I'd like to say that I was a big part in what followed, but it would be a lie. In fact, for the next few days I was blessedly forgotten by most, although with Mel laid up I now had to be acting portmaster alone without guidance. I'd think I did okay; over the next three days, two ships came in to port, and I took their information and squeezed the trade taxes from them down to the last copper, mostly using Mel's name and reputation and suggesting that she would have my hide if I didn't. There was one squabble where a drunk sailor had to be forcibly returned to his ship, but the town guard oversaw that, and I just stood there trying to look officious and disapproving.

I don't know how it happened, but it seemed like Bard managed to wrangle many of the refugees--male and female--into what I assumed was the conscripted military force that would be departing come Winter--or Fall, if Manne's documents were right. That was nowhere near enough; the requst had been for a company plus a squad, and from what I could see of their practices on the beach, a squad in this country was ten people plus a squad leader. I was never a military man, but I knew a Company had to be a decent number of squads, and the refugees and other volunteers made up less than two. It also didn't help that I had no idea what "auxilliaries" were, which would be that spare squad.

In any event, the recruits were being run though basic training, and as that likely came with food and a safe place to sleep for the forseeable future, the majority of them couldn't refuse. People who were injured sat in on lectures and did what they could, but the ones that had been more or less intact, just maybe malnourished or whatever, they exercised and practiced weapon drills.

At the end of those three days, though, Mel swept back through the town like a wildfire. It wasn't hard to see that she hated being laid up, and she made multiple efforts to talk to everyone about the situation. I wasn't the first she came to; I'd seen her stomping back and forth across the town throughout the morning--but she got me done relatively quickly.

"Thank you for taking care of things while I was out," she said sternly, "and I hear you calmed things down with the Selmonts. Good work." She paused. "I've gotten word back that the Weavers would prefer someone from a major trade house to take over as portmaster. The leadership of my clan is already debating about who to send, but you will likely be relieved within two weeks. After that... most likely Bard will find work for you if nobody else will. With your skill with numbers, you should do fine looking after the logistics of the Company."

I... honestly had never expected that offer, but it made enough sense. Payroll, if nothing else, would be easier for me to handle than most, since nobody here seemed to be able to multiply worth a damn, in their heads or on paper. I was willing to bet they didn't teach long division out here, either. I considered asking Mel permission to give lessons, but decided to wait and see what my schedule was like once I was relieved. Mostly, I guess, I was just shy about starting new commitments when I had no idea what was going on.

On the topic of new commitments, though, I just had to ask Mel where she had learned to fight. Although she clearly had more to do with her day, she stopped and gave me a nasty-looking grin. "I learned Wind Arts from the Clan many years ago. I've picked up little bits of other things from martial artists that pass through, but all I can really use to fight are the Stillness Arts." She gave a half-shrug and offered over her shoulder as she walked away, "I'll be giving basic lessons to the recruits, so if you want to learn more, talk to Bard."

That was both interesting to learn and also a massive tease. I had done some self-defense lessons in my past life, but I'd already forgotten all of it, and honestly, "Wind arts" sounds a lot more interesting than karate. I mean, this was a world with magic--I had some real hope that the name wasn't just there for decoration. As for what "Stillness arts" meant... I didn't know, but I had seen Mel drop an axe kick on a shipwright and dislocate the shoulder of a taller man with a kick. Whatever she was using, it wasn't nothing.

In any event, once Mel was back on her feet, I considered going back to talk to Lucile. I really very unsure of what our relationship was now, and I'd figured that putting some distance between us after the event would make it easier to apologize.

But when I finally did come by, I found that Nency wouldn't let me see her. That woman was cold as ice around me, and would be for a long time to come, I suspected, but I asked her politely to pass along an apology and a request to talk when she was free. I half-expected her to refuse, but she was professional enough to pass the word along, at least.

So I did, finally, see Lucile the next afternoon down at the docks. She looked... a lot older, really. It wasn't the haggard look that she had when she had been spending energy; instead it seemed more like she hadn't been sleeping well, and been faced with one stressful task after another. Considering the circumstances, that was all likely true.

The two of us sat on the bench outside the Portmaster's building and I felt conflicted about what to ask first.

"Can we talk about godly topics?" My senses said nobody was close, but that could always change. "If not, there are other things..."

"Not now." Lucile's voice was rough. She sounded older, not just looking. "You've cost me enough, Ryan of Terra. Believe me, covering up what happened is about the limit of my ability right now."

That... made me feel awful. I took a deep breath and tried to focus my thoughts. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not sure I want your help," she said bitterly.

I sighed, then looked out to sea. "What... even happened--"

"Exactly what you think happened. You would know, oh mighty God of Eyes," she snarled. "You earned what you took, but it cost us all a pretty penny. And--no." She shook her head. "Not gonna talk about it."

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I would know? I took a minute to look at her, just to look. In addition to the stress, I felt... like some of the soulflame she had used up recently was making her sick. The green flame, I thought; it was born of hatred for a god, so even though it made her stronger, it would corrupt her a little bit at a time. I didn't like that thought... but it also made a certain sense. Xenma had said it "couldn't be given away", so it would likely not become Gold Flame. Even if she had accidentally given away all the rest, that would be left over...

I sighed and looked away. "I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't," she interrupted immediately. "If I thought you'd done it on purpose I would have thrown you out on your ass, or killed you in your sleep. Believe me, I don't have it as bad as my father or that other bastard do." She paused. "You probably just about killed that one, you know? People from Terra don't produce much flame, and he can't do miracles, so he can't earn much, either."

