Chapter 38
There is travel, and there is travel, friends. Back in the days before the Dragon Web brought its station all over the land, all travel was slow, laborious, and sometimes dangerous. Long caravans of horse and ass and gryphon and other beasts of burden had to be assembled, fed, harnessed and guarded and guided. Sometimes, wagons weren’t even usable, due to the landscape and condition of the roads. This made goods expensive and far more rare than they are today. People tended to stay where they were born. Only the brave few made their way to places of learning like the White Isle. A few Alder Branches would travel, slowly and painfully to what few towns there were to set up schools, a few Fireburners wandered the landscape, teaching what they could about making things while searching for secrets of the days before the Sundering. Ways were local – family and clan controlled the way people lived with a power that made it hard for people who didn’t agree with them. Merchants who dared travel the dangerous ways between communities, bringing rare goods, books, medicines and tools were hailed as heroes, and feted with great celebration whenever they showed up, and were pumped for all the news from other places, as were traveling musicians. To make things worse, neighboring communities who had a falling out with each other, often took to arms. And groups of armed bandits would attack villages, knowing it could take a while before the local nobles could send out a force to take care of them.
Nowadays, it’s true, people often have to take to horse or other animal to get from Dragon Web station to their destination, but the distance is much less. Prosperity has improved all across the land, as freight is easy to transport from place to place, and the King’s Guard has the means to get troops to trouble spots almost immediately. Moreover, people move everywhere across the Sunlit lands, encouraging the exchange of ideas and making life more interesting. Travel has always had benefits. Learning new things, finding out about different ways people deal with similar problems, trading, and just having more life experience makes so many things better. We become one people instead of clusters of tribes, clans and families.
Be glad for the world we live in, friends. But we wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for companies like Briarwood and Flysch. Just think of that the next time you go to the Dragon Web station to send a message or a package or take a trip!
From No-Space to Everywhere - Flysch Graben, cofounder of Briarwood and Flysch
Gweir Blackthorn, finally free from the encampment with Sael Havron and the troubles in the Borderlands, was tired. It had been a long ride from Waterford by Glint. He had started the afternoon before, and spent the night at Goblin Market so he could get home early in the day. He wanted it that way – there would have been no problem with him just taking the Dragon Web to Goblin Market and cut some of the time down, but he used the ride to make space between Havron and the Birch and the work he had been doing for the King’s Guard and the dirt required to protect Ynys Afel and this world he was coming home to. He hated to soil home with all that dirt.
The countryside, the little farming villages, the woods and the fields, the smells of the earth being worked, even the birds he startled as he road on helped both to remind him of what he was fighting for, and helped him to become more than Leader Second Rank Gweir Blackthorn of the Southern Contingent. It was working, he thought. By the time he left Goblin Market, people working in the fields waved at him as he passed. He even took the time to help a farmer get his wagon unstuck in a muddy part of the road. The last several months began to peel away in the clean air and green spaces and road dust.
“Let’s hope it’s enough,” he said as he neared the family estate.
He turned up the gravel drive that led to the main house. The road was lined with tall, older trees that had grown tall enough to mostly screen out the sky. He stopped for a moment, and looked up at the mostly green canopy with a small river of blue. Not for the first time, he thought it was almost a mirror of the river Glint he had followed to get here. After so many weeks in the barrens of the Boundary Lands and Havron’s training grounds, it felt almost odd to be surrounded by so much green that it felt a little strange, but comforting, like being covered by a soothing blanket.
“It’s bad when you forget what home feels like,” he said, “and I almost had. I hope…”
He left the thought unfinished, not wanting to jinx his future.
At the front of the house, the porter Restine Redbow, who had watched the front door of Allynswood since long before he had first married Elaine, hurried out of the house to meet him, a broad smile on his face.
“Lord Gweir!” he said, coming up to take the reins of the horse as Gweir dismounted. “We didn’t know you were coming home.”
Gweir put a finger to his lips. “On purpose. I want to surprise Elaine.”
“Last I heard, she was in her private garden, sir,” the old Bauchan porter said. “Something about cutting flowers for the table. You’ll need to ask in the house to be sure if she’s still there.” He looked over the horse, and the lack of saddle bags. “Is this all you brought with you home? A single backpack?”
