called worse things than that when I first came to Master Vandor's service -- about a year after I was . . ."
"Captured, right?" Karlo nodded as they walked along. "I couldn't help noticing that your name is unusual for a Talandri girl, so I guessed that you must be one of the captives taken on a raid into the Kauwlut Homelands a few years back?"
Lyara watched the face of her monitor carefully. "Will it make much difference here? My origins, I mean."
Karlo shook his head. "I doubt it. Master Lyndon makes sure that not only is there no favoritism; but there is no prejudice based on former craft associations, origin, or any other criteria anybody might dream up." He threw his head back in a motion toward the chamber they had left only a few minutes ago. "Iliria as aristocracy has the most trouble of all of us accepting anyone new to the Guides, especially if they are not full-blood Talandri."
Lyara sighed. As much as the situation here in the city sounded much more equitable than the one she had left behind, she was no longer separated from the notoriously haughty Tandri aristocracy as she had been in her remote coastal home. Her fingers reached up and stroked the fur and claw talisman she had braided into her hair for the first time that morning before entering the city, finding the softness soothing and strengthening to frayed nerves. As unfamiliar as the fetish was to her incomplete memory, the action felt natural and right. If Karlo noticed that his charge was communing with the touch-symbol of an unfamiliar deity, he did not mention it.
The door of her chamber now shut against any but her roommate, Lyara leaned against the wall and put her face in her hands in mental and physical exhaustion. Master Vandor's trade had never included much in the way of book-learning, except to learn to read a general map of the Talandri coastline bordering the Shipyem Ocean. In the two days since she had arrived, however, she had been subjected to all manner of examinations to determine if she could read Talandri and maps of all kinds. There had been a few raised eyebrows amongst the other cheretis when she was sent to a low-level class to learn to read the language she had been speaking for years -- as if they didn't take into account that she was indeed a foreigner to their land. What was more, she had then been loaded down with books and charts depicting the geography and topography of Talandria.
Karlo had been given a respite from his own classes to continue his preliminary monitoring of Lyara, and so had been an ever-present personality with whom to contend. Lyara was thankful for the closed doors and absent Iliria for giving her even this short time to herself -- time to think and absorb all the new sensations, language and knowledge that seemed to be pouring in on her from all sides. In a gesture that had become almost unthinking, she stroked her furry fetish, ignoring once again the shells of Mah Myla which had been her source of strength in her previous studies.
Already the rays of the sun were beginning to redden as the day began to die, and Lyara slumped over to the studytable near her bunk to take advantage of those last beams of light to study yet again the markings on the parchment that comprised the fluid alphabet of the Talandri language. Even Master Lyndon had appeared in her classroom long enough to impress on his newest student the importance of learning to read above all else. "How shall you read the names of the landmarks," he had queried as an example, "if you cannot read to begin with?"
Behind her, the door opened and Iliria dragged in, seeming to be at least as tired and disheartened as Lyara. Clenched in her hand was the smallest lodestone Lyara had ever seen on a worked copper chain. Forgetting for the first time whom it was she was speaking to, Iliria shook the fist that held the stone in the direction of her new roommate. "They expect me to find my way with only this?! No maps, no charts; just this stone that hangs only one way?"
Lyara debated with herself, then turned from her own studies. "A lodestone always tells you where you sit with the rest of the world whether you be on land or sea, Iliria."
Iliria shot Lyara a strange look which combined loathing with a silent plea for help. "That's what Factor Borigan said too," she fairly snarled, "but he said that the explainations for how to use it will come just before the test."
Lyara cocked her head curiously. "What test, Iliria?"
"They take you out on a remote hillside about six day's walk from here, blindfold you, spin you about until you loose consciousness and then leave you to wake up and find your own way down the hillside and into the nearest village."
Lyara shrugged. "That wouldn't be too difficult, if you just remember what direction the nearest village is from where they take you."
Iliria flopped herself onto her stomach on her bunk and tossed the lodestone onto her studytable. "And just how do you figure that out, if you're so knowing about all this?" she asked arrogantly.
Lyara ignored the question and asked another of her own. "Just when is this test of yours, Iliria?"
"In a nine-day," the Talandri frowned. "Why?"
"I will bargain with you," Lyara said, turning her chair so she could face her roommate more directly. "If Factor Borigan says that I can help you learn your lodestone, I will show you how easy it is to find your way without anything else."
Iliria sat up, her face a study in suspicion. "Alright. But what will you want with me in return?"
Lyara nodded at the alphabet on her studytable. "I'm having trouble learning the writing. I offer a fair exchange of time -- mine to help you for yours to help me."
"Starting when?" Iliria's suspicions were not yet laid to rest.
"When you return from your test?" Lyara suggested. "By then you'll know how much time I spent in helping you and so how much time you will be expected to help me."
Iliria looked as if she were about to accept the offer, and then she backed away and shook her head. "Why should I trust your word that you can help me learn that wretched stone? How do I know that you know more about it than I do?"
"Ask Master Lyndon if you don't believe me," Lyara answered back without sounding offended. "Before I came here, I spent six years learning navigation from Master Vandor; so I know the skills of using a lodestone quite well."
