The town of Verdu had a dozen long-houses in several clusters instead of the usual three or four and a stone wall in place of a palisade. A large area enclosed by a low stone fence was bright with tents and booths, with a row of wagons and carts parked neatly along one side. The road to the main gate ran along one edge of the fair, and the party could look down avenues thronged with merchants and customers, but their first business was in the town. The messenger sent ahead by the Captain-Elder met them at the gate and guided them to their lodgings – a single, if large, room on the second floor of a longhouse. They did not complain, as the town was clearly crowded with fair-goers. The porters from Near Little Basket-Rush Lake deposited their cloth-shrouded burdens along one wall, were paid handsomely and disappeared eagerly towards the fair.
“What do we do first?” Aitonala asked. “And do we need to have someone here all the time?” She gestured at the bundles against the wall with a hand restored to normal. Her talons had dropped off two days previously, to her relief and that of her companions. All bore minor scars from unthinking contact, and she had incautiously scratched herself deeply more than once.
“First,” Rakt answered, “we eat. I think this place is safe enough.”
Verdu was the largest Saka town all but Doryid had seen and they looked around curiously. The long-houses rose above them, each three stories high with roof-beams ending in a profusion of carving. At street level, a riot of carved and painted wood distracted the eye. Saka in bright clothes made up most of the crowd jostling one another on the brick paving but the fair had drawn folk from far afield – merchants up from Dtlag, a very few blonde Brahnaks, two tall black men in feather cloaks from Dravishi, presumably up from the Corillion Coast, a group draped in muted brown and black silks whom Grymwer identified as from the northern kingdom of Hadawa. They found a restaurant where they could sit under an awning adjacent to the street and watched the passing show over chewy bread, nut butter and skewers hot from the grill, washed down with tangy white ale.
After lunch they set about their agreed tasks. Doryid and Cardnial were to explore ways to recall Kosohona and Rakt would buy supplies. Chrys, Aitonala and Grymwer made their way to the fair after a quick visit to their lodgings. After a short wait they passed through the crowded town gate, shuffled slowly along the almost as crowded road outside and turned into the fairground. They kept a wary hand on their purses as they slowly threaded through the narrow alleys. On all sides merchants cried their wares, pedlars called from behind their trays and musicians and singers competed with priests for the patronage of the public. Members of the public of all ages added their own cries, shouts and shrieks.
Aitonala had stopped at the entrance to ask directions and now led, with some hesitations, away from the centre into a quieter area. Here the booths were more solidly constructed, with here and there a permanent structure of brick or stone. Money-changers, jewellers, purveyors of silks and other luxuries sat quietly, confident their clients would come to them. An inquiry directed them down a narrow lane, to a square building of neat stone. Aitonala halted outside, clapped twice and waited. When a deep voice called “Enter, please” in accented Saka she pushed open the heavy door and led the others in.
Chrys and Grymwer had readily agreed to let Aitonala take the lead. She had given them a brief outline of what she knew.
“We are calling on the senior dwarf at the fair. I only know the basics: dwarves prefer to come straight to the point in dealing with humans and do not use elaborate forms of address with us. I will be clear that we were working for the High Councils, as then any fault attaches to them rather than us. Not that I think they will hold us at fault.”
Within it was cool, the air free of the dust of the fair. Glowstones held by elaborate silver tracery illuminated steps down into a space divided by a low bench. At the back another heavy door was closed. Behind the bench stood a dwarf, plainly dressed, the only ornament a silver badge on the chest. Aitonala bowed, forearms crossed, hands at her shoulders. The dwarf looked at her, not speaking. Aitonala went straight to the point.
“We have come to return some things that belong to your people.”
Grymwer stepped forward and laid the war-hammers and armour on the bench. The dwarf picked up each hammer in turn and looked at the marks.
“They are of our people, of a sister-hold to mine. I had heard they were missing. How come you by them?”
“We were contracted by the High Councils to deal with an awakened Shade, somewhat north and east of here. Two of your folk and three of ours had fallen under the Shade’s will. We freed them into death, and laid the Shade.”
