Cuillean picked up a small ball of snow and patted it together in his hands, watching Melanctha as she walked beside the wagon, talking to the boys that were Ashera's brothers literally.
She had no idea he was coming towards her, but Ashera looked at him, "…Melanctha, watch out!"
"Oh—Ooo, that's cold!—Cuill!" she shrieked, ice frost in her dress down her back. She took off after him, Cuillean side walking to avoid her and laughing at her outrage.
"Papa, run!" Cagney cried, giggling with Lithous and the other children.
"Cuill," Melanctha scooped up some snow and formed it into a ball, dashing after him. They laughed, Melanctha shrieked, sliding in the wet snow in the vale at the bottom of the mountains they had left after a morning long walk once the passage was cleared and they had rested through the night.
She flung the snow at him and missed, "…That was a bad shot, I'll get you the next one—whoo!" she shouted and ducked his own aim, "…Missed me!"
Cuillean was struck in the back and turned, seeing Aliba readjust her grip on the reins, "…Get him, Mel!"
Melanctha wound up and threw a snowball, skimming over Cuillean's crests, "…He's too quick!"
"Fake him out," Aliba called with Lithous hooting.
Cuillean charged at Melanctha with another snowball, Melanctha shrieking and turning to run.
She slipped in a puddle of slush and took a dive into the snow—Cuillean caught hold of her waist and flung her upwards, landing on his back with her on top of him.
"You cannot be beaten…Not with my clumsy feet," she laughed breathlessly on top of his chest, "…That was not nice of you—"
He pulled her down to kiss him.
Naour's dilean ruffled its crest feathers, its beak partly open to utter a waiting hiss at the nearby karos, "…Looks like they're having fun," he said, the thane on the karo out of the dilean's reach mute to his observation, "…Nice day to have to break up a family…You don't think we should wait for darkness?…"
"I have places to be," Relind said, "…The sooner we collect him the better…" He raised his arm…
Shooting out with a spray of broken snow, three karos and their riders took a jagged line down the wet rock face, sun pushing the shadows of the Horn up towards the western hills.
Naour watched the creatures bolt and slip and gain their footing again, making a wide curve towards the distant wagon.
Cuillean stopped kissing Melanctha, "…I want you alone so badly, Mitali…"
"We have children watching," she peeped back at the wagon…
The boys had covered their eyes, Cagney giggling, "…They were kissing…"
Melanctha looked back at Cuillean, "…You'll have to watch out for me now…I'll get you back for throwing snow down my—" Her eyes squinted at something beyond his head on the snow, "…Cuill, get up, get up!"
Cuillean needed no further urging…He saw the terror in her eyes and was lifting her off the ground with him, running back to the wagon and pushing her inside, "…Stay under the furs!" he said and turned.
Running to the front of the wagon, he moved Aliba over, "…Hah!"
The rookers took off at his call and his tug on the reins, the whip flicking at their backs.
Out on the morning tainted slopes of the Horn mountains, a chase picked up hot…Three black and white karos whipped over the flattening snowy ground, a wagon making its mark in the passage a mile ahead through the snow and pulled by sprinting dileans.
The animals were gaining, that much was clear from those who rode at a slower pace from behind.
Cuillean was chasing the dileans' haunches with his calls and cries, then suddenly the wagon began to turn…A slow arc, but gradually coming about to face the three sprinters.
Lithous held the rifle steady, its nozzle on the end of the rear rail, "…Been awhile since I handled one, but hold your breaths and don't elbow me."
"Aim for the furthest one back," Cuillean said, "…If you can hit him, the others may balk."
Melanctha, Cagney, Ashera and the boys hid under the furs covering the bottom of the wagon, listening, breathing hard, feeling the fright of the moment…Aliba turned herself in her seat, watching the three dots in the distance, "…How the hekla did they catch up so fast…"
"Karos," Cuillean said, "…Hard to tame, unpredictable, but fast and dangerous to both rider and ridden."
"Don't miss, Lith—"
The rifle kicked back, Lithous's shoulder stopping it.
Up higher on the slopes, Naour and Relind heard the pop.
One of the riders in the farthest flank on the right fell with the tumble of the karo.
"That was a hit," Lithous said, lining up again, "…Not what I wanted to kill though…Sweet mithra, guide my aim," he blew out, his breath grazing the metal by his finger.