“I had what I brought sent to the Dragon Web at Goblin Market. You’ll probably need to send someone. Unless something there has changed, their delivery service…”
“Is still incredibly slow,” the porter said, nodding. “I’ll get right on it, sir. So good to see you. Will you be with us long?”
“Only a week or two,” Gweir said, heading up the steps to the front door. “It’s just some time off for a job well done, but I’ll take it.”
“Such a shame,” the porter said, a comment unheard as he turned to take care of his lord’s horse.
Gweir looked at the ornate carved door, a heavy stained wood worked in vining designs running up the panels. “Home,” he said, turning the bright brass knob to let himself in. Edelkyn was adorning flowers for the foyer, and gasped as he walked in.
“Ssh,” he said, raising his finger to her lips before she could say anything.
She nodded and a broad smile danced across her face. “She’s working in her garden.”
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“Thank you, Edelkyn, he said, dropping a small pack on the floor. “Could you take this to my room?”
“Of course,” she said, leaving the flowers as they were and heading upstairs.
He took a deep breath. The air smelled of flowers, and lemon oil, food cooking in the kitchen, and the faint traces of all the people who worked in the building. Suddenly, an ache rose up in him, a longing for everything he was giving up, and he sighed, knowing it was going to be temporary. He shoved that twinge away, and decided to focus at what lay ahead as he walked through the house and out the door to the garden.
There, next to the rose bushes, he could see her head. Everything he had been feeling paled to what hit him then, hit him hard, seeing his wife working there, in an old stained work dress, with dirt marks on her knees and a smudge on her cheek. All that didn’t matter. She was a beacon calling him.
He walked as silently as he could, rounding the aisle of roses, until he was almost behind her. “Elaine,” he said softly.
Her eyes opened wide and she popped up immediately and spun around. “Gweir!” She dropped her garden basket, pulled off her dirty work gloves and threw herself at him, pinning herself to his chest and wrapping arms around her like she never wanted to let go. “Oh Gweir! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”
She hugged him close, and as his arms wrapped around her, he let the feel of her, the sound of her, even the sweet smell of her, woodsy with spice and citrus, touched by the flowers she had been working with, clean and of growing things, not death, wash over him.
Their lips met, gentle at first, and then their long unfulfilled hungers rose up, making the kiss much deeper than either had intended.
After a moment, Gweir pulled back, resting his hands on her shoulders.
“Well, I’m home now.” His voice was low and husky. “What are you going to do about it?”
She gave him that come-hither look that let him know he was going to have to work for his rest, but before she was able to say anything, their solitude was shattered.
“Da, Da, you’re back!”
Tam came running into the garden. “I saw Bob putting your horse away. You’re back! How long are you going to be back now? Are you staying? I have so much to show you!” He hugged his father around the waist.
Gweir sighed to let off the head of steam he had been building, but at the same time, he was pleased to see Tam. Tam, too, was one of the things he was fighting for.
“Whoa, whoa, son. Let me look at you, I swear you’ve grown half a head since I’ve been gone.” He tossled his son’s hair.
“He’s been growing like a weed,” Elaine said. “How long are you here for this time? You deserve to have a long break.”
“Eh,” he said, sighing. “It won’t be that long this time. I have to report back in two weeks.”
Elaine closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then looked back up at her husband. “Well, let us make this a holiday worth remembering, Gweir. I’m happy for what we can have.”
She picked up her garden basket, now full of flowers. “Here, Tam, take this to Edelkyn.”
Tam frowned. “Must I?”
“Yes you must. You can have your father later,” Elaine said, letting a little more of the smolder return to her eyes. “Your father and I need to have a talk. Ask Edelkyn for a snack if you get hungry, or you can go out and play.”
Not mollified, Tam took the basket and headed back into the house.
Once the young man was out of sight, Gweir pulled Elaine close. “Now where were we?”
“About to take the shortcut to my bedroom?” Elaine said.
“Sounds like a plan.” And with a quick kiss, they headed for the bedroom door.
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It was a sunny day in Sunderland. Haran stepped out of the Dragon Web carriage and looked around him. There were only a few other passengers in the carriage with him, all Daoine or Bauchan, with one Knocker for variation, and two Dragonkin since most Dragonkin didn’t really need to rely on the carriages unless they felt like putting on an impression or had too much luggage to deal with.
