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3.19. Crunei's Garden
🕑 Added 2022-10-01 18:14:38 +0000 UTCTegen had a complicated expression on his face when he took my hand. “Nephew,” he said.
The sound of street noise grew louder from up ahead; we’d soon be among people again. We’d have to pretend to be related again. I squeezed his hand to let him know I understood. Teila was just behind us, while Mumu and Haol trailed after her, their faces stormy.
They didn’t look like a couple on a date anymore. Instead, they were two hunters who... who’d been cheated by a merchant maybe? It didn’t matter exactly what, as long their story didn’t appear to involve chasing Borba or fighting the Healer’s Lodge.
Before we reached the street, two people ducked into our alley. I tensed, thinking they were affiliated with one of the groups searching for us, but they blew past without a second look. They seemed annoyed too.
They were soon followed by a small group of hunters also using the alley. None of them were familiar, although they nodded as they passed, and Tegen nodded back.
“Know them?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “Just being polite.”
The alley’s exit was like stepping into another world—it bustling motion and color and sound. I had no idea we were so close to the Albeitsoot. Three super-wide flatbeds, like the kind you might see attached to a train, were being pulled by teams of oxen. They were surrounded by a mix of hunters and soldiers on foot—somewhere between two or three dozen people—and the caravan filled the street so that all other traffic was pushed out to the edges. People and their carts jostled each other as they streamed past.
As Tegen and I paused to take in the spectacle, a few more people ducked into the alley to get around the jam. We weren’t the only ones watching either—the nearby merchants did too, as well as their families, servants, and apprentices, some of them from the upper levels of their buildings.
Tegen must’ve shared my worries for the crowd interfering with our we’re-not-really-together approach, because he pulled on my hand to indicate we should stay in place. I could just imagine the ruckus if someone were to accidentally bump into Camouflaged Teila.
We stood there as the flatbeds creaked past and I kept my free hand on my money pouch. Sure, I had the majority of my spending money strapped to the middle of my back, but that didn’t mean I was eager to get pickpocketed.
Tegen was... not exactly lost in thought—not with the way he paid attention to our surroundings—but he wasn’t himself either. If this were any other time, he would’ve been talking up a storm, explaining every little thing about the caravan.
It was about then I saw my first blond: a soldier with his hair tied back in a braid. A few others nearby had light-brown hair, but his was several shades lighter than them—almost the color of summer wheat.
“Nathlein,” Tegen said, “from north of Albei.”
“And his people were the ones who crossed the ocean, right?”
“Yes,” he answered, and then as if he couldn’t help himself: “It was hundreds of years ago. He is the same as that soldier you met.”
“Elinei.”
“That’s the one,” Tegen said.
The rest was silence until the caravan passed and the crowd dispersed. Then, he pulled us into motion, the two of us in our uncle-and-nephew roles. About a half minute later, Teila emerged from the alley, followed shortly by Mumu and Haol.
We traveled along the Albeitsoot for three blocks before Tegen gestured to a side street. The direction pointed us towards where we might expect to pick up Borba’s trail once he’d passed through the Intersection of the Assassins. Obviously, that wasn’t what it was really called, but the dumb name helped ease the anxiety I felt for the place.
All along the way, I didn’t see or smell anything unusual—just the faint scent of blood that seemed to be always present in Albei. Yuki didn’t pick up anything either, the two of consulting each other as we walked.
Our team traveled in ever-widening arcs for about an hour, moving steadily east until we reached the Geista district, to where the ‘stray peoples’ lived.
There wasn’t an official boundary—no wall or anything like that—but the style of the buildings changed noticeably, and there were a lot more stray people on the street.
Our formation had already been compromised by the walking back and forth we’d done, with Mumu and Haol struggling to appear natural as they followed Tegen and me. Our entrance into Geista made it even harder, though, since the non-stray folks on the street stood out.
About half of the people present appeared to be either stray or have some stray in them. I saw the tall and broad dolbecs, the blue nisaak with their lizard tails, and the crow-headed peltwei. The last were the least common, but they were also the most noticeable to me. Aslishtei had definitely left an impression.
We’d only walked for about half a block before Mumu and Haol caught up, and she signaled that we should move as a group. The disguise wasn’t working anymore, and was slowing us down to boot.
Frustration at our lack of progress rolled off of Mumu, but what could she do? She was stuck with me and my decision, and I wasn’t going to change my mind. I could be stubborn too.
With a handful of gestures, Mumu instructed Teila to stick close while Camouflaged, and for me to keep going.
“Trail discipline?” I asked in Signed Diaksh.
Mumu shook her head. “I want us together in case we need to respond quickly to something.”
That sounded sensible, so I turned back to searching for signs of Borba. A light drizzle fell shortly after, but I was already having zero luck finding anything. How much it’d matter wasn’t certain.