"They have a rifle," Relind said, "…That changes things…" He could see the fallen thane stand up by the wounded karo, "…Come back," he whispered.
Cuillean heard the next explosion from the gun, this time the bullet taking a spray of red from the karo next farthest back, "…Oops, didn't mean to hit the animal," Lithous licked his upper lip, "…Must be real rusty, I am…"
"You'll do me favor by not killing anyone…"
Melanctha and Aliba looked at Cuillean, "…They're coming after us!"
Cuillean did not take his eyes off the one karo closing alone, "…They are colleagues of mine, most assuredly they will do everything to prevent me and Melanctha from escaping, but they are friends, or were for a time…Kill their animals—"
The karo fell after the third shot…Cuillean looked down at Lithous, "…Another miss?…"
Lithous chuckled, "…Nah, I think that should slow them up."
Naour inwardly cheered…All karos on the low slopes were down, the riders standing…The wagon turned and began to be drawn off once again.
He said to Relind, "…Guess we'll have to let them go…Three thanes on foot and there's you, me, and a handful of others to help give them a lift home…"
Relind watched the wagon move over a hill and out of sight, "…Kiross," he sighed and turned about on his karo, "…Retrieve the others…We will have to track them through the cities."
"How come you don't have any rifles," Naour said, turning to follow on his dilean.
"We do…We intend to use them when we need to execute someone…Not Cuillean."
Melanctha looked out from the fur blankets, "…Are we going to be safe?…"
Cuillean was up front driving, "…For now…They will think twice about approaching again with a rusty shooter on the wagon…"
Lithous curled up in his blanket furs, "…I'll have to practice more…Send more of them beasts…Not a pleasant looking creature…"
"They are not," Cuillean took the speed up, wanting to get out of there if in case whoever had been chasing them should continue.
NABATOR
The first city they came to was Nabator…Cuillean got out of the wagon, walking alongside the dileans.
The city of Nabator was slightly bigger it seemed than Karmuta. The site was situated between two large hills that might be considered mountainous to some…Their wagon had come through the shallow vale between the first and second slopes of the hill facing their arrival.
The weather was dry and brisk, compared to several days of cold rain and sleet.
Melanctha was hungry and looking for what there was left to eat in their own sacks of food…She broke off some dried bread and munched a little, passing more to the children.
Cuillean was looking lean and fit—untouchable it seemed by the long days of travel, cold nights in which they had all huddled with him in the wagon and the dileans blocking the exits—but he felt the gnaw of hunger and dehydration…He was looking for food stalls first and considering what they would use to barter with.
The layout of Nabator was as Lithous had warned—mostly like Karmuta, except the city did not work in animals and husbandry and textiles…They worked with wood, and to Cuillean's surprise, the middle land between and around Nabator and its neighbors were richly covered in trees.
Cuillean stared at an axe by a woodworker's stall off the main road they were moving down, towards the inner heart of the city…He looked at the drell inside the shade of the shop who was carving a bust made of wood…
"Do you need labor," Cuillean asked him, "…I am in town with my family and looking for work…"
Melanctha heard Cuillean's voice and asked Aliba, "…What's happening?"
Aliba shook her hand, listening.
"…What experience you have," the drell's name was Ragus.
"I can cut down trees, lift, move wood, I have a wagon, but it would displace my precious passengers to use it…I can make things with my hands…My father taught me some of carpentry and wood sculpting…"
"You have any tools?"
"A knife," Cuillean said, "…Not much more besides my strength."
The drell considered him, "…What are you hoping to make…"
"Right now, food, water, quarters…It would be up to you to decide if monet might be considered, but I need to house my family and relatives if I am to be of use…"
"You can let them stay around the corner…There's a labor camp for folk looking for that stuff…Come back when you're situated, name's Ragus."
"Cuillean," he bowed his head and shoulders…
Ragus eyed him queerly, "…Where you from?…"
"The eastern shore."
"Why you in Nabator?"
"Freedom," Cuillean said.
Ragus looked at Aliba…She looked back at him with a flat-eyed stare.
"Hi," she gave a curt wave to be polite after Cuillean looked at her over his shoulder, "…Aliba."
Ragus cleared his throat, "…The mistress?" he asked.
"No, she's in back…I'm the sister."
Ragus nodded, a light coming over his face…Cuillean saw it and waited a bit longer to see what the effect might put in their favor.