Iliria sat up straighter. "If what you say is true, then I agree to your offer of an exchange." She hesitated, then extended her hand. "It is a fair offer."
Lyara shook the hand offered to her, then turned back to her studies; and Iliria sank back onto her bed tiredly, although she watched the black-haired girl pore over her alphbet until the light was totally gone and both girls were ready to sleep.
"But yours is so much larger, Lyara! I can't tell which end is the different one like you can!" Iliria stared at her dangling stone in frustration and confusion.
"Look," Lyara sighed, dangling her own lodestone next to Iliria's, "What you can do is wait until both stones stop swaying and turning, then mark that side of your stone that is pointing in the same direction as my north-edge is."
Iliria held her breath to calm herself down and waited as Lyara had suggested until the two stones hung motionlessly side by side. Then she whispered, as if her very words would disturb the stones, "What shall I mark it with?"
"Use your dagger," came the hushed suggestion. "Lower both stones to the table now so you can work a mark into that side of your stone that corresponds with mine."
Again the girls worked carefully and together to accomplish their goal, and then Iliria set to work gouging a narrow slot in the top of her stone that matched the protrusion on Lyara's stone that the black-haired girl called "north." In the meanwhile, Lyara pulled over a few of the charts that both had been studying -- although on different levels. "Now, since you know which hilltop you are going to be taken to and in which village the Factors will be waiting, you can find out your directions just as I said. . ."
Iliria stopped her gouging and watched as Lyara turned the chart to match the directions in the arrowed cross in the upper corner. "See," she explained once more with patience, "If the lodestone hangs north, then see -- take the stone to the hill there and hang it over... that's right. Now, see? The village is in this direction when the stone hangs north... no, no, look again!" Keeping her voice supportive and patient, Lyara showed her roommate yet again and again how to use her stone until, finally, Iliria looked up with a smile of wonder on her face.
"You mean," she stammered in shock, "you mean... that's all there is to it?"
"I told you it wasn't as hard as you were making it," Lyara quipped, daring to show a bit of humor now that Iliria had finally succeeded in her task.
"But Borigan made it sound so..."
Lyara chuckled and shook her head. "I asked Karlo, and he told me that Borigan is no marine navigator, but learned his lodestone from another Guide who didn't depend on it all that much. It's only lately that Master Lyndon has insisted that all Guides use them in the same manner as the seafolk."
"That's right," a deep voice spoke softly behind the hunched girls, but its recognition set both girls jumping in surprise and attention.
"Master Lyndon," Lyara stammered. Vainly she searched her memory to see if this bit of teaching had been indeed permitted, or whether Borigan had just managed to get both of them in trouble. "I thought I had permission..."
"Rest easy, Lyara," the Master's deep voice soothed, and Lyndon put his huge hand warmly on her shoulder. "Borigan came to me with your question, and it was from me he received permission for you to try your hand at tutoring navigation. And you proved my point to him most effectively."
"Sir?"
Lyndon glanced at Iliria. "You've had trouble with your pathfinder courses ever since you signed into service with us, haven't you?" he asked kindly, his tone keeping the proud Talandri from finding any excuse for taking offense.
"It seemed to make no sense, Master," Iliria sighed, then brightened. "But now . . ."
"I heard," Lyndon smiled his pleasure and gifted her also with a warm hand on her shoulder as congratulations. "I had an idea that Lyara might be the one to get you past your troubles, if you would allow her to try to help you."
The former noblewoman turned her head and smiled. The short, blonde hair over her eyes she brushed out of the way with a casual hand. "She made me the kind of offer I couldn't afford not to accept."
"The writing and reading, Master," Lyara explained quickly. "I just can't seem to get the connection . . ."
"May you be as good a teacher of that subject as Lyara was in this, Iliria," Lyndon smiled encouragingly at the girls. "I have great hopes for the both of you -- especially now that you've found each other and can help the other." He looked again at Iliria. "Do you still believe birth has an influence over those whom you should give your loyalty or friendship?"
Iliria started to draw herself up, then looked over at Lyara. Her proud facade crumbled. "No, Master Lyndon. I guess that is one of the most incorrect assumptions I've ever made."
"And," the Guides Master turned a serious face to Lyara, "do you still consider all Talandri aristocracy as useless jackadaws?" Lyara scrunched her face and shook her head after taking a look at Iliria.
"Good," Lyndon nodded again, even more pleased. "Then the both of you learned more than just academics with this. The cornerstone of being a Guide is being able to be on equal terms with anyone who might wish to hire your services and being able to treat them with tolerance and understanding rather than dislike or hatred."
Both girls listened carefully to his words and, for the first time, heard the wisdom they contained. Slowly and seriously they nodded together.
"Continue on, then," Lyndon said finally as he turned to go. "You shall not be disturbed again until the mealbell rings." He paused. "Oh, Lyara. When you are finished here, come to my office; there is something that needs to be discussed."
Lyara nodded, and then turned back over the charts with Iliria to begin once more. Iliria, however, did not yet wish to look at her lodestone; and she frowned in concentration. "That's odd. Unless he intends for you to teach the navigation class yourself, I can't see why he would want to talk to you privately."
