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Topiara - Chapter 7
Mining Master Fyodan was taller than most men, well muscled in the manner of all miners, with a shock of silver hair that hung down below his ears. With light grey eyes, it seemed that the man was without any coloration. Lyara told him of the events of her journey as plainly as possible, all the while looking straight into those strange eyes; and could not say later why she had omitted to tell of the stone she had taken from Karlo as he died. Farranby at the time gave her a wide-eyed and questioning stare but did nothing to bring Fyodan's attention to any possible omission.
"So," Fyodan said after he had thought about Lyara's story for a moment, "you say you have lost your partner Guide, and you caution that there might be further trouble. However, if, as you say, Kaivan Korlandoro and his band made the attack, wouldn't any Guide face the same dangers? Perhaps you will pass far from him on the way back?"
"Believe me, sir; if I knew such a thing for certain, I would be the first to gladly leave for the return journey with your daughter," Lyara answered smoothly. "I have reason to believe otherwise, and cannot guarantee your daughter's safety with us under the circumstances."
Fyodan's eyes narrowed. "You know more of this matter than you are saying?"
Lyara refused to be intimidated by the lofty tone of voice, remembering with a stab of grief the manner Karlo had used under similar circumstances. "Sir, if I do, it would be for my own master's ears only. But in reality, I have only my hunches to guide me; and they tell me that the danger is not yet past."
"Hunches! Since when do the Guides allow themselves to be governed by hunches?" Fyodan strode from his desk to one of the tall, narrow windows. His gaze moved over the tall walls to the blue-tinged peaks beyond. "Still, you are correct in voicing your reservations now, before my daughter is committed to your care; and you would not be the first nor the last to listen to hunches. Also, it is only right that you inform me of the fact that this is your very first contract, so that if I decide not to entrust my daughter to you it would be because you would be the only Guide, and an inexperienced one at that." He turned from his gazing and smiled at Lyara. "I must commend you for your honesty. I know of many who would not have allowed such scruples to come between them and their first large purse."
Lyara gave a shallow bow. "I'm glad you at least understand, sir. I would not have you think me a coward; but, then again, perhaps it would be safer for your daughter if you did."
Farranby stepped forward from where he had stood quietly in the background, listening. "Sir, from what I have seen to this point, Lyara is no coward. I have made many journeys under the services on many different Guides; and I can assure you that she is fully capable of leading a return trek."
"A coward would not have told me the tale you did, young mistress," Fyodan said with the smile on his face undiminished. "And only a capable Guide would have kept on and not turned back at the first sign of trouble."
Lyara bowed yet again. "I appreciate your words of confidence, sir."
"What would you have me do, then, young Guide?" Fyodan asked curiously, with a sparkle of mischief in his eye. "If you were in my position, would you send your daughter with a Guide who is inexperienced and tells a tale of possible dangers on the trail ahead?"
Lyara shook her head. "I cannot tell you what to do, sir. The decision must be yours."
"I didn't say that I would necessarily follow your advice, girl! I just want to know your thoughts."
Lyara looked over at Farranby, and then back at the Mining Master. "Very well, then. It would depend on whether I was in a rush to have my daughter delivered for a dynastic marriage. If so, I would take the chance since it is so important that she be in Tandri on time. On the other hand, if the welfare of my daughter were of the utmost importance, I would dismiss the inexperienced Guide and wait for another whom I could trust more to see her safely to the city."
Fyodan stared at the Guide for a moment, then burst out laughing. "I asked for your thoughts, and you certainly gave them to me. I must say, Guide Lyara, that if I do choose to send Dynia with you, you would think me unconcerned for her welfare and only worried about furthering my own ends, isn't that so?"
"You asked what I would think if I were in your position, sir," Lyara responded cautiously. "But I am NOT you. Your thoughts and reasonings are bound to differ from mine. Does what I would think of you matter so much?"
"If your verbal thrusts are any sign of how well you fight with a blade, I need have no fears for my daughter, Guide. But think," and Fyodan leaned toward her with a gleam in his eye, "how else am I to judge what sort of person I am thinking of trusting my daughter's life to than draw you out and get your gut reaction?"
Lyara bristled. "I gave you an honest assessment of my experience and skills, and of my fears."
"Yes, yes; and that is all to the good. But there are times when experience counts for nothing unless the person is capable of handling herself well under stress. Your tongue has a sharp edge, but you did not lose your composure." Fyodan nodded approvingly. "That tells me you would probably not lose your wits if you did find yourself in this danger you predict. Dilan's steward speaks well of you too; and that is nothing to ignore either. I have known Farranby for many years, enough to trust his judgement of the Guide I would send my daughter with."
"Then you would have me take charge of your daughter, despite all that I have told you?"
"The danger from the Kauwlut marauders is just a great as any from bandits here in Talandria, or whomever those men who killed your companion were. Who is to say whether I take a greater or lesser chance by sending her with you rather than waiting." Fyodan sounded very confident of his decision, and far from willing to hear further argument on the subject.