"You have a big group?" Ragus asked, a bit more helpful in tone.
Cuillean smiled, "…An old drell, my wife and her sister, four children all my own…"
He could lie like a stone.
Cuillean concluded, "…Myself…"
"Nine, and the dileans," Ragus considered the rookers, then his eyes went back to Aliba…
"Actually, I have a shed in the back—not a shed," he quickly corrected, "…It's a house, small enough I use it as a large shed but I can let you situate yourselves in it, mind the tools and such…You can pen the dileans nearby, I have a friend with a ring they can hang out in…Do you need help?"
Cuillean's smile did not lessen as Aliba made a soft snort.
"Setting me up to be wooed by that woodshaver," Aliba cussed, "…Gonna make me into a trophy wife, damn you, Cuillean…"
"We need a place to stay for a time, food and water…I will work and make good on my offer to Ragus, and he will hopefully prove a good host…Woodworker is not a dishonorable trade, and he is not Lossa…"
Aliba glared at him after straightening out the wall disarray of woodcutting tools, "…You owe me big time…He proposes to me, what am I to do, say yes?…He's got that moonstruck look about him—"
Ashera giggled with Melanctha, "…Ragus is rather handsome," Melanctha said, "…Cuillean's right, it could be worse…We'll honor your sacrifice to keep us housed and warm," she bounced Cagney on her thigh, sitting in a chair half-finished and left discarded for whatever reason.
Lithous was poking around, touching and turning tools and abandoned projects…The smell of wood and dust was sweet…The "shed" itself exuded a cozy warmth.
Cuillean brought in the furs and leftover provender and water sacks, the flame catch and pot, "…I am going to find the ring for Tille and Kalare, I will be back."
Cuillean kissed his wife and Cagney, patting Ashera and her brothers each on the top of their crests.
Ragus was coming from the back exit of his shop towards the house, "…Ready to drop off those dileans?…"
"I was leaving to do that…"
"This way…"
Cuillean and Ragus led Tille and Kalare to a nearby neighbor, a tall drell Cuillean met as Thaga…He looked at Cuillean with some reservation, but after talking with Ragus, a deal was made and the dileans were penned.
"You running from something," Thaga said as Ragus had run to grab a tool he had bartered for the pen's use.
"I am," Cuillean said, "…and so far I have enjoyed it…"
Thaga considered him, then chuckled, "…Ragus says you have a wife…Sure she thinks the same of you too."
That was not what Cuillean meant, but rather having Thaga think he was trying to avoid his wife by working while he was traveling would be better than the truth…
Which was not altogether less a concern in Nabator.
They returned to the house and Cuillean checked in with everyone…Lithous asked Ragus what he made that he could be of use with, and Ragus learned Lithous would upholster furniture, but he could be handy with sanding…The old drell had a good grip still in his hands.
Melanctha and Aliba had made the large shed as homy as they could with the help of Ashera and the boys…Cagney got into the half-finished rocking chair and tried to saw it off its bottom rails.
Melanctha had to stop him before he toppled over.
"How long you think you'll be staying," Ragus asked politely as he and Cuillean traced some marks onto a board that Ragus had whittled down as thin as he could, "…Just so I can be knowing."
"Just long enough to have a rest, I don't think a few days longer than a week," Cuillean said, looking up, "…If you need us to move out before then—"
"No, no…I been through the travel before when I had my wife with me…She was taken by a cold, she was…Didn't get better because the medicine she needed was supposedly something in the rocky lands over by the water…"
"Rocky lands…What water," Cuillean asked.
"The Bearchan," Ragus shrugged, "…That's what Thaga's told me…He may have visited once or twice, he's from that sort of area."
"What became of your wife's body…"
"Burned it on a pyre when she was long expired…Ashes to the sky, they say," Ragus brought his eyes up. "Kind of reminds me of her, your wife's sister…They from the same mother?…They got different colors…No complaints, and I'm not trying to be lewd or anything rude like that…Just got me thinking."
"Aliba has had her own hardships," Cuillean said, "…She will not be here long as she will travel with us, I should think…You might ask her if you wish to speak with her more…It may help with your healing."
Ragus looked sharply at him, "…I don't need healing by no woman."
"My apologies, she thought you were interested and I assumed poorly you were expressing an interest after saying your wife left you empty…"
Ragus stared with a pall about his features, "…She expressed interest in my interest?"
