Aresan Clan pt 58

When Alles awoke, he rose from his bed in the corner of the tent and pulled back the curtain. He saw Annsi asleep on the floor, a blanket lying on top of her, which she firmly clung to as she curled her body tightly together to battle the early-morning cold.

He crossed the room to find Annsi’s bag and opened it up. There on the top he saw the leather pouch where her soldier’s sponge was stored, and when he opened the pouch, he saw the mossy bundle in its place, soaking in its sour solution.

When Annsi awoke, dressed for the day and gathered together everything into her bag, Alles asked, “I didn’t hear you rinsing out your soldier’s sponge last night, as you usually do. And you didn’t leave it inside of you, since I saw it in its pouch before you woke up.”

“You heard me after you went to sleep?” Annsi asked, with some embarrassment.

“And now that I think about it,” Alles continued, “I don’t think I felt it there when I entered you. It has a distinctive texture, like wet grass. It’s unmistakable. Yet, I didn’t feel it. You didn’t put it in, did you?”

Annsi didn’t say anything. She simply waited for him to react: for him to be angry or upset, or at least display some emotion. Instead, all he said, in his usual even tone, was, “Get packed, we leave immediately.”

As the troops climbed towards the outer bulwarks, its size grew in their sight and the cracks and disintegration became clearer and more detailed. They walked through the crumbling gates and almost immediately upon them stepping across that threshold, the ground fell away and the whole great valley of Sanloslee Park spread out before them, extending summerward to the horizon. The pristine holy ground of the Great Dunes glowed in the daylight and the cultivated fields spread around them, with Lamosa in the center.

The troops crossed the valley towards Lamosa, entering the gates of the inner bulwark and losing themselves in the streets. It was not unusual for the citizens of Lamosa to see small bands of troops entering and the city, since there were various detachments that would return from and depart for nearby forts. But the black palanquin that they carried, with its unseen contents, did draw attention. Many persons stopped in their tracks on the street to catch sight of the arrival of whatever unknown object or person was inside.

A few minutes later, Onur was answering the door of Darma’s house, his eyes meeting a grimy, young boy breathlessly standing at the door. “I was told to deliver a message to mistress Darma, that Alles has returned. He’s at the Omnian Plaza,” the boy said, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” Onur said, handing a coin to the boy and then closing the door on him.

He went to the living room to find Darma, but only saw Salles there exercising alone. “She couldn’t be persuaded to lift herself out of bed,” Salles told Onur after he inquired after her, “Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“The message is more for you, really,” Onur replied, “Alles is back, and presumably your daughter Annsi with him. But I shall endeavor to impress upon my mistress the importance of rising immediately to escort you to the locatin.”

Onur found his mistress grumpy and disagreeable when he tried to raise her from her bed, and she called out disagreeably to her servant, “Get away. Leave a woman to sleep.”

When Onur told her, “I have been informed that Alles has returned,” she rolled over and conceded, “I guess I should accompany Salles there,” with a groan of discontent.

Salles and Darma were prompt enough that, at their arrival, they found Alles’ soldiers standing in formation to prevent the crowds walking along the thoroughfare from intruding upon the activities around the palanquin. The soldiers were standing in the midst of the Omnian Plaza, a large, shady public square and parade ground adjacent to the Public House. In this morning light, the high buildings that surrounded it mostly shrouded the ground and left it feeling chilly there at this time of day.

Annsi was there in the background, watching as the three official court philosophers, Apamix, Taney and Sidd, extracted some sort of enshrouded young child from the interior of a black palanquin.

“Let’s schedule some tests on this boy,” Anders, who was standing besides the three philosophers, said, looking at the child with great interest, “See what he’s really capable of.”

“We treated the boy with the greatest care,” Alles added.

“He’s named Samuel,” Annsi shyly interjected, as she watched the child being taken away by the three men.

<-- Go to Part 57         Go to Part 59 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

When Alles awoke, he rose from his bed in the corner of the tent and pulled back the curtain. He saw Annsi asleep on the floor, a blanket lying on top of her, which she firmly clung to as she curled her body tightly together to battle the early-morning cold.

He crossed the room to find Annsi’s bag and opened it up. There on the top he saw the leather pouch where her soldier’s sponge was stored, and when he opened the pouch, he saw the mossy bundle in its place, soaking in its sour solution.

When Annsi awoke, dressed for the day and gathered together everything into her bag, Alles asked, “I didn’t hear you rinsing out your soldier’s sponge last night, as you usually do. And you didn’t leave it inside of you, since I saw it in its pouch before you woke up.”

“You heard me after you went to sleep?” Annsi asked, with some embarrassment.

“And now that I think about it,” Alles continued, “I don’t think I felt it there when I entered you. It has a distinctive texture, like wet grass. It’s unmistakable. Yet, I didn’t feel it. You didn’t put it in, did you?”

Annsi didn’t say anything. She simply waited for him to react: for him to be angry or upset, or at least display some emotion. Instead, all he said, in his usual even tone, was, “Get packed, we leave immediately.”

As the troops climbed towards the outer bulwarks, its size grew in their sight and the cracks and disintegration became clearer and more detailed. They walked through the crumbling gates and almost immediately upon them stepping across that threshold, the ground fell away and the whole great valley of Sanloslee Park spread out before them, extending summerward to the horizon. The pristine holy ground of the Great Dunes glowed in the daylight and the cultivated fields spread around them, with Lamosa in the center.

The troops crossed the valley towards Lamosa, entering the gates of the inner bulwark and losing themselves in the streets. It was not unusual for the citizens of Lamosa to see small bands of troops entering and the city, since there were various detachments that would return from and depart for nearby forts. But the black palanquin that they carried, with its unseen contents, did draw attention. Many persons stopped in their tracks on the street to catch sight of the arrival of whatever unknown object or person was inside.

A few minutes later, Onur was answering the door of Darma’s house, his eyes meeting a grimy, young boy breathlessly standing at the door. “I was told to deliver a message to mistress Darma, that Alles has returned. He’s at the Omnian Plaza,” the boy said, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” Onur said, handing a coin to the boy and then closing the door on him.

He went to the living room to find Darma, but only saw Salles there exercising alone. “She couldn’t be persuaded to lift herself out of bed,” Salles told Onur after he inquired after her, “Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“The message is more for you, really,” Onur replied, “Alles is back, and presumably your daughter Annsi with him. But I shall endeavor to impress upon my mistress the importance of rising immediately to escort you to the locatin.”

Onur found his mistress grumpy and disagreeable when he tried to raise her from her bed, and she called out disagreeably to her servant, “Get away. Leave a woman to sleep.”

When Onur told her, “I have been informed that Alles has returned,” she rolled over and conceded, “I guess I should accompany Salles there,” with a groan of discontent.

Salles and Darma were prompt enough that, at their arrival, they found Alles’ soldiers standing in formation to prevent the crowds walking along the thoroughfare from intruding upon the activities around the palanquin. The soldiers were standing in the midst of the Omnian Plaza, a large, shady public square and parade ground adjacent to the Public House. In this morning light, the high buildings that surrounded it mostly shrouded the ground and left it feeling chilly there at this time of day.

Annsi was there in the background, watching as the three official court philosophers, Apamix, Taney and Sidd, extracted some sort of enshrouded young child from the interior of a black palanquin.

“Let’s schedule some tests on this boy,” Anders, who was standing besides the three philosophers, said, looking at the child with great interest, “See what he’s really capable of.”

“We treated the boy with the greatest care,” Alles added.

“He’s named Samuel,” Annsi shyly interjected, as she watched the child being taken away by the three men.

<-- Go to Part 57         Go to Part 59 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 58

Aresan Clan pt 57

When Alles and his men saw the outer bulwark at the head of a ridge in the distance, a spontaneous shout of joy burst from everyone’s mouth at once. The wall seemed to extend interminably in both directions across the ridges that marked the outer boundary of Sanloslee Park. Unfortunately, the wall was still some three hours away and the city a further two hours from there. They could only just see the wall in the moonlight. They had already marched past the hour of sunset, and though his men were eager to continue until they arrived in Lamosa, Alles ordered a halt. Though rumbling with dissatisfaction at being forced to stop, his men were exhausted and it showed on their faces. Once they unloaded their packs and sat down, they suddenly found they lacked the energy to alight and start hiking again. Food was prepared and they ate, lethargically, quickly retiring to their tents as soon as they were fed and falling asleep just as quickly.

This meant it was the last evening that Annsi would have to sleep with Alles and she looked forward to the next evening when she would be able to sleep on her own bed in her apartment in Lamosa. No more of the hard ground and cold mornings. No more of the soldier’s sponge and Alles’ heavy body on top of her. No more sharing a small bed and changing in front of Alles’ staring, emotionless eyes.

Nonetheless, as she prepared the soldier’s sponge, soaking the tightly webbed bundle of moss in its sour solution and preparing to put it inside of her, she paused. Madrus would begin in only a few days. It was nearly upon her. The season of Madrus would be a time of procreation.

Alles from his position seated on his bed interrupted her thoughts to address what he perceived as reluctance: “You don’t have to have sex with me. I know that many commanders take advantage of their female soldiers. It’s almost expected that women soldiers are only there to service their commanders. But when I bring a woman along — which I don’t normally do —I have a good reason for it, and if she does her part, she is treated just as the same as the others. You have taken care of Samuel very well and it is appreciated. I only had you sleep in my tent in order to signal to the other soldiers that you are off limits. Many of the young soldiers are all too easily mastered by their desires, so I wanted to protect you. My protection of you was never contingent on any reciprocity. You could’ve refused me without retribution. I didn’t think I was taking advantage of you. I thought that I had your consent, even perhaps that you desired to be with me. If that isn’t so, you may sleep in peace knowing that you have my full protection even without offering yourself as some sort of payment.”

After hearing these words, Annsi secretly put the soldier’s sponge back into its canvas bag and stowed it away. She then dropped her clothes to the ground and walked over to Alles as he lay back and closed his eyes. When she got closer he looked up her voluptuous body into her eyes. Even after what he said she still knelt down silently and started to straddle her legs across him.

Alles was still reluctant and told her: “Please, we have returned to the Omnia and Madrus has not begun. I know I haven’t abided by it as I should, but as we are within the boundaries of Omnia, it is no longer excusable.”

Alles’ penis, though, did not obey the command of his mouth, and Annsi mounted him nonetheless. She moved her hips vigorously, to bring him to orgasm as fast as she could. For some moments he was silent and seemed to have succumbed. But as he came close to orgasm, he suddenly grabbed her hips to stop her, telling her: “Please, let’s stop this. It’s not too late. This does not count against Madrus yet. Let me remain pure.”

Annsi defied his grip and moved quickly to finish up quickly before he began to resist again, thrusting her hips rapidly and vigorously. He again temporarily ceded to the pleasure, and after some moments, his sperm spilled inside of her.

Fatigued and breathing heavily, she rolled off of him and lay on her back.

<-- Go to Part 55         Go to Part 57 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

When Alles and his men saw the outer bulwark at the head of a ridge in the distance, a spontaneous shout of joy burst from everyone’s mouth at once. The wall seemed to extend interminably in both directions across the ridges that marked the outer boundary of Sanloslee Park. Unfortunately, the wall was still some three hours away and the city a further two hours from there. They could only just see the wall in the moonlight. They had already marched past the hour of sunset, and though his men were eager to continue until they arrived in Lamosa, Alles ordered a halt. Though rumbling with dissatisfaction at being forced to stop, his men were exhausted and it showed on their faces. Once they unloaded their packs and sat down, they suddenly found they lacked the energy to alight and start hiking again. Food was prepared and they ate, lethargically, quickly retiring to their tents as soon as they were fed and falling asleep just as quickly.

This meant it was the last evening that Annsi would have to sleep with Alles and she looked forward to the next evening when she would be able to sleep on her own bed in her apartment in Lamosa. No more of the hard ground and cold mornings. No more of the soldier’s sponge and Alles’ heavy body on top of her. No more sharing a small bed and changing in front of Alles’ staring, emotionless eyes.

Nonetheless, as she prepared the soldier’s sponge, soaking the tightly webbed bundle of moss in its sour solution and preparing to put it inside of her, she paused. Madrus would begin in only a few days. It was nearly upon her. The season of Madrus would be a time of procreation.

Alles from his position seated on his bed interrupted her thoughts to address what he perceived as reluctance: “You don’t have to have sex with me. I know that many commanders take advantage of their female soldiers. It’s almost expected that women soldiers are only there to service their commanders. But when I bring a woman along — which I don’t normally do —I have a good reason for it, and if she does her part, she is treated just as the same as the others. You have taken care of Samuel very well and it is appreciated. I only had you sleep in my tent in order to signal to the other soldiers that you are off limits. Many of the young soldiers are all too easily mastered by their desires, so I wanted to protect you. My protection of you was never contingent on any reciprocity. You could’ve refused me without retribution. I didn’t think I was taking advantage of you. I thought that I had your consent, even perhaps that you desired to be with me. If that isn’t so, you may sleep in peace knowing that you have my full protection even without offering yourself as some sort of payment.”

After hearing these words, Annsi secretly put the soldier’s sponge back into its canvas bag and stowed it away. She then dropped her clothes to the ground and walked over to Alles as he lay back and closed his eyes. When she got closer he looked up her voluptuous body into her eyes. Even after what he said she still knelt down silently and started to straddle her legs across him.

Alles was still reluctant and told her: “Please, we have returned to the Omnia and Madrus has not begun. I know I haven’t abided by it as I should, but as we are within the boundaries of Omnia, it is no longer excusable.”

Alles’ penis, though, did not obey the command of his mouth, and Annsi mounted him nonetheless. She moved her hips vigorously, to bring him to orgasm as fast as she could. For some moments he was silent and seemed to have succumbed. But as he came close to orgasm, he suddenly grabbed her hips to stop her, telling her: “Please, let’s stop this. It’s not too late. This does not count against Madrus yet. Let me remain pure.”

Annsi defied his grip and moved quickly to finish up quickly before he began to resist again, thrusting her hips rapidly and vigorously. He again temporarily ceded to the pleasure, and after some moments, his sperm spilled inside of her.

Fatigued and breathing heavily, she rolled off of him and lay on her back.

<-- Go to Part 55         Go to Part 57 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 57

Aresan Clan pt 56

When Alles and his men saw the outer bulwark at the head of a ridge in the distance, a spontaneous shout of joy burst from everyone’s mouth at once. The wall seemed to extend interminably in both directions across the ridges that marked the outer boundary of Sanloslee Park. Unfortunately, the wall was still some three hours away and the city a further two hours from there. They could only just see the wall in the moonlight. They had already marched past the hour of sunset, and though his men were eager to continue until they arrived in Lamosa, Alles ordered a halt. Though rumbling with dissatisfaction at being forced to stop, his men were exhausted and it showed on their faces. Once they unloaded their packs and sat down, they suddenly found they lacked the energy to alight and start hiking again. Food was prepared and they ate, lethargically, quickly retiring to their tents as soon as they were fed and falling asleep just as quickly.

This meant it was the last evening that Annsi would have to sleep with Alles and she looked forward to the next evening when she would be able to sleep on her own bed in her apartment in Lamosa. No more of the hard ground and cold mornings. No more of the soldier’s sponge and Alles’ heavy body on top of her. No more sharing a small bed and changing in front of Alles’ staring, emotionless eyes.

Nonetheless, as she prepared the soldier’s sponge, soaking the tightly webbed bundle of moss in its sour solution and preparing to put it inside of her, she paused. Madrus would begin in only a few days. It was nearly upon her. The season of Madrus would be a time of procreation.

Alles from his position seated on his bed interrupted her thoughts to address what he perceived as reluctance: “You don’t have to have sex with me. I know that many commanders take advantage of their female soldiers. It’s almost expected that women soldiers are only there to service their commanders. But when I bring a woman along — which I don’t normally do —I have a good reason for it, and if she does her part, she is treated just as the same as the others. You have taken care of Samuel very well and it is appreciated. I only had you sleep in my tent in order to signal to the other soldiers that you are off limits. Many of the young soldiers are all too easily mastered by their desires, so I wanted to protect you. My protection of you was never contingent on any reciprocity. You could’ve refused me without retribution. I didn’t think I was taking advantage of you. I thought that I had your consent, even perhaps that you desired to be with me. If that isn’t so, you may sleep in peace knowing that you have my full protection even without offering yourself as some sort of payment.”

After hearing these words, Annsi secretly put the soldier’s sponge back into its canvas bag and stowed it away. She then dropped her clothes to the ground and walked over to Alles as he lay back and closed his eyes. When she got closer he looked up her voluptuous body into her eyes. Even after what he said she still knelt down silently and started to straddle her legs across him.