“That was well done.” The dwarf bowed slightly. “I would hear the full story. May I buy you a drink, at no obligation? My open name is Ferrzhe Jiaghin.
“We would be pleased to accept.”
“There is a place opposite and three doors to your right. I will join you there very shortly.”
Ferrzhe Jiaghin’s place was an awning over a small number of tables in front of a booth of fitted timbers. It was too soon after lunch for more beer, so the three ordered a pot of liani, an infusion the Saka drank almost as much as water. When Ferrzhe Jiaghin joined them he raised a finger for another mug.
“So. Tell us of the Shade.”
Aitonala gave a succinct account both of the encounters with the Shade and of her abduction. The latter she told of in a carefully neutral voice, which did not deceive Ferrzhe Jiaghin. His eyes darkened and he stroked his beard in approval at the end of the tale. There followed some questions on the location of the tomb, then the dwarf laid thick hands on the table.
“Should matters be as you say in regard to the Hidden Servants, then I believe we have a cause of action in that they awakened the Shade and so caused the enslavement and death of two of our people. I will put a case to the judges that they be summoned.” Aitonala restrained a smirk of glee at this news. Ferrzhe Jiaghin went on “The things of value from the tomb, would you be prepared to let me see them? It might be I could assist in finding a buyer, or at least offer an opinion on their worth.” They looked at each other, and Chrys gave a decisive nod.
* * * *
Ferrzhe Jiaghin came to their lodgings an hour before sunset with another dwarf. His companion was introduced as Hels Zansine, knowledgeable on history and antiques. The two examined the relics with care while the party watched. Hels Zansine provided a running commentary in heavily accented Saka.
“This model gives us the best baseline. See this mark here – it is the cartouche of Hmurung, fourth ruler of the state of Harz Hai. He was the last but one, as the land turned against Harz Hai under his successor. The survivors fled to the north-west. Hmurung was a great builder. The Shade may have been Hmurung himself, or more probably a chief architect of his time. His buildings oppressed the land, and he did not heed the warnings.”
“I have never heard of Harz Hai,” said Doryid.
“They fell nine hundred years ago, and the forest swallowed their cities. The Saka came to this area three hundred years later. Our holds were there when they rose and there when they fell, and are there still. Let us look at the other items. See, on this level, this writing? It is an abbreviated name. I would have to consult our records for likely matches. This siting tube has the same abbreviation. I would date this model here somewhat earlier on stylistic grounds.” Hels Zansine rambled on as he scrutinised piece after piece.
At last Ferrzhe Jiaghin made an offer. “Silver of this quality that has been so long kept under etheric control is rare and much valued. The prospective buyers are therefore few. If you will permit, I will take it into keeping and invite offers. If the buyers are not of my people, my fee will be one tenth; if they are, then one twentieth. I will communicate the best offer, which you are free to accept or reject. If there is no sale after six months, then the items will be delivered to Dtlag or any other convenient place, at the expense of carriage only.”
After a short discussion of details this was agreed and the dwarves left. Rakt had ordered food, and the party sat around scooping spiced meat and vegetables from two large dishes with pieces of flat bread as they talked over other matters. Their gear, Rakt said, would not be ready for another two days. Doryid and Cardnial had made inquiries with several Practice associations and then visited the House of Justice.
“The quarter sessions have just concluded,” Doryid explained. “Among those sentenced to be sold into exile is a woman named Hassani. She was an Aspirant of the Falling Leaves but expelled for repeated misconduct. We might buy her and conduct the exchange with Kosohona beyond Saka lands.”
Aitonala frowned. “She is sentenced to exile, not death. What were her crimes?”
Doryid glanced at a paper. “Aggravated contumely, repeated flagrant disrespect, fifteen counts of contempt of council, thirty-four counts of disturbance, and corruption of a minor.”
“Corruption of a minor sounds serious,” commented Grymwer.
