Chapter 21

Shortly after the Sundering, it became clear that even after all the fighting between the Shadow Lands and the Sunlit Lands, that both sides needed things that only one side or the other could produce. The most important of these were put on official permitted trade lists. The negotiations were long and arduous, and didn’t fully satisfy the needs of either side. Jason Redbeard of the Bullrushes approached Queen Sulis with a proposal: allow the Bullrush Clan full autonomy in the lands surrounding the Borderlands near the portal of what would later be called Greshom’s Hold, and his people would control the comings and goings of all the goods going both directions. She agreed; soon this would allow for the development of a sanctioned black market that satisfied both realms. It also allowed for the gathering of intelligence that helped keep the peace. Everyone was content until the Breakout that attacked and wiped out the town of Brightwater. The most recent head of the Bullrushes, Jared Redbeard was suspected of cutting a deal with Queen Bercha, leader of the Wild Hunt that went sour and lead to the Breakout, but there was never enough evidence to prosecute.

A Brief History of the Borderlands, by Reban Greenshire of the Alder Branches

Umber Madrona, still smarting from the chewing out his boss had given him earlier in the day, was sitting outside in the shadows of the Dragon Web station, waiting for the next freight arrival. There were a couple of wagons waiting to pick up whatever was supposed to arrive on it, and three that were waiting to ship, but he had already checked their manifests and collected their fees, so for the moment, he had nothing to do but wait himself.

Picking at a small weed pushing through the pavement next to the building wall, he twirled it in his fingers. “No way I’m going to go sit in that office with Thornfield after he chewed me out after lunch. How did I know that woman with the undocumented Shadowlands vase was the Mayor’s wife? You transport one of those over the Dragon Web, you’re supposed to have the import papers with you. Even if you’re just taking it to the next town over. Those things are smuggled all the time! How was I supposed to know she had sent the papers ahead in a message pouch? Of course I confiscated it! That’s what the rules said to do! Uncle, why did you have me sent here to this Lifegiver-forsaken town?”

He rested his head against the stone wall and closed his eyes. So wrapped up in his personal unhappiness he didn’t hear the soft footsteps walking up towards him.

“Bad day?” said a soft female voice.

Umber sat up, opened his eyes, and tossed the weed he was still holding to the side. A blonde Daoine woman, her blue eyes looking at him with a gentle concern, half squatted next to him.

Umber covered his face with his hands, and took a deep breath. “You heard me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t feel too bad. I’ve done the same type of thing, and been caught while I was letting off steam, too.” Her smile was kind. Sticking her hand into a small bag, she pulled out a small wrapped sweet. “The last time someone found me like this, that someone handed me a sweet cake. I thought you might benefit from one as well. Take it. My mother made them last night to take with me on my trip. They’re my favorite, flavored with ginger and honey.”

Umber took it, and stared at the small packet for a moment, almost in a daze that someone was willing to be nice to him, then slowly stood up and faced the woman, who also stood up.

“You...you were traveling here?” Umber asked. “To Goblin Market?” His voice incredulous, as if shocked someone would actually choose to visit the town. “Why?”

Arriane giggled. “You’re Dragonkin. I bet you grew up somewhere rocky and dry.”

“Harani,” he admitted, nodding. “Before coming here, I had only been there and to Sunderland. It’s so different there. There’s not a lot of trees, and after the rains, the grasses go brown. There’s lots of rock formations, and mountains, really big mountains nearby. I didn’t know how I’d miss it when I joined the DIC.”

Arriane raised an eyebrow at the mention of DIC, but it didn’t stop her from talking. “As for the why I came here, my family owns a large estate nearby. I grew up there. Funny you mention Harani. My father is living in the Gray Mountains, at Bluestone Retreat. Mother tells me he’s writing a history book.” A shadow quickly moved over her face, to be quickly replaced by her welcoming smile.

“That is a pretty place,” Umber said, nodding. Then a thought struck him. “Ah, you wouldn’t happen to be one of the Allyns, would you?”

“Guilty as charged,” Arriane said, giving him a nod. “I just got here from the White Island. My sister Elaine is supposed to be picking me up, any time now. But I heard you talking, and had to see what was going on.”