As we walked, I noted in the district’s architecture. The buildings appeared to come in primarily three types: square, gray-stone behemoths with ten-foot arched entries; tall, narrow homes made from light-colored wood and engraved with willowy decorative features; and rounded tower-like buildings rising four floors high, using the same gray stone as the first type.
The streets were as well organized as the rest of Albei, which was to say not very. The buildings were in good condition, though. A part of me had worried that this part of town would be the city’s ghetto.
There were also just as many people as elsewhere. They haggled with merchants, sat under canopies at the Albei equivalent of an open-air cafe—the first I’d seen in this world—and otherwise seemed to be moving around town with purpose.
The district’s population looked to be a fifty-fifty mix of stray and non-stray, with the place overall looking and sounding like a wonderful place to explore. Just like the Nathta district and Butchery too. The whole city called to me, but I couldn’t answer because of the damn hunt for Borba.
Yuki was disappointed too. There were so many new-interesting-delicious varieties of qi in the air, and all they could do was briefly sample them as we passed by.
In my mind, I cursed Borba and the Healer’s Lodge both. I had to ignore the nathlein, the stray people, the shops, the butchering and its products, and magics of all kinds because of them.
Soonest began, soonest ended, Yuki said.
Yeah, once we catch Borba, we’ll be able to explore to our hearts’ content. The healers will still be a problem, but at least we’ll have the luxury of time. Maybe we can even meet up with Uncle Kila for a tour.
That sounds wonderful.
It does sound good, doesn’t it? We just have to find Borba first.
###
We didn’t find Borba, but we did stumble across his qi. In spite of the rain and everything else, the scent of it came strongly from an alley ahead of us.
I immediately pointed, and signed, “Borba’s qi, close.”
“Wait,” Mumu responded before disappearing into Camouflage and padding towards the alley to peer within. She ducked inside.
The rest of us moved out of the way of traffic to surreptitiously string our bows.
Mumu came back to the alley’s entrance, and signed, “Clear for now. Follow carefully.”
The others couldn’t see her, so I relayed the instructions. I also whispered in case Ikfael could hear: “We might’ve found Borba’s trail.”
That confused the others until I gestured towards her statue in my backpack.
The alley was wide enough for a couple of dolbecs to comfortably walk past each other. No doors opened onto it from the adjacent buildings, but there were a few windows set high in the walls.
Mumu crouched about twenty-five yards ahead, at a crook in the alley where two new buildings began. She waited for us before slipping around the corner and sneaking ahead onc emore.
Past the crook, the alley continued for another fifteen yards before opening onto what looked like a shared courtyard. Mumu crouched at the exit, and past her were neat rows of planter boxes full of something leafy.
Common Kale (Plant)
Talents: Hardy
Okay, nothing special there, nor in any of the other boxes I checked.
Mumu signed, “Approach.” Then, she disappeared into the courtyard.
We snuck forward, and saw that the space was big—about forty yards by forty yards—with planters running in three parallel circles and a covered pavilion in the center. A handful of dolbec elders were gathered there to chat and... knit.
Stone buildings surrounded the courtyard on all sides, each with a porch furnished with tables and cushions began enough for dolbecs. Only one was currently occupied, though—the farthest to our right.
A dolbec elder sat in the middle of a small crowd attending to him. Their postures, movements, and spirits expressed concern, which was wise considering that the scent of Borba’s qi was coming from his direction. Just his qi—there was no sign of the monster himself.
I signed the information to my team, and felt Mumu’s scowl in response; her disappointment was palpable to my spirit eyes. Still, she understood that there was work to do, and she snuck back to our position.
She whispered, “Teila, Tegen, and Haol are to stay hidden. It's unlikely the dolbecs are involved, but Borba might’ve used them as bait in a trap. Eight is with me.”
When we signaled our understanding, she let her Camouflage drop, and strode towards the occupied porch. I jogged to catch up, then matched her pace. The two of us drew looks from the knitting elders, but the attention felt light, like we weren’t anything to be concerned about.
One pair of eyes lingered, and looking back, I saw:
Bruta the Horror of Crunei (Human, Dolbec, Dusk)
Talents: Broken Loyalty, Cutter, Savage, Tempered Rage
The expression on his face was mild enough, but I shuddered at his spirit’s disjointed state, and turned away. His attention remained a constant pressure against my back.
Ahead, the people occupying the porch noticed our approach, and they stood aside, so that the man in the middle could see us. He shared Bruta’s features, and the two could easily be brothers. But why was one knitting while the other was injured? I didn’t know, and wasn’t sure I cared. My goals were to treat the Siphon and learn as much as possible about Borba’s whereabouts. I didn’t have the time or inclination to get involved in another family’s drama.