Alles was still reluctant and told her: “Please, we have returned to the Omnia and Madrus has not begun. I know I haven’t abided by it as I should, but as we are within the boundaries of Omnia, it is no longer excusable.”

Alles’ penis, though, did not obey the command of his mouth, and Annsi mounted him nonetheless. She moved her hips vigorously, to bring him to orgasm as fast as she could. For some moments he was silent and seemed to have succumbed. But as he came close to orgasm, he suddenly grabbed her hips to stop her, telling her: “Please, let’s stop this. It’s not too late. This does not count against Madrus yet. Let me remain pure.”

Annsi defied his grip and moved quickly to finish up quickly before he began to resist again, thrusting her hips rapidly and vigorously. He again temporarily ceded to the pleasure, and after some moments, his sperm spilled inside of her.

Fatigued and breathing heavily, she rolled off of him and lay on her back.

<-- Go to Part 55         Go to Part 57 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

When Alles and his men saw the outer bulwark at the head of a ridge in the distance, a spontaneous shout of joy burst from everyone’s mouth at once. The wall seemed to extend interminably in both directions across the ridges that marked the outer boundary of Sanloslee Park. Unfortunately, the wall was still some three hours away and the city a further two hours from there. They could only just see the wall in the moonlight. They had already marched past the hour of sunset, and though his men were eager to continue until they arrived in Lamosa, Alles ordered a halt. Though rumbling with dissatisfaction at being forced to stop, his men were exhausted and it showed on their faces. Once they unloaded their packs and sat down, they suddenly found they lacked the energy to alight and start hiking again. Food was prepared and they ate, lethargically, quickly retiring to their tents as soon as they were fed and falling asleep just as quickly.

This meant it was the last evening that Annsi would have to sleep with Alles and she looked forward to the next evening when she would be able to sleep on her own bed in her apartment in Lamosa. No more of the hard ground and cold mornings. No more of the soldier’s sponge and Alles’ heavy body on top of her. No more sharing a small bed and changing in front of Alles’ staring, emotionless eyes.

Nonetheless, as she prepared the soldier’s sponge, soaking the tightly webbed bundle of moss in its sour solution and preparing to put it inside of her, she paused. Madrus would begin in only a few days. It was nearly upon her. The season of Madrus would be a time of procreation.

Alles from his position seated on his bed interrupted her thoughts to address what he perceived as reluctance: “You don’t have to have sex with me. I know that many commanders take advantage of their female soldiers. It’s almost expected that women soldiers are only there to service their commanders. But when I bring a woman along — which I don’t normally do —I have a good reason for it, and if she does her part, she is treated just as the same as the others. You have taken care of Samuel very well and it is appreciated. I only had you sleep in my tent in order to signal to the other soldiers that you are off limits. Many of the young soldiers are all too easily mastered by their desires, so I wanted to protect you. My protection of you was never contingent on any reciprocity. You could’ve refused me without retribution. I didn’t think I was taking advantage of you. I thought that I had your consent, even perhaps that you desired to be with me. If that isn’t so, you may sleep in peace knowing that you have my full protection even without offering yourself as some sort of payment.”

After hearing these words, Annsi secretly put the soldier’s sponge back into its canvas bag and stowed it away. She then dropped her clothes to the ground and walked over to Alles as he lay back and closed his eyes. When she got closer he looked up her voluptuous body into her eyes. Even after what he said she still knelt down silently and started to straddle her legs across him.

Alles was still reluctant and told her: “Please, we have returned to the Omnia and Madrus has not begun. I know I haven’t abided by it as I should, but as we are within the boundaries of Omnia, it is no longer excusable.”

Alles’ penis, though, did not obey the command of his mouth, and Annsi mounted him nonetheless. She moved her hips vigorously, to bring him to orgasm as fast as she could. For some moments he was silent and seemed to have succumbed. But as he came close to orgasm, he suddenly grabbed her hips to stop her, telling her: “Please, let’s stop this. It’s not too late. This does not count against Madrus yet. Let me remain pure.”

Annsi defied his grip and moved quickly to finish up quickly before he began to resist again, thrusting her hips rapidly and vigorously. He again temporarily ceded to the pleasure, and after some moments, his sperm spilled inside of her.

Fatigued and breathing heavily, she rolled off of him and lay on her back.

<-- Go to Part 55         Go to Part 57 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 56

Aresan Clan pt 55

Salles looked up at the night and noticed for the first time since he’d arrived at Lamosa that the stars were dimmer than they appeared from the cloisters. As he looked around at the streets of Lamosa, that he was now walking through, he noted the many sources of light: torches and lamps burned in front of the many late night venues that bustled with customers even at an hour that Salles would usually be beginning his bedtime preparations. Darma had taken him to the so-called Park District, which was notorious for its youthful inhabitants and late hours. It was also the ideal place to find a respectable and fashionable dance hall.

Darma stepped up to the door of one of the best of such dance halls, where an imposing doorman gave her a quick look over and then let her through. She dragged Salles behind her, handing a coin to the doorman who accepted it with a bow. Darma looked like a person dressed for the evening, wearing a long, elegant dress that hugged and shaped her body into the picture of female beauty. Salles, though, still wore the habit of his order and looked as out of place as a man could be. The young men there wore tall boots with tight, dark-colored trousers and matching jackets over brightly colored shirts that, altogether, exuded youthful prosperity.

In the center of the dance hall a whole crowd of partners danced in what appeared to be a formalized dance. They moved in coordinated lines, which approached each other and moved away and then folded into each other, before breaking off into partners, who scattered through the room in spinning patterns, before rejoining into lines. At the front of the dance hall was a group of musicians, a man who strummed a large, handheld harp, another who pounded a set of drums, besides several flute-players blowing hard into their wooden instruments. Leading the band was a vocalist, whose loud, sonorous voice guided the dance by singing a set of embellished instructions.

On the walls, several torches hung, filling the room with light, and below these, around the edges of the dance floor, crowds of youngsters mulled about, some talking, some flirting, some embarrassedly shying away from the dance floor, some hiding in the shadows.

“It’s so crowded tonight! This is wonderful!” Darma observed with pleasure, “We’ll definitely have to get in on this next dance!”

“And how exactly does one perform this dance?” Salles asked.

“It’s no different than the exercises you taught me this morning,” Darma replied with a somewhat crowing smile, “It’s just a set of steps you have to learn. Don’t worry you can just follow me”

When the music came to a stop, and some of the dancers wandered off the dance floor, Darma immediately grabbed Salles and dragged him forward.

The vocalist announced to the crowd, “The next dance we have for this evening is ‘Twirl Around the Fencepost.’ Partners in position.”

“I love this dance!” Darma declared. She grabbed Salles, pulling his body against hers and wrapping one of his arms around her waist. She kicked his feet into position, then looked up at him, saying, “You just follow what I do, and you’ll be fine.”

The dance started, and the two of them began to move in circles around the floor.

“I lost my girl; Now walking home ashamed. Twirl around a fencepost; and roam where’er I’m aimed,” the vocalist sang, as Darma pulled away and twirled around, before returning to him.

Salles struggled to keep the proper footwork, and at almost every stop found his two feet in the wrong position, frequently tripping over and stepping on hers. But Darma still smiled at him and held his body close to hers. He could feel her breasts against his torso, and her hips against his hips.

“Travelling in the valleys, following the streams. Twirl around a fencepost, and take th’ first girl I see,” the vocalist continued.

The couples formed a line, which split into two, kicking their feet while they walked. Then each couple ran down the corridor between these two lines, hand in hand, and reformed the line down at the end, until the two lines rejoined and were paired up, in new random pairs. Salles was placed with a young girl he didn’t know. The girl was transparently frustrated by his clumsiness, and they had to endure each other until the next cycle brought him back to Darma.

Despite Salles’ struggles, Darma looked up fondly into his eyes as the dance continued, laughing, smiling, throwing her hair about and dancing with abandon into the night.

<-- Go to Part 54         Go to Part 56 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Salles looked up at the night and noticed for the first time since he’d arrived at Lamosa that the stars were dimmer than they appeared from the cloisters. As he looked around at the streets of Lamosa, that he was now walking through, he noted the many sources of light: torches and lamps burned in front of the many late night venues that bustled with customers even at an hour that Salles would usually be beginning his bedtime preparations. Darma had taken him to the so-called Park District, which was notorious for its youthful inhabitants and late hours. It was also the ideal place to find a respectable and fashionable dance hall.

Darma stepped up to the door of one of the best of such dance halls, where an imposing doorman gave her a quick look over and then let her through. She dragged Salles behind her, handing a coin to the doorman who accepted it with a bow. Darma looked like a person dressed for the evening, wearing a long, elegant dress that hugged and shaped her body into the picture of female beauty. Salles, though, still wore the habit of his order and looked as out of place as a man could be. The young men there wore tall boots with tight, dark-colored trousers and matching jackets over brightly colored shirts that, altogether, exuded youthful prosperity.

In the center of the dance hall a whole crowd of partners danced in what appeared to be a formalized dance. They moved in coordinated lines, which approached each other and moved away and then folded into each other, before breaking off into partners, who scattered through the room in spinning patterns, before rejoining into lines. At the front of the dance hall was a group of musicians, a man who strummed a large, handheld harp, another who pounded a set of drums, besides several flute-players blowing hard into their wooden instruments. Leading the band was a vocalist, whose loud, sonorous voice guided the dance by singing a set of embellished instructions.

On the walls, several torches hung, filling the room with light, and below these, around the edges of the dance floor, crowds of youngsters mulled about, some talking, some flirting, some embarrassedly shying away from the dance floor, some hiding in the shadows.

“It’s so crowded tonight! This is wonderful!” Darma observed with pleasure, “We’ll definitely have to get in on this next dance!”

“And how exactly does one perform this dance?” Salles asked.

“It’s no different than the exercises you taught me this morning,” Darma replied with a somewhat crowing smile, “It’s just a set of steps you have to learn. Don’t worry you can just follow me”

When the music came to a stop, and some of the dancers wandered off the dance floor, Darma immediately grabbed Salles and dragged him forward.

The vocalist announced to the crowd, “The next dance we have for this evening is ‘Twirl Around the Fencepost.’ Partners in position.”

“I love this dance!” Darma declared. She grabbed Salles, pulling his body against hers and wrapping one of his arms around her waist. She kicked his feet into position, then looked up at him, saying, “You just follow what I do, and you’ll be fine.”

The dance started, and the two of them began to move in circles around the floor.

“I lost my girl; Now walking home ashamed. Twirl around a fencepost; and roam where’er I’m aimed,” the vocalist sang, as Darma pulled away and twirled around, before returning to him.

Salles struggled to keep the proper footwork, and at almost every stop found his two feet in the wrong position, frequently tripping over and stepping on hers. But Darma still smiled at him and held his body close to hers. He could feel her breasts against his torso, and her hips against his hips.

“Travelling in the valleys, following the streams. Twirl around a fencepost, and take th’ first girl I see,” the vocalist continued.

The couples formed a line, which split into two, kicking their feet while they walked. Then each couple ran down the corridor between these two lines, hand in hand, and reformed the line down at the end, until the two lines rejoined and were paired up, in new random pairs. Salles was placed with a young girl he didn’t know. The girl was transparently frustrated by his clumsiness, and they had to endure each other until the next cycle brought him back to Darma.

Despite Salles’ struggles, Darma looked up fondly into his eyes as the dance continued, laughing, smiling, throwing her hair about and dancing with abandon into the night.

<-- Go to Part 54         Go to Part 56 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 55

Aresan Clan pt 54

“Deliver a message?” Erek-Monte replied, “We are not couriers, comrade. We don’t normally do this. We are merchants, you must know. We travel the empty mountains. We search for the ruins of our ancient ancestors, and we excavate them for treasures. Just recently we found this artifact.” Erek-Monte hefted up a heavy a chunk of cement almost as big as a man’s head, out of which a bent metal rod protruded. It was grey and had two smooth edges, as if it was pulled from the corner of some structure. “Do you know much this is worth?” Erek-Monte asked, “A fortune. One of your stinking Omnian aristocrats will probably pay us its weight in gold. To our ancestors, this would be junk. To us, we could use it to buy enough meat to feed our whole tribe for months. And we find many other things: coins, silverware, fragments of glass, and more. So, having heard that, I have to ask you why we should settle for being couriers. Why would it be worthwhile for us?”

“I’ll pay you generously. You just have to take a message to Lamosa, deliver it to Anders. And you needn’t bring your whole tribe. Just send one of your minions.”

“I have no minions,” Erek-Monte announced to a shout of uproarious agreement from his soldiers, “Only comrades. Besides, Lamosa is a like a festering corpse to my nose. But if there are any volunteers, I won’t object. Anyone willing to take this commission and travel into that festering swamp of disease that is Lamosa?”

“What will you pay?” Dylan-Nantes asked.

“Let me fetch it,” Mill said. Dylan-Nantes escorted Mill back to his clothes and bag, which were stowed in the possession of the sentries. Mill returned with a stack of gold coins a hands-breadth tall and displayed them for all to see. “Half up front and half when you return,” Mill said.

After he heard these words, Dylan-Nantes looked around to the other members of his tribe, to see if any of them were eager to leap forward and volunteer. With no one showing any interest, Dylan-Nantes announced, “I’ll take it. You give me that message and that money and I’ll be flowing through the gates of Lamosa as fast as a waterfall.”

“He will stink of the city when he returns and we shall have to scrub it off of him thoroughly,” Erek-Monte said to Dylan-Nantes, “But I consent to letting him leave us for this mission. Do we all consent?”

All of Erek-Monte’s soldiers consented at once with a loud shout of “Ho!”

Dylan-Nantes turned to Mill again and they traded the looks of two people pleased to do business together. Mill reached out his hand and they again traded a soldier’s shake to confirm the deal.

“We’ve made a binding agreement in front of all these witnesses,” Dylan-Nantes said. Mill nodded and handed half the stack of coins to Dylan-Nantes.

“Unfortunately, I shan’t be able to stay with you fine soldiers any longer. I must return to Orinda as soon as possible. My absence has probably already been noted and speculated over. All I need is to prepare the message and of course ask that Dylan-Nantes be as prompt in beginning his journey to deliver it as I am prompt to leave.”

“You sure you cannot indulge in more of our feast?” Erek-Monte offered, and a woman stepped forward with food in hand.

“No, thank you. You have been very hospitable,” Mill said. Then he looked at the woman, a large and imposing figure with broad shoulders and thick arms, and he added: “That’s quite a strong woman to just be serving food.”

Erek-Monte said, “All our women are strong!” and all the men raised a cheer of joy, “Because our women, they fight. We don’t like them to fight because they’re valuable to us,” his men assented with eager howls, “but they can knock down your soldiers as easily as they could knock down a sapling, when they need to. You do not value your women so much. So you be careful! We might take them!” And the men laughed heartily.

Mill replied, “I do thank you for your hospitality and do apologize for having to leave so quickly.”

“We bid you goodbye respectfully,” Erek-Monte said, raising a glass to Mill.

Mill had to transcribe his message using available materials, since he hadn’t planned on using the itinerant tribesmen as couriers. He carved it on the inside of a piece of bark, writing it in the Omnian language and handing it off to Dylan-Nantes with the words, “I don’t have time to encrypt it. So I trust you to put this into Anders hands without it being stolen.”

Dylan-Nantes nodded and then Mill dressed and departed.

<-- Go to Part 53         Go to Part 55 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

“Deliver a message?” Erek-Monte replied, “We are not couriers, comrade. We don’t normally do this. We are merchants, you must know. We travel the empty mountains. We search for the ruins of our ancient ancestors, and we excavate them for treasures. Just recently we found this artifact.” Erek-Monte hefted up a heavy a chunk of cement almost as big as a man’s head, out of which a bent metal rod protruded. It was grey and had two smooth edges, as if it was pulled from the corner of some structure. “Do you know much this is worth?” Erek-Monte asked, “A fortune. One of your stinking Omnian aristocrats will probably pay us its weight in gold. To our ancestors, this would be junk. To us, we could use it to buy enough meat to feed our whole tribe for months. And we find many other things: coins, silverware, fragments of glass, and more. So, having heard that, I have to ask you why we should settle for being couriers. Why would it be worthwhile for us?”

“I’ll pay you generously. You just have to take a message to Lamosa, deliver it to Anders. And you needn’t bring your whole tribe. Just send one of your minions.”