“She slipped a boy a silver leaf to drop a bag of cow shit from the roof of the Order House onto her Captain.”
“And the rest?” asked Chrys.
“She sat in the Long-house senior elder’s place and refused to move, mooned the town council through a window, sent obscene objects to several persons, pointed her feet at the judge …the list goes on like that. And on. She seems to have a problem with authority.”
“All the same, I won’t be party to killing her,” said Chrys firmly.
“Nor I,” added Aitonala.
“Being sold into exile can well be a death sentence,” said Doryid. “Once she is taken beyond Saka lands, the only restrictions on the buyer are under local laws, and many impose few or no restrictions.”
“What if we offer her a deal?” put in Cardnial. “We buy her, put her soul in the jar and Kosohona into her body, and take her with us on the promise that we’ll find her a body in some other country.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“How are we going to find her another body without the same problem?” asked Chrys.
“It may take a while, and she has to take the chance we die or her jar gets stolen, but sooner or later we’ll have a spare dead body. We haven’t been short of them so far.”
* * * *
Saka punishments did not include prison. Those detained after sentencing were kept in the basement of one of the gate-towers. Chrys, Doryid and Cardnial descended the stairs behind the warder, were ushered through a stout door and asked to wait. Chrys looked around. The place was bare and lacked windows but was not bleak. It was clean, well-lit and furnished with nothing more threatening than an oak table, a bench and a chair. After a short wait, the warder re-appeared, towing a young woman in an unflattering yellow garment. The woman was plonked into the chair and the warden took station behind. The three sat down on the bench opposite.
The young woman sneered. “Come to perv? I’d show you my bum if prune-face here would let me up. Not that it would outshine yours.”
Chrys spoke first. “We have a proposal for you.”
“Shove it into a sausage.”
“It is in your interest to listen,” put in Doryid. “You are up for sale tomorrow, and several parties have expressed interest. You could end up in the Brahnzhever, at the disposition of some Brahnak landowner. Saka slaves are something of an obsession with them, so there’s a good profit in re-sale. There’s a pimp on the list who has a career in mind for you, and there’s a few places where there’s a market in body-parts.”
“And you lot would give me a purse and let me go? Suck the other one.”
“No. We would give you a new start,” said Chrys evenly. “In a new land, in a new body.”
That got Hassani’s attention. “A new land sounds good. Better than this dung-heap. What’s this about a new body? I’m not keen on that,” she added, “as this one is pretty good – great bum, nice tits, good hair.”
“You would get to approve any new body before we transferred you,” promised Cardnial. Chrys gave him an irritated glance.
“We have a comrade whose soul is in a jar,” Chrys went on. “She needs a body. We transfer your soul into the jar, her into your body. Then we take you with us and put you into a new body when we find one you approve.”
“You can do all that? Who are you? And why should I trust you not to flush me into the dark when it suits you? Or just leave me on a back shelf until someone mistakes the jar for something to piss in? I’m looking at some foreign pretty-boy, a bitch with a face like an old cheese and a three-faced prick.”
“I am a magician, and I command the necessary spells. For the rest, you will have to take my word for it. Our company includes a member of the Guild of Select Services, who are sworn to protect women. She will take an oath to do her best to carry out our contract. Doryid here will promise likewise, I am sure.”
“So how long would I have to hang around in a bloody jar? Sounds even more boring than Verdu.”
Chrys smiled slightly. “I don’t know. You’ll get to see new places, but you’re going to do that anyway. This way, you might enjoy the experience. I can’t set a time, but we’ll try to keep it as short as possible.”
Hassani considered. “You’re renting my body, right? If I rented it to pretty-boy here, I’d get a silver leaf for half an hour. If he lasted that long. I don’t want to be dumped in some foreign mud-hole where I have to flog my arse to survive. You gotta pay me.”
Chrys leaned forward. “Listen, potty-mouth, I don’t have to do this. I can walk off, you go on the block and your arse will be flogged to all comers – or worse - for no money at all. So cut the crap. Yes, we’ll give you a stake when we leave you. But that’s because we’re nice people. Don’t push it.”