Lyara shrugged indifference, but her fingers brushed the fur in her hair ever so quickly. "I'm sure I'll find out all about it later," she sighed. "But, right now, let's work on making sure you understand this correctly, alright?"
Master Lyndon's tone of voice had been less than heartening when he called out for Lyara to enter his office. She hesitated before pushing the heavy door open, having a hard time keeping in mind that he had been encouraging just a little while earlier. She gathered her courage, touched the fur and claw for strength, and entered the room, but then skidded to a halt as she got her first sight of an angry Stepan stalking the length of the room toward her, hands extended towards her. "I told Master Lyndon this was all a monstrous mistake, darling; that you were supposed to be mated to me but got sent away first before the ceremony could take place..."
Lyara's blood ran cold in her veins, and she dodged the outstretched hands to dash for the safety of her Master behind the desk. "What is he doing here?" she demanded wildly, forgetting to whom it was she was speaking in her distress. "Get him away from me!"
Lyndon pushed her into his own, comfortable chair before drawing himself to his full height and coming out from behind the desk. "I thought as much," he began, and even the quiet of his voice roared. "You try to default me of the services of one of my new cheretis?"
"She is mine!" Stepan blushed even redder as his anger grew. "My father sent her away, but I still want her as my mate. I have a right to take a mate from amongst my father's people; and she was under my father's jurisdiction when I asked."
"Lyara?" Lyndon turned a questioning look to her as she cowered behind his desk. "Is there any truth in what this young man says?"
"The truth is that he tried to force himself on me while we were out on a day the oracle said to stay ashore. He tricked me into thinking that he had his father's permission. And then," she glared at Stepan from the safety of distance and obstacles between them, "after Master Vandor had accepted my freedom-price, he came storming in demanding to be mated to me. Master Vandor gave me the choice. I chose freedom and service with the Guides."
Lyndon's eyes closed into slits. "Does your father know you are in the city, Stepan?" he asked, and noting the quick passing of a squirm of fear, demanded, "Answer your betters, boy, and be quick about it!"
Stepan's face blanched. "No, sir. He does not know."
Lyndon gave a taut smile at Lyara, as if Stepan's words confirmed his suspicions. "If he did know, would he have allowed you to come?"
Much of the arrogance drained away. "No, sir."
The Master's head cocked in a questioning and superior angle. "And still you came?"
"I..." Stepan stretched out a hand once more to Lyara. "I just wanted..."
Lyara flinched back against the wall to put as much distance between herself and the hand. "I don't care what you want, Stepan," she snapped in fear and anger. "I will not mate with you nor will I return to the tutelage of the Fishing Master. I am bound to Master Lyndon for two years, and I will serve those years as I agreed and wanted."
"Now," Lyndon stated quietly and ominously, "do I call for help in removing you from my hall, or do you leave of your own volition?"
"Lyara..."
"No." Lyndon's denial cut off any further utterances from the mariner's son. "Leave or be removed." The Guides Master placed himself directly between Stepan and Lyara with hands on his hips. Stepan tried one last time to peek around the formidible Master, then sighed his defeat.
"I shall wait, Lyara," he promised as he began backing toward the office door. "Two years you say you have to serve; then I'll wait for you and find you again when you no longer owe time to the Guides."
Lyara shivered at the thought and closed her eyes; her fingers sought and found the soft fur fetish with its hidden claw and held tightly to it, forgotten words connected somehow with it knocking at the back door of her memory yet staying tantalizingly out of reach. She did not open her eyes even when she heard the door close, supposedly behind Stepan's departing figure, so intent she was on listening to the far-away whispers.
"He's gone, Lyara," Lyndon whispered finally, breaking the tentative hold she had on the whispers; and Lyara opened her eyes slowly. "I will send a message to Vandor, explaining what occurred here today, so that he can guard against it ever happening again. I cannot tolerate one of my Guides having to look over his or her shoulder perpetually against unwilling capture."
"Thankyou, Master," Lyara whispered, suddenly terribly exhausted.
"Are you alright?" Lyndon inquired, concerned that she had become so pale and wan.
"Yes, sir." she responded, making an effort to look more lively. "Will there be anything else?"
"No, Lyara; you can go now." Lyndon looked at her closely. "Are you sure you are alright?"
"Yes, sir," she replied again. "I'm alright, really. I just wasn't prepared to face him again."
"I can understand that," Lyndon agreed. "Go, then, and rest. Tomorrow I will make sure you begin a class in self-defense so that you never need fear Stepan or any other. I should have remembered before this that Vandor doesn't need to teach self-defense in his trade." He nodded at the door. "Go on, get some rest."
Iliria was waiting for her as she exited the office. "I saw that man," she inquired curiously. "He was so angry when he left. Who was he?"
Lyara looked at her and saw genuine concern and friendship in the face of the Talandri girl. She sighed, revealing her fatigue. "Someone I pray to the . . ." Oh, the words were so close to the surface as to be frustrating! "I hope I never have to look on his face again!"
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