The Eighth Warden Book 3Chapter 16
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“Lanport isn’t as big as I thought it’d be,” Katrin said as they approached the city.
“It’s supposed to be larger than High Cove,” Corec said. “I think it’s just spread out farther along the coast, so we can’t see it all from here.”
The trip north from High Cove had been uneventful, other than the weather continuing to worsen. The light snow that had fallen the night before had melted, leaving the road muddy, and Katrin was looking forward to reaching the city and getting a hot bath.
It took them another hour to get to the city itself, but even as the North Road turned into the main street leading through town, it stayed a muddy mess, without the granite pavers which were common in other large cities. Wooden walkways lined the buildings to either side, so foot traffic could avoid the mud.
“Why do they leave the streets like this?” Katrin asked.
Corec said, “The caravan guards who work the Lanport run say the government here doesn’t do much. They don’t do anything about bandits, so the caravans get attacked sometimes. There are pirates, too, when the traders come by ship.” Then he laughed. “I was supposed to come here once on a ship, but I got too sick, so they put me off in High Cove. I didn’t even get paid for the first half of the trip.”
“Bandits and pirates?”
“We should be fine,” Corec said. “Most of them aren’t stupid enough to attack two men in plate armor, and even if they are, they’ll be scared off when Ellerie starts burning holes in them.”
“Unless they’re those red-eyed men. They don’t seem scared by anything.”
Corec nodded. “I wish I knew where they came from. The West Road to south of Circle Bay ... I can’t figure out who they’re working for in that area. Terril Forest is between there, but I doubt the red-eyes are being sent by the elves.”
As they drew closer to the city center, Katrin heard a mournful tune being played on a gittern. She could just barely make out the lyrics, sung in a woman’s voice. Listening to the words, she saw the same scene in her mind, the lament of a soldier who’d survived a terrible battle.
“That’s a bard!” Katrin exclaimed. She’d never met another female bard before. “Let’s go that way.”
“I’ll come with you,” Corec said, and motioned to the others to go ahead without them.
Katrin followed the sound of the music to a park-like square near a busy street filled with vendors. She brought Flower to a halt and dismounted behind a ring of people who stood around the singing woman. The bard was stocky, approaching her middle years, and her brown hair was starting to go gray. Instead of the fancy clothing typically worn by bards during a public performance, the woman wore a plain, sturdy dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place on any other street musician.
Corec joined Katrin after wrapping Flower’s and Dot’s reins around a nearby hitching post. They stood with the rest of the crowd and listened until the song was over, then Katrin made her way through the ring and dropped a coin in the wooden bowl the bard had set out in front of herself.
The listeners thinned out during the next song, but Katrin remained, closing her eyes as she sensed the bard’s deft touch in crafting the illusory visions.
She spoke quietly to Corec. “I’m going to stay here for a while if you want to go look for the others. I have a lot of questions I’m hoping she can answer.”
“All right,” he said. “I guess you know how to find us.”
Katrin nodded. She could track him down through the warden bond, the same way he’d be able to catch up to the others. She turned her attention back to the bard after Corec had ridden back in the direction they’d come from.
During the next break between songs, the woman looked her way. “Don’t just stand there, girl,” she said with a hillfolk accent. “That’s a harp case lashed to yon saddle, ain’t it? Bring it on down and let’s see what you can do.”
The group stayed in Lanport the next day to resupply, so Treya decided to bring Bobo to an almshouse if she could find one. They made a quick stop first so he could buy the last few ingredients he needed to make new batches of his salves. He’d sold most of his first batch, and the ogre attack had taken up the rest. He and Shavala had foraged for as many of the herbs as they could find during the journey north, but this late in the year, they hadn’t found everything he needed.
When Bobo was finished, the clerk looked toward Treya.
“I just need directions,” she said. “Does Lanport have any almshouses?”
“What, like where old people live when they can’t afford anywhere else?”
“Oh, no, I meant almshouses for healing.”