“I have no minions,” Erek-Monte announced to a shout of uproarious agreement from his soldiers, “Only comrades. Besides, Lamosa is a like a festering corpse to my nose. But if there are any volunteers, I won’t object. Anyone willing to take this commission and travel into that festering swamp of disease that is Lamosa?”

“What will you pay?” Dylan-Nantes asked.

“Let me fetch it,” Mill said. Dylan-Nantes escorted Mill back to his clothes and bag, which were stowed in the possession of the sentries. Mill returned with a stack of gold coins a hands-breadth tall and displayed them for all to see. “Half up front and half when you return,” Mill said.

After he heard these words, Dylan-Nantes looked around to the other members of his tribe, to see if any of them were eager to leap forward and volunteer. With no one showing any interest, Dylan-Nantes announced, “I’ll take it. You give me that message and that money and I’ll be flowing through the gates of Lamosa as fast as a waterfall.”

“He will stink of the city when he returns and we shall have to scrub it off of him thoroughly,” Erek-Monte said to Dylan-Nantes, “But I consent to letting him leave us for this mission. Do we all consent?”

All of Erek-Monte’s soldiers consented at once with a loud shout of “Ho!”

Dylan-Nantes turned to Mill again and they traded the looks of two people pleased to do business together. Mill reached out his hand and they again traded a soldier’s shake to confirm the deal.

“We’ve made a binding agreement in front of all these witnesses,” Dylan-Nantes said. Mill nodded and handed half the stack of coins to Dylan-Nantes.

“Unfortunately, I shan’t be able to stay with you fine soldiers any longer. I must return to Orinda as soon as possible. My absence has probably already been noted and speculated over. All I need is to prepare the message and of course ask that Dylan-Nantes be as prompt in beginning his journey to deliver it as I am prompt to leave.”

“You sure you cannot indulge in more of our feast?” Erek-Monte offered, and a woman stepped forward with food in hand.

“No, thank you. You have been very hospitable,” Mill said. Then he looked at the woman, a large and imposing figure with broad shoulders and thick arms, and he added: “That’s quite a strong woman to just be serving food.”

Erek-Monte said, “All our women are strong!” and all the men raised a cheer of joy, “Because our women, they fight. We don’t like them to fight because they’re valuable to us,” his men assented with eager howls, “but they can knock down your soldiers as easily as they could knock down a sapling, when they need to. You do not value your women so much. So you be careful! We might take them!” And the men laughed heartily.

Mill replied, “I do thank you for your hospitality and do apologize for having to leave so quickly.”

“We bid you goodbye respectfully,” Erek-Monte said, raising a glass to Mill.

Mill had to transcribe his message using available materials, since he hadn’t planned on using the itinerant tribesmen as couriers. He carved it on the inside of a piece of bark, writing it in the Omnian language and handing it off to Dylan-Nantes with the words, “I don’t have time to encrypt it. So I trust you to put this into Anders hands without it being stolen.”

Dylan-Nantes nodded and then Mill dressed and departed.

<-- Go to Part 53         Go to Part 55 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 54

Aresan Clan pt 53

After about a day’s journey away from Orinda-for, Mill stumbled upon what appeared to be remnants of a recent itinerant-tribe campsite. He could see several bootprints in the dirt and grass that had apparently been flattened by sleeping soldiers. In the middle of all of this was the black char of a recent fire. When he searched for a water trip, he found one, barely emptied, dangling from a branch pointing sunsetward. He deduced that this tribe had broke camp only just this morning, and decided to try and intersect with them, as a new plan developed in his mind.

The various itinerant tribes maintained sporadic trading and communication between one another, and thus would let themselves be easy to find and easy to track for other tribes. Yet, since they were constantly on the move, they were difficult to catch up with. Mill spent his whole day jogging to catch them, as he followed prints in the dirt and channels though the underbrush.

Mill rapidly traced their movements across stretches of forest and through valleys until, as the day was coming to an end, he finally started to approach their camp. Mill smelled meat cooking in the distance, could see the faint wisp of smoke from their fire, and he could even hear the distant sound of laughter through the trees. As he neared closer, he noticed that he was being watched, by eyes in the trees. He announced himself boldly in a fluent rendition of the Itinerant language, the so-called Mountain-speak: “I come to speak with your leader. The only weapon I have is a dagger.”

The eyes in the trees stayed fixed, but another man, Dylan-Nantes a bearded, scraggly-haired man, approached him. The man wore an outfit made from several animal furs and had his three sheathed daggers visible. Around his neck was a necklace made from old rusted bolts and washers that hung down to his navel. “This is Erek-Monte’s tribe. Who are you, and what is your business, stranger?” Dylan-Nantes said.

“My name is Mill, of the Brotian Guild. Tell Erek Monte I am a friend of Strya and would like to see him.”

“You’re a friend of Strya then? An excellent man. My name’s Dylan-Nantes. You can go ahead and see him. But let us greet each other with a comrades’ greeting.” Dylan-Nantes reached out and they shook hands with a soldier’s shake, each grabbing the forearm of the other and then both placing the other hand on the shoulder of the other. “But even friends of Strya must don the frock, I’m afraid,” Dylan-Nantes added, “Erek-Monte doesn’t trust strangers, especially not from the Omnia.”

“What do you mean?” Mill asked.

“Take off your clothes,” Dylan-Nantes ordered, “You don’t need to be embarrassed. There are no women in sight. Go ahead.”

Mill started to remove his vest and shirt; he next slipped out of his boots, his socks and his pants until he was only wearing his loin cloth. This he unwrapped and set down with the rest, now bare-naked and shivering.

“No room to hide any weapons when you’ve only got your skin,” Dylan-Nantes explained, handing him a large brown cloth. Dylan-Nantes had to show Mill how to wear it, wrapping it around him and securing it in place. Dylan-Nantes also handed Mill a pair of sandals and a cloak, since the warmth of the setting sun was rapidly disappearing. After this, Mill pulled a small sack of grain out of his bag and handed it to Dylan-Nantes, saying, “For Erek-Monte.”

Mill then walked towards the camp, with Dylan-Nantes behind him. Through the trees, he found a diverse group of mostly men circled around a fire, seated on the ground. A large, barrel-chested warrior with bright red hair and freckled skin sat at the center of them, taking the first bit of the cooking meat. Everyone turned to look at Mill, who walked cautiously among them. When Erek-Monte saw him he didn’t rise, but he offered him a seat. Mill sat down, keeping a respectful distance from him.

“My name’s Mill, of the Brotian Guild. I am a friend of Strya’s” Mill repeated.

“As a guest, it is your duty to join us in our meal,” Erek-Monte said cordially.

“I will, and I thank you, as long as you don’t mind that the only gift I have is a bag of grain,” Mill responded deferentially.

Erek-Monte laughed heartily and some of the men nearby joined in. Erek-Monte replied jovially, “I guess an Omnia spy doesn’t have much time for hunting, but I think we’ll enjoy it nonetheless.” Dylan-Nantes leaned forward and handed the bag to Erek-Monte, who looked into it appreciatively. He then threw the bag to one of the women. “Am I right to say that you are a spy? If you are a friend of Strya and you are out here, that can be the only explanation.”

Mill nodded and Erek-Monte shouted “Ha! I was right!” with a cheerful laugh. He then turned to Mill and he said, “So, what brings you here, Omnia spy? Why have you sought us out? What could we possibly do for you?”

“I have a commission for you,” Mill said, “For you to deliver a message.”

<-- Go to Part 52         Go to Part 54 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

After about a day’s journey away from Orinda-for, Mill stumbled upon what appeared to be remnants of a recent itinerant-tribe campsite. He could see several bootprints in the dirt and grass that had apparently been flattened by sleeping soldiers. In the middle of all of this was the black char of a recent fire. When he searched for a water trip, he found one, barely emptied, dangling from a branch pointing sunsetward. He deduced that this tribe had broke camp only just this morning, and decided to try and intersect with them, as a new plan developed in his mind.

The various itinerant tribes maintained sporadic trading and communication between one another, and thus would let themselves be easy to find and easy to track for other tribes. Yet, since they were constantly on the move, they were difficult to catch up with. Mill spent his whole day jogging to catch them, as he followed prints in the dirt and channels though the underbrush.

Mill rapidly traced their movements across stretches of forest and through valleys until, as the day was coming to an end, he finally started to approach their camp. Mill smelled meat cooking in the distance, could see the faint wisp of smoke from their fire, and he could even hear the distant sound of laughter through the trees. As he neared closer, he noticed that he was being watched, by eyes in the trees. He announced himself boldly in a fluent rendition of the Itinerant language, the so-called Mountain-speak: “I come to speak with your leader. The only weapon I have is a dagger.”

The eyes in the trees stayed fixed, but another man, Dylan-Nantes a bearded, scraggly-haired man, approached him. The man wore an outfit made from several animal furs and had his three sheathed daggers visible. Around his neck was a necklace made from old rusted bolts and washers that hung down to his navel. “This is Erek-Monte’s tribe. Who are you, and what is your business, stranger?” Dylan-Nantes said.

“My name is Mill, of the Brotian Guild. Tell Erek Monte I am a friend of Strya and would like to see him.”

“You’re a friend of Strya then? An excellent man. My name’s Dylan-Nantes. You can go ahead and see him. But let us greet each other with a comrades’ greeting.” Dylan-Nantes reached out and they shook hands with a soldier’s shake, each grabbing the forearm of the other and then both placing the other hand on the shoulder of the other. “But even friends of Strya must don the frock, I’m afraid,” Dylan-Nantes added, “Erek-Monte doesn’t trust strangers, especially not from the Omnia.”

“What do you mean?” Mill asked.

“Take off your clothes,” Dylan-Nantes ordered, “You don’t need to be embarrassed. There are no women in sight. Go ahead.”

Mill started to remove his vest and shirt; he next slipped out of his boots, his socks and his pants until he was only wearing his loin cloth. This he unwrapped and set down with the rest, now bare-naked and shivering.

“No room to hide any weapons when you’ve only got your skin,” Dylan-Nantes explained, handing him a large brown cloth. Dylan-Nantes had to show Mill how to wear it, wrapping it around him and securing it in place. Dylan-Nantes also handed Mill a pair of sandals and a cloak, since the warmth of the setting sun was rapidly disappearing. After this, Mill pulled a small sack of grain out of his bag and handed it to Dylan-Nantes, saying, “For Erek-Monte.”

Mill then walked towards the camp, with Dylan-Nantes behind him. Through the trees, he found a diverse group of mostly men circled around a fire, seated on the ground. A large, barrel-chested warrior with bright red hair and freckled skin sat at the center of them, taking the first bit of the cooking meat. Everyone turned to look at Mill, who walked cautiously among them. When Erek-Monte saw him he didn’t rise, but he offered him a seat. Mill sat down, keeping a respectful distance from him.

“My name’s Mill, of the Brotian Guild. I am a friend of Strya’s” Mill repeated.

“As a guest, it is your duty to join us in our meal,” Erek-Monte said cordially.

“I will, and I thank you, as long as you don’t mind that the only gift I have is a bag of grain,” Mill responded deferentially.

Erek-Monte laughed heartily and some of the men nearby joined in. Erek-Monte replied jovially, “I guess an Omnia spy doesn’t have much time for hunting, but I think we’ll enjoy it nonetheless.” Dylan-Nantes leaned forward and handed the bag to Erek-Monte, who looked into it appreciatively. He then threw the bag to one of the women. “Am I right to say that you are a spy? If you are a friend of Strya and you are out here, that can be the only explanation.”

Mill nodded and Erek-Monte shouted “Ha! I was right!” with a cheerful laugh. He then turned to Mill and he said, “So, what brings you here, Omnia spy? Why have you sought us out? What could we possibly do for you?”

“I have a commission for you,” Mill said, “For you to deliver a message.”

<-- Go to Part 52         Go to Part 54 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 53

Aresan Clan pt 52

Noone then snuffed the flame of the oil lamp, which was not generally burned during the daylight hours, continuing: “Amida, I want you to look after Arrs while we search his room. I want Eloh with me, since he’s already searched through the two rooms. Amida, you make sure that he remains in the courtyard, and we’ll do our best to keep our investigations short. We don’t want to linger there.”

The three of them left the gallery together, and they watched Amida enter the courtyard. Arrs was there, still busy with cleaning around the mill. Was Amida was in position, Eloh and Noone disappeared down the hall towards Arrs’ room.

Eloh kept watch in the hallway, while Noone stepped inside. As soon as she opened the door, she realized that there wasn’t much to find here. She pulled back the sheets to look at the mattress. The tick of the mattress was a large sack made of a hemp canvas. At one end, was an opening, folded over and buttoned shut to hold the straw inside. Noone unbuttoned it and look at the chaff stuffed within. To all appearances it seemed untouched. She buttoned up the mattress and arranged the sheets as they had been before. The bed had not been made, its sheets simply tossed aside when Arrs arose from it this morning. Nonetheless, Noone arranged the sheets as they had been when she entered the room. She then looked through Arrs one traveling bag, finding there, as well, nothing of interest.

Noone stepped out of the room and closed the door, telling Salles, “Tell Amida that we’re moving on to Jule’s room.”

Salles walked through the halls to the courtyard, and walked up to Amida, who was casually leaning against a wall and watching Arrs while he worked. Eloh whispered in her ear, and Amida shifted her attention to Jule who was also working on cleaning up the mills, moving scraps of wood and bits of ash that were to be processed and recycled.

Noone and Salles met in front of Jule’s room and she stepped inside while Salles again remained outside. Within moments of stepping into the room, Noone found what she had been looking for: a round, cylindrical earthenware container with several small holes on the top and bottom and a hook-shaped handle extending from the top. The base was removable and as she pulled it out, she found in the middle a stand for holding a candle and some hardened beeswax drippings around the edge. She put this back in place as she had found it. She ventured over to the bed. Lifting the bedspread and pulling back the sheets, she looked at the mattress. As she looked at the end where it opened up, a few stray straws were just sticking out from within, in a way that suggested Jule had removed a handful or two of straw and had dropped a few in the process.

After straightening the mattress and sheets, Noone pulled the bed away from the wall to see the stack of books that Salles had spoken of. There she saw them, in a row of small stacks. She picked up the first book she to catch her eye, its cover decorated by a flaming eagle. When she opened it, she recognized the script of the fire tongue, and saw the title, the Hermeticon. It was a holy work in the Fourth Order canon. She wanted to read it. She’d never had a chance read a copy of this sacred book, but when she turned out to look into the hallway, she saw Eloh mouthing to her, “hurry up.”

Noone quickly put everything back in its place and then exited the room closing the door. Her and Salles casually walked away, crossing the courtyard. When Amida saw them, she fell behind them in step towards Noone’s office.

Noone sat at her desk and turned to Amida and Salles, telling them, “Jule’s our man.”

“What do you we do?” Amida asked, “Do we lock him up?”

“No,” Noone said, “We watch him. There may be yet more we can learn. In fact, I strongly suspect that there is much more to learn. And we are not going to find it out by asking him politely.”

<-- Go to Part 51         Go to Part 53 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Noone then snuffed the flame of the oil lamp, which was not generally burned during the daylight hours, continuing: “Amida, I want you to look after Arrs while we search his room. I want Eloh with me, since he’s already searched through the two rooms. Amida, you make sure that he remains in the courtyard, and we’ll do our best to keep our investigations short. We don’t want to linger there.”

The three of them left the gallery together, and they watched Amida enter the courtyard. Arrs was there, still busy with cleaning around the mill. Was Amida was in position, Eloh and Noone disappeared down the hall towards Arrs’ room.

Eloh kept watch in the hallway, while Noone stepped inside. As soon as she opened the door, she realized that there wasn’t much to find here. She pulled back the sheets to look at the mattress. The tick of the mattress was a large sack made of a hemp canvas. At one end, was an opening, folded over and buttoned shut to hold the straw inside. Noone unbuttoned it and look at the chaff stuffed within. To all appearances it seemed untouched. She buttoned up the mattress and arranged the sheets as they had been before. The bed had not been made, its sheets simply tossed aside when Arrs arose from it this morning. Nonetheless, Noone arranged the sheets as they had been when she entered the room. She then looked through Arrs one traveling bag, finding there, as well, nothing of interest.

Noone stepped out of the room and closed the door, telling Salles, “Tell Amida that we’re moving on to Jule’s room.”

Salles walked through the halls to the courtyard, and walked up to Amida, who was casually leaning against a wall and watching Arrs while he worked. Eloh whispered in her ear, and Amida shifted her attention to Jule who was also working on cleaning up the mills, moving scraps of wood and bits of ash that were to be processed and recycled.

