The first shafts of light from a rising sun played
across the face of Aden Feir as he sprawled lazily across a tree
branch high above the ground. Strong winds made the leaves frantic
and his perch swayed. Unconcerned he simply laid there and let the
motion coax his eyes shut again. A particularly bright flash of
light through molted green leaves brought them back open. He
groaned. Morning was incontestably on its way and that meant he was
going to be late.
He rose carefully to his knees, conscious of the
waving motion of his purchase, and cracked every joint that would,
from neck to hips. Next he stretched, and with a sigh for the lack
of time in general, gathered his legs beneath him and leapt out into
the empty space below.
Smaller branches left faint red lines across the face
and arms as he hurtled downward. Both arms suddenly reached out and
snagged a limb. It bent and he curled his body like a gymnast, using
the momentum to whip around, then up, and finally back along an
earth bound path. He caught another bough a few feet further down,
but instead of using it to bleed off speed he redirected his course
into the tree and met the trunk with bent knees. The direction
changed again as he flipped backwards, hands planting firmly on the
wide limb just adjacent to the trunk where he had connected. With a
twist he arched his wiry body and vaulted neatly over what he had
just used for a springboard. He simply dropped the last twenty five
feet, leaves scattering all around his landing space.
Aden straightened to his fullest, a slight 5’7”,
bouncing lightly on his toes and wincing slightly at the stress on
his ankles. He’d done the move often enough, but anything over
twenty feet never failed to raise a protest with the joints. A
little physical pain however, was nothing compared to what he could
expect when he finally made it back to Haellel’s.
He pressed a palm to his forehead already feeling the
ghost of a headache. His uncle was going to have a fit when he
discovered that he had skipped out on chores to catch the peddler at
the inn. Not that Haellel was any less interested in the news he
had, but not cutting the wood? Oh was that ever call for dark looks,
extra, pointless work, and Gods help him....lecturing. Lecturing
made Aden want to bite his own tongue and just end it all.
At least, he thought, today is the last one
I’ll ever get. Because after today, after today, he would be on
his way and out of Bell’s Hollow. The mere idea made his toes curl
in excitement.
He looked to the horizon and the new sun shone in his
eyes with a kind of mocking cheerfulness. Absentmindedly he brushed
the long tails of his bangs back and tucked the ends behind his ears
thinking that even against him, dawn in the West Mark was worth
seeing. He certainly knew the schedule well enough. It was
undeniably his favorite time of day. A perfectly justifiable reason
for being late if you asked him, but it was time to get moving.
Appreciating beauty simply didn’t rank on Haellel’s list of good
excuses. Not that anything shy of near death did to be honest.
So he ran, fast and easy, strides unbroken as he
ducked and wove through tracks of land used only by the animals. The
ground was rough and uneven under the soles of his leather sandals
but he felt nothing except the wind in his hair and cool dampness of
the wet leaves that touched his cheeks.
When the slope that marked the perimeter of the woods
drew closer he quickened and at the edge hurtled out as far as his
momentum would carry him. His feet made purchase at an angle he
hadn’t planned for however, and touched off a small rockslide that
he rode most of the way down on his ass. He came up bruised and
indignant at the botched landing.
How appropriate. Late and now he had gravel in places
that weren’t meant to.
The gulf at the bottom of the slope opened wide into a
bowl shaped depression that was followed by a small, grassy rise. On
top of this modest hill was a squat hut with dry grass roofing,
stone walls, and green rimmed windows. Smoke curled from a gap just
center of the thatch and chimes along the roof’s edge clinked as the
wind picked up. It looked quaint and unremarkable. The building,
however, was intentionally misleading because the true home of
Haellel Rune Master was within the confines of the knoll itself.
Caves and secret nooks filled the land all around the Divide and his
uncle had taken advantage of a pre-existing structure. The hill was
mostly hollow inside and the hut just a decoy that Haellel himself
had probably built, and badly at that.
Aden rubbed a scuffed elbow and circled around till he
came to a spot that for all appearances seemed to be just another
part of the surroundings. Here he paused and scanned the ground
until he located a fist-sized stone that if viewed in the right
light looked marginally like a turtle. He hesitated before it,
glancing up at the still dark interior of the cottage. Would he be
able to sneak in? If he could at least get some of his chores done
it might go better for him. He took a deep breath and nudged the
turtle-stone with his toe.