The first step was another Status check:
Wusta the Horror of Crunei (Human, Dolbec, Dusk)
Talents: Broken Loyalty, Fierce, Sword or Death, Suppressed Rage
Holy hells, what was up with these people? Just what do you have to do to get a title like “The Horror of Crunei?” For two people to get it?
There’d been lots of ordinary folks in Albei—I’d seen them and their pair of ordinary talents—but every once in a while I came across hidden monsters like Bruta and Wusta.
The parallels in their names and talents convinced me they were either brothers or close cousins. I check the people around them, and a few of their names indicated family ties to one or the other.
Based on their talents, only a couple seemed to be fighters, although not of the same stature as Bruta and Wusta. The others possessed a mix of talents for cargo management, merchanting, or crafting goods.
“Be careful,” Mumu whispered as we approached the porch. “The one in the middle is dangerous.”
“You know him?” I asked.
She shook her head. “My Wild Sense tells me so.”
A woman stepped in our way, towering over us. Her voice was firm: “Who comes to Crunei’s Garden?”
I’d checked earlier along with the others, and her Status was:
Bleith Wustasdotter (Human, Dolbec)
Talents: Steadfast, Logistalogical, Busy Buddy
Mumu clapped her hands twice. “I am Mulallamu the Master of the Voorhei Hunter’s Lodge. This young boy beside me is my apprentice, Eight. We come in search of a murderer from our village who’s fled to Albei.”
The dolbecs eyed us, as they appeared to be waiting for Wusta... who didn’t seem to be in a hurry to respond. Instead, he said, “Crost, come forward.”
A young man—it was hard to gauge his age, but he was at least six feet tall and built like a linebacker—stepped out from behind the others. I’d missed him with my earlier scan.
Crost Bleithsson (Human, Dolbec)
Talents: Steadfast
Ugh, he’s not a young man—just a boy, not even ten-years old yet. And I thought I was big for my age.
Wusta asked him: “What does it mean when you see two hunters?”
The boy snapped to attention. “That there are three others hidden nearby.”
“At least three,” Wusta corrected.
“I understand and have learned,” Crost said. “Thank you, Teacher.” Then, he stepped back.
Wusta quirked his head at us, asking the question without having to.
“The rest of my team—” Mumu gestured behind us “—are keeping watch. As I said, we are hunting a murderer, one who has killed others of my lodge. We are simply being cautious.”
Wusta laughed. “To say a hunter is cautious is to say the same thing twice.”
“That is a fair assessment.” Mumu shrugged to hide her annoyance-hurry-tension. “We are here—”
“The reason is obvious,” Wusta said, interrupting. “I’ve encountered your murderer, haven’t I?”
Mumu looked to me, and I nodded in reply. While it was hidden by a pair of loose-fitting pants, a slash of rusty qi marked Wusta’s left hip.
“Yes,” she said. “His name is Borba, and he has a talent for absorbing the qi and abilities of those he attacks. We tracked the scent of his mark to you.”
“Ah, that it explains it then—we treated the wound, yet I continue to feel ill. Like I’ve been poisoned, but none of our curatives have worked.” Wusta interlaced his fingers as he considered us. “Well, well, the world is wide, and there are all kinds of talents in it. I assume you mean to bring Borba his death? He did, after all, kill hunters from your lodge.”
“Among others,” Mumu said, “but yes, he will die.”
Wusta sighed, and looked away as if we were too tiresome to behold. “What a waste. A talent like that can establish a dynasty.” He shifted in his seat to glance back at Mumu. “We could buy him from you—make sure he was properly punished, of course, pay off the debts owed for those he’d killed—and we’d also not his talents go to waste—”
Mumu cut him off. “Borba will die,” she said, emphasizing every word.
“Then how will you balance the damage he’s done?” Wusta said, his voice heavy.
“To you? We will remove his mark, so that it no longer afflicts you.”
“And?”
The muscles along Mumu’s jaw throbbed. “We will also provide financial compensation."
“Compensation? Compensation?” Wusta asked, mockery in his voice. “What good is compensation when blood is spilled. No, the only answer is more blood. That is how balances are paid.”
Wusta and Mumu locked eyes, with neither refusing to budge.
I raised my hand to get their attention. “Can I at least treat the Siphon while you two... ah... negotiate? The longer we leave it alone, the stronger Borba will get.”
Wusta broke off from the stare down to examine me. “Is your apprentice a hunter or a healer?”
“A hunter,” Mumu said, “one with a talent for qi.”
“How promising,” Wusta said, grinning with his teeth bared. “Come, little apprentice, do your work.” Then, he slipped his pants down to expose his thigh. There weren’t any signs of a physical wound, but Borba’s qi lingered on and under his skin.
It wasn’t anything Yuki and I hadn’t done before, but when I put my palms over the affected area, Yuki’s qi couldn’t penetrate the skin. “Ah, you need to relax your guard. My qi needs to enter y our body in order to treat you.”
