Poisonwell
Page 45
“That was a dark night,” Paedrin said softly. “We’ve been from one danger to the next.”
Baylen nodded sagely, looking nonplussed by the storm. “Storms are unpredictable. They are vast powers that none of us can control. It’s wise to be wary of them.”
The light was now totally vanquished by the haboub. It had scarcely been past noon and now it was as dark as midnight. Paedrin had never seen such a transformation in so short a time. He shook his head in surprise, grateful he had his second sight. Closing his eyes, he could sense where everyone was sitting. It was like seeing ghost-shapes in his mind, and he could tell who was who by their posture and size. Hettie hugged her knees, resting her cheek on her arm. He wished he was sitting closer to her. She looked like she needed comforting. He was grateful Kiranrao was farther from her than he was.
“Of all the lands I have visited,” Paedrin said, “I’ve decided that I don’t want to live here.”
“Where then? Silvandom?”
“No. Nor Kenatos either. I feel a duty to restore the Shatalin temple. There may be some Kishion to evict, but that craggy mountain is calling to me. The lessons must be taught again.”
“Will you only allow Bhikhu? Or maybe I should be more precise. Vaettir-born?”
“I will teach any who wish to learn,” Paedrin answered.
“I would be very interested,” Baylen said. “I’m not sure I will ever be able to float . . . no matter how much I hold my breath.”
“I’d welcome you there. You have no wish to return to Alkire?”
“I was orphaned in Kenatos. What I’ve heard is it’s smoky, cold, and a place you’d get lung rot. They’ve always craved a better climate and offered to help rid the woods of the Preachán to claim a better land. They’ll pay for it, over time. The Preachán won’t stay defeated.”
“I’ve been to Havenrook,” Paedrin said distastefully. “It will take many years to make that place livable again.”
“Cruithne are patient.”
Paedrin found the conversation had helped calm his nerves. He was grateful to Baylen for instigating it. “You said that when you were a boy, Aboujaoude helped you. What was the situation?”
Baylen sniffed loudly. The air was thick with dust. The camels moaned with discomfort outside. “It’s of no consequence.”
“Tell me.”
“You’ll probably be disappointed. It’s not much of a tale.”
“Your reluctance to tell me only heightens my anticipation. It must involve a girl.”
Baylen snorted.
Paedrin lowered his voice. “I hit the mark then. Tell me. There is nowhere else we are going to go.”
“I’ll preface it by saying that I was very young . . .”
“And she was higher than your station. Let me guess . . . the daughter of a—”
“Baker. Yes, the daughter of a baker.” Baylen’s voice was very low. “Not nobility, surely. I was one of the many urchins who roamed the streets. But there was this baker’s shop. We would all smell it when we passed by. I could see her in the window. She was a tiny thing . . . probably six.”
“Six?”
“I was eight. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”
“I’m sorry. Go on.”
“She had long blond hair full of curls. She always had a serious look on her face. Aeduan girl . . . very pretty. She was the pride of the baker. You could see it in his eyes.” His voice was still low, but Paedrin could hear the memories seeping into the telling. “I was just a child, but I was hungry. Not just for the bread. I hungered for what she had. A family. I just wanted to be inside that bakery. I daydreamed that when I got older, I would carry sacks of flour for the family. I would sweep the stoop. I just wanted to be part of it, in some small way. I don’t think that little girl ever noticed me staring through the window.” His voice trailed off.
“The leader of my little band of urchins . . . he was a rough fellow from Stonehollow. His name was Drew. He was big . . . bigger than me though I was still stout for my age. I think he saw me looking in that window, over and over. He had a bit of cruelty to him, let’s say. One stormy day, when we were hungry and hadn’t found anything we could trade for bread, he suggested we rob that bakery.” He sighed heavily. “We had done that now and then, when we were desperate to eat. But I couldn’t stomach it. Not that bakery. Not where the little girl lived. To them, it was just another bullying. But I think Drew knew how I felt—at some level. He told me to do it.”
Baylen nodded sagely, looking nonplussed by the storm. “Storms are unpredictable. They are vast powers that none of us can control. It’s wise to be wary of them.”
The light was now totally vanquished by the haboub. It had scarcely been past noon and now it was as dark as midnight. Paedrin had never seen such a transformation in so short a time. He shook his head in surprise, grateful he had his second sight. Closing his eyes, he could sense where everyone was sitting. It was like seeing ghost-shapes in his mind, and he could tell who was who by their posture and size. Hettie hugged her knees, resting her cheek on her arm. He wished he was sitting closer to her. She looked like she needed comforting. He was grateful Kiranrao was farther from her than he was.
“Of all the lands I have visited,” Paedrin said, “I’ve decided that I don’t want to live here.”
“Where then? Silvandom?”
“No. Nor Kenatos either. I feel a duty to restore the Shatalin temple. There may be some Kishion to evict, but that craggy mountain is calling to me. The lessons must be taught again.”
“Will you only allow Bhikhu? Or maybe I should be more precise. Vaettir-born?”
“I will teach any who wish to learn,” Paedrin answered.
“I would be very interested,” Baylen said. “I’m not sure I will ever be able to float . . . no matter how much I hold my breath.”
“I’d welcome you there. You have no wish to return to Alkire?”
“I was orphaned in Kenatos. What I’ve heard is it’s smoky, cold, and a place you’d get lung rot. They’ve always craved a better climate and offered to help rid the woods of the Preachán to claim a better land. They’ll pay for it, over time. The Preachán won’t stay defeated.”
“I’ve been to Havenrook,” Paedrin said distastefully. “It will take many years to make that place livable again.”
“Cruithne are patient.”
Paedrin found the conversation had helped calm his nerves. He was grateful to Baylen for instigating it. “You said that when you were a boy, Aboujaoude helped you. What was the situation?”
Baylen sniffed loudly. The air was thick with dust. The camels moaned with discomfort outside. “It’s of no consequence.”
“Tell me.”
“You’ll probably be disappointed. It’s not much of a tale.”
“Your reluctance to tell me only heightens my anticipation. It must involve a girl.”
Baylen snorted.
Paedrin lowered his voice. “I hit the mark then. Tell me. There is nowhere else we are going to go.”
“I’ll preface it by saying that I was very young . . .”
“And she was higher than your station. Let me guess . . . the daughter of a—”
“Baker. Yes, the daughter of a baker.” Baylen’s voice was very low. “Not nobility, surely. I was one of the many urchins who roamed the streets. But there was this baker’s shop. We would all smell it when we passed by. I could see her in the window. She was a tiny thing . . . probably six.”
“Six?”
“I was eight. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”
“I’m sorry. Go on.”
“She had long blond hair full of curls. She always had a serious look on her