Noone and Salles met in front of Jule’s room and she stepped inside while Salles again remained outside. Within moments of stepping into the room, Noone found what she had been looking for: a round, cylindrical earthenware container with several small holes on the top and bottom and a hook-shaped handle extending from the top. The base was removable and as she pulled it out, she found in the middle a stand for holding a candle and some hardened beeswax drippings around the edge. She put this back in place as she had found it. She ventured over to the bed. Lifting the bedspread and pulling back the sheets, she looked at the mattress. As she looked at the end where it opened up, a few stray straws were just sticking out from within, in a way that suggested Jule had removed a handful or two of straw and had dropped a few in the process.

After straightening the mattress and sheets, Noone pulled the bed away from the wall to see the stack of books that Salles had spoken of. There she saw them, in a row of small stacks. She picked up the first book she to catch her eye, its cover decorated by a flaming eagle. When she opened it, she recognized the script of the fire tongue, and saw the title, the Hermeticon. It was a holy work in the Fourth Order canon. She wanted to read it. She’d never had a chance read a copy of this sacred book, but when she turned out to look into the hallway, she saw Eloh mouthing to her, “hurry up.”

Noone quickly put everything back in its place and then exited the room closing the door. Her and Salles casually walked away, crossing the courtyard. When Amida saw them, she fell behind them in step towards Noone’s office.

Noone sat at her desk and turned to Amida and Salles, telling them, “Jule’s our man.”

“What do you we do?” Amida asked, “Do we lock him up?”

“No,” Noone said, “We watch him. There may be yet more we can learn. In fact, I strongly suspect that there is much more to learn. And we are not going to find it out by asking him politely.”

<-- Go to Part 51         Go to Part 53 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 52

Aresan Clan pt 51

In the morning, after they had eaten and exercised, Noone met alone with Amida and Eloh in the gallery to speak with them privately. The gallery was an open, unfurnished room used as a meeting place and winter exercise room. It was currently empty except for these three person and had only a few windows, making it somewhat dark at this hour. Like much of the cloisters, it had an unadorned austerity, defined by functionality but still beautiful in its way. The walls were decorated all around with a series of paintings created by the Sages, added in order to illustrate scenes from the distant and half-mythical Aresan history for the illiterate masses.

The series of paintings displayed notable moments in their history, meant to capture the broad scope of the historical trends that had transpired. First, there was a depiction of the distant period of near-perfection and paradise that humanity had once enjoyed, characterized by technological marvels and a close proximity to the divine; the next painting showed the devil Aza-toth’s son Char-Sensa-Doon being banished to the Second Realm by Hieronymous; a third showed Aza-thoth’s other son, Ser-Thoth, in the form of a white stag, infecting William Sirr, Chief Royal of Danfur; a fourth showed William Sirr, standing before his great, sky-piercing city of Danfur, initiating war among the Five Cities by sending forth his armies to conquer; a fifth showed the ruins and ashes of the Five Cities, exemplifying the downfall of the human world and its near extinction; a sixth showed the divine war, between Anan and Aza-toth, depicting the two divine beings clashing in the sky with swords of lightning; a seventh showed Anan’s ultimate triumph as Aza-toth cowered before him in submission; an eight showed Anan and the council of gods, from their position in the sky seated at their great table, reaching down to help pull what remained of the human race out of the ashes; a ninth exemplified the period of “Reconstruction” in which humanity currently existed, as humans built modest cities upon the once great marvels of the past; and the tenth, the last painting, depicted the utopic future they expected, when humanity would re-ascend to their position of paradise and again be close to the gods and masters of their world.

Eloh was standing next to Amida looking at the paintings while Noone sat upon the ground with a candle beside her thinking deeply and in silence.

“In order to figure out who set fire to the mill, we need to figure out how he did this,” Noone began, abruptly breaking the silence, “We need to think about what would he do, what would he have to do to succeed at what we know he did.”

Noone stood up and crossed the room with the candle in hand. She touched the flame to the heavy wick of the oil lamp, which blazed with a strong light as soon as it was lit. The main entrance leading into the cloisters was at the far end of the gallery, and, for this reason, a large oil lamp was placed in the room and lit at night to give illumination to any late night arrivals.

“If the person who lit the fire had a candle, he must have either kept the candle lit after bedtime or he relit it from this flame here in the gallery. The only other flame normally kept on at night is the brazier outside by the sentries, but it’s unlikely the person would go out there.

“Certainly a person could sneak from their room to the gallery here and out to the courtyard without being seen. But it would be risky. He would pass many more rooms and have many more opportunities to be seen. If our culprit was more cautious and less heedless, he would keep a candle lit and conceal it inside some sort of container. Obviously, he wouldn’t want his flame to be visible underneath the door to his room in the hallway, lest one of us sages knocks on his door and harasses him about being up too late or wasting candles unnecessarily. In addition, he could use such a container to carry the candle to the watermill and be much less visible. Certainly, that’s not the only way it could be done, but since it’s a very sensible and low-risk way of approaching a high-risk task, we should start by seeking out evidence of it. Thus, if we’re going to search the room, we should seek out something that could be used for such a purpose. Also, as I said last night, I think it’s likely our culprit pinched some straw from his own mattress to create kindling, so we’ll have to inspect the mattresses in search of it.”

<-- Go to Part 50         Go to Part 52 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

In the morning, after they had eaten and exercised, Noone met alone with Amida and Eloh in the gallery to speak with them privately. The gallery was an open, unfurnished room used as a meeting place and winter exercise room. It was currently empty except for these three person and had only a few windows, making it somewhat dark at this hour. Like much of the cloisters, it had an unadorned austerity, defined by functionality but still beautiful in its way. The walls were decorated all around with a series of paintings created by the Sages, added in order to illustrate scenes from the distant and half-mythical Aresan history for the illiterate masses.

The series of paintings displayed notable moments in their history, meant to capture the broad scope of the historical trends that had transpired. First, there was a depiction of the distant period of near-perfection and paradise that humanity had once enjoyed, characterized by technological marvels and a close proximity to the divine; the next painting showed the devil Aza-toth’s son Char-Sensa-Doon being banished to the Second Realm by Hieronymous; a third showed Aza-thoth’s other son, Ser-Thoth, in the form of a white stag, infecting William Sirr, Chief Royal of Danfur; a fourth showed William Sirr, standing before his great, sky-piercing city of Danfur, initiating war among the Five Cities by sending forth his armies to conquer; a fifth showed the ruins and ashes of the Five Cities, exemplifying the downfall of the human world and its near extinction; a sixth showed the divine war, between Anan and Aza-toth, depicting the two divine beings clashing in the sky with swords of lightning; a seventh showed Anan’s ultimate triumph as Aza-toth cowered before him in submission; an eight showed Anan and the council of gods, from their position in the sky seated at their great table, reaching down to help pull what remained of the human race out of the ashes; a ninth exemplified the period of “Reconstruction” in which humanity currently existed, as humans built modest cities upon the once great marvels of the past; and the tenth, the last painting, depicted the utopic future they expected, when humanity would re-ascend to their position of paradise and again be close to the gods and masters of their world.

Eloh was standing next to Amida looking at the paintings while Noone sat upon the ground with a candle beside her thinking deeply and in silence.

“In order to figure out who set fire to the mill, we need to figure out how he did this,” Noone began, abruptly breaking the silence, “We need to think about what would he do, what would he have to do to succeed at what we know he did.”

Noone stood up and crossed the room with the candle in hand. She touched the flame to the heavy wick of the oil lamp, which blazed with a strong light as soon as it was lit. The main entrance leading into the cloisters was at the far end of the gallery, and, for this reason, a large oil lamp was placed in the room and lit at night to give illumination to any late night arrivals.

“If the person who lit the fire had a candle, he must have either kept the candle lit after bedtime or he relit it from this flame here in the gallery. The only other flame normally kept on at night is the brazier outside by the sentries, but it’s unlikely the person would go out there.

“Certainly a person could sneak from their room to the gallery here and out to the courtyard without being seen. But it would be risky. He would pass many more rooms and have many more opportunities to be seen. If our culprit was more cautious and less heedless, he would keep a candle lit and conceal it inside some sort of container. Obviously, he wouldn’t want his flame to be visible underneath the door to his room in the hallway, lest one of us sages knocks on his door and harasses him about being up too late or wasting candles unnecessarily. In addition, he could use such a container to carry the candle to the watermill and be much less visible. Certainly, that’s not the only way it could be done, but since it’s a very sensible and low-risk way of approaching a high-risk task, we should start by seeking out evidence of it. Thus, if we’re going to search the room, we should seek out something that could be used for such a purpose. Also, as I said last night, I think it’s likely our culprit pinched some straw from his own mattress to create kindling, so we’ll have to inspect the mattresses in search of it.”

<-- Go to Part 50         Go to Part 52 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 51

Aresan Clan Summary - Parts 41-50

Eloh secretly searches the rooms of his three suspects in the Cloisters. He is isn’t able to eliminate any three as suspects, though he does curiously find a sizable collection of books in many languages in Jule’s room, a collection that seems far to expensive for a humble weaver, as Jule claims to be.

Alles’ soldiers march hastily out of fear of Erek-Monte’s troops. Resting for the night, Annsi avoids Alles’ tent. She is attacked by Orick with two other soldiers, who attempt to rape her. They are stopped by Alles, who punishes the three soldiers. He then takes her to his tent and lets her sleep in his bed.

Noone returns late at night to the Cloisters. She is frustrated that Eloh hasn’t found anything out while she’s been away. She interrogates him about the person who hit him on the head in the watermill, and she eliminates Sanda as a suspect as being too short. They also decide how the fire is likely to have been started and resolve to search Arrs and Jule’s rooms again.

Lipmon is visited by Orinda’s leading citizen, Roderick, the Arbiter, who is in charge of taming and controlling the Creature of Virtue. Lipmon recounts the destruction of Still Creek and the kidnapping of Tann. Though Lipmon doesn’t know from where the soldiers came, Roderick suspects they are from the Aresan Clan or the Omnia. Realizing that the attack is an act of war, he decides to take Lipmon to the Fourth Order capital, Waldoon, to speak with the High Priest.

Salles wakes early for exercise and invites Darma to join him, though the Sages’ intricate exercises are supposed to be a secret only known to the Sages. Not having exercise clothes, Darma dresses skimpily and struggles to follow the complex movements of the exercise. Afterwards, Darma shows him about town, and seeing a statue of Neer and Naal, she tells the story of these mythical heroes. The fiancés of brothers Neer and Naal were violated by a powerful tyrant; they vowed revenge, but failed on multiple attempts to kill the tyrant; So Naal killed Neer so that Neer, as a ghost, could successfully kill the tyrant.

<-- Summary of Parts 31-40            Summary of Parts 51-60 -->

You can see all parts of The Aresan Clan written so far collected here.

Eloh secretly searches the rooms of his three suspects in the Cloisters. He is isn’t able to eliminate any three as suspects, though he does curiously find a sizable collection of books in many languages in Jule’s room, a collection that seems far to expensive for a humble weaver, as Jule claims to be.

Alles’ soldiers march hastily out of fear of Erek-Monte’s troops. Resting for the night, Annsi avoids Alles’ tent. She is attacked by Orick with two other soldiers, who attempt to rape her. They are stopped by Alles, who punishes the three soldiers. He then takes her to his tent and lets her sleep in his bed.

Noone returns late at night to the Cloisters. She is frustrated that Eloh hasn’t found anything out while she’s been away. She interrogates him about the person who hit him on the head in the watermill, and she eliminates Sanda as a suspect as being too short. They also decide how the fire is likely to have been started and resolve to search Arrs and Jule’s rooms again.

Lipmon is visited by Orinda’s leading citizen, Roderick, the Arbiter, who is in charge of taming and controlling the Creature of Virtue. Lipmon recounts the destruction of Still Creek and the kidnapping of Tann. Though Lipmon doesn’t know from where the soldiers came, Roderick suspects they are from the Aresan Clan or the Omnia. Realizing that the attack is an act of war, he decides to take Lipmon to the Fourth Order capital, Waldoon, to speak with the High Priest.

Salles wakes early for exercise and invites Darma to join him, though the Sages’ intricate exercises are supposed to be a secret only known to the Sages. Not having exercise clothes, Darma dresses skimpily and struggles to follow the complex movements of the exercise. Afterwards, Darma shows him about town, and seeing a statue of Neer and Naal, she tells the story of these mythical heroes. The fiancés of brothers Neer and Naal were violated by a powerful tyrant; they vowed revenge, but failed on multiple attempts to kill the tyrant; So Naal killed Neer so that Neer, as a ghost, could successfully kill the tyrant.

<-- Summary of Parts 31-40            Summary of Parts 51-60 -->

You can see all parts of The Aresan Clan written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan Summary - Parts 41-50

Aresan Clan pt 50

“Neer and Naal were two brothers who lived during the tyranny of Lo-Barow,” Darma began, “According to the story, they were engaged to be married to the two most beautiful women in all Lamosa. But just before their dual wedding, Lo-Barow caught sight of the two fair virgins engaged to be married to Neer and Naal. He was so overwhelmed by his lust, that he had to have these two women. He tried to bring them into his harem, but the women were faithful to their fiancés, and told Lo-Barow that they were already pledged in marriage. Unable to contain his passion, he had his guards detain the two women, so that he could he rape them. Some say that after he had defiled them, he let all the men of his guard also rape them until the women were so crushed by the violent treatment of the guards that they died. Others say that the women, out of shame, committed suicide by running to the top of the highest tower of Lo-Barrow’s castle and, hand in hand, throwing themselves from the top.

“After the deaths of their fiancés, Neer and Naal swore they would revenge themselves upon Lo-Baow. They made three attempts to assassinate him. First, they tried to intersect him in a public square by walking up to him and running him through with a dagger, but they were stopped by Lo-Barow’s bodyguards and had to flee for their life. Second, they tried to capture him in court, launching a spear at him while he sat on his throne surrounded by his courtiers, but their shot missed and they again had to flee. Third, they tried to scale the walls of his castle and attack him in the luxury of his harem by poison, but Lo-Barow’s poisoned meal was eaten by one of his concubines, killing her instead.

“Ultimately, Neer and Naal realized that the only way they could reach Lo-Barrow, was by supernatural means. So they decided that one would have to die and carry their revenge beyond death. To choose who would die they stood together as you see them in the statue and then they launched a sword high into the air, high enough that when it landed blade first, it would penetrate the chest of one of them. They let Anan choose who was more worthy to die and who more worthy to live. After being launched high in the air and careening to the ground, the sword touched the ground penetrating through the heart of Neer, who died instantly from his wound.

“His brother, as they had agreed, left Neer’s body unburied, merely sheltering it so that no animals might defile it. Because his body hadn’t been given the proper burial rights, Neer’s ghost was prevented from ascending the ladder into the upper story of heaven, leaving him to wander the earth as a shade. But, as a shade, Neer was able to penetrate all the defenses of Lo-Barow. He was able to walk through all doors, to walk past all Lo-Barow’s guards and enter his room while he slept. And in that room he transformed his ghostly image into the visage of death and so frightened Lo-Barow that his heart ceased to beat. Once Lo-Barow was dead, Naal was finally able to bury his own brother, laying the body in the earth with all the proper rites and services. The ghost of Neer was finally able to ascend up into the afterlife. Purportedly it’s on this very spot where the ladder into the upper story above the table of heaven ascends.

“Also, as a result, Lamosa was freed from one of the worst tyrants in our history, which is why Neer and Naal are heroes to us here, the great tyrannicides of Lo-Barow.”

“Most interesting,” Salles said after Darma had completed the story.

“There’re many more things to see in this city,” Darma said, “And many more stories, to be sure. We should keep moving so we can see more of them. Though, we don’t want to walk too much today, since we’ll want to save our legs for tonight, when I take you out to some real dancing. It’ll be my chance to teach you some steps.”

Darma then grabbed Salles arm and led him out of the square further into the city.

<-- Go to Part 49         Go to Part 51 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

“Neer and Naal were two brothers who lived during the tyranny of Lo-Barow,” Darma began, “According to the story, they were engaged to be married to the two most beautiful women in all Lamosa. But just before their dual wedding, Lo-Barow caught sight of the two fair virgins engaged to be married to Neer and Naal. He was so overwhelmed by his lust, that he had to have these two women. He tried to bring them into his harem, but the women were faithful to their fiancés, and told Lo-Barow that they were already pledged in marriage. Unable to contain his passion, he had his guards detain the two women, so that he could he rape them. Some say that after he had defiled them, he let all the men of his guard also rape them until the women were so crushed by the violent treatment of the guards that they died. Others say that the women, out of shame, committed suicide by running to the top of the highest tower of Lo-Barrow’s castle and, hand in hand, throwing themselves from the top.