“ADEN YOU LAZY, SLIPPERY, LITTLE-“ bellowed a voice
from above.
He froze, foot still in mid nudge and felt the hairs
stand up on the back of his neck. Power crackled from the stone and
he stared dumbly at the arcs of green light shooting frantically off
its back. With a surprisingly meek ‘pop’ he disappeared. Only the
smell of ozone remained.
****
Whooomp! For the second time that
morning Aden was dropped unceremoniously on his backside, only this
time into a freshly stoked fire. He yelped like a scalded cat and
scrambled off the hot coals with all due speed accorded those whose
pants are in danger of igniting. He crouched on the floor and
scowled up at a tall man with ash colored hair, a generous tailed
mustache, and dark blue eyes.
“You’re late,” his uncle said ominously, arms crossed.
The suntanned, lined face was disapproving and the posture of his
lean, muscled frame spoke volumes of irritation.
“And you’re a git!” Aden growled.
A tick started in one weathered cheek. “What did you
call me?!”
“A git! An absolute cattle’s backside! You didn’t have
to drop me into the fire!”
Haellel’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Why you impertinent-“
“Lazy.”
“Idle!”
“Disrespectful?”
“Right! And, cheeky-“
“Insolent?”
“That too, and...cut that out Aden.”
His uncle frowned down at him. “I’m beginning to
regret handling your higher education.”
He got a snort for a reply, but it sounded vaguely
guilty. Aden brushed off the soot and rose to his feet with a sigh.
“Sorry about the wood.”
“And the floors.”
“And the scrying tools,” his nephew added quickly, as
if saying it faster would put it out of mind quicker..
Haellel massaged the bridge of his long nose.
“What am I supposed to do with you boy? You’ve been
here how long?”
“Nearly two years?”
“Right. I’ve had you since you were fifteen and I
still haven’t been able to domesticate you, teach you any manners,
or instill within your head a sense of responsibility.”
There was a slight grinding sound that might have been
teeth.
“I take you in to teach you the arcane and privileged
arts of runic magic and what kind of commitment do I get?”
Aden’s light brown eyes began to take on a glazed
look.
“Not even a whit of magical ability and I still keep
you on. All I ask in return is a little obedience and some menial
labor. I could send you right back to your father’s inn and you can
spend the rest of your life doing dishes and-“
Aden cleared his throat, a slight smile playing at the
edges of his mouth.
“What?”
“But today’s the last day,” he said simply.
Haellel grunted noncommittally at that. “Yes, this
grand plan of yours. Going to off and become a courier. Have you
discussed this with your parents? I know I have no real say, and I
did release you from your apprenticeship but...”
“Sort of...,” Aden said. “I haven’t told mother or
father yet. Boots and Tamerlane know though.”
“What about Piet?”
Aden shook his head. “Not a chance. At least, not
until the last minute possible.”
His uncle uncrossed his arms and began to pace about
the room.
“I don’t like it.”
“Why? What more can I do here?” Aden wanted to know.
“Like you said I don’t have the spark and even you can’t keep making
excuses to father about it. I’m not going to be an innkeeper, or my
brother’s lackey.”
“But a courier? I never imagined you for the delivery
trade.”
“Not a local mailer!” Aden said exasperatedly. “I told
you, I want to join the special division.”
“International mail then.” Haellel fixed his nephew
with steady blue eyes. “It’s not an easy field Aden. For Eeirn’s
sake, do you even have a plan?”
“I’m going to the guildhouse by the gap. It’s about 5
days north of here. I got word from the peddler that the application
process is still good for another three weeks.”
“So that’s why you left last night. To catch the
peddler.”
A sandaled foot scuffed at the ashes on the floor.
Haellel rolled his eyes.
“We’ll discuss this later. Bring in wood and quarter
the rest as you were meant to before you went off and plotted
your escape.”
Aden suppressed a groan but thought he’d gotten off
lighter than expected. Haellel’s tirades had been known to last well
into two days. Shrugging off his jerkin he hung it on the tool rack
by the door and uncovered a long handled ax. Taking it with him he
left Haellel and strode around to the back of the cabin.