"Perhaps I have said too much," Cuillean studied the grain of the fibers and the pliability, moving the board off the table and measuring its length, "…I can make this thinner if you have a hairsplitter."
"You can?…"
"Yes."
Cuillean sat by a long workbench with legs that were joined to the narrow width of wood and used a thin saw he began to make cuts through the middle of the board…It really was quite time consuming, but the cuts were so exact and the work so careful that by the end of an hour, he had two perfect sister boards and could add to Ragus's stockpile—which was bought up quickly when a customer passed, saw the boards and their quality and had need of such supply, taking out a purse and ordering these.
"You do have some experience," Ragus chuckled, dropping the coin bits into a purse and weighing it on a scale, then reducing some from the purse and tossing these bits to Cuillean's hand—the thane had been concentrating on more of the fine cuts of Ragus's thicker boards he intended to sell, but now could sell at double, some even triple what they used to be—his hand caught the bits without Cuillean taking another cut or being caught off guard. "You have some fine reflexes…Sorry about that throw, I didn't see you had started…"
"Good reflexes help with felling trees," Cuillean said, taking the hard focus off him, "…Good eyes you have too."
Ragus nodded, considering something, but turned to his books to log the earnings.
Cuillean pocketed the coin bits and did not break from his concentration again.
That night Ragus invited them to one of his neighbor's dinners, "…They like to dance a bit, after eating…Helps with digestion," he shrugged.
Aliba stared at Melanctha after being shouldered gently by the drellahna.
Cuillean smelled of wood and dust now in addition to his usual scent…He bathed his hands, arms, face, tebris, and brushed his teeth in a bucket of water pulled from a spring well down the street.
Ragus nodded at him, "…That is the queerest thing I ever saw…What are you doing to your mouth?"
Cuillean took the notched brush out of his mouth and looked at him, "…It is important to mind the bones of the mouth…A wyrrtun without fangs cannot be useful to itself."
Ragus looked at the small stick in his hands with bristles on the end, "…Can I see that?"
Cuillean held it out for him, "…I prefer not to let others handle it, but please look…You might consider making them and showing their worth."
"You tie the back-end of what to that to make it stand straight out?…"
"The hairs are actually from grass…It is called serliv, and it retains its shape and structure…I carry it with me always."
Melanctha chuckled, "…It's his weapon of choice against himself."
She had one too, however, and Cuillean had made one for Cagney.
"You all do have nice smiles," Ragus looked at each of them, "…The others don't…"
"Not everyone embraces the habit," Cuillean said, "…but I shall have to encourage the others again."
Aliba rolled her eyes, "…I'd rather learn how to use a rifle proper like Lithous."
Ragus looked at her, then at the old drell.
Lithous sighed, "…I'll show you, you just never asked…"
"I didn't know you were good with one."
Cuillean interrupted, "…We should get going if we wish not to be late to the dinner…Are you sure they would not mind all of us appearing, Ragus?"
"They're hunters, they trap in the woods about here, you'll not be noticed if you take some food for yourself…Winter comes and it's hard…We're not special above each other, so we tend to help the neighborhood out…It's good for business too…I can pay my taxes on a few kind words and offers of friendship…Netting up, we call it."
Cuillean nodded, "…Sounds like a decent way to be among neighbors," he hid his brush inside a fold in his cloak—where he carried many other hidden secrets among the thick material and its layers. If not for the unique embellishments across its inner lining, these would have been discovered by anyone handling the material…A thane used many layers to hide what truly existed.
Cagney reached for his father, being lifted into his arms.
They set out from the woodshop, down two blocks…The walk was a bit more pleasant in Nabator, poor but with a rustic elegance and less animal odors and muck…The ground did have a cool firmness to it from the chilling day and evening now was stretched over it like a blanket.
Cuillean admired the homes…They were constructed well, or at least better than what he had seen of the living conditions in Karmuta, and beyond the doorways and shuttered windows were glows from what hearths had a fire.
He could hear some singing, and the call now and then of an animal repeating its chatter across the neighborhood.
Cagney gazed about, wide-eyed from his father's shoulder, his hands on the scratchy cloak and a finger against his father's tebris, which lay calmly to his throat…Melanctha walked quietly with Ashera and her brothers, Nakera and Pheldis, whose eyes shined as they heard the voices of other children growing.