“After the deaths of their fiancés, Neer and Naal swore they would revenge themselves upon Lo-Baow. They made three attempts to assassinate him. First, they tried to intersect him in a public square by walking up to him and running him through with a dagger, but they were stopped by Lo-Barow’s bodyguards and had to flee for their life. Second, they tried to capture him in court, launching a spear at him while he sat on his throne surrounded by his courtiers, but their shot missed and they again had to flee. Third, they tried to scale the walls of his castle and attack him in the luxury of his harem by poison, but Lo-Barow’s poisoned meal was eaten by one of his concubines, killing her instead.

“Ultimately, Neer and Naal realized that the only way they could reach Lo-Barrow, was by supernatural means. So they decided that one would have to die and carry their revenge beyond death. To choose who would die they stood together as you see them in the statue and then they launched a sword high into the air, high enough that when it landed blade first, it would penetrate the chest of one of them. They let Anan choose who was more worthy to die and who more worthy to live. After being launched high in the air and careening to the ground, the sword touched the ground penetrating through the heart of Neer, who died instantly from his wound.

“His brother, as they had agreed, left Neer’s body unburied, merely sheltering it so that no animals might defile it. Because his body hadn’t been given the proper burial rights, Neer’s ghost was prevented from ascending the ladder into the upper story of heaven, leaving him to wander the earth as a shade. But, as a shade, Neer was able to penetrate all the defenses of Lo-Barow. He was able to walk through all doors, to walk past all Lo-Barow’s guards and enter his room while he slept. And in that room he transformed his ghostly image into the visage of death and so frightened Lo-Barow that his heart ceased to beat. Once Lo-Barow was dead, Naal was finally able to bury his own brother, laying the body in the earth with all the proper rites and services. The ghost of Neer was finally able to ascend up into the afterlife. Purportedly it’s on this very spot where the ladder into the upper story above the table of heaven ascends.

“Also, as a result, Lamosa was freed from one of the worst tyrants in our history, which is why Neer and Naal are heroes to us here, the great tyrannicides of Lo-Barow.”

“Most interesting,” Salles said after Darma had completed the story.

“There’re many more things to see in this city,” Darma said, “And many more stories, to be sure. We should keep moving so we can see more of them. Though, we don’t want to walk too much today, since we’ll want to save our legs for tonight, when I take you out to some real dancing. It’ll be my chance to teach you some steps.”

Darma then grabbed Salles arm and led him out of the square further into the city.

<-- Go to Part 49         Go to Part 51 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 50

Aresan Clan pt 49

“So, after that, are you now going to make me breakfast?” Darma asked, still recovering her breath, “I’m eager to learn some of the Sage’s recipes as well.”

“And that is another of the three pillars of the Sage’s longevity,” Salles said.

“Exactly,” Darma replied, “I want to live to see my hundred and twentieth birthday, like Noone.”

Salles shook his head, “Don’t expect over much. Even if you eat like a sage, exercise like a sage and sleep like a sage, you still don’t have the blood of a sage. Longevity tends to run in the bloodline of Aresan royalty. Nonetheless, I will cook your breakfast as you command mistress.”

Darma summoned Onur to the kitchen to watch Salles while he prepared her breakfast. “I’m afraid you’d have to come to the cloisters to really see the full extent of the Sage’s cuisine. I simply don’t have the raw materials here. I’m doing the best with what I have, but it’s not of equal quality. And, many of the things we eat can take many days, even multiple seasons to prepare. This cheese for example,” Salles said while he crumbled a pungent cheese on top of two hot bowls of oat porridge, “Has to be left to sit for half a year. Our honey-beer takes a full season to mature. Back at the cloisters our storerooms are filled with casks and barrels of food in various stages of preparation. Without that, what I have to show about our cuisine is incomplete.”

“I still appreciate you doing it,” she said, following him into the dining room when he set down the porridge and cheese next to the frothing mugs of beer.

“I should also add that, unlike our exercise, we have much less variety in our diet. The visitors from Lamosa are surprised when I tell them for that for my entire life, for three meals a day, I have eaten, almost exclusively, only one of seven different meals. The life of a sage is one of unvarying habits, schedules and routine. For me, the endless variety of possibilities presented by such a grand city as Lamosa are just a story.”

“Today I’ll show you the city,” Darma said as she ate through the porridge.

“You did hear what Noone said, didn’t you?” Salles asked.

“Yes, she has such a way of making something as pedestrian as walking through the city so much more exciting by forbidding it. That’s what I like about her,” Darma said.

Soon after their breakfast, Salles was following Darma out the front door of her large home onto the windy streets of Lamosa. In the exclusive Market Square district in which Darma lived, the streets were paved with stone and lined on either side by several-story high stone buildings, which seemed extend endlessly in either direction. A certain smell pervaded the air, emanating from the sewers, which flowed in deep, covered ditches on either side of the sidewalk. “You’d be surprised to know that there are parts of the city where the smell is much worse,” Darma said, leading the way as she touched a perfumed handkerchief to her nose.

For this stroll, Darma had changed into a casual but extremely fashionable dress. The rich dyes, still fresh in color, and many layers of intricately stitched fabrics clearly communicated the wealth of its wearer, and it was in stark contrast to the simple, well-worn habit of Salles as he walked beside her.

Darma led him to an open square only a few blocks from her home. Around the edges many sellers had set up stalls where a crowd of vocal and energetic merchants was selling bounteous wares, mostly food. But the real spectacle of the square was the statue in the center. On a raised stone platform, a bronze statue of two males glowed in the sunshine. The two figures both stood on their feet facing one another, but they leaned backwards, pointing their bare chests to the sky, while they held onto each other with one hand.

“This here is the oldest market in Lamosa,” Darma said, “And in the center we have the statue of Neer and Naal. Are you familiar with their story?”

“I’m embarrassed to say I’m not,” Salles admitted.

“It’s a story familiar to every resident of Lamosa,” Darma said, “You have to hear it.”

<-- Go to Part 48         Go to Part 50 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

“So, after that, are you now going to make me breakfast?” Darma asked, still recovering her breath, “I’m eager to learn some of the Sage’s recipes as well.”

“And that is another of the three pillars of the Sage’s longevity,” Salles said.

“Exactly,” Darma replied, “I want to live to see my hundred and twentieth birthday, like Noone.”

Salles shook his head, “Don’t expect over much. Even if you eat like a sage, exercise like a sage and sleep like a sage, you still don’t have the blood of a sage. Longevity tends to run in the bloodline of Aresan royalty. Nonetheless, I will cook your breakfast as you command mistress.”

Darma summoned Onur to the kitchen to watch Salles while he prepared her breakfast. “I’m afraid you’d have to come to the cloisters to really see the full extent of the Sage’s cuisine. I simply don’t have the raw materials here. I’m doing the best with what I have, but it’s not of equal quality. And, many of the things we eat can take many days, even multiple seasons to prepare. This cheese for example,” Salles said while he crumbled a pungent cheese on top of two hot bowls of oat porridge, “Has to be left to sit for half a year. Our honey-beer takes a full season to mature. Back at the cloisters our storerooms are filled with casks and barrels of food in various stages of preparation. Without that, what I have to show about our cuisine is incomplete.”

“I still appreciate you doing it,” she said, following him into the dining room when he set down the porridge and cheese next to the frothing mugs of beer.

“I should also add that, unlike our exercise, we have much less variety in our diet. The visitors from Lamosa are surprised when I tell them for that for my entire life, for three meals a day, I have eaten, almost exclusively, only one of seven different meals. The life of a sage is one of unvarying habits, schedules and routine. For me, the endless variety of possibilities presented by such a grand city as Lamosa are just a story.”

“Today I’ll show you the city,” Darma said as she ate through the porridge.

“You did hear what Noone said, didn’t you?” Salles asked.

“Yes, she has such a way of making something as pedestrian as walking through the city so much more exciting by forbidding it. That’s what I like about her,” Darma said.

Soon after their breakfast, Salles was following Darma out the front door of her large home onto the windy streets of Lamosa. In the exclusive Market Square district in which Darma lived, the streets were paved with stone and lined on either side by several-story high stone buildings, which seemed extend endlessly in either direction. A certain smell pervaded the air, emanating from the sewers, which flowed in deep, covered ditches on either side of the sidewalk. “You’d be surprised to know that there are parts of the city where the smell is much worse,” Darma said, leading the way as she touched a perfumed handkerchief to her nose.

For this stroll, Darma had changed into a casual but extremely fashionable dress. The rich dyes, still fresh in color, and many layers of intricately stitched fabrics clearly communicated the wealth of its wearer, and it was in stark contrast to the simple, well-worn habit of Salles as he walked beside her.

Darma led him to an open square only a few blocks from her home. Around the edges many sellers had set up stalls where a crowd of vocal and energetic merchants was selling bounteous wares, mostly food. But the real spectacle of the square was the statue in the center. On a raised stone platform, a bronze statue of two males glowed in the sunshine. The two figures both stood on their feet facing one another, but they leaned backwards, pointing their bare chests to the sky, while they held onto each other with one hand.

“This here is the oldest market in Lamosa,” Darma said, “And in the center we have the statue of Neer and Naal. Are you familiar with their story?”

“I’m embarrassed to say I’m not,” Salles admitted.

“It’s a story familiar to every resident of Lamosa,” Darma said, “You have to hear it.”

<-- Go to Part 48         Go to Part 50 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 49

Aresan Clan pt 48

Salles woke in the early hours of dawn as the first light of sunrise just began to peak through his windows. After Noone had left, he’d been able to move into the room that Noone had occupied, a room with windows looking out on the city.

After rising from his bed he walked down the hall to Darma’s room and tapped lightly on her door. When she didn’t respond, he opened it and saw her sprawled across a large bed, covered by her luxurious sheets and wearing an elegant nightdress. “Mistress Darma,” Salles said, “Would you like to join me for exercise?”

“Salles?” she asked with a groan as she moved around in her sheets. She sat up in her bed, her dark hair fell somewhat messily over her face and her eyes looked a bit baggy with sleeplessness, but she still emanated much of her youthful beauty at even this, her least attractive time of day.

“Do you have something to wear for exercise?” Salles asked.

“I don't think I have such a thing,” she said groggily, “But I’ll find something. Leave me so I can change.”

Some minutes later, Salles was standing in the large open space of the living room and began the movements of his exercise in the dim purple light of morning. He wore a loose, string-belted cloak of light material and no shoes, as was traditionally worn by the Sages for summer exercise. It shifted and twirled around his body as he moved.

When Darma entered the room he stopped and looked at her in surprise. She’d taken one long narrow cloth and wrapped it around her waist and between her legs like a loin cloth, securely pinning it in the front; then she’d taken a another cloth and wrapped it around her chest, pressing her breasts against her body, and pinning that one also in the front; then she’d taken a bit of ribbon and knotted her hair into a bun. This was all she wore: her legs were exposed up to her bottom, her belly was exposed and her shoulders and arms were bare.

“I don’t think you should be appearing so lightly dressed in front of me,” Salles told her.

“Well I think it’s my choice how lightly dressed I appear in front of you,” Darma replied, “You can always look away. This’ll be good for exercising, I say: nothing to impede my movements. If you can avoid being distracted by me, then this shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Considering an important element of our exercise is focus, then I’m afraid to say it that it could be a problem — for a younger and less experienced sage, that is,” Salles said.

Salles began by standing in a straight, rigid posture, with his arms to the side and his feet together. “Each exercise is like a dance: it has many complex steps and movements,” Salles explained, “They all start in this position. Now, if you will just follow my lead.”

Salles then began to move. Salles’ entire body was in motion as he began to steps of the exercise, which included jumps and twists and would periodically transition from fast to slow. The exercise also included many stalls, during which Salles would freeze in a difficult to hold position, and many lifts, in which he used his body weight for strength training. Darma had difficulty keeping up with Salles: she couldn’t move with the grace and precision of his movements; she couldn’t keep up with the faster movements; she couldn’t coordinate all of the motions he made at once and she didn’t have the strength and flexibility for many of the steps.

“It’s difficult to learn,” Salles said upon completing the exercise, “I’ve been doing them, I should say, almost fifty years now. I can barely remember first learning them. And this is only one of the exercises. There are twenty-nine others. We typically do them four times a day.”

“I can’t see why Noone is so secretive about this,” Darma said breathlessly, collapsing to the floor in fatigue and rubbing her overstrained muscles, “It’d take a lot of work to learn these. I’m not going to learn anything by just happening to watch you once or twice.”

“It’s one of the three pillars of the Sage’s longevity,” Salles said, “It’s tradition for them to be our exclusive secret.”

<-- Go to Part 47         Go to Part 49 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Salles woke in the early hours of dawn as the first light of sunrise just began to peak through his windows. After Noone had left, he’d been able to move into the room that Noone had occupied, a room with windows looking out on the city.

After rising from his bed he walked down the hall to Darma’s room and tapped lightly on her door. When she didn’t respond, he opened it and saw her sprawled across a large bed, covered by her luxurious sheets and wearing an elegant nightdress. “Mistress Darma,” Salles said, “Would you like to join me for exercise?”

“Salles?” she asked with a groan as she moved around in her sheets. She sat up in her bed, her dark hair fell somewhat messily over her face and her eyes looked a bit baggy with sleeplessness, but she still emanated much of her youthful beauty at even this, her least attractive time of day.

“Do you have something to wear for exercise?” Salles asked.

“I don't think I have such a thing,” she said groggily, “But I’ll find something. Leave me so I can change.”

Some minutes later, Salles was standing in the large open space of the living room and began the movements of his exercise in the dim purple light of morning. He wore a loose, string-belted cloak of light material and no shoes, as was traditionally worn by the Sages for summer exercise. It shifted and twirled around his body as he moved.

When Darma entered the room he stopped and looked at her in surprise. She’d taken one long narrow cloth and wrapped it around her waist and between her legs like a loin cloth, securely pinning it in the front; then she’d taken a another cloth and wrapped it around her chest, pressing her breasts against her body, and pinning that one also in the front; then she’d taken a bit of ribbon and knotted her hair into a bun. This was all she wore: her legs were exposed up to her bottom, her belly was exposed and her shoulders and arms were bare.

“I don’t think you should be appearing so lightly dressed in front of me,” Salles told her.

“Well I think it’s my choice how lightly dressed I appear in front of you,” Darma replied, “You can always look away. This’ll be good for exercising, I say: nothing to impede my movements. If you can avoid being distracted by me, then this shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Considering an important element of our exercise is focus, then I’m afraid to say it that it could be a problem — for a younger and less experienced sage, that is,” Salles said.

Salles began by standing in a straight, rigid posture, with his arms to the side and his feet together. “Each exercise is like a dance: it has many complex steps and movements,” Salles explained, “They all start in this position. Now, if you will just follow my lead.”

Salles then began to move. Salles’ entire body was in motion as he began to steps of the exercise, which included jumps and twists and would periodically transition from fast to slow. The exercise also included many stalls, during which Salles would freeze in a difficult to hold position, and many lifts, in which he used his body weight for strength training. Darma had difficulty keeping up with Salles: she couldn’t move with the grace and precision of his movements; she couldn’t keep up with the faster movements; she couldn’t coordinate all of the motions he made at once and she didn’t have the strength and flexibility for many of the steps.

“It’s difficult to learn,” Salles said upon completing the exercise, “I’ve been doing them, I should say, almost fifty years now. I can barely remember first learning them. And this is only one of the exercises. There are twenty-nine others. We typically do them four times a day.”

“I can’t see why Noone is so secretive about this,” Darma said breathlessly, collapsing to the floor in fatigue and rubbing her overstrained muscles, “It’d take a lot of work to learn these. I’m not going to learn anything by just happening to watch you once or twice.”

“It’s one of the three pillars of the Sage’s longevity,” Salles said, “It’s tradition for them to be our exclusive secret.”

<-- Go to Part 47         Go to Part 49 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 48

Aresan Clan pt 47

“You heard Tann whisper all these things to you?” Roderick asked Lipmon.

“No, not exactly,” Lipmon replied, “He could speak directly into my mind, never really talked to me directly ‘cause of his weak voice. But Elden was the one who could really get him to talk. The boy told us how to reform our ceremonies, what gifts to give to the gods and when to expect rain and snow and how tall the crops would grow. He always knew.”

“But he didn’t tell you soldiers were coming?” Roderick asked.

