Journey of the Messenger Cycle 2 Part 1d
Ijah took advantage of the dwarven sense of timing, she had meditated and exercised for long periods during three of the past four days. A healer had seen to her wound and it had mostly healed. She had not been locked away and did have a fairly nice room above the Donst terminus. She likely could have escaped if she really wanted to, though the dwarves would have taken such an act as proof of her ill intent towards their clan. Still, she had no idea how long this process was going to take. She had the impression it would be a number of days before she found out.
She had been thinking about her family a lot, as a result of her interrogation. She had spent an entire morning explaining her linage, as well as her present marital situation to Garkrn Edovmnti. The young dwarf had been very interested in Kereshi family structures and Ijah had been able to accurately provide three generations of relations as well as name a few of her more renown ancestors from a couple generations previous to that. The rest of the interview had been a very detailed accounting of the events leading up to the confrontation that had lead to her being detained.
She hoped Berri and Roddarra had followed her instructions. If they had done so, then they should be a hundred suri closer to West Port at this point. She was not pleased that she would not be able to present the messenger satchel herself. She also wondered what sort of embarrassments young Berri may cause her or have to endure. The girl would not be considered a very good initiate by most of her people, many would find her lack of grace or subtlety to be offensive. At least it would not be Osran delivering the satchel, the idea of her doing so was amusing.
She may not have intended to kill that man, but she had chosen to interfere in the situation. She knew well enough that actions often had unintended consequences. Sometimes doing the right thing was the wrong thing to do. Her priority should have been making sure the satchel reached the enclave in West Port. Lesson learned? Ijah did not think so, if she was being honest with herself, she would in all likelihood make a similar choice in the future. Assuming she had a future wherein she was free to take such actions again.
She really had no idea what was going to happen to her. She knew that within Maldorn violent crimes often lead to being sentenced to serve in the air force, but she did not know how the dwarven folk dealt with such things. She also was unsure how long these procedures would take, dwarves were renown for taking a great deal of time to do just about anything. Not that they were incapable of hasty actions, they just had a very different sense of timeliness than humans did. She expected to be here a while.
Ijah finished exercising, cleaned and clothed herself then went to the common area to get some food. She ate a few hard boiled eggs and a large bowl of the mushroom soup. She was the only one in the common room at the moment and she was enjoying the solitude, if not the meal. The same fare had been served every meal since she arrived and while the eggs were fine, the soup was oddly flavoured. Certainly not to her taste.
She had just finished her meal when Garkrn Edovmnti entered the common room and approached her. She had the impression the young dwarf was not pleased about something, though she had difficulties reading dwarven expressions or body language. He gave a slight bow, “Ijah of the Gahm-Kereshi, the Ngra-drgl clan finds no fault in your actions during your passage through our realm. We have been rather hastily encouraged by our Maldorn counterparts, in Donst, to release you into the custody of the town authorities. They claim jurisdictional rights as the body of Merchant Reldine had fallen within the town’s boundaries. If you are prepared I will escort you to the exit and turn you over to the aforementioned authorities.”
“Very well. I have nothing in my room to retrieve, lead on.”
They made their way down to the exit of the Donst terminus, Ijah was surprised to find it pouring rain. There was a pair of guards waiting to take her into custody, they were wet and cranky by the look of it, barely acknowledging Garkrn Edovmnti as he officially released her into their custody. They hardly paid her much heed for that matter, one of the guards advised, “Follow me. Don’t cause a fuss.”
She complied. They lead her down into the town, at the bottom of the access road a covered carriage with a two horse team waited. One guard waved dismissively, “Welcome to Donst, I believe this is your ride.”
As the guards walked away Ijah looked at the teamster and footman, they were both soaked and rather miserable looking. The footman opened the door and suggested, “Step lively, miss.”
Ijah ducked as she entered the carriage, Roddarra, dressed in fancy Maldorn styles, was the only other person within. Ijah asked,”Where’s Berri?”
“On her way to West Port. I’ve a couple towels here and some clothing for you to change into. Don’t sit until you get out of the wet clothing.”
Ijah went through the awkward manoeuvres required to strip off her wet clothing in the confined space of the carriage. In the time it had taken her to walk down to the town she had been soaked through, the rain continued to pour down, drumming against the roof of their transport. By her expression, Roddarra was enjoying the view. Once she was dry she picked up the clothing and sorted through it, most of the material felt nice, notably of excellent quality, expensive. Some of it looked complicated.
“That’s a corselette. Did you want me to give you a hand?” Her friend gave her a mischievous smile.
“I’d have been happier with a length or two of cloth to wrap around my body and perhaps a shawl for warmth.”
“No doubt. Though Lord Jostan had other thoughts on the issue. These are some of the latest styles from the capital.”
Ijah did not particularly care about Maldorn fashion, nor some lordling’s ideas about what she should be wearing, “How did he find the latest fashion in my size?”
“The Harlk women tend to be taller and bigger boned than is fashionable. They trace their lineages back to the early warrior cultures that used to live in these mountains and are, to this day, very militant in their outlook. More so than any of the other duchies.”
“So they choose to dress like this?”
“Not everything is warfare, Ijah. Besides, if it wasn’t for Lord Jostan, you’d still be in the mountain explaining your ancestry to the dwarves. So I think it… politic for you to dress in the clothing that has been provided.”
Ijah sighed, “Very well, show me how to put these things on.”
With he lover’s help Ijah put on bloomers, chemise, long stockings, garters, corselette, belt and choker. One piece attached to the next and Roddarra had fun dressing her, but Ijah felt like she was putting on a cage. She did not like how the garments would restrict her freedom of movement. Three layers of sheer material were her skirts, a low cut sheer shirt with long flowing sleeves seemed like the nicest piece of the clothing. Roddarra helped put her hair up, pinned a small hat and veil to the top of her head then placed a short hooded cape to one side. Lastly there were the boots.
“I’m not wearing those. I’ll be fine with the stockings.”
“Nonsense, slide your foot in, I’ll lace them for you.”
Reluctantly Ijah let her friend put the boots on her, “Maldorn women must spend half the day dressing and getting undressed.”
“Not so much. It’s mostly the nobility that wear such and they have servants to help them get dressed.”
“The boots are too small, they pinch my feet and I don’t know how you expect me to walk in these.”
“You’ll be fine, just take my arm and we’ll walk in together.”
“Seems we’ll be soaked through in moments if it’s still raining like this when we get there.”
“The main entry has a covered concourse attached to the carriage house, we’ll be fine. I think you’re beautiful, it’s a different look for you.” She wrapped Ijah’s wet garments in the towels and slid them under the couch she was sitting on. “Ready?”
“I guess.”
“Try to relax if you can. Lord Jostan’s palace is on the other side of the valley.” Roddarra turned and slid a panel open at the front of the carriage, “Mister Haldanstak, we’re all set here. Take us home.”
The carriage lurched into motion. The heavy rain continued. Ijah sat back and tried to meditate, Roddarra looked out the small glass window as they moved through town. Unable to detach herself from the unusual feeling of her garments Ijah shifted a number of times, trying to get comfortable. After a while she suggested, “Perhaps we should review some of the Maldorn you’ve been teaching me? As well as how I’m supposed to behave when I meet this Lord Jostan.”
“That seems like a good way to pass the time.”
Her friend instructed her as they rode across the valley, they did not reach the lord’s palace until after midday. The rain had slowly tapered to a light drizzle and Ijah was fairly confident in how she should greet their esteemed host by the time they arrived at the front door. She took a few slow relaxing breaths, waited for Roddarra to get out, then followed, hoping she would not trip over her own feet.
Roddarra and the footman helped her down. As they headed towards the door, Roddarra advised, “Please don’t kill anyone here.”
Ijah scowled at her.
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