“Alright, keep your legs crossed. Hey, I just thought – is this legal? And what if you’re outbid?”
Doryid shook his head. “You wouldn’t want to do anything illegal, right? I checked with the council lawyers. Your soul counts as you, legally. So long as we take the jar out of Saka lands within the allotted time, we’re good. And Saka and allied nation bidders get preference in the bidding.”
Hassani pouted sulkily, then slammed her hands down on the table. The warder laid a restraining hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off impatiently.
“I’ll do it, but if you betray me, I’ll haunt you all to your graves and beyond.”
* * * *
The court auction was thinly attended. Only three criminals were being sold into exile, one of them an elderly and unrepentant recidivist, another a notorious wife-beater. Two merchants up from Dtlag glanced at Doryid’s face-marks and did not bid for Hassani. A thickset caravan master ran the bidding up to two hundred and eighty silver leaves and then dropped out. The agent Chrys had labelled a pimp lasted longest, but refused to top Doryid’s final bid of three hundred and forty silver leaves. Doryid paid the money, received a stamped document and was cautioned that he would be responsible for Hassani’s actions. With this in mind, Doryid thought it prudent to bring Rakt, some rope, a soft gag and a bag when he collected his new property. Hassani’s very vocal outrage was quickly muffled, Rakt slung her over his shoulder and they strolled across to the room Chrys had rented at the Hall of Health and Welfare.
Chrys removed the bag and gag, untied Hassani’s hands, allowed the stream of profanities to flow unchecked for a full minute and then held up a hand. “That’s enough for now. You can call us more names later. This room is soundproof, by the way. Grymwer here will cast a spell on you, and then I will cast another to draw your soul out. There is some chance the spell will not take, in which case you will be in severe pain for a little time. If the spell takes, I will transfer you to this jar here. Custodian Breviam loka Psaidis will assist us in transferring our comrade to your body. Aitonala of the Guild of Select Services will witness, and promises to do her best to see you restored to a body as soon as feasible. Do you need anything before we begin?”
“Your comrade is going to need to pee really badly. By the way, it’s not a man is it, ‘cause that would be creepy.”
“No. There are facilities behind the screen. Aitonala will assist you.”
The casting went smoothly, although Hassani’s soul baulked at the jar and had to be forced in. Chrys closed the lid tightly, then turned to the body lying on the floor. Aitonala noted that breathing and pulse were regular, so Chrys took a moment to stretch her tired arms and shoulders. Grymwer stood with head cocked.
“I can hear Hassani, faintly, like a nearby ghost.”
“What’s she saying?”
“Complaining about the jar. Also, the spell hurt. She swears she’s going to add that to the bill. And she’s getting very graphic about the body she wants.” He grimaced. “It’s going to be a tedious time if I have to listen to her day and night.”
The body stirred, opened eyes, looked puzzled.
“Me’etim na? Me’adin xu?” It looked down, blinked, lifted hands to breasts, looked puzzled, sat up.
The party looked at each other. “That’s Corillionese. Did Kosohona speak Corillionese?” asked Cardnial.
Chrys knelt down. “Kosohona! Kosohona loki Daod! This is Chrysanthemum, and here are Aitonala, Doryid, Rakt, Grymwer, Cardnial. We have given you a new body.”
Kosohona stared around with dawning recognition, then burst into tears and flung her arms around Chrys.
According to Kosohona, being dead was nothing special. “The bolt scrambled my brain before I had time to feel anything. Being drawn away from the body hurt, and the jar was cool and somehow comforting. At first it felt like I was talking to someone, but then that faded. Why are you all looking concerned?”
“Because, Kosohona dear, you’re talking in this mix of Saka and Corillionese. You didn’t use to speak Corillionese,” Chrys told her gently.
“Asan nai da? Err, didn’t I?”