“Well… If he told Elden, then Elden didn’t tell us. I don’t know why he wouldn’t, since Elden died with them. They killed all of them and then torched the houses, and left the bodies to burn inside. Even ate some of the feast we’d had prepared as penance to the gods. They were absolutely blasphemous men … and the woman.”

“Your story is most enlightening, Lipmon,” Roderick noted, “But I would like to know a bit more about these soldiers. Did they bear any insignias or carry a banner?” Lipmon shook his head. “Did you get a good look at any of the soldiers?”

“One of them,” Lipmon replied, “He pretended he was blind. Then he took Tann and was the first to attack. He gave me this scar. He was a large man, fair-skinned, light haired.”

“Which direction did they head when they left? That might give a hint as to the location where they reside. Was it sunriseward? sunsetward?”

“Summerward,” Lipmon said.

“Towards the territory of the Aresan Clan and the Omnia?” Roderick asked, “Are you sure they weren’t scraps? itinerant tribes, that is?”

“I’m sure they weren’t” Lipmon replied, “As I said, we’ve encountered them before. They sometimes trade with us. I mean, I don’t know anything about all the great nations out there. We don’t get much contact with anyone else out there in Still Creek. I just know the soldiers we encountered were something evil.”

“Thank you for your information,” Roderick said, rising from his chair, ready to leave, “You’ve been immensely helpful.”

“You’ve got to bring that boy back to us. You’ve got to send men to go and take him back. They’ve kidnapped him.” Lipmon was now pleading, with tears in his eyes, “He’s valuable to us, but he’d be valuable to all of you. He’s a precious jewel, a treasure. I crossed the mountains all this way to find someone to tell, in order to go get that boy back. My life is important, but for Tann, I’d do anything.”

“What you have described is an act of war. They have tried to cover it up. I think you’ll be pleased to know that there are many within the Fourth Order who would be very interested in your story. And very interested in acting in retaliation. Though I don’t think you understand the gravity of stealing Tann back. The Omnia and the Aresan Clan are a very large and powerful coalition. This is a very serious endeavor,” Roderick said, approaching Lipmon and leaning over him.

“I don’t know nothing about the people who took him. If you can’t do it, I’ll do it on my own. I’ll kidnap him back myself. Just point me the way. Tann’ll help me find him, too.”

Roderick laughed at this, saying, “I like your enthusiasm. But that won’t be necessary. You’ll have our help. I can assure you. But, again, I don’t think you understand the seriousness of this. We can’t simply act on a whim.”

Lipmon spoke quietly, “Well, I don’t think you understand how important Tann was to us, to all those who are now gone, and to me. And I’m the only one left, so I have to stand up for all the dead. That’s all that’s left for me.”

“My friend, you’re going to help us understand. As soon as you’re well, I’m going to bring you with me to meet a number of important individuals, and you’ll tell them all about Tann and the massacre. Do you think you want to do that?”

“Yes,” Lipmon said without hesitation.

“Then call on me as soon as you’re ready to travel,” Roderick said.

“Now,” Limpmon said, weakly attempting to push himself up out of bed.

“No, no, no,” Maya leapt forward and objected at this point, restraining Lipmon, “Give him until tomorrow. I know he’s eager, but he has a lot more determination than strength. We’ll call on you tomorrow.”

<-- Go to Part 46         Go to Part 48 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

“You heard Tann whisper all these things to you?” Roderick asked Lipmon.

“No, not exactly,” Lipmon replied, “He could speak directly into my mind, never really talked to me directly ‘cause of his weak voice. But Elden was the one who could really get him to talk. The boy told us how to reform our ceremonies, what gifts to give to the gods and when to expect rain and snow and how tall the crops would grow. He always knew.”

“But he didn’t tell you soldiers were coming?” Roderick asked.

“Well… If he told Elden, then Elden didn’t tell us. I don’t know why he wouldn’t, since Elden died with them. They killed all of them and then torched the houses, and left the bodies to burn inside. Even ate some of the feast we’d had prepared as penance to the gods. They were absolutely blasphemous men … and the woman.”

“Your story is most enlightening, Lipmon,” Roderick noted, “But I would like to know a bit more about these soldiers. Did they bear any insignias or carry a banner?” Lipmon shook his head. “Did you get a good look at any of the soldiers?”

“One of them,” Lipmon replied, “He pretended he was blind. Then he took Tann and was the first to attack. He gave me this scar. He was a large man, fair-skinned, light haired.”

“Which direction did they head when they left? That might give a hint as to the location where they reside. Was it sunriseward? sunsetward?”

“Summerward,” Lipmon said.

“Towards the territory of the Aresan Clan and the Omnia?” Roderick asked, “Are you sure they weren’t scraps? itinerant tribes, that is?”

“I’m sure they weren’t” Lipmon replied, “As I said, we’ve encountered them before. They sometimes trade with us. I mean, I don’t know anything about all the great nations out there. We don’t get much contact with anyone else out there in Still Creek. I just know the soldiers we encountered were something evil.”

“Thank you for your information,” Roderick said, rising from his chair, ready to leave, “You’ve been immensely helpful.”

“You’ve got to bring that boy back to us. You’ve got to send men to go and take him back. They’ve kidnapped him.” Lipmon was now pleading, with tears in his eyes, “He’s valuable to us, but he’d be valuable to all of you. He’s a precious jewel, a treasure. I crossed the mountains all this way to find someone to tell, in order to go get that boy back. My life is important, but for Tann, I’d do anything.”

“What you have described is an act of war. They have tried to cover it up. I think you’ll be pleased to know that there are many within the Fourth Order who would be very interested in your story. And very interested in acting in retaliation. Though I don’t think you understand the gravity of stealing Tann back. The Omnia and the Aresan Clan are a very large and powerful coalition. This is a very serious endeavor,” Roderick said, approaching Lipmon and leaning over him.

“I don’t know nothing about the people who took him. If you can’t do it, I’ll do it on my own. I’ll kidnap him back myself. Just point me the way. Tann’ll help me find him, too.”

Roderick laughed at this, saying, “I like your enthusiasm. But that won’t be necessary. You’ll have our help. I can assure you. But, again, I don’t think you understand the seriousness of this. We can’t simply act on a whim.”

Lipmon spoke quietly, “Well, I don’t think you understand how important Tann was to us, to all those who are now gone, and to me. And I’m the only one left, so I have to stand up for all the dead. That’s all that’s left for me.”

“My friend, you’re going to help us understand. As soon as you’re well, I’m going to bring you with me to meet a number of important individuals, and you’ll tell them all about Tann and the massacre. Do you think you want to do that?”

“Yes,” Lipmon said without hesitation.

“Then call on me as soon as you’re ready to travel,” Roderick said.

“Now,” Limpmon said, weakly attempting to push himself up out of bed.

“No, no, no,” Maya leapt forward and objected at this point, restraining Lipmon, “Give him until tomorrow. I know he’s eager, but he has a lot more determination than strength. We’ll call on you tomorrow.”

<-- Go to Part 46         Go to Part 48 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 47

Aresan Clan pt 46

Lipmon was sitting upon his bed when Merek walked into the bedroom, telling Lipmon, “You should probably know that Aleck disappeared yesterday.” Merek handed Lipmon some sour milk and a bit of bread, continuing, “He was the one who you said climbed into this window and talked to you about Still Creek and the little boy that was kidnapped. He disappears the same day as he talks to you. So strange. I never trusted the man. Always so mysterious. And snooping around everywhere. Always poking his nose into everyone’s doings. I’m hoping the creature got him. No. I shouldn’t say that. That’s horrible. I shouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Indeed sir, it is not something that should be wished but on the direst sinners,” a distinguished gentleman in a long, flowing cloak entering the room said to Merek. Passing him by he extended his hand to Lipmon, “Good to meet you, sir. I am Arbiter Roderick. I have come because I understand that I can be of great assistance to you. Though, I think I just misspoke, since it is truly you that should be of the greatest assistance to us. And you have, I hear, endured a harrowing journey in order to bring us your news. What a noble soul you must be.”

Roderick sat down at a table in front of the bed, drawing his long cloak in as he lowered himself into the chair. The cloak flowed in folds over his knees and down onto the floor. Maya followed behind Roderick, carrying a mug of beer, which she set down on the table next to him. She then asked, “Anything else you’re wanting, sir?”

“No, thank you. Your hospitality has more than exceeded itself,” Roderick said to Maya, “Please sit down and join us here. What Lipmon has to say concerns us all.” Turning to Lipmon, he said, “So, you come from Still Creek-forr? That was the congregation of Elden, if I am not mistaken. We in this town, I am afraid, hear many unsettling rumors about your humble village. More than a few people fear your town. Two of our citizens disappeared when they were supposed to visit your village. Now you tell us that something has happened there. Why don’t you tell us what you saw?”

“I’m not much of a speaker sir. So you’ll forgive me if I can’t organize what I saw coherently and if I ramble a bit,” Lipmon said.

“That is hardly something to apologize for,” Roderick assured him, “We are not in a hurry here and you shall have the floor for as long as it takes. Just say what comes to mind and we’ll ask questions to help you along. Just let your mind speak what’s in its memory.”

“Everyone’s dead there,” Lipmon began with a faltering voice, “Except me and Tann. And they kidnapped Tann.”

“They?” Roderick asked, “What can you say about these people that kidnapped Tann?”

“Men with swords,” Lipmon said, “Soldiers. Even a woman soldier I think. Not Fourth Order Soldiers. Not tribesman either. We’ve had encounters with them. The soldiers killed everyone except Tann and then they burned our town to the ground: every house, every bit of furniture and all the corpses along with them.”

“Tann?” Roderick asked, “Who is this?”

“A boy. A young boy. He was precious to us. Like no one else. A gift of the gods.”

“Why would they kidnap him?” Roderick asked, “You said they killed everyone, so I’m assuming they didn’t spare any of the other children. So they knew he was different?”

“Tann was a prophet. He spoke with the gods. And he was our voice to the gods.”

“And what did the gods tell you?” Roderick asked, calmly.

“Well, Tann didn’t speak to us directly, so much. He spoke to Elden. He was the one who discovered the boy. The first one to realize he was special. I mean we all could see he was special, but Elden was the first to really point it out. We loved that boy so much. The boy had a weak voice and he would only whisper things into Elden’s ear. I mean, he told me things too. But nothing significant. Told me the gods blessed me and that I was special.”

<-- Go to Part 45         Go to Part 47 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Lipmon was sitting upon his bed when Merek walked into the bedroom, telling Lipmon, “You should probably know that Aleck disappeared yesterday.” Merek handed Lipmon some sour milk and a bit of bread, continuing, “He was the one who you said climbed into this window and talked to you about Still Creek and the little boy that was kidnapped. He disappears the same day as he talks to you. So strange. I never trusted the man. Always so mysterious. And snooping around everywhere. Always poking his nose into everyone’s doings. I’m hoping the creature got him. No. I shouldn’t say that. That’s horrible. I shouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Indeed sir, it is not something that should be wished but on the direst sinners,” a distinguished gentleman in a long, flowing cloak entering the room said to Merek. Passing him by he extended his hand to Lipmon, “Good to meet you, sir. I am Arbiter Roderick. I have come because I understand that I can be of great assistance to you. Though, I think I just misspoke, since it is truly you that should be of the greatest assistance to us. And you have, I hear, endured a harrowing journey in order to bring us your news. What a noble soul you must be.”

Roderick sat down at a table in front of the bed, drawing his long cloak in as he lowered himself into the chair. The cloak flowed in folds over his knees and down onto the floor. Maya followed behind Roderick, carrying a mug of beer, which she set down on the table next to him. She then asked, “Anything else you’re wanting, sir?”

“No, thank you. Your hospitality has more than exceeded itself,” Roderick said to Maya, “Please sit down and join us here. What Lipmon has to say concerns us all.” Turning to Lipmon, he said, “So, you come from Still Creek-forr? That was the congregation of Elden, if I am not mistaken. We in this town, I am afraid, hear many unsettling rumors about your humble village. More than a few people fear your town. Two of our citizens disappeared when they were supposed to visit your village. Now you tell us that something has happened there. Why don’t you tell us what you saw?”

“I’m not much of a speaker sir. So you’ll forgive me if I can’t organize what I saw coherently and if I ramble a bit,” Lipmon said.

“That is hardly something to apologize for,” Roderick assured him, “We are not in a hurry here and you shall have the floor for as long as it takes. Just say what comes to mind and we’ll ask questions to help you along. Just let your mind speak what’s in its memory.”

“Everyone’s dead there,” Lipmon began with a faltering voice, “Except me and Tann. And they kidnapped Tann.”

“They?” Roderick asked, “What can you say about these people that kidnapped Tann?”

“Men with swords,” Lipmon said, “Soldiers. Even a woman soldier I think. Not Fourth Order Soldiers. Not tribesman either. We’ve had encounters with them. The soldiers killed everyone except Tann and then they burned our town to the ground: every house, every bit of furniture and all the corpses along with them.”

“Tann?” Roderick asked, “Who is this?”

“A boy. A young boy. He was precious to us. Like no one else. A gift of the gods.”

“Why would they kidnap him?” Roderick asked, “You said they killed everyone, so I’m assuming they didn’t spare any of the other children. So they knew he was different?”

“Tann was a prophet. He spoke with the gods. And he was our voice to the gods.”

“And what did the gods tell you?” Roderick asked, calmly.

“Well, Tann didn’t speak to us directly, so much. He spoke to Elden. He was the one who discovered the boy. The first one to realize he was special. I mean we all could see he was special, but Elden was the first to really point it out. We loved that boy so much. The boy had a weak voice and he would only whisper things into Elden’s ear. I mean, he told me things too. But nothing significant. Told me the gods blessed me and that I was special.”

<-- Go to Part 45         Go to Part 47 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 46

Aresan Clan pt 45

“Thus, we can assume that your assailant was close to your height, perhaps even somewhat taller than you. Right?” Noone continued

Eloh nodded his head a bit sheepishly as he looked down at Noone who stood in front of him.

“Additionally, the person also probably struck you using their right hand,” Noone explained. She then took the parchment in her left hand and swung it again, explaining, “You see how if I were to use a left hand and strike in the most natural and probable way, then I would hit the left side of your head? The only way one would be likely to hit you where they did using their left hand is if they were standing directly to your right and had approached from the side.” Noone walked to Eloh’s side and demonstrated. “But you would’ve certainly seen someone approaching from here in your peripheral vision. And you didn’t mention seeing the person at all before you were struck. Is that right?” Eloh nodded his head. “Now, if they used their right hand, then we can guess that it is their dominant hand. Thus, we are looking for a right-handed person about the same height as you. Does that eliminate anyone?”

“Yes,” Eloh admitted, “Arrs is about my height. Jule is maybe a hands-breadth taller. But Sanda’s much shorter than me.”

“Exactly,” Noone said, “It’s very unlikely Sanda did it. I myself would’ve probably eliminated the woman from consideration from the first. Even without considering the height, I didn’t think it was done by a woman.”

“Why is that?” Amida asked, standing against the wall in the back.

“Because women are more creative. Whereas our saboteur appears to be constrained by the stilted creativity of a man,” she said with as small smile, “Anything else you can tell us that can might help eliminate one more suspect?” Eloh shrugged his shoulders. “Did you observe any footprints that might have been laid down by our saboteur?”

“Far too many footprints around the watermill to possibly identify which ones were laid by the person who started the fire,” Eloh replied.

“Perhaps we can get somewhere by asking the question of how the fire started. You said you had observed a small fire burning before you were knocked out. What was feeding the fire? Was it the only one?”

“I believe it was the only one. At least at that point,” Eloh said, “Perhaps there were others started after I was knocked unconscious. The fire was right up against the wall opposite the door. It looked like it was just a small pile of kindling. A few small sticks, maybe some hay.”

“There are a great many mattresses in these cloisters stuffed with hay,” Noone interrupted at this point, “Maybe if we peak into our suspects’ rooms again we can find some evidence of whether they’ve been removing hay from their mattress. Admittedly, there are other possible places one could get hay, but if it looks like one of them pulled some from their mattresses, that would be suggestive. Also, did you smell anything when you saw the fire? Did it smell of oil of any kind?”

“No,” Eloh shook his head, “Don’t think so.”

“Then they probably weren’t using a lamp. Did it smell like the beeswax of a candle?” Noone asked.

“I don’t know. I smelled smoke,” Eloh replied, shaking his head.

“Well it probably was lit by a candle,” Noone said, “Unless it was a bright light, in which case it may have been a torch. Was the light you saw in the mill when you approached a bright light like a torch, or a dimmer light like a candle? Try to discount the brightness of the small fire that had been set when you answer this question.”