Wusta’s reply was a heavily-lidded look, but then, as if a door suddenly opened, Yuki’s qi soaked into his thigh.
“Where were you when he cut you?” I asked. “We’ll need to know, so that we can continue tracking him.”
“Do all your apprentices speak out of turn?” Wusta asked Mumu.
Mumu might still be pissed at me, but that didn’t mean she’d put up with someone badmouthing me. “For the wilderness,” she said, “it’s wise to nurture independence.”
Wusta snorted. “To each their own path, then.” Then, a couple minutes later, he added: “That does feel better. The illness is receding.”
Qi flared under my hands as Wusta circulated his qi through his body. The pattern was impossible to discern, though, not without Yuki entering into his meridians. I would’ve been lying to say we weren’t tempted—even from outside we could tell the spell was different anything we’d encountered previously—but both Yuki and I knew that that was a slippery slope. And besides, who knew, maybe Wusta was testing to see how I’d react.
“It’d help if we knew what qi spells you use,” I said, “so that we can plan accordingly. Borba may have stolen—”
Wusta’s hand was as big as a dinner plate; it covered my whole face when he grabbed my head. He didn’t exert any strength—he didn’t need to. The threat came through nicely without it, thank you very much.
“Never ask a dusk-sworn his abilities. To do so is tread on sacred ground. Is that clear?”
“I understand.”
The hand released me, and I fought to keep my expression neutral and not let any of my alarm show. My mouth kept shut too. Mumu, I noticed, was doing the same, but her eyes were locked on Wusta and her hand clenched her spear’s haft. None of the dolbecs reacted, though. They were apparently waiting for the treatment to finish before resuming the negotiations. So, the time passed in a mix of tense-unconcerned-patient silence, depending on who you happened be, until finally Yuki finished, and I gladly went to stand beside Mumu.
Wusta stood up to hike up his pants, and Jesus, the man was nine-foot tall at the minimum. He also moved well for an old man. No wonder Mumu’s Wild Sense triggered.
He worked his hip. “Yes, that’s better. Much better.”
“Good,” Mumu said. A bit of her tension eased. “Now, about Borba.”
“I recall the village of Voorhei. Your hunters are fond of their spears.”
“Yes?” Mumu said, unsure of the tangent.
“It’s a useful tool, like any weapon,” Wusta said, “but it loses the pleasure of seeing the fear and hatred in your enemy’s eyes. Oh, I understand that there are paths requiring it, but it not a favorite of mine or my Path to Perfection. Perhaps... an exhibition might be enough to convince me otherwise. In exchange, it would balance the debt between us.”
“You want us to duel?” Mumu asked, incredulous.
But Wusta laughed. “If we fought, there’d be blood. No, I’m thinking of a spar between our apprentices.”
Mumu scowled. “Our Eight is not a bargaining piece.”
“Then it will be blood,” Wusta said. “Are you sure?”
“How about I just show you our spear forms?” I offered.
“Forms are nothing compared to the pressure of a spar. Only then does the truth of one's skill truly emerge.” Wusta gestured, and Crost came forward to stand just behind him. “The choice is yours, hunters. Do the apprentices fight or do we?”
Mumu’s hand clenched and unclenched, so I reached up to take it. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.”
She might’ve been angry with me before, but there was nothing but concern in her eyes now. “It’s dangerous—more than you think.”
“More than the King?”
Mumu snorted in spite herself. “Not that, at least.”
“Then it’ll be fine. I’ll be cautious.”
The feeling in her eyes changed: from concern to... regret. There was an awareness of her limitations, and an anxious desire to improve. And behind all those things was care—a need to protect.
Yes, we’d recently fought, but she was still my friend. A flawed one, perhaps, but then no one was perfect. I knew that well enough. We’d put aside our spat in order to deal with Wusta.
“I can trust you with this,” Mumu said, not a question but a statement recognizing our relationship.
“I’m a hunter, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are,” Mumu said, and the hint of a smile tugged at the edges of her lips.
I turned to Wusta. “Just one question before we start—it’s been killing me not knowing the answer—just what exactly is Crunei’s Garden?”
“Did you really enter this place not knowing with whom you’d be dealing?” He laughed in the face of our impudence. “Ours is the strongest caravan team in all of Albei. We are the ones you contract to make the journey to Dolbec’s Rock.”
Okay, that sounded impressive, and from the look of respect in Mumu’s eyes, it likely was.
“And this,” Wusta said, gesturing to Crost, “is my prized grandson. Please do test him, Apprentice to Mulallamu. Show us your village’s spear.”
Comments
3seed
I might quote you on that. :)
Adrian Gorgey
Oooh, very cool. Always be wary of old warriors... if they've lived that long, it says a lot for their skill. Or their ruthlesness.