I didn't know, but I didn't feel bad about it, and I said so. Lucile gave an un-ladlylike snort and rolled her eyes, but it just made me smile. I did like her. I hoped this wasn't going to drive a wedge between us... not in the long term, at least.

"Anyway, my father is ugly because he--" she paused, and I noticed there were shipworkers getting closer, some I could tell wanted to eavesdrop, so I gave Lucile a serious look and a small headshake and she changed topics immediately. "You... said you had some magic talent," she said suddenly, "I notice you didn't take any of the books with you. I can give you some of the books on the basics, but I do expect them back, in good condition."

I raised my eyes. That... was definitely one of the things I wanted to ask, but I was surprised she jumped into it that easily. "That would be a great help," I said simply. "Mel was suggesting that I would be replaced here soon, and might end up with the military unit that Bard is putting together..."

Lucile snapped her head to look at me, surprised by that fact.

"... so I was also curious if you had anything about the Martial Arts. Not that I can teach myself, more... background. You know how little I know about these things."

"...yes. Actually, we have some manuals, though mostly only one copy of each. A lot of the teaching is oral tradition, but they all appreciate study materials, and they are willing to pay us to make copies. Again, I don't mind you borrowing them, so long as they are returned. And, as for a more general history, I have a book or two that might help with that."

We received enough attention from passing shipwrights that we didn't get to talk about godly topics for the rest of her stay, which was only about an hour, but my impression was that she wasn't really all that angry at me. I resolved to try to donate some flame back to her, since I had an excess and she was definitely very helpful.

I ended up doing that in the evening, when things had quieted down. I wasn't exactly calibrated on her schedule, but when I figured she has probably gone to bed, I laid down myself and concentrated on showing up in her Little Gods' Room with a sizeable offering.

I was surprised to find when I showed up that I wasn't alone. Although the majority of the people I saw outside her Temple were blind and deaf, it was a small lake of people, and many were walking forward to ask for guidance, their eyes half-open, just barely able to see what was to me clear as day.

Alanna stood at the steps of her temple, weeding through the prayers of the day. As I watched, small threads of light connected to many of those who were walking foreward, and most of their eyes closed, and they bowed and vanished, leaving behind bits of flame. I had... the disturbing realization that I could probably steal those flames while I was here, but of course I had no reason to try.

When Alanna's eyes fell on me, I could tell that this was not a conscious part of Lucile. I felt a strange wordless request, and deciding that I didn't need to force the issue, I simply offered the flame I had intended to offer, and backed out. She definitely looked busy, and Lucile had looked haggard enough that I didn't want to press her.

In the morning, I found myself looking at my reflection in a window. I already knew that my face had changed a lot since I arrived, but when I compared it to the haggard look Lucile now had I couldn't help but worry. She had kept up a front of being a very attractive young woman, but yesterday she seemed to have aged a good ten, fifteen years. How old was Alanna, anyway? She had said that Nency was a problem she had created when she was younger, but that book about Xerana and Xenma had been old--centuries old. Was Nency immortal, following her goddess around? If so, how could she possibly disguise it, especially with Nency being a cripple--and from what Alanna said, incurably so? None of this made any sense to me.

Lucile was waiting for me at work, with a small stack of books, and I thanked her graciously but couldn't spare the time to talk. Mel was talking ...energetically, with the foreman of the shipwrights, and as soon as she saw me, she called and gestured for me to come down.

As it turned out, the shipwright, no surprise, wanted more money and more time. Mel was leaning towards giving them more time, and I could see the smugness in the foreman that told me he was about to get away with something.

I pushed gently with my power, trying to give me just a bit of insight. I felt that it might have made my eyes glow, but since I was pretending to be my own priest--or at least follower--I figured I could explain that away. It only took a moment of analysis to know that the extra time was only needed because they had skipped work as much as possible.

I had caught them at that before, but hadn't been paying as much attention as I should have been, so I didn't have a lot of evidence to support it. Thankfully, my Eyes let me go back over what I had seen and analyze it again as though for the first time. So I regarded the foreman--Curtiss was his name, right?--with a level gaze and started listing off offenses.

"As I recall, Mr. Stormwall, you spent much of yesterday afternoon napping in the shade of the ship while two of your men..." I glanced around, pointing the two out, quickly, "those two, threw a sledge hammer back and forth in some kind of game. In fact, I only remember one person doing any work at all..."

Curtiss snarled at me. "Nothin' of the sort happened, Mayor, on my honor," he said.

I gestured for Mel to follow and quickly found a spot where the sands had been disturbed, pointing it out effortlessly. "Here. See these tracks, going 'round in circles, and the other set over here, doing the same thing... and here, this impact spot, sure looks like something heavy did that, don't you think?"

"That was... just an isolated bit of fun..."

"You know, Mel, I think that spot over there has the same sort of tracks on it, don't you? Let's go look..."

By the time I got back to my post, Mel had fined the shipwrights a hundred gold for lying and promised another penalty if they didn't get the work done in the next few days. I had expected her to be mad at me for not reporting things, but she seemed to have a manic glee at being able to punish Curtiss and his layabouts. The thought that they were lazy struck me as odd, since I knew I'd seem them hard at work several times; perhaps they just fell apart when nobody was on their case. I'd seen plenty of people like that on Earth.

In any case, Mel wasn't mad at me, Lucile wasn't mad at me, there wasn't a lot of work waiting for me, and I had a pile of books to read. As far as I was concerned, that all added up to a good morning.