He looked around the room. It was much like any other Dragon Web station, except the posters advertising were pictures of Dragon Kin visiting exotic locations, not Daoine or other people. There were counters for freight and messages and tickets, a waiting room for people waiting for their turn to travel, and the usual sales people hawking the latest wonders B&F was allowing to be pushed at their stations.
A grayscaled Dragonkin in the uniform of the DIC stood there, with a sign with Haran’s name. Haran slung his pack over his shoulder and walked up to him.
“You were sent to wait for me?” Haran asked.
The young Dragonkin man nodded. “I’m Greenheart Greyscale, First Year DIC officer for the Sunderland Dragon Web station. You are Margani Haran?”
“Yes I am, fresh from the White Isle. You’re to escort me to Master Investigator?”
The young Dragonkin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wish. Closest they’ll let me get is to is the door of DIC Headquarters. But even that is closer than I usually get.” He gave the Jinn man a small smile. “The good stuff, I am told, comes later, after we stick it out our first year. I hope so. Do you have any bags to pick up?”
They retrieved his bags, and moved onto a hired coach. Outside, it was warm and sunny, with lots of rock and small patches of green growing in small gardens, but otherwise much less green and damp than the White Isle. Flowers that would not bloom there for at least a month bobbed their heads in the breeze. The streets were busy with Dragonkin going about their business, and only a small handful of other folk.
“So what do you think of Willowick so far?” Grayscale asked. “We don’t see that many people from Greenholt here. Most of them complain that it’s too noisy and too dry. I don’t get it. The river runs right through the middle of town and there are gardens everywhere! The grass on the mountains hasn’t even started to turn brown yet.”
“Reminds me of Harani. It looks a lot like this,” Haran said. “Lots of rock, and water in the rivers, but the ground dries out. And it’s warmer, almost all year round compared to the White Island.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Grayscale said. “There are a lot of Dragonkin there...between the minerals and the trade…”
“Oh, I know,” Haran said. “Lived there for most of my younger days. My dad worked at one of the trading houses there, Felspar and Company.”
“Ah,” Grayscale said. “One of my mother’s brother’s sons works for them. Bookkeeping, I think. Haven’t seen him in years though. He doesn’t seem to like it here in Sunderland. Then you have some experience being around Dragonkin?”
“Some. Not sure if the people at Felspar thought that much of my dad, though,” he shrugged. “Could be he was just unhappy with his work. Right before I came of age, he decided to move to Meridae. Lot of Dragonkin there, too, but they weren’t as crazy about mining there, and I think that made him happier.”
“Could be. People in Meridae have a different viewpoint on things. Maybe it’s because they’re closer to Sunderland.”
“Funny how things work out. My grandparents came from the Gray Lands, and I’ve never been there, and I ended up on the White Isle. Life has a way of surprising us sometimes.”
“That’s true,” Graystone said. The coach they were in came to a halt. He stuck his head out of the window. “Well, it looks like we’re here. It’s been pleasant talking with you, Margani Haran. If there’s anything a First Year DIC officer can do for you, even if it’s just pointing to eateries that won’t try to take your last gold for a bad meal, come and find me. Have a good assignment here.” He opened the coach door. “And if you get a chance, please put in a good word for me with with Master Investigator or his second Byrony.” He tried to laugh it off, but his eyes were pleading.
“If I get a chance,” Haran said, nodding.
The young Dragonkin stepped out of the coach and helped Haran with his pack and bag.
He got back in the coach. “Well, good luck on your assignment. And never forget the DIC slogan: We never stop investigating.”
With a final wave, the young man turned back and signaled to the driver to take off.
“First year officers must have it rough,” Haran said, picking up his bag.
“You have no idea.” A young blue scaled Dragonkin woman stepped out of the entryway. “Hi! My name’s Tansy, and they sent me out to help you get set up. I see they must be planning to give you a room inside. Of course, they wouldn’t think about housing you somewhere else.” Her blue ruff flared a little at the thought. “Well if you follow me, I’ll get you through the maze you’ll have to go through without getting lost. Do you like tea?”