Journey of the Messenger Cycle 2 Part 1b
Moving along the canal under the mountain was a strange experience. Beyond the light of the four lanterns on the barge, the darkness was a veil that obscured their surroundings. Ijah could at times feel a change in the air or hear the difference between one cavern or another by how the conversations of the passengers or the sounds from the water changed. She felt no small amount of trepidation over the vast amount of stone that rose above them. She knew it was not going to come crashing down, or at the very least understood that is was unlikely to do so, the mountain had stood for a very long time. Besides, dwarves were renowned for their engineering and crafting.
Periodically they saw other lamps in the darkness, often on another barge along some other vein of the canal system, sometimes the lamps were stationary, illuminating some way point, junction or lock. She thought they might mark the distance they had traversed but there was no real way to gauge that, the speed of the barge was not consistent and the lack of other visual references left her unable to make such calculations.
She sat at the forward end of the passenger area which was located towards the back third of the barge, as was a small deck house that contained a few bunks and two latrines. They were not allowed to freely roam around the barge but could do so within the designated passenger area. Not that there was much roaming room; seating for twenty, four tables that were also board games, the bunk house and a couple barrels of drinking water took up most of the space.
While a couple of the passengers had chosen to claim beds, most had taken a seat and were engaged in quiet conversation, a few of them played games. Roddarra was engaged in a conversation with the three fashionable young women, while Berri had convinced the older gentleman with the musical instrument to play trees and traps with her. Ijah was trying to meditate but her thoughts kept wandering and the fact that she could not find her usual equilibrium was beginning to frustrate her.
One of the black clad guards, or bounty hunters, kept staring as her, causing her some agitation. It was obvious that he liked what he saw and despite the fact she had pointedly ignored him, he was still trying to get a response from her. She kept her eyes mostly closed and tried to work through what was troubling her.
Igma… Igma Kalit, eccentric sorceress in her mountain hold. Igma the necromancer. The woman who hid in her tower, hoarding lore, treasures and people who interested her. A woman who had been reluctant to stir herself from languid luxury to assist people who had desperately appealed to her for help. A woman with immense power who seemingly felt no obligation to use that power for other people’s benefit or to help any beyond her small holding.
There were so many things about the woman that felt wrong to Ijah. Especially the liberal use of necromancy and mind-magic. Such disciplines were either strongly curtailed by peer censorship or completely illegal depending on the culture in question, the most notable exception being Tannica and that nation was a perfect example of why those kinds of magic were discouraged. Then there was the woman’s isolation, coupled with her long lifespan and the impressive power she wielded. Kereshi history was full of examples where intelligent, strong women had lost perspective and their sanity under such conditions, all too often becoming a major threat to the well being of the greater community. Igma had no peers, nor family who could support her, no one to give her council who was not dependent on her continuing on, as she had been for the past two hundred years. Or so?
Yehmeera had forsworn her own people and the Great Plan, accepting sanctuary with the necromancer. Ijah knew the woman had suffered greatly, had witnessed her entire family being slaughtered by the Elquinian misogynists. Nearly all the Kereshi who had gone to the Kingdom of Elquin had suffered that same fate. There would be a reckoning for those deaths, of that Ijah had no doubt, but Yehmeera no longer cared. Or so she had said. Ijah felt bad for the slight she had delivered to the woman and had attempted to apologize. Certainly that incident had made further discussions more difficult and may have only served to reinforce Yehmeera’s choice to abandon her people.
The bounty hunter that had been eyeing her said something to his companion, they shared a laugh and then the man stood and walked the length of the seating area to stand in front of Ijah. “Hello,” He greeted her in heavily accented andalee, “You appear to lost your companions. May I join you?”
Ijah slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. He smiled. She frowned. He moved Berri’s lute behind the chair the girl had been sitting on and sat, “I noticed your sword. You are one of kerri-shy warrior.”
Ijah sighed, wishing her sword was more conveniently placed, but as most of the other people had either packed their weapons away or seemingly did not have any, she had thought it best to at least place her weapon behind the chair. She turned her head to maintain eye contact with the man but said nothing.
He persisted, “Your blade is old, overly large, not good for a modern fight.”
“I could demonstrate its utility.”
Either her tone or what she had said confused him for a moment, his brow furrowed, then he smiled, “I heard kerri-shy love no men. I think it untrue. You are strong and big. We spend the rest of trip in bunkhouse, together?”
“Wow, such a charmer. I’ll pass.”
He laughed, “No. I good lover, you look to need relaxing.”
Ijah was on the verge of giving him a relaxing, or at the very least a satisfying beating when Berri came up to the man, “Hey, mister, where’s my lute?”