The lot that greeted him was empty save two decent
sized saplings. There was no cut wood and only a fresh pile of dead
trees that he and his uncle had dragged back themselves not three
days past. This was going to take time and it was going to be hot
work for the morning. He set the ax down, retied tied the laces at
the knees of his breeches and tucked the long strands of his bangs
behind each ear before setting to work.
********
With a mental command a small lick of flame encouraged
the smoking mass in the center of the room to burn faster. Another
small nudge of willpower sent the smoke spiraling up and out the
hole in the center. Haellal took a deep breath of fresh air and
looked about for the contraption the boy had helped him design to
brew kaf. He found it stored in a corner and regarded it with a
frown. He was not usually the one to do this but he had already set
Aden to chopping wood. Listening carefully he could make out the
rhythmic ‘thunk’ of the ax against wood and the occasional curse.
The edges of his mouth curled up but fell when he studied the
tripod-legged colander. Apprentices were supposed to do this kind of
work, and if Aden, though now it was really a matter of when, left,
he would be doing this kind of thing again. After having the extra
help around for the last two years he didn’t relish resuming the
basic chores.
Haellel cupped his chin in hand and continued to
listen to the activity outside, blue eyes meditative and wondering.
With a slight wince for the popping of his knees as he rose and
wandered over to his work desk, rummaging around in the topmost
drawer. Inside his hand searched until a smooth, egg-sized stone the
color of rose quartz was singled out. This fine object he carried
back over to his meditative spot and sat down. Cupping it gently in
the palm of his hand, he blew lightly across the surface. Something
moved under the pink shell.
“Thedra,” he called softly. “I want to speak with
you.”
A couple of moments passed before an equally soft
voice said, “Brother, has something happened? Is he alright?”
There was a slight note of intensity to the latter
half of her queries that made the rune master smile. Anyone who had
known the Thedra of their youth would be disbelieving as to how much
she had changed since seven children had gained life through her.
That she even had children still made him shake his head. She had
not been the motherly sort.
He could picture her now, long dark red hair caught up
in a scarf. Sharp blue eyes and freckles sprayed across the bridge
of her nose. She had a firm mouth and high cheekbones. Her skin was
tan and she looked younger than her 38 years. Thedra was also, like
him, gifted in the art of runes.
“The young delinquent is fine Thedra. I’ve put him to
work so we could talk undisturbed.”
“But this does concern him?” She said.
“Yes. It’s about his future.”
There was a pause at the other end of the channel and
he could hear a faint sigh.
“I know he hasn’t the gift Haellel, but sending him
home would only make him miserable. Has he done something so
unforgivable as to warrant his leave-taking?”
Haellel knuckled his mustaches and remembered any
number of accidents, fights, acts of disobedience, and outright
practical jokes. None of which, he would ever have sent the boy home
for. He had gotten rather used to the noise after all this time.
“No Thedra, nothing of the sort, though he could use a
better sense of responsibility. And manners. And respect.”
His sister laughed at that and not for the first time
he thought Mother and son very much alike. Neither had a love of
authority.
Her rich laughter died away and she pressed him for
purpose of his call. He told her, and they talked about the boy for
some time, him voicing what he thought were his strengths and
weakness’ and outlining the harebrained plan he had settled upon for
his future. Thedra, for her part, listened attentively, commenting
here and there on matters she wished more detail on, often
punctuating Haellel’s recalling with more laughter and some genuine
pride for her offspring.
“As I’ve said Thedra, he hasn’t the experience or
caution for this sort of thing. I’m reluctant to let him leave, but
I can’t stop him if it’s what he decides on. He’ll be 18 in a matter
of months and despite his talent at woodcraft and hunting he has
precious little else to support him.”
He could almost feel the smile coming over the line.
“Then that is precisely why this may be good for him.
Aden ever was an aimless child. He has a great curiosity about
things, but never any dedicated interest. This is the first time
I’ve heard him name a goal.”
“That’s for sure,” Haellel grunted.