“Ahh, you want the healing house, then. There’s only one. Go out the door, two blocks west, then straight north for a quarter of a mile. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.”
After they left the shop, Bobo sighed. “Well, there goes the last of my money. I’m going to have to borrow coin from Corec again until I can mix these salves up and start selling them again.”
“I can loan you some of my share from fighting the demons,” Treya said. “Of course, if you had come with us...”
“Hah. No. I’ll leave the fighting to those that know how to do it. But I haven’t been able to find any translation or scribing jobs lately.”
“Well, I’ve got enough coin now. If we keep getting jobs like that, I can start sending some back to the Orders.”
Bobo nodded. “Well, if you can help me out with food and lodging for a bit, I’d appreciate it. I’ll start brewing the salves as soon as we’re on the road again, and pay you back as soon as I sell some. It would help if we’d camp out more often. I doubt the cook at an inn will let me use her kitchen all night long.”
“I’ll buy you your own pot, too. Katrin says the last time you made something, the taste lingered in the food for two days.”
“Did it? I couldn’t smell or taste anything after spending twelve hours stirring it.”
While they walked, Treya cast her mind around for something else to talk about, because if she didn’t, Bobo would bring up politics or philosophy again. He always took a position contrary to her own, just so he’d have someone to debate with, and she needed a break from it. Corec and Katrin never showed any interest in the discussions, Shavala barely spoke about topics she was interested in, and Ellerie and Boktar weren’t friendly enough with Bobo to humor him, so it usually fell to Treya to keep him amused.
Finally, she settled on a more personal topic. “Why are you so interested in finding Tir Yadar? Is it really just for the treasure?”
“My grandfather was a librarian before me, and he used to read me stories about treasure hunters and grand adventures. It always seemed like such an exciting, romantic life. I spent a few years learning things from books, but after a while, that wasn’t enough anymore, so I started looking for my own grand adventure.”
“Tir Yadar?”
“Not at first, but it turns out that it’s surprisingly difficult to create a great adventure out of nothing. I’m no warrior or wizard, so I needed to find a task to which I could apply my own not inconsiderable skills. I wanted to do something that could only be done by a scholar or seeker of knowledge; I wanted to leave my mark on the world.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“You’ve never wanted to do something that nobody else has done, or discover something that nobody else knows about?”
“Not really. I just wanted to protect people who need protecting.”
“You’re just making a different type of mark. For me, I went back to my grandfather’s stories. A lot of them were about finding ancient ruins or lost cities. The old histories discuss a number of cities that we don’t know how to find anymore. Of those, Tir Yadar is more of a legend—it’s mentioned a lot, but nobody seemed to know for sure if it really existed. And then Ellerie brought that book and asked me if I was able to read it.”
“So you stole the translations.”
“It didn’t really feel like stealing, since I was the one who’d translated them in the first place. I had a hunch about where to find the ruins, so I got greedy and took off. I didn’t find anything, but I suppose you could say I spent that time in the hills having my own little adventures. It wasn’t the epic quest I’d dreamed of, but it was certainly a new experience. And I got the chance to learn how to actually do some of the things I’d been reading about for all those years. You know the rest.”
Treya nodded. Bobo had been chased out by the hillfolk over a misunderstanding about some farming advice he’d given, and had eventually run into Corec and Katrin.
“Now it’s your turn,” Bobo said. “Why are you still here? Your reason before was to stay close in case you needed to be nearby when they found a way to end the bond ... but now you’re planning to keep it.”
“I said I was thinking about keeping it. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Still, it seems like if you really wanted to, you could go off on your own while you consider it. If they figure out a way to banish the binding spell, they can always track you down.”
Treya sighed and shrugged. “You all are my friends. Maybe Shana likes journeying by herself, but I like this better, and I think I can do just as much good traveling with everyone as I could do alone. Maybe more. Besides, people keep getting hurt. Even if Corec and Boktar handle all the fighting, who’s going to heal them if I’m not here?”
“Oh, I knew why you were here,” Bobo said. “I just wanted to make sure you knew it.”