Lyara felt her cheeks grow warm. "I will try to live up to the confidence you are showing in me, Master Fyodan. I will do my best to see your daughter delivered safely to Master Dilan's estate in Tandri."
Fyodan nodded. "One word, though. It would be best if you did not discuss your 'hunch' within the hearing of Dynia, my daughter. She would like everyone to think she is the model female, and tends to go into paroxysms when she hears something not of her liking. I don't envy Dilan's son his married life with her."
Farranby tried to stifle a chuckle with only minimal success. "They should make an interesting pair, sir. Koran, Dilan's son, has very little patience with simpering females. You might take the time to warn your girl not to press her hand too hard with her future husband, or she will find herself in a marriage in name only."
Fyodan bowed his head gratefully. "Thank you for the warning, Farranby. I'll tell her what you said; but I don't know how far your warning will penetrate. Dynia is far too used to getting her own way to listen to any warning I may give her. It is she who is pushing for this marriage, not I."
"If she is as headstrong as you claim, Master Fyodan," Lyara interrupted crisply, "I suggest that you warn her also that not only is she under my protection and ward while we are on the road, but I will expect her to do exactly as I say without question. I don't need to worry about her disregarding vital instructions, especially if we ARE in danger."
"You may have a problem there, Guide. Dynia is older than you are."
"Age makes no difference. You may also teller that if I have to tangle with her too often, I will leave her to make her own way. If she wishes to play at being a Guide, I will give her the opportunity to try."
Fyodan sobered quickly. "Those are harsh words, Guide."
"I know, sir. Between you and me, I would not leave her stranded in a wilderness. However, she may travel better and safer if she doesn't know that. I will give my life gladly to protect her, but I don't intend to squander my life because she hasn't the sense to listen to reason simply because she doesn't like the way I talk or what I say."
Fyodan smiled again. "I think you have a good idea, Guide Lyara. I like the way you use your sharp tongue to get results. I will give her your warning as well." He clapped his hands loudly, and two servants appeared in the doorway. "These two will show you where you can rest this evening and the morrow. You have had a long journey, and a day's rest will help clear the head for the trek yet to come."
With Farranby busy finishing the prenuptial arrangements with Master Fyodan, Lyara found herself left to her own devices after a sumptuous breakfast. Anxious to make sure of every detail, she rushed from the breakfast table to the stables to care for Surefoot, Farranby's mount, Karlo's Windrider and the pack pony, as well as checking the quality of the mounts for the two women and yet another pack pony to carry Dynia's possessions. Windrider would make the return trip as a pack animal, and Lyara silently begged forgiveness from the sad-eyed pony for the humiliation. Karlo had been very proud when he had acquired the former racing pony but would have understood. In that moment, Lyara determined to use any portion of the purse she was earning to take over the care of the beautiful animal.
That task finished, she found herself without a job to do; and she asked one of the servants for directions to the top of the tallest tower in the isolated hall's ramparts. There, in a tiny, unfurnished watch room, she marveled at the vista spread out below her offered by the hall and drank in greedily her first look at the Kauwlut lands she had come so far to see.
Miner's Hall sat at the edge of a cliff that fell four hundred paces from the foundations into a rock-filled pile of rubble at the base, and this was the face that Miner's Hall presented to the Kauwlut. Making the Hall even more impervious to attack, a ravine had been fashioned in the living rock most of the way around the hall which was crossable at only one point by a drawbridge. Nighttime saw the hall separated totally from the rest of the world around it, although the bridge was also up when the Kauwlut activity below was looking suspiciously threatening.
Far below and stretching toward the northern horizons, the rolling steppes were scored with rock-filled valleys that made the land look desolate. What vegetation that existed was short and a lack-luster grey-green that appeared only barely able to support life. Far off in the distance, horsemen rode at a full gallop across the crest of a hill and down into an unseen valley. A strange wistfulness came over Lyara as the riders disappeared from view, a wish that she could remember more of her life prior to the raid on the warrior village that had resulted in her capture. The loss had caused to grow within her an unfinished feeling that she only rarely paid any attention to anymore, and then only when she was completely alone.
The vista once again deserted, Lyara turned from the view and descended the long, spiral staircase, determined to immerse herself in the busy work of packing supplies and rechecking lists and inspecting all of the gear. Many large bundles were already littering the stable, evidence of Dynia's determination to bring her entire wardrobe and dower with her. Even at this time, there was more than any two or three pack ponies could carry.
Lyara went to discuss the matter with Fyodan's daughter, but the meeting turned out to be anything but amiable. Lyara's dark good looks were so Kauwlut-like that she immediately flew to her father complaining that Lyara was really a Kauwlut spy sent to kidnap her. Lyara, for her part, saw in Dynia all that the commonfolk despised in Talandri aristocracy: blonde hair so light that it was almost colorless, striking blue eyes that saw all but a select few as beneath their dignity to acknowledge, and finally a virulent tongue that made no bones about the opinion of its owner when regarding the Guide and steward who were to be her traveling companions for the next few weeks.