“If this courier service frees him from what he
believes is an undesirable fate and it gives him direction, then I
can see no good reason for him to remain here. He’ll never learn
those truly important lessons until he experiences them for
himself.”
“What of Jael?”
Another pause, this one more deliberative.
“It would be better for Aden to ask but...regardless,
I think Jael will have to let him go. He won’t agree at first, but
he’s only hard on the boy because he thinks he’s wasting his life.”
“And is he?”
Thedra snorted. “I couldn’t say. He is no longer a
child and we cannot continue to make his decisions for him. But,”
she said a little softer, “I worry for him too Haellel. He is a
little unpredictable and impulsive. Sometimes I wonder at his
thoughts, but you know what he is like.”
“Yes,” the rune master agreed. “He has a way of doing
(and surviving, he added mentally) the strangest things. He’ll
listen but eventually he will do his own thing.”
“Are you angry at me for sending him to you?”
He thought about this and said truthfully, “I was mad
at first. You gave me no warning and even less choice. Was I to just
send him back? From how he views the Inn I cannot fault him for
wanting to leave, but when he arrived on my doorstop I had no
interest in babysitting your problem child.”
“You always complained you needed another apprentice,”
she reminded him.
“Yes! An apprentice who I could teach the ways! How
that boy of yours has absolutely no spark I cannot understand. It
must be Jael’s fault.”
“Watch your tongue brother,” she said easily, but it
was sharp as well.
“Anyways,” he continued, “He has been...acceptable
company despite it all.”
“You mean he is good at filling your belly,” she
pointed out.
Haellel snorted, but couldn’t disagree.
“Well, the matter seems to be out of our hands. I
don’t suppose he would return to the Inn of his own free will?”
“And work here with his brothers? With Tima?” She
laughed again. “Aden was never meant to work in an Inn. Perhaps he
knows this better than us all.”
“He seems to think he knows a great deal about his
future.”
“You mean that fortune teller.”
“Yes.”
Thedra sighed. “Dratted old woman for telling him such
a thing. He was always reckless but after that woman spoke to him he
was nothing if not careless with his life.”
“More like fearless,” Haellel corrected her. “And that
kind of fearlessness can be lethal.”
“Light knows he’s broken enough bones,” she said
resignedly. “but, perhaps he will grow out of it.”
You don’t believe that any more than I, he thought.
“Anyway,” the runemaster continued, “If I can’t
convince him otherwise then I guess all that’s left is to send him
home.”
“We will be here waiting,” Thedra said firmly.
********
An hour later Aden was sweating and cramps had begun
to manifest themselves along his spine and shoulders. When he set
down the ax to yank the damp bangs back his hands shook and refused
to unclench from their grip on the haft. He willed them to let go,
finger by finger and finally he managed, unthinkingly dropping it on
his foot in the process. A sort of high pitched whine escaped from
his throat and his eyes misted over in pain. Haellal chose that time
to appear from around the corner, a plate and two earthenware mugs
in his hand. Aden blinked furiously and didn’t turn until he was
sure nothing showed on his face. The rune master regarded him
questioningly, but the youth waved away his question and bent over
stiffly to retrieve the ax.
“Slow work,” Haellal growled.
Aden snorted and hefted the blade to bisect another
log.
“You would do well to relax your arms until the moment
the blade meets the wood.”
‘Thwack!’
“And why aren’t you wearing the gloves? You won’t be
able to hold a cup by the time you finish.”
‘Thwack!’
“If you had done this last night as you were
instructed…”
‘Thwack!’ *sigh*
“Aden,” Haellal said seriously. “Put it down and come
eat breakfast.”
Again he had to disengage his cramped fingers by sheer
willpower. And, as Haellal had observed, the skin was cracked and
bleeding in some places.
“Here. Kaf,” said the elder passing on the steaming
mug.
Aden accepted it gingerly and sat down on the grass,
legs sprawled out.
As he drank Haellal studied him weighingly. Aden
paused mid sip and regarded him over the mug.
“What?” He said finally with undisguised irritation.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Need to do,” Aden corrected him.
“Aden, you’re young yet, why not find a stable trade
here? You have no experience outside of Bell’s Hollow and you know
nothing of the Courier’s Guild. Why this?”