“You’re asking me to scrutinize my memories in more detail than I think they’ve been collected,” Eloh said, “The event’s not painted on the interior of my brain, I’m afraid to say. It’s more like a sight in the distance. But if you want me to answer the question based on what I remember, I don’t think it was bright enough for a torch.”

“A candle is more likely,” Noone mused, “Probably both used as the assailant’s source of light and the source of the fire. That’ll thus have to be the next thing we look into: to see if we can find that candle. We’ll continue tomorrow. Now it’s time to rest. Fortunately, we have made progress. More progress than you had made. Don’t you see how I was able to make more progress in this investigation in the short time before bedtime then you were able to make in two days? By carefully thinking things through.”

“Yes, your reasoning skills are very impressive,” Eloh humbly admitted. Amida emitted a small laugh when he said this.

“I don’t need flattery,” Noone said with a smile, “Now let’s get us all to bed.”

<-- Go to Part 44         Go to Part 46 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

“Thus, we can assume that your assailant was close to your height, perhaps even somewhat taller than you. Right?” Noone continued

Eloh nodded his head a bit sheepishly as he looked down at Noone who stood in front of him.

“Additionally, the person also probably struck you using their right hand,” Noone explained. She then took the parchment in her left hand and swung it again, explaining, “You see how if I were to use a left hand and strike in the most natural and probable way, then I would hit the left side of your head? The only way one would be likely to hit you where they did using their left hand is if they were standing directly to your right and had approached from the side.” Noone walked to Eloh’s side and demonstrated. “But you would’ve certainly seen someone approaching from here in your peripheral vision. And you didn’t mention seeing the person at all before you were struck. Is that right?” Eloh nodded his head. “Now, if they used their right hand, then we can guess that it is their dominant hand. Thus, we are looking for a right-handed person about the same height as you. Does that eliminate anyone?”

“Yes,” Eloh admitted, “Arrs is about my height. Jule is maybe a hands-breadth taller. But Sanda’s much shorter than me.”

“Exactly,” Noone said, “It’s very unlikely Sanda did it. I myself would’ve probably eliminated the woman from consideration from the first. Even without considering the height, I didn’t think it was done by a woman.”

“Why is that?” Amida asked, standing against the wall in the back.

“Because women are more creative. Whereas our saboteur appears to be constrained by the stilted creativity of a man,” she said with as small smile, “Anything else you can tell us that can might help eliminate one more suspect?” Eloh shrugged his shoulders. “Did you observe any footprints that might have been laid down by our saboteur?”

“Far too many footprints around the watermill to possibly identify which ones were laid by the person who started the fire,” Eloh replied.

“Perhaps we can get somewhere by asking the question of how the fire started. You said you had observed a small fire burning before you were knocked out. What was feeding the fire? Was it the only one?”

“I believe it was the only one. At least at that point,” Eloh said, “Perhaps there were others started after I was knocked unconscious. The fire was right up against the wall opposite the door. It looked like it was just a small pile of kindling. A few small sticks, maybe some hay.”

“There are a great many mattresses in these cloisters stuffed with hay,” Noone interrupted at this point, “Maybe if we peak into our suspects’ rooms again we can find some evidence of whether they’ve been removing hay from their mattress. Admittedly, there are other possible places one could get hay, but if it looks like one of them pulled some from their mattresses, that would be suggestive. Also, did you smell anything when you saw the fire? Did it smell of oil of any kind?”

“No,” Eloh shook his head, “Don’t think so.”

“Then they probably weren’t using a lamp. Did it smell like the beeswax of a candle?” Noone asked.

“I don’t know. I smelled smoke,” Eloh replied, shaking his head.

“Well it probably was lit by a candle,” Noone said, “Unless it was a bright light, in which case it may have been a torch. Was the light you saw in the mill when you approached a bright light like a torch, or a dimmer light like a candle? Try to discount the brightness of the small fire that had been set when you answer this question.”

“You’re asking me to scrutinize my memories in more detail than I think they’ve been collected,” Eloh said, “The event’s not painted on the interior of my brain, I’m afraid to say. It’s more like a sight in the distance. But if you want me to answer the question based on what I remember, I don’t think it was bright enough for a torch.”

“A candle is more likely,” Noone mused, “Probably both used as the assailant’s source of light and the source of the fire. That’ll thus have to be the next thing we look into: to see if we can find that candle. We’ll continue tomorrow. Now it’s time to rest. Fortunately, we have made progress. More progress than you had made. Don’t you see how I was able to make more progress in this investigation in the short time before bedtime then you were able to make in two days? By carefully thinking things through.”

“Yes, your reasoning skills are very impressive,” Eloh humbly admitted. Amida emitted a small laugh when he said this.

“I don’t need flattery,” Noone said with a smile, “Now let’s get us all to bed.”

<-- Go to Part 44         Go to Part 46 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 45

Aresan Clan pt 44

Amida and Noone walked up to the entrance of the cloisters just as the last light of day was disappearing. Two sentries stood at the entrance, keeping warm next to a charcoal-fed brazier that glowed from the inside. Amida and Noone passed through the gallery and went straight to Noone’s office where Eloh was there to meet them.

Noone looked haggard from a long day of travel and wearily set down her bag and sat upon a chair to rest. Amida set her bag down as well and deferentially waited for the eldest’s lead. As she stood there, she removed a ribbon, which held her hair in a ponytail, and her frizzy hair began to spread out untamed.

“All is well in Lamosa?” Eloh asked.

“Things are never well in Lamosa,” Noone replied, “It’s a dirty and impure place, as you well know, filled with waste and profligacy. But we encountered no unexpected problems, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good to hear,” Eloh nodded

“The hour is late and our bedtime approaches, but I’d like you to give me an update on what you’ve uncovered before I sleep,” Noone said, “I’ve told Amida what I know, so we’ll have her to help us out as well.”

Amida nodded her head and leaned against the wall while Eloh began to speak.

“Not much to tell, I’m afraid. I’ve been trying to approach this with a delicate hand so as not to arouse the least hint of suspicion. I’ve focused on the only three three residents to arrive in the past sixty-five days: Arrs, Sanda and Jule. I talked to the three of them informally, trying to learn anything about their activities on the night of the fire. Arrs and Sanda admitted to being up late that night. They were in fact together in Sanda’s room after hours, but were not so at the time of the fire. Jule claimed to have slept well that night, aside from being woken by the alarm, but did seem a bit tired. I searched their rooms. Nothing suspicious in either Arrs’ or Sanda’s possessions, aside from a few unused candles I found in Arrs’ room. I did find a cache of nearly twenty books in Jule’s room, along with a stone dagger, that appears to be of the make of the itinerant tribes. I don’t know how to explain these things, but they don’t appear to be related to the fire.”

“That is curious,” Noone admitted, turning to Amida and asking her, “What do you make of it?”

“He must be wealthy, then,” Amida said, “How else could he afford to have so many books? And a stone dagger must come at a high price. No tribesman would give it to an outsider easily or cheaply. I haven’t met the man, so I can only speculate. The question is why a wealthy man would come to live here and buy room and board with the sweat of his labor.”

“Yes,” Noone said, “Or he stole them all. We’ll have to look into that more carefully. But I am surprised that you didn’t find out more, Eloh.”

“I tried what I could. It’s difficult to make inquiries without letting anyone know you’re doing so.”

“But you’re a witness, Eloh,” Noone said, “That’s why I had you investigate. You were there. You saw the culprit.”

“Only a silhouette,” Eloh objected.

“It might be enough to eliminate suspects,” she said, “You saw a shadow in the watermill, you went to investigate and then, presumably, you were struck from behind on the head, knocking you out. Did the shadow appear to be a woman’s shadow or a man’s?”

“I couldn’t say,” Eloh replied.

“Did it appear to be tall or short?” Noone asked. When Eloh shrugged his shoulders, Noone continued, “At the very least you can ascertain where exactly on your head you were struck. That’s not too hard is it?”

Eloh reached around to the back of his head and felt a tender bump. He pointed to it for Noone and then bent down so she could examine it. It was on the right side of the back of his head, above the middle, maybe two fingers-width from the top.

“If the person who struck you was shorter than you, they probably would’ve hit you more to the bottom of your skull. Observe how it’d be if I did it.” Noone’s head only just reached Eloh’s shoulders, and when she picked up a rolled up piece of parchment and swung it like one attempting to strike him from behind, she tapped him at the base of the skull, just above the neck. “It would not be natural for a person of my height to hit you so high on your head,” she said, “I’d have to really reach. And I can’t imagine how I could swing with any force is such a way.”

<-- Go to Part 43         Go to Part 45 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Amida and Noone walked up to the entrance of the cloisters just as the last light of day was disappearing. Two sentries stood at the entrance, keeping warm next to a charcoal-fed brazier that glowed from the inside. Amida and Noone passed through the gallery and went straight to Noone’s office where Eloh was there to meet them.

Noone looked haggard from a long day of travel and wearily set down her bag and sat upon a chair to rest. Amida set her bag down as well and deferentially waited for the eldest’s lead. As she stood there, she removed a ribbon, which held her hair in a ponytail, and her frizzy hair began to spread out untamed.

“All is well in Lamosa?” Eloh asked.

“Things are never well in Lamosa,” Noone replied, “It’s a dirty and impure place, as you well know, filled with waste and profligacy. But we encountered no unexpected problems, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good to hear,” Eloh nodded

“The hour is late and our bedtime approaches, but I’d like you to give me an update on what you’ve uncovered before I sleep,” Noone said, “I’ve told Amida what I know, so we’ll have her to help us out as well.”

Amida nodded her head and leaned against the wall while Eloh began to speak.

“Not much to tell, I’m afraid. I’ve been trying to approach this with a delicate hand so as not to arouse the least hint of suspicion. I’ve focused on the only three three residents to arrive in the past sixty-five days: Arrs, Sanda and Jule. I talked to the three of them informally, trying to learn anything about their activities on the night of the fire. Arrs and Sanda admitted to being up late that night. They were in fact together in Sanda’s room after hours, but were not so at the time of the fire. Jule claimed to have slept well that night, aside from being woken by the alarm, but did seem a bit tired. I searched their rooms. Nothing suspicious in either Arrs’ or Sanda’s possessions, aside from a few unused candles I found in Arrs’ room. I did find a cache of nearly twenty books in Jule’s room, along with a stone dagger, that appears to be of the make of the itinerant tribes. I don’t know how to explain these things, but they don’t appear to be related to the fire.”

“That is curious,” Noone admitted, turning to Amida and asking her, “What do you make of it?”

“He must be wealthy, then,” Amida said, “How else could he afford to have so many books? And a stone dagger must come at a high price. No tribesman would give it to an outsider easily or cheaply. I haven’t met the man, so I can only speculate. The question is why a wealthy man would come to live here and buy room and board with the sweat of his labor.”

“Yes,” Noone said, “Or he stole them all. We’ll have to look into that more carefully. But I am surprised that you didn’t find out more, Eloh.”

“I tried what I could. It’s difficult to make inquiries without letting anyone know you’re doing so.”

“But you’re a witness, Eloh,” Noone said, “That’s why I had you investigate. You were there. You saw the culprit.”

“Only a silhouette,” Eloh objected.

“It might be enough to eliminate suspects,” she said, “You saw a shadow in the watermill, you went to investigate and then, presumably, you were struck from behind on the head, knocking you out. Did the shadow appear to be a woman’s shadow or a man’s?”

“I couldn’t say,” Eloh replied.

“Did it appear to be tall or short?” Noone asked. When Eloh shrugged his shoulders, Noone continued, “At the very least you can ascertain where exactly on your head you were struck. That’s not too hard is it?”

Eloh reached around to the back of his head and felt a tender bump. He pointed to it for Noone and then bent down so she could examine it. It was on the right side of the back of his head, above the middle, maybe two fingers-width from the top.

“If the person who struck you was shorter than you, they probably would’ve hit you more to the bottom of your skull. Observe how it’d be if I did it.” Noone’s head only just reached Eloh’s shoulders, and when she picked up a rolled up piece of parchment and swung it like one attempting to strike him from behind, she tapped him at the base of the skull, just above the neck. “It would not be natural for a person of my height to hit you so high on your head,” she said, “I’d have to really reach. And I can’t imagine how I could swing with any force is such a way.”

<-- Go to Part 43         Go to Part 45 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 44

Aresan Clan pt 43

I have come looking for you,” Orick said to Annsi. He now approached her again with those leering eyes, “I saw what was going on last night. You were in Alles’ tent but you weren’t sleeping with him. Does that mean he’s no longer with you?”

She responded, “He’s worried about the taint of the child passing from me to him. He thinks I may have become a swallow head and my mind’s been consumed by the child’s power.”

Orick smiled, “That’s how it starts. First he kicks you out of his bed then he kicks you out of the tent altogether and then you’ve got no one to protect you.”

“Get away from me,” Annsi said retracting step by step and then bumping into a tree from behind. He still approached her, and she tried to push him away.

“We’re still outside the borders of Lamosa. There is no law to protect us out here, and no way for crimes committed out here to be prosecuted. That leaves a vulnerable woman like you unprotected. Fortunately, I’m willing to offer you my protection. You come sleep in my tent and I’ll give you my full protection from whomsoever might make any advances or threaten violence upon you. Me and my two boys, here. What do you say?” Orick said, “I don’t worry about the child’s taint.”

“I don’t need any of you,” she said defiantly, “I can protect myself.”

“I don’t think so,” Orick said as he reached out to touch her breast, “Women soldiers are just to keep the commander happy. Didn’t you know that when you signed up? They can’t really fight.” She dusted away his hand, but he reached again, approaching closer. She tried to push away his face but his mouth kept moving closer and closer.

“Oh ho! You may be able to swing a sword, but eventually you’ve got to put your sword down and close your eyes to sleep. And how pretty you look when you sleep. No man could resist himself.”

Rock shouted at Orick, “Stop the pillow talk, Orick. Give it to her now so they’ll be some left for Solis and I. Alles might still come by.”

“I’m doing it the way I want to. I want to give her a chance to consent,” Orick said, speaking to Rock, and then turning to Annsi, “It’d be so much easier if you consented” while he leaned in for a kiss.

She turned away and then pushed at his face with her hand. He was getting angrier and grabbed her face and planted a long kiss on her lips while she squirmed. “A good girl like you knows not to scream,” he said, now reaching for her trousers, trying to open them with one hand while the other hand still clung to her jaw. His hand reached down inside her trousers and she tensed all over when she felt hands against her.

Then the sound of a body violently being struck drew Orick’s attention. Rock lay on the ground after Alles had thrown him against a tree. Alles was now walking towards Solis, who fumbled on his lame leg. Solis even drew his sword but he was afraid to use it. Alles raised his foot and kicked him hard on the chest. He fell to the ground breathlessly, his sword dropping beside him. Alles picked up a rock and clenched it in his fist, then he punched the side of Solis’ head with his rock-reinforced fist, knocking him unconscious.

Orick let Annsi go, and he stood rigidly to attention, like a dutiful soldier. Annsi punched him hard in the stomach, then as Orick bent over in pain he threw him into a tree, head first, and Orick collapsed. Alles called over some men to help and the three unconscious men were stripped, then a rope was wrapped around each one of them, around their arms and torse. Then they were all hung from trees like this until morning. They would soon wake up shivering with a soreness all around their chest and arms and would have to endure it all through the night.

Annsi sat timidly on the ground while all these preparations were underway. She had cried but now her cheeks were dry. Alles gave her his hand and stood her up off the ground. He held her hand as she walked and then as she was slow he picked her up in his arms and took her to his tent. He lay her gently in his bed off to the side and gingerly put the covers over her. She watched him longingly as he carefully attended to her.

He then closed the curtain and left her to her bed alone where he prepared himself to sleep in the center of his tent. Annsi cried only a few more tears as she turned onto her side and tried to sleep.

<-- Go to Part 42         Go to Part 44 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

I have come looking for you,” Orick said to Annsi. He now approached her again with those leering eyes, “I saw what was going on last night. You were in Alles’ tent but you weren’t sleeping with him. Does that mean he’s no longer with you?”

She responded, “He’s worried about the taint of the child passing from me to him. He thinks I may have become a swallow head and my mind’s been consumed by the child’s power.”

Orick smiled, “That’s how it starts. First he kicks you out of his bed then he kicks you out of the tent altogether and then you’ve got no one to protect you.”

“Get away from me,” Annsi said retracting step by step and then bumping into a tree from behind. He still approached her, and she tried to push him away.