“I feel pretty embarrassed about that,” Umber said, dropping his head to his chin. “It’s been a rough day. First assignments for DIC people are designed to train and wash out people.”

Arriane looked at his steadily for a moment. “You’ll make it,” she said. “I just have that feeling.”

Umber sighed. “I hope you’re right. There are times I’m not so sure.”

“Let’s move to the front,” Arriane said. “I need to keep an eye out for my sister.”

The two of them strolled around to the front of the station. There was still no sign of Arriane’s ride.

“I saw your sister here not long ago. She was with another woman, not a Daoine. They were talking with the mayor for a moment. I don’t know if I care for him.”

“Ah, that’s with Elaine’s friend Gan Thistleberry. She was moving onto the estate. I suspect she’s here by now.” Arriane watched a mother and child come out of the Dragon Web office. The child was hugging a large doll and tugging the Bauchan woman’s hand.

“Triss, calm down!” the woman said.

“But I want to show Daddy!” she said.

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The two walked off.

“She came through yesterday, I think. She was driving a well-packed ox cart.” Umber said.

“I remember my sister telling me something about Gan driving herself to her new place.” Arriane turned and looked at Umber thoughtfully once again. “You notice things, don’t you. And remember them.”

Umber shrugged. “DIC training, I guess. And I come from an investigator family. Might be something I come by naturally.”

“Sounds like a useful skill,” Arriane said.

“If I can tough it out this year.”

“Pay attention to what people are saying, not just what they’re doing or what they look like. You’ll learn all sorts of things that way.”

“Maybe you’re right. I’m still feeling out the difference between how they trained me and what the world really expects.”

“Me too!” Arriane said. “I want to know why it feels so hard sometimes. Why won’t the world let us be the people we want to be without fighting for it?”

“If I figure it out, I’ll tell you first,” the young dragonkin said.

A carriage drove up.

“That’s my ride,” the young woman said. “It was good talking with you, Umber. I hope your first year goes better from now on. I’ll try to drop by to say hello before I go home.”

She waved, and headed towards the carriage driven by the same red-headed young Bauchan that had been driving when Elaine and her friend had been here last. He returned her wave, and hearing the bell that announced the next freight carriage, he turned and went back to the freight door. Somehow, though, Umber felt more light and at peace than he had felt in a long time. It might have been the effect of Arriane’s Daoine magic, but he didn’t care. Unwrapping the little sweet she had given him, he bit down on the sweet gingery taste and went back to work.

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On Ynys Afel, in the great military compound that houses the King’s Guard and the other branches of the defensive forces, there is a special training field, only available to officers of high standing and the orderlies who care for the grounds and their officers. Surrounded by windowless walls, one section of the grounds is for sparing; another has training dummies and other gear. A small repair shop hugged one wall to take care of equipment issues, next to a small armory of gear to try out. At the other end of the field is a shooting range for both archery and spear, with dummies in the shape of persons, animals and traditional circle targets.

Usually there are a small group of privileged officers working out, surrounded by their attendants and sparring partners, tending to their gear, helping them with their equipment, sometimes cheering them on. This afternoon, there were only two. Their attendees, in full military dress, stood at a respectful distance, not just for safety, but to also be out of earshot.

The two of them stood facing each other, both wearing light chain armor, helmets, and holding sword and shield.

The taller of the two, angry-eyed, blond of hair and muscular of build, dressed in the green and brown colors of the regular King’s Guard,, gave a wicked smile to his sparring partner, shorter and darker of hair. “Had enough beat down for the day, Bedwyr?”

“I never claimed to be able to stand up to you in a one on one, Hawk. There are reasons you are leader of the King’s Guard and not me.” He walked over to a rack, and put up his practice sword and shield. “I only train to keep my skills up, and I train with you because you are better than me.”

Hawk gave him a nod of acknowledgment, put up his gear, then went over to a table, grabbed a towel to wipe down his face, and took a cup of water from the water jug there. “So now what?”

“Time for the bow, I think,” Bedwyr said. “Been a while since I saw how well you hit the target.”

Hawk rolled his eyes.

Together, the two men walked over to the archery range, picking up their gear from the table and rack. The orderlies carefully moved to their safety positions and waited for the men to begin.

“Which target shall we start with?” Hawk asked.