Treya rolled her eyes. “Yes. Fine. I’m here because I want to be. Are you happy?”
“Quite. This whole warden thing is fascinating business. It seems like it must have happened for a reason. Who chooses the wardens, and how? Why did they choose Corec? Or is he right, and he was never chosen at all, and somehow they got the wrong person?”
“He says Yelena had thought they were being chosen at random, but now she’s not sure anymore.”
“I wonder if she’s the one who stole the three books about wardens from the Tyrsall library. Perhaps the next time you see her, you could introduce me.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted to meet her. She’s been helpful, but she’s not really the sort of person you just ... show up to talk to uninvited.”
“Well, I suppose it’s not important,” Bobo said, then stopped in front of a ramshackle wooden building. “This must be the place. I don’t know what you think I can do. My salves are gone, and so are most of my herbs.”
“If it’s anything like the places in Tyrsall, they’ll take any help you can give them. You can talk to the newcomers and see which ones can be helped without healing magic.”
Katrin played her harp, listening closely to the words Anise sang. The song was about a brief, tempestuous romance between Borrisur, the God of Weather, and Irisis, the Goddess of the Sea. As the last words faded out, so too did the vision in Katrin’s mind of Irisis slipping back beneath the waves while Borrisur flew up into the sky.
“Thank you, everyone,” the hillfolk woman called out to the small group that had stopped to listen. Two men stepped forward to drop copper coins in the wooden bowls Katrin and Anise had laid out in front of themselves. The ground was still wet, so Katrin had followed Anise’s lead rather than using her straw hat for tips.
“I’ve never heard those lyrics,” Katrin said to the bard. “The music is similar to something I’ve played before, but the words were different.”
“It’s popular up this way. They like the nature gods here. If you look around town, you’ll see Borrisur, Irisis, and Demesis has themselves the biggest temples. Come on, let’s go check out the street vendors afore it gets too dark.”
The smells from the food stalls lining the street had kept wafting past while they’d been playing, making Katrin’s mouth water. The two of them gathered up their things and wandered down to investigate the vendors. Katrin only bought a handful of roasted nuts, since she planned to join her friends for supper, but Anise chose shredded, spiced mutton wrapped in flatbread.
While they walked and ate, Katrin said, “I’ve never busked before. It’s fun.”
“You ain’t ever busked? How do you make money?”
“Circle Bay has laws against street performers. I’ve always played in inns and taverns before.”
“Well, sure, I’ll do that later tonight myself, but the problem is, they’ll let you play for maybe two hours, and then you’re done for the night. You ain’t gonna make much of a living that way, so that’s where the buskin’ comes in.”
“But you’re a bard. Couldn’t you play for noble houses or merchants?”
“I could, sure, but I’d have to talk all fancy-like. Besides, where’s the fun in playin’ for people who’s too stuffy to enjoy it? Is that what you want to do?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Katrin said. “Bards can make good money—that’s why I wanted to be one when I was growing up. We were poor, and it seemed like a way to a new life. Only, the schools wouldn’t take me. Not the ones in Tyrsall or Circle Bay.”
Anise said, “For me, the music’s always been the most important. Sure, the bardic talents are useful, but the music’s more fun, and I like playing for people who appreciate it.”
“What about playing in a concert hall?”
“Oh, I suppose I could arrange that if I ask my old school for a reference, but I ain’t often in a city big enough to have one. It’s just not worth the effort.”
“Which school did you attend?”
“Valara. I was one of the first girls they allowed in there, nigh on thirty years ago.”
“What was it like?” Katrin asked as they found an empty hitching post to lean against.
“I was away from home for the first time, and it was a very long way away from home. Circle Bay was the first big city I ever saw, and then Valara was nearly as big. They was so different from my little village, I’d have run away if I coulda figured out how to get back on my own. And the schoolmasters didn’t like me much. Don’t know if it’s because I was a girl or because I was from the hills. They said I couldn’t talk right or sing right or play right.”
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