“We’re still outside the borders of Lamosa. There is no law to protect us out here, and no way for crimes committed out here to be prosecuted. That leaves a vulnerable woman like you unprotected. Fortunately, I’m willing to offer you my protection. You come sleep in my tent and I’ll give you my full protection from whomsoever might make any advances or threaten violence upon you. Me and my two boys, here. What do you say?” Orick said, “I don’t worry about the child’s taint.”

“I don’t need any of you,” she said defiantly, “I can protect myself.”

“I don’t think so,” Orick said as he reached out to touch her breast, “Women soldiers are just to keep the commander happy. Didn’t you know that when you signed up? They can’t really fight.” She dusted away his hand, but he reached again, approaching closer. She tried to push away his face but his mouth kept moving closer and closer.

“Oh ho! You may be able to swing a sword, but eventually you’ve got to put your sword down and close your eyes to sleep. And how pretty you look when you sleep. No man could resist himself.”

Rock shouted at Orick, “Stop the pillow talk, Orick. Give it to her now so they’ll be some left for Solis and I. Alles might still come by.”

“I’m doing it the way I want to. I want to give her a chance to consent,” Orick said, speaking to Rock, and then turning to Annsi, “It’d be so much easier if you consented” while he leaned in for a kiss.

She turned away and then pushed at his face with her hand. He was getting angrier and grabbed her face and planted a long kiss on her lips while she squirmed. “A good girl like you knows not to scream,” he said, now reaching for her trousers, trying to open them with one hand while the other hand still clung to her jaw. His hand reached down inside her trousers and she tensed all over when she felt hands against her.

Then the sound of a body violently being struck drew Orick’s attention. Rock lay on the ground after Alles had thrown him against a tree. Alles was now walking towards Solis, who fumbled on his lame leg. Solis even drew his sword but he was afraid to use it. Alles raised his foot and kicked him hard on the chest. He fell to the ground breathlessly, his sword dropping beside him. Alles picked up a rock and clenched it in his fist, then he punched the side of Solis’ head with his rock-reinforced fist, knocking him unconscious.

Orick let Annsi go, and he stood rigidly to attention, like a dutiful soldier. Annsi punched him hard in the stomach, then as Orick bent over in pain he threw him into a tree, head first, and Orick collapsed. Alles called over some men to help and the three unconscious men were stripped, then a rope was wrapped around each one of them, around their arms and torse. Then they were all hung from trees like this until morning. They would soon wake up shivering with a soreness all around their chest and arms and would have to endure it all through the night.

Annsi sat timidly on the ground while all these preparations were underway. She had cried but now her cheeks were dry. Alles gave her his hand and stood her up off the ground. He held her hand as she walked and then as she was slow he picked her up in his arms and took her to his tent. He lay her gently in his bed off to the side and gingerly put the covers over her. She watched him longingly as he carefully attended to her.

He then closed the curtain and left her to her bed alone where he prepared himself to sleep in the center of his tent. Annsi cried only a few more tears as she turned onto her side and tried to sleep.

<-- Go to Part 42         Go to Part 44 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 43

Aresan Clan pt 42

Even more surprising, Eloh found at the very bottom of Jule’s bag a distinctive weapon of the itinerant tribes: a stone dagger held in a forearm sheath. The blade of the dagger was made of chipped and sharpened stone, with a keen but jagged edge. The stone blade was not only exclusive to the itinerant tribes, but was one reserved for special occasion. It was solely used in formal ceremonies, ritualized combat and the execution of exceptional enemies. No maker of stone blades would make such a thing for an outsider: meaning that Jule had either stolen it from an itinerant tribesman or he was one himself, previously or currently.

Eloh wanted to investigate further, but he heard a sound in the hallway. He hastily put the books, bed and bag back in place and stepped out of the room, quietly closing the door. When he stepped into the hall he was faced with Arrs, who looked at him curiously. “What you doing in Jule’s room?” Arrs asked.

“I was dropping something off for him,” Eloh said, “Nothing important. How’s the work going? You looking for a break?”

“Not now,” Arrs said, “Things are coming along well. But I was coming back here actually to ask you a question of ethical theory.” Eloh raised an eyebrow when he heard this. “What is the attitude of the sages to romantic relationships between people of disparate ages? Are there any moral concerns about that?”

“And you mean in particular about romantic relationships between older women and younger men?” Eloh asked. Arrs didn’t reply, but simply lowered his head. “Madrus doesn’t begin for several days you know, and until Madrus no sex whatsoever. But once Madrus begins, as far as we’re concerned, if you are an adult, you can choose any partner you like, so long as its consensual and it doesn’t violate some other agreement or oath. In your case, since you aren’t married, I don’t see the problem.”

“Thank you Elder Eloh,” Arrs then said with a small smile and ran off to return to his work.


Alles and his men hastened their march towards Lamosa out of fear that Erek-Monte would attack them again. It was doubtful they would have any advance warning if there was an attack and his men searched about themselves nervously all day, prepared for a fight. Alles sent a runner ahead to gather some troops from the nearest fort, to escort them to the outer bulwark. The troops only arrived just before nightfall, and, as they got closer and closer to Lamosa, attack grew less likely, but he was still wary.

All day they had moved in preparedness and caution, such that when they stopped for the evening, the men were exhausted and badly in need of rest. Alles had hoped to travel further and bring his men within a day’s hike of Lamosa, but they couldn’t achieve such a distance.

By the time Annsi had dined, Samuel was already asleep, but she was hesitant to go back to Alles’ tent and face rejection again. His coldness sometimes could be so unbearable and she thought it might be better to wait until he was asleep to enter the tent. She could put up with sharing a tent like this for these last two nights, until she was back in Lamosa and had her own quarters.

In the night sky were the twinkling of the many minor gods, and the battle lines and tracks of their ancient wars stained the sky with dappled lights. Shapes and figures of their interactions could be recognized among the lights and she observed curiously these moments now frozen permanently in the sky like a painted picture.

As she was staring upwards, she was startled by the sound of someone approaching her. Her immediate thought was of Erek-Monte’s raiding party attacking again and she grabbed her sword. But as the sauntering form of Orick became visible in the starlight she relaxed. He was trailed by Rock and a limping Solis, who both held back as Orick moved closer.

Orick had never made Annsi comfortable and she liked little to be either alone with him or close to him. The closer he came the more uncomfortable she became. She reflexively turned partially away from him like one trying to avoid a strong, dusty wind. She said, “Orick? Have you come looking for me? Is Alles looking for me?”

<-- Go to Part 41         Go to Part 43 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Even more surprising, Eloh found at the very bottom of Jule’s bag a distinctive weapon of the itinerant tribes: a stone dagger held in a forearm sheath. The blade of the dagger was made of chipped and sharpened stone, with a keen but jagged edge. The stone blade was not only exclusive to the itinerant tribes, but was one reserved for special occasion. It was solely used in formal ceremonies, ritualized combat and the execution of exceptional enemies. No maker of stone blades would make such a thing for an outsider: meaning that Jule had either stolen it from an itinerant tribesman or he was one himself, previously or currently.

Eloh wanted to investigate further, but he heard a sound in the hallway. He hastily put the books, bed and bag back in place and stepped out of the room, quietly closing the door. When he stepped into the hall he was faced with Arrs, who looked at him curiously. “What you doing in Jule’s room?” Arrs asked.

“I was dropping something off for him,” Eloh said, “Nothing important. How’s the work going? You looking for a break?”

“Not now,” Arrs said, “Things are coming along well. But I was coming back here actually to ask you a question of ethical theory.” Eloh raised an eyebrow when he heard this. “What is the attitude of the sages to romantic relationships between people of disparate ages? Are there any moral concerns about that?”

“And you mean in particular about romantic relationships between older women and younger men?” Eloh asked. Arrs didn’t reply, but simply lowered his head. “Madrus doesn’t begin for several days you know, and until Madrus no sex whatsoever. But once Madrus begins, as far as we’re concerned, if you are an adult, you can choose any partner you like, so long as its consensual and it doesn’t violate some other agreement or oath. In your case, since you aren’t married, I don’t see the problem.”

“Thank you Elder Eloh,” Arrs then said with a small smile and ran off to return to his work.


Alles and his men hastened their march towards Lamosa out of fear that Erek-Monte would attack them again. It was doubtful they would have any advance warning if there was an attack and his men searched about themselves nervously all day, prepared for a fight. Alles sent a runner ahead to gather some troops from the nearest fort, to escort them to the outer bulwark. The troops only arrived just before nightfall, and, as they got closer and closer to Lamosa, attack grew less likely, but he was still wary.

All day they had moved in preparedness and caution, such that when they stopped for the evening, the men were exhausted and badly in need of rest. Alles had hoped to travel further and bring his men within a day’s hike of Lamosa, but they couldn’t achieve such a distance.

By the time Annsi had dined, Samuel was already asleep, but she was hesitant to go back to Alles’ tent and face rejection again. His coldness sometimes could be so unbearable and she thought it might be better to wait until he was asleep to enter the tent. She could put up with sharing a tent like this for these last two nights, until she was back in Lamosa and had her own quarters.

In the night sky were the twinkling of the many minor gods, and the battle lines and tracks of their ancient wars stained the sky with dappled lights. Shapes and figures of their interactions could be recognized among the lights and she observed curiously these moments now frozen permanently in the sky like a painted picture.

As she was staring upwards, she was startled by the sound of someone approaching her. Her immediate thought was of Erek-Monte’s raiding party attacking again and she grabbed her sword. But as the sauntering form of Orick became visible in the starlight she relaxed. He was trailed by Rock and a limping Solis, who both held back as Orick moved closer.

Orick had never made Annsi comfortable and she liked little to be either alone with him or close to him. The closer he came the more uncomfortable she became. She reflexively turned partially away from him like one trying to avoid a strong, dusty wind. She said, “Orick? Have you come looking for me? Is Alles looking for me?”

<-- Go to Part 41         Go to Part 43 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 42

Aresan Clan pt 41

Progress on the reconstruction of the mill was moving along at an excellent pace. When Eloh had opened the waterways earlier in the day, sending a flood of water to the dormant wheel, its motion recommenced for the first time in two days. Eloh soon after put it to work, loading grain to grind beneath the heavy millstone. Repair was yet to be completed, since the walls and the floor of the structure still had to be repaired and considerable cleanup remained, but Eloh was able to reduce the work detail, putting much of the cloisters back to their regular assignments. And he made sure that his three suspects — Arrs, Sanda and Jule — were among those busy with work on the mill in order to keep them away from their rooms.

He visited Arrs’ room first. When he opened the door he was presented with a room of spare possessions. The hay-stuffed mattress, raised just above the floor by a small bed frame was covered only by the simple sheets the cloisters provided him. Beside the bed a canvas bag contained a few changes of clothes and intermixed between them were some tools of his farrier craft: some hammers, nails and horseshoes and sundry tools that Eloh didn’t recognize. Several candles lay across the low desk in the room, none of which had apparently been used. This itself seemed unusual, but it didn’t signify anything of importance. Otherwise, nothing suspicious was visible. He appeared to be a man of limited means and limited possessions. If he had set the mill on fire, there was no evidence to indicate so in his room.

Eloh visited Sanda’s room next. It was both more colorful and more aromatic than the previous. She had adorned her bed with brightly colored sheets, and draped fabric over her window. She had several pieces of jewelry which littered her desk and two framed portraits that hung on her wall, one of herself as a much younger woman, and one of a young male Eloh didn’t recognize. Unlike Arrs’, her room showed a wealth of possessions. She had a great many pieces of clothing, rich in color and expensive dyes. Since it was unlikely that a wealthy woman would decide to be a resident at the cloisters, she apparently used to be an affluent woman, or, perhaps, had been the beneficiary of a voluminous largess.

Buried deep within her bag, inside her clothes, Eloh found a small leather sack containing a green moss soaked in fermented berries, which he recognized as a soldier’s sponge. Next to it was a container of rouge made from concentrated beet juice, used to redden the cheeks and lips, and an eye shadow made from black charcoal. But none of what he found seemed at all suspicious.

In the third room he also failed to find anything that might further his investigation, but he did find something curious. Jule’s room looked the part of a weaver, decorated with a beautiful carpet on the floor and a great, woolen bedspread over the bed. A few of the smaller tools of his craft littered the room, such as threads, combs and shuttles. But when Eloh looked under the bed, he saw, concealed behind a bag, a cache of books, pushed against the wall in several short stacks. This was a very strange thing to find. Not only would it be surprising to meet a weaver who was literate, but also the cost of these books must have equaled the total earnings of an average weaver over several years. This was the library of a wealthy man. Eloh moved the bed aside, and picked up one book, a bound folio which appeared to be a medical text filled with illustrations of many plants and anatomical figures and annotation in the Omnian language. Looking at the handwritten lines, Eloh wondered how a weaver could afford a work that must have taken many full days worth of highly skilled labor to transcribe and illustrate. Even more surprising he noticed that the books were not all written in Omnian. Most were in the Omnian tongue, but others were apparently in the so-called “Fire Tongue,” the high dialect of the Fourth Order, and even a few appeared to be in the Onutian language.

The only possible explanation that came to Eloh’s mind was that these books were stolen, or that Jule had been seriously misrepresenting himself.

<-- Go to Part 40         Go to Part 42 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Progress on the reconstruction of the mill was moving along at an excellent pace. When Eloh had opened the waterways earlier in the day, sending a flood of water to the dormant wheel, its motion recommenced for the first time in two days. Eloh soon after put it to work, loading grain to grind beneath the heavy millstone. Repair was yet to be completed, since the walls and the floor of the structure still had to be repaired and considerable cleanup remained, but Eloh was able to reduce the work detail, putting much of the cloisters back to their regular assignments. And he made sure that his three suspects — Arrs, Sanda and Jule — were among those busy with work on the mill in order to keep them away from their rooms.

He visited Arrs’ room first. When he opened the door he was presented with a room of spare possessions. The hay-stuffed mattress, raised just above the floor by a small bed frame was covered only by the simple sheets the cloisters provided him. Beside the bed a canvas bag contained a few changes of clothes and intermixed between them were some tools of his farrier craft: some hammers, nails and horseshoes and sundry tools that Eloh didn’t recognize. Several candles lay across the low desk in the room, none of which had apparently been used. This itself seemed unusual, but it didn’t signify anything of importance. Otherwise, nothing suspicious was visible. He appeared to be a man of limited means and limited possessions. If he had set the mill on fire, there was no evidence to indicate so in his room.

Eloh visited Sanda’s room next. It was both more colorful and more aromatic than the previous. She had adorned her bed with brightly colored sheets, and draped fabric over her window. She had several pieces of jewelry which littered her desk and two framed portraits that hung on her wall, one of herself as a much younger woman, and one of a young male Eloh didn’t recognize. Unlike Arrs’, her room showed a wealth of possessions. She had a great many pieces of clothing, rich in color and expensive dyes. Since it was unlikely that a wealthy woman would decide to be a resident at the cloisters, she apparently used to be an affluent woman, or, perhaps, had been the beneficiary of a voluminous largess.

Buried deep within her bag, inside her clothes, Eloh found a small leather sack containing a green moss soaked in fermented berries, which he recognized as a soldier’s sponge. Next to it was a container of rouge made from concentrated beet juice, used to redden the cheeks and lips, and an eye shadow made from black charcoal. But none of what he found seemed at all suspicious.

In the third room he also failed to find anything that might further his investigation, but he did find something curious. Jule’s room looked the part of a weaver, decorated with a beautiful carpet on the floor and a great, woolen bedspread over the bed. A few of the smaller tools of his craft littered the room, such as threads, combs and shuttles. But when Eloh looked under the bed, he saw, concealed behind a bag, a cache of books, pushed against the wall in several short stacks. This was a very strange thing to find. Not only would it be surprising to meet a weaver who was literate, but also the cost of these books must have equaled the total earnings of an average weaver over several years. This was the library of a wealthy man. Eloh moved the bed aside, and picked up one book, a bound folio which appeared to be a medical text filled with illustrations of many plants and anatomical figures and annotation in the Omnian language. Looking at the handwritten lines, Eloh wondered how a weaver could afford a work that must have taken many full days worth of highly skilled labor to transcribe and illustrate. Even more surprising he noticed that the books were not all written in Omnian. Most were in the Omnian tongue, but others were apparently in the so-called “Fire Tongue,” the high dialect of the Fourth Order, and even a few appeared to be in the Onutian language.

The only possible explanation that came to Eloh’s mind was that these books were stolen, or that Jule had been seriously misrepresenting himself.

<-- Go to Part 40         Go to Part 42 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

Aresan Clan pt 41