“Let’s just start with the round. It’s a good warmup.”

Putting on his arm guard and shooting glove, Hawk picked out a bow and quiver, strung the bow, then took his stance at the mark and carefully sighted the target. He released the bowstring and the arrow flew through the air to puncture the target with a solid thunk.

“Not bad, Gwalch,” Bedwyr said “Take another shot.”

The Hawk aimed again, and shot. This time he hit the bullseye.

“Your eye is as good as ever,” said Bedwyr, with a nod.

“Eye, hand or strength of arm, whichever it is, Bedwyr. Not my favorite weapon though. A real warrior fights close.”

“Easy enough for you to say, Hawk. We all know how you love your sword and shield. But sometimes that’s not the way to win. Sometimes it’s a word placed in the right ear, a knife in the right back.” Bedwyr lifted his own bow, and shot an arrow that split the Hawk’s arrow. “And sometimes it’s an arrow in the right throat.”

“Bah. No honor in that,” the Hawk said, frowning.

“It’s not about honor. It’s about preserving the peace, keeping the land hale and whole, keeping our enemies at bay. And sometimes, the right answer is an army filled with good men with swords, I won’t deny it.”

“That’s why The Bear and the Oldest put me in charge of the King’s Guard. And why they put you in charge of...well, whatever you want to call what you do.”

Bedwyr snorted. “I call it the King’s Special Services. I have heard it called other names. Birch’s Specters, among others.”

Hawk shot another arrow. It landed just to the right of his first shot. “I won’t say your people haven’t done right by Ynys Afel. I’m just too straightforward for your twisty-turny ways. I don’t even see some of the things coming that you’ve put in your reports.”

“The Life-giver has given us each our own gifts, Hawk. The troops would follow you to the Tower of Ru and swarm the Dark Queen herself for you.” He raised his bow, and landed an arrow to the left of Hawk’s first shot. “Note the pattern we’re shooting. You and me, covering the gap. I have your flank and you have mine. Together, we make a wall of protection. I think I’ve seen enough of your archery to know you can still handle it.”

Hawk looked at Birch, his eyes narrowing. “Is something up? You only talk this way when you’re tensing up about something on the edge of happening.”

“Eh,” Bedwyr shrugged. “There’s always something up.”

“But not something that makes you talk like this. I figured something was up after you commandeered men from my units to pump up yours. Are you finished with that? I’d really like to reinforce the troops at Greshold’s Keep if you’ve got worries, but I don’t want you to keep draining off my most promising young officers.”

“A good idea, Hawk. Greshold’s Keep is always on the very front of things.” Bedwyr hung up his bow on the rack provided, and began to take of his arm guard. “I think I have enough trainees with the latest batch. You can relax a bit.”

“Relax, you say. Watching you here today tells something in my gut it’s not time for relaxing. So you know something?” Hawk said, unstringing his bow. “Something not in the official reports? Something besides the uptick in smuggling?”

“Maybe. It’s not something I can put into a report yet. I know the Dragonkin are on edge about something. There’s a lot of chatter coming from that direction.”

“When aren’t they? When your whole people’s way of life is to cut each other’s throat for another handful of gold…” He looked up at Bedwyr, and studied the look the other gave him. “So it’s more than their usual?”

“I think so. I’m still sifting through the rumors. And Jared Redbeard has been feeding us more tips than normal.”

“What? That old bag of greed? Is he purging his stable of pet smugglers?” Hawk stripped off his shooting glove. “I know what he does is important, but I’ll never understand why the Bear tolerates him. If were up to me…”

“If it were up to you, we’d lose our one good channel to the Shadowlands. And we’d have to have endless rounds of negotiations to let through those things we just think aren’t worth the trouble. And we’d still have smuggling, and with no way to control any of it.”

“You’re probably right. Still glad it’s your headache and not mine.”

“Headache it is. Anyway, the Oldest has summoned me to a meeting tomorrow. Maybe I’ll learn more there. Maybe there’ll even be something you should know to get ready for.”

Hawk took a deep breath. “I hate all this shadowy stuff. Let me know when you have something you can actually tell me.” He gave him a small wave. “Thanks for the workout. Until I hear from you.”

He headed out of the training grounds.