The bright brown eyes were amused. “You’ve just named
most of the reasons. I want to do it because, I haven’t done it
before. That’s the point right?”
Haellel grunted. “As usual your reasoning is
oversimplified. Don’t you ever think about the future? What if you
don’t make it? Or, Liek’s Air, you do make it and have to spend the
rest of your life avoiding an untimely death. You do know that the
section you want to join is not known for a high degree of safety?”
The wide grin said everything.
“Listen to me boy, I know that you *think* you know
when your time is going to end, but that mystic was a fake. What she
told you isn’t the truth, your death isn’t set. Haven’t I taught you
anything?”
Aden set down the mug and got up to stretch.
“Uncle,” he said, “I remember what you’ve taught me
and how the ways work. What she told me wasn’t about my death, it
was about a certain time that I should wait for.”
“That doesn’t make you immortal. You’re not safe from
being hurt or dying. And that’s assuming, which I don’t believe mind
you, that she spoke the truth.”
Aden shrugged. “I heard her when she spoke. It’s true
enough for me. She said,” and he recited in a clear voice, “‘There
are three marks to tell the time. Two from the man with the empty
soul, who will follow you. He will be there for the third, but it
will not come from him. When the harvest comes and the trees show
the turn, a river will fall from the sky. The dead-eyes will mark
you but face another. When the red rock runs fresh you will have a
choice. If you reach for the stone and face the setting sun, your
time has come.’”
He stretched his arms wide to show the tanned, smooth
skin of his torso. Bits of wood and grass stuck to him, but there
were no scars, no overt marks upon his body yet. Haellel blew out
his mustaches.
“It’s nonsense and you’re just going to get yourself
killed.”
Aden smiled at him and shrugged. “Even if you don’t
believe it, you must believe your own words.”
“Oh? And what would those be?”
“’Everyone must be what they are for their own sake
and on their own time.’ That’s what you said.”
“I seem to also remember saying that fools should stay
at home for their own sake.”
His nephew laughed and sat back down. Haellel watched
him and the past two years sped across his mind like a fire vision.
Aden, 15 and unbearably noisy, loathe to do chores and more often
found in trees than on the ground. Aden after the first few months
sitting by the scrying fire and trying vainly to see some of the
other world. Never angry that he couldn’t, but frustrated with
wasting time indoors. One year ago, Aden taken by well fever, lying
bedridden for nearly a week, the heat from his skin burning the air.
He had laughed towards the end of it, telling Haellel that finally
he had had a glimpse of that other world and he wasn’t sorry he’d
never seen it before. Aden, coming back one day from what was
supposed to be a normal supply run with a broken arm and a sack
stuffed with feathers. Chrysal feathers, rare and magical.
Two years of lessons, practical skills and just
living. Aden was always curious, never one to accept answers at
first telling. He worked hard, if somewhat absentmindedly, his
attention in the trees and lakes and rivers. He was not meant to be
a mage, or an innkeeper like his father. When his sister’s son had
come to him for the training he had been just shy of 16. Too old to
properly instruct really, and too young to leave off on his own. The
boy was quite nearly a man now, though his youthful face and modest
height made him appear younger than he was. He had the build of
court performer, thin as a reed but all of it wiry muscle. Indeed he
had seen Aden execute some complicated maneuvers from the trees he
so loved to climb. But for the brightly intelligent brown eyes he
looked a forester’s son, not an innkeeper’s or a rune master’s
apprentice, right down to the knife cut red/brown hair. His nephew
was meant for other things than a hermit’s life like his own. Maybe
the Courier’s Guild was that place.
Aden, finished with the kaf, lay back on the grass and
blinked lazily at the cloudless spring sky.
“I expected more of a lecture,” he said teasingly at
Haellel’s brooding silence.
The Rune Master’s eyes narrowed. Proper respect was
another thing the boy lacked besides magic.
“I can think of something given enough time,” he
growled.
Aden’s lips twitched but he had the sense not to push
it.
“So I did see the peddler,” he said instead. “Boots
told me he would only be there the night and then gone again for
another month.”
“Your brother has better things to do then to tempt
the already truant.”
“I’ve never known you to turn up your nose at
word from the outside. Besides, he had important news.”