Fyodan won Lyara's full hearted admiration when, faced with his daughter's accusation and blatant dislike for her new guardians, simply refused to give way and order them around as she wished. The girl ranted and raged, but her father was unmoved. "You want the marriage, then you shall have it - after Lyara and Farranby get you to Tandri in one piece. If you don't wish to go with them, then you may as well forget ever leaving the mountains." Dynia eventually saw that there was nothing she could say to move her father, so she adopted a sullen acceptance of her lowly travel companions. Fyodan listened carefully to Lyara's comments about the amount of things Dynia was wanting to bring, and he himself dragged his daughter to the stables to account of every article in the bundles. By the time the afternoon was dying, the bundles in the stable were considerably fewer and far more acceptable to Lyara.
As an early celebration of the up-coming wedding, as well as making it a farewell meal for Dynia and her Guides, Fyodan had ordered a feast to be laid out that evening. Lyara got her first taste of the northern delicacies of roast iliniar, large birds domesticated for their eggs and colorful feathers as well as their meat, and the potent qillo liquor that was horded for special occasions. Although surrounded by dozens of feasting guests, Lyara felt herself alone in the crowd except for the quiet company of Farranby, who left his prearranged seat at Dynia's side in favor of sitting next to Lyara. The move at such a public dinner enraged Dynia, but there was little she could do when her father merely nodded and gave blatant approval to the move right in front of everyone.
"I suppose Dynia will be sure to mention this little lapse of protocol to Dilan when I get back to Tandri." Farranby gave a slight nod at the guest of honor, who was obviously ignoring him.
"I wouldn't worry about it," Lyara sniffed and sipped her qillo, enjoying the burning sensation it caused at the back of her throat. "She will no doubt have a long list of complaints by the time we get to Tandri; I think this will be one of the least of them."
Farranby smiled. The two of them had developed an easy comaraderie in the days since Karlo's death that now provided welcome warmth in what was an unfamiliar and, to Lyara, an unsettling environment. "I like your optimism."
Lyara chuckled softly. "That's just being realistic and you know it. Dynia and I have already tangled, and she came out the loser."
"I know," Farranby responded, his merriment barely concealed. "I heard about it at length from the lady herself just before dinner."
"She's talking to you?!"
"She had no one else to whom to complain," Farranby laughed, "at least, none who would listen quietly."
Lyara gaped at him. "And you did?"
The steward shrugged. "Why not. But, as you can see, my patience with her did little to boost my rating in her eyes." He shrugged again and looked at Lyara's plate. "Come on, now. You had better eat. I know for a fact that Fyodan's cook makes the best . . ."
Lyara was content with eating and drinking just enough so as not to be thought unsociable, despite Farranby's urgings. She had no intention of starting out on the most rigorous portion of her trek with a head that was stuffed full of feather-down or a stomach that still held a hard, cold lump of undigested food. The food and drink were really very tasty, and she would have indulged her curiosity at some of the more exotic dishes more if she could. Many of the pungent and piquant aromas that wafted from the many platters struck at a long-buried memory that struggled unsuccessfully to surface; and, as a result, she rose early from her seat as soon as she felt that leaving would not be an insult to her host.
Halfway up the stairs on her way to the rooms she had been given, she heard a voice call her name; and she turned to find the Mining Master himself at the base of the stairs. "Yes, Master Fyodan?"
Fyodan mounted the stairs two at a time until he was standing almost next to her. "I did not have a chance to speak to you in there, and I wanted to make sure that some of Dynia's actions not be misunderstood by you or Farranby later on."
"What kind of actions?"
"Perhaps you noticed that little was done in getting her things packed before the sun was fully risen in the sky this morning?" Fyodan asked. Lyara nodded, and the Master continued, "I think you should know that it is part of our religious custom up here not to do any work or traveling until we have said the morning prayers to Kodao Chi, the god of the mountains. I'm certain that Dynia will insist on following the practice on the road."
Lyara sighed. "That is not good, Master Fyodan. WE have a long journey ahead of us, and every moment will be valuable. At times of danger, it becomes necessary to move on even before there is any hint of a sunrise." At his somber expression, she conceded, "We will try to accomodate her beliefs as much as possible -- within reason. But at the same time, we will expect cooperation from her in case of danger."
Fyodan nodded "It is a compromise more than fair to both parties. I'll make sure that she understands well what is expected from her and you."
"You might also remind her of my earlier warning," Lyara added quietly. "For my own part, I'm sure that your god would understand if his followers moved against custom in order to keep themselves safe." Lyara bowed. "And now, if you will excuse me, Master Fyodan, I will get some rest."
Fyodan returned the bow. "I almost wish that I could accompany you," he smiled. "I would enjoy seeing you handle Dynia. Until tomorrow, then, Guide."
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