Cuillean paused, "…I should check Kalare and Tille," he said, passing Cagney to Melanctha, "…Wait here," and he hurried off back in the direction of Thaga's home.
Ragus had stopped with Lithous and looked at Aliba, then nervously glanced away, waiting with them.
At Thaga's home, Cuillean uncovered a strange sight…Thaga was in the pen, talking to the dileans.
He heard him muttering a strange language to them, and as Cuillean listened, it had a sing-song quality.
He did not interrupt, but checked the rookers from where he stood by the corner of the cottus, and turned away when the dileans churred back at Thaga…Two other dileans were in the pen with them, and they looked much younger…These were nestled together in the dirt.
Thaga held up a cupped hand covered in a glove, and from his hand the dileans ate, all four of them, one by one.
Cuillean slipped away unseen, assured the food was given to the four, and not only to his pair…Poison was on his mind, but Thaga did not strike him as uncouth right then.
Rejoining his party, Cuillean nodded, "…Thaga was feeding them," he said to Ragus for the benefit of the others, "…He did not see me visit, they looked in good care and I did not wish to alarm him."
"He's good with the dileans," Thaga said, "…A bit strange he is…He talks to them."
"I talk to my animals too," Aliba said, "…That ain't strange."
"Thaga doesn't…" Ragus hesitated, not wanting to point out his friend might be a strange and misunderstood drell, "…You'll have to ask him about his handling of the dileans…It's fascinating, I think…He talks to them differently, is all…It works for the beasts…I seen some rowdy creatures go to be housed by him and come out a little calmer for their owners."
Cuillean nodded, "…Maybe when I visit tomorrow I will do that."
They arrived at the dinner location, and a fire was in the middle, tables set out and on these some generous servings of cooked meats and local fare. Melanctha could feel her mouth salivating at the smell, "…Oh, that looks blissful…"
The children ran over and reached towards the platters—
"Wait there now," a drellahna raised what looked like a spit to ward them off, "…Who are you…"
Cagney and Ashera, Nakera and Pheldis all froze, their eyes wide in their faces of different years…The effect was so comical the drellahna laughed.
"You clean your hands before you go pulling the meat off the grub?" Her gold eyes raised to the adults joining them, and she smiled in a pleased way when she saw Cuillean's face emerge in the glow of the fire beside her, "…Well, I can see who Papa is…Where's the mama?"
Cuillean introduced Melanctha, "…My beautiful wife," he nodded then to the drellahna, "…We are guests of Ragus…If we should leave—"
"Don't be like that," the drellahna raised the spit to her shoulder, "…We got plenty…My husband doesn't care for feeding children…It don't bother him at all…You look like you might eat everything, maybe more than what you can fit in those hands of yours…"
Melanctha smiled uneasily, "…You mentioned the host, your husband, may we meet him?…"
At that point Ragus intervened, "…Don't mind Alara," he stepped forward into the glow, "…She scares everyone who comes into the parties…She's just a dramatic sort," he chuckled as the drellahna put her arms on his shoulders and chest, "…She likes to touch everybody."
"Is that Ragus!" called a big and burly drell swinging over with a mug for himself and another he pushed into Ragus's chest, moving him off his wife, "…You been hiding from us, Alara, go get the guests feeding," he had quite the voice and it was thunderous but jovial…
Ashera giggled and the bright gray eyes of Aligar Amois fell to her young face, "…Who are you?" he asked, totally spellbound—a bit dramatic himself, Cuillean concluded…Alara, if she was as Ragus described, was perfect for him.
"My name is…" Ashera looked quickly at Cuillean, Melanctha, Aliba, "…I'm Ashera…This is my uncles and these are my aunts…" Ashera had adopted the strategy to seem like one extended family.
Aligar gave her a dark appraisal, "…Ashera, mighty mithra of fair and wise knowledge," he knelt and supplicated himself to her in a pronate bow, the children squealing, "…I am honored that the mithra should disguise herself and reveal herself to me and my wife at our humble dinner…Please forgive a beggar and his wife for hosting such poor meal to one so glorious."
Cuillean could not help but smile, "…The meal does not look unfit for kings and queens, much less goddesses."
Aligar tilted his head and rose, coming to stand head to head with Cuillean, "…Aya, and you do not look fit to be a poor family's husband and guide, but that of a mithra's escort herself…You're not from here, that is plain to see, but the fare will be to dine and dance with us, you will tell a story, Sered."