“One of your brothers or sisters could have brought it
themselves.”
“Everyone’s busy with Hoar Fest preparations. Mother
couldn’t even spare Paer. The Inn has got more guests than they know
what to do with. It’s always like that this time of year.”
“And the peddler chose not to stay for the
celebration? Surely he would have made profit there.”
Aden’s shrug was lost in a full back spasm that made
him wince.
“He seemed eager to be on the road. You’ll understand
when you hear the news.”
Haellal bristled with irritation. “Then let’s have it
boy. I hope it was worth the work you’ll be doing today. After the
wood there are skals to gut and dry and I’m out of palm slugs.”
The boy didn’t even try to suppress the grimace, but a
moment later something hopeful flitted across his features before he
could quash it.
“I know what you’re thinking you rascal,” the rune
master said flatly. “I will not trade news for chores. Out with it
before I make you get me a winter’s supply of thickle buds.”
Aden made a warding gesture but he seemed as eager to
part with the information as he was to barter.
“Okay okay. He was in a hurry because skirmishes have
broken out on the South Mark borders and he wants to get his wares
to the capital when the news really hits. There’s worry that the
Mark’s regent won’t be able to hold off war without promised aid
from Polaire.”
Haellal frowned. “The West Mark’s regent isn’t even
here. Polaire is on the yearly trade summit in Fish Hook along with
representatives from the North Mark and Khelder lands across the
sea. Sembrie knows that. Even if the West Mark were to get involved
surely she shouldn’t be having trouble from Minnai?”
Aden sat up, the bits of wood speckling his skin like
freckles. He shook his head. “Not just Minnai from what the peddler
said. Forcland too.”
“Just rumors? Or something else?”
“There must be some truth to them. The inn’s had a lot
of unusual guests lately.”
“Oh?”
Aden gave him a sly look. The rune master’s gaze
narrowed on his apprentice and a word of power made the youth pop
straight up like scalded cat.
“Enough of your impertinence boy. Last warning.”
A sour expression was initially the only reply, but
with a sigh he told Haellal what he had gleaned from Boots during
their brief talk. Rubbing the small of his back Aden set about
eating the plate of cold rabbit without relish while Haellal mused
over the news.
“A courier you say?”
“Mmm. Not just one. Two were there and they had
packages.”
Haellel closed his eyes. “What color seals did they
have?”
“Blue,” Aden said carefully.
“Shape?”
“A sort of cross.”
“Did you notice anything else?”
Even with closed eyes Haellel could sense the
curiosity coming from his nephew.
“These couriers looked travel worn. One of them even
requested a kit and they had dinner in their room.”
“Do you know where they were headed?”
“I heard Father ask them, but they wouldn’t tell him.
They left before everyone got up.”
Haellel cracked an eye open, the white of his teeth
showing in a knowing smile.
“But not before you.” It was a statement rather than a
question. Haellel, after two years with the boy knew that no one was
more nosy, more sneaky, and more apt to act on his impulses than
Aden. If those courier’s had hoped for anonymity they had gone to
wrong inn. Aden would know everything from the direction they were
headed to the make of cloaks on their back. He noticed those sorts
of things, though Haellel doubted whether he had ever considered
using that knowledge for anything but satisfying his own curiosity.
A dangerous habit regardless.
“Illo,” Aden said with certainty.
“hmmm...” Haellel knuckled his mustaches. “Do you know
whose seal that is Aden?”
A shake of the head.
“The blue cross is the seal of Ghelder. He’s a middle
lord in near Aveney.”
“?”
The rune master sighed and wondered if this were the
right course. If he started now he was only aiding this foolish
plan...
Aden tried to look patient but he fidgeted.
“Fine,” Haellel runemaster said. “Let me give you one
last lesson. I’ll tell you about the guild, and the houses, and you
think about what I say long and hard apprentice. There will be no
easy rode and no excuses if you fall back.”
The brown eyes were eager for his words for a change.
It was rather depressing actually.
Haellel cleared his throat and began to tell him about
the web of human association in the Marks and the trade that made
communication possible. About the wars and the role of the Messenger
Guild.
Next bit coming soon...