They sat for a time talking quietly in Saka, then Aitonala took Kosohona off to the baths. Hassani had not left her body in the cleanest condition.
* * * *
Kosohona wanted to establish her credentials with her order as soon as possible, so Doryid and Chrys accompanied her to the Autumn Hall the next but one morning. Chrys noticed startled looks and sudden detours. One woman came to the front of her shop to glare, hands on hips, as they passed. Kosohona sometimes flinched at the overt hostility, sometimes seemed more confused. Chrys noticed oddities in speech and movement and glimpses of new knowledge. She paused by some Practitioners assisting with street repairs and commented on the intonations used in their spell-work, stopped again briefly to scrutinise a stone pillar spelled to limit the spread of fire.
“I think,” said Chrys later to Cardnial “that Kosohona’s jar was not quite empty. She has at least two new languages, one of them Dzai, and occasionally tries to move more like a man. My guess is she has a bit of magician in her now. Also, unless she wants to wear an apron with “I am not Hassani” embroidered on it, I don’t think she can stay here.”
“We could ask Hassani if there is any residue in the jar.”
“If there was, it’s certainly fled by now.”
It took some argument and much scrutiny of papers before they were admitted to the hall. Once inside, two captains took charge of Kosohona, asking Chrys and Doryid to return that afternoon. When they did a senior captain took them aside.
“Kosohona loki Daod has advanced remarkably in your company, and would normally qualify for the Third Leaf easily. But I have to say that this change of body has given her some problems. Her alignment with the ether is currently unstable, her attunement to her focal weapon is weak and elements of word-magic intrude into her spell-work. All these things can be remedied, but we do not believe she should be exposed to danger at this time.”
Chrys was not going to take her friend into the Wild if she could not meet its challenges. She looked at Doryid, who gave a tiny shake of the head.
“Do you know how long it will be before she is fully capable again?”
“I can’t say for certain, but at least three months. Also, she cannot stay in Verdu.”
They could not stay so long. They had saved Kosohona from death, but lost her to the party. It was a bitter blow, but there was nothing to do but go on with the least hurt to Kosohona they could manage. She came back to their lodgings and tried to keep up a brave face, but was clearly as downcast as they all were. She fell asleep with Chrys’ arm around her, and made a sad breakfast. When they parted at the Autumn Hall the next day it was with tears and many promises of eventual reunion.
* * * *
It took another three days to organise departure from Verdu. Aitonala and Doryid had to report to their orders, the dwarves crate and store the tomb treasures, gear refurbished, armour modified, banking and communication arranged and, most of all, a direction decided. No-one wanted to return to Dtlag. South was settled Saka territory and beyond that the Brahnzhever. Neither offered riches and, in any event, they were bound to remove Hassani from Saka lands within thirteen days of her purchase. Chrys’ aim was still to secure enough money to establish herself independently. Wandering the Eig Wild without any definite aim seemed unlikely to yield anything.
In the end they decided to go north with Hassani and then west. It was the quickest way out of Saka lands and they could see what offered on the Corillion coast or perhaps overseas in Dravishi. Then, the day before they were to leave, Doryid came in with a long face.
“More bad news. The Three Faces requires me in the south.”
“What! How can they do that? They just gave you your third stripe,” demanded Rakt.
“The turmoil in the Brahnzhever is spilling over – not war, but raids, refugees, sometimes fighting on our soil. They want experienced people down there, and those are my orders.”
It was another loss of a friend and valued companion, one whose many skills had saved them more than once. They felt the loss personally, but it also affected their situation as a group. It meant going into the Wild only five strong, and three of those magicians. The prospects for recruiting someone in Verdu were not promising, they were still bound to leave Saka lands and, with unknown enemies out there, staying was risky. A dwarvish summons was a fearsome thing but they could not await the outcome, and the Hidden Servants were, Chrys reflected, well-hidden.
They went out to dinner that night and drank to Doryid’s health and safety, then exchanged tokens of remembrance in the morning. Doryid came to the town gate to see them off, then turned to march towards the chapter house.