He shifted his position so she could see where he had put it. Berri smiled, “Wow, that’s great, can I have my seat back?”
He frowned and waved her off, “I busy kid, go away.”
She said loudly, “I want my seat, mister.”
He scowled then stood, turning to Ijah he said, “We talk again.”
“Great, I can hardly wait.”
He walked away and Berri flounced into the chair. Ijah gave her a tight smile, “I was handling that.”
“Sure, I just thought I should interrupt. You had that look you get, just before people start dying.” She turned and pulled her instrument from behind the chair, “Nordak said he could show me a few things on my lute. He’s a luthier, someone who makes instruments, not a person who plays lutes, but he does that too.”
“I see. Nordak is the old man, I take it?”
“Yeah, he’s really nice. He comes from Olds, that’s a place, not an age, and he’s a master luthier, he knew Odeena apparently and he’s come to Maldorn to deliver the lute he made for a duke. That’s like a lord, with a bigger holding by the sound of it.”
“Well, enjoy.”
“I will. Don’t kill anyone.”
“I’ll do my best.” Ijah settled herself and once again tried to meditate. She heard melodic music, obviously Berri was not the one playing, the sounds of conversation dropped off and Ijah floated away with the music. For a while at least.
“Hello, again we could talk? We may have started with the wrong hand.”
Ijah opened her eyes and looked up at the man in the black armour. He stood a pace away, having removed his helmet, both his hair and beard had been combed out. She asked, “How do you mean?”
“You’re are powerful woman, worth the praise like a goddess. I not understand ways of your people. I see you and am risen with interest… real woman.” He gestured with both hand towards her then looked over to where Roddarra sat with the fashionable ladies, “Those candy-stick woman.” He waved with one hand, seemingly a dismissive attitude, “May I sit?”
Ijah grimaced, “I’d rather you did not. Besides, you are wasting your time, we walk different roads and I do not expect to be seeing you after this canal trip. You understand?”
“Ha! Yes. Your smile is very beauty. We will see more of each other, I sure.” He smiled, came to military attention then turned on a heal and strode back to his companion and the prisoner.
Ijah sighed. There were times when she missed the customs of her own people. These Maldorn men seemed to be getting too much meat…
Roddarra came over and took her seat, “Problems?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“What did he want?”
“To dance with the goddess. Do you know the uniform they wear?”
“Sure, Black Tower. Maldorn’s only mercenary company. They also do a lot of bounty hunting and chasing down of runaway servants. My family supplies them with horses, and have been doing so since long before Maldorn was a nation.”
“Oh… Why would servants run away?”
Roddarra looked to either side of where they were sitting and lowered her voice, “Maldorn makes a big deal about being against slavery and how all people are equal under Maldorn law, but they have a system of indentured servitude. Most petty crimes and especially insoluble debt will lead to a sentence of servitude. It works pretty well regarding lesser crimes, but the debt issue is another matter entirely. The term of servitude for debt can be generational.”
“Generational? As in… generations of a family serving against the original debt?”
“Just so, yes.”
“Wow. How is that not slavery?”
“One wonders. It is a very sensitive issue, as has been the case for over a generation or so at this point. There is growing resistance against the injustice of the system, but it is not a subject that people talk about openly. Especially not in polite company.”
“Polite company?”
“The nobility, powerful merchants, officials…”
“So, those who benefit the most from the present situation.”
“Certainly.”
“Well, that’s interesting.” Ijah had been under the impression that Maldorn was more socially advanced than that, it seemed crazy that children would inherit debt or servitude. She knew Maldorn was very concerned with economics and trade. No doubt that was the root of the problem.
“Did you want me to have a word with the mercenary?”
Ijah laughed, “Please don’t. I can handle the situation.”
“Well, we’ll likely be guesting with the commander of the Black Tower. I’m hoping to gain the assistance we will need to get to West Port quickly from him…”
“Ah. Well, I’ll keep that in mind. You seemed to be enjoying the company of the young ladies.”
“Sort of. Really, I’m trying to get a feel of things. It’s been a few years since I’ve was last here. It’s the sort of place where fashions, ideas and outlooks change quickly.”
“So, we’re about halfway through this part of the trip?”
“Yes, we should be in Donst by late afternoon or early evening.”
“Well, I think I will return to my meditations.”
“I’ll leave you to it then.” She gave Ijah a quick kiss on the check then returned to where the women were sitting.
Ijah settled back. Berri was playing the lute now, while the older man instructed her. She glanced at the mercenaries, the fellow who was doing his best to woo her smiled. She ignored him, regulated her breathing and drifted into a deep trance.
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