It had been little less than two months after I had woken up in the mansion of the Lord of Yerdoth. During my stay, I had learned far more than I had ever expected and had befriended people I wouldn't ever have, if I had complied with mother's wishes.
I also learned a lot more than I was ever capable of imagining. The lessons I had with both Delano and Uncle Desdiro offered me a new perception of Vyertas. So many rulers that I was told to look upon held the darkest and the most twisted secrets, ruining the land many more lived in. The natural balance of society was corrupted because of their ambitious and filthy desires. Each time I thought about the Rules, both Old and New, I ended up with the same solution: the Old contained more humanity than the New ever could. It was right fighting for the most natural conventions; that what Shira and all those living under Lord of Yernoth's rule supported was the most correct option.
That's why, over the many weeks I had stayed under their wings, I strived my hardest to gain the most knowledge about all I could. But I was progressing too slowly to my likings. There was too much I was ignorant about and sometimes neither Delano nor Uncle Desdiro could answer my questions.
One time, Shira took me to a camping place, in the farther east region of Yernoth. There I visited the Gergowns, or what was left of them. The once immense tribe was reduced to less than a thousand members. Kaveh accompanied us and I had the chance to meet Straight Moustache. It was weird to actually experience what others did when I talked with Dark Fur, but it was funny in a sort of way. Besides Kaveh's quirky mate, I had the chance to encounter Ternu, the tribe's elder, who told me stories of his youth, of the land which was taken away from them, but most importantly, he shared with me the Gergownian meaning of the Old Rules, what they represented in their culture.
The woman was the centre of the whole society, the chosen lady, Vrya'a, was served and, in return, she dedicated her life to care for the well-being of the land. Each parish had a Vrya'a of its own, which was subjugated to the one chosen by the whole land. This later was ruled by the Vrya'a of Vyertas. This position had been covered by the former Lady of the Kermijs for the past thirty years and unrightfully so. The lands hadn't chosen this Vrya'a, as it occurred some centuries prior, but the ones who put her in that position only regarded their own gain. Those ten Dreo'ys – the lords who served the Vrya'as –, who have corrupted the natural law, are the descendants of the New Rules' signers. To keep their family powerful, they had taken as their job to choose the most convenient Vrya'a to their objectives, betraying nature's course by serving a Vrya'a which was not their own; a Dreo'y could one serve one Lady during his whole life, he was destined to support her and her only. That's one point where the New Rules went against all nature.
My role in this centuries-long war seemed to be a small step, but it was a crucial one. I was meant to infiltrate the centre of the web of lies, deceive and corruption, and to get the most information out of it as I could. Delano taught me a code, through which I would transmit what I had learnt. Any step I did wrong might lead to a fatal end. The weight of my task suffocated me more times than none, and I had to leave the house I called mine to get some air.
That day Dark Fur was accompanying me to the market together with Cora, the maid who had tied my hair in my first practice. A few days later, I had found her cleaning my room and after sharing a few words, a friendship started to bloom. I trusted her as I had never trusted anyone before, not even Nam.
Nam. I sighed. He had gotten on well with Gwen, as I predicted. What I didn't predict was that Shira had plans for him, which involved him leaving to Swangard three days ago. Gwen was anxious and moody ever since, which was so off character. I guess, however, that it is only normal to be irritable when your soul mate is in danger, for the voyage to the remote, hidden country is nowhere near easy or safe.
Worry masking my thoughts I took small steps through the weekly bazaar. Cora and I stopped every once in a while, admiring the embroideries, the dresses and the shoes. Awing at the jewels and wistfully blinking the various regional sweets. At least I did all of those, Cora tried to passively accompany me, as it was a servant's way to behave.
For some unknown reason, I stopped at a stall where they sold weapons. And what fine pieces they were! From small daggers to enormous hammers: they all had a beauty of their own. However, my eyes couldn't stay away from a small dagger. It was made of a dark metal with built-in sapphires at the head, incrusted swirls framing the small, cold droplets. Glad I had taken some of the few golden coins I possessed, I bought it. For what I would need it, I didn't know; I just wanted it for its finery.
We carried on, eyeing potions, vegetables, leather manufacturers and, even goat and horse sellers… Somewhere around there must have been a bird seller, I sure did hear a parrot's cry.
I inhaled the stench of a sweaty market and smiled to myself. The smell of perspiration mixed with busy body odours made me think of a unity, a forged, damped one, but a whole out of everyone from everywhere.
All the while bustling sounds were made by the visitors, their faces telling many stories, their voices trying to word them out over the noise they themselves made.
I loved markets.
Back at the mansion, I sent Cora to drop my things in my room, while I rushed to Delano's office; I was late for our lesson.
However when I reached the room, I didn't encounter him. Shira was in his small office, seated at his usual couch. Her sapphire eyes were wide open, two blue pools of light. She sat upright, her features concentrated on what I presumed was not there. Her lips moved, but I heard no sound coming out. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and it seemed to be harder to do whatever she was doing by the second, as her expression tensed.
Suddenly, she clashed onto her seat, as if thrown into it. Her eyes were closed and a wrinkle of worry was visible between her eyebrows. I thought she had fallen asleep, for her breathing was deep and slow.
I was unsure of what to do. Should I wake her up? Should I call someone? Where is Delano? What was she doing? The questions criss-crossed my mind rapidly, but no answers followed. Luckily, one of my dilemmas was solved, when Delano opened the door. Obviously, he rushed towards Shira and held a hand over her forehead.
'How long has she been passed out?' He asked. Now there was something I thought to be never possible. Delano's impassiveness was gone and his face held worry lines. He did love her that much.
'Not long,' I replied, still unknowing.
He seemed heave a sigh, but he only did relax when she opened her eyes.
The sight of their gazing made me look away. I felt like an intruder in a bubble of love, which was not directed to me, but which they were sharing with each other. It was a warm embrace that needed no move, only a glance and soon the heat surrounded one, the cosiness wrapping one in velvety and comfortable feeling.
It was too much for me to bear and I was about to leave, when I heard her.
'It's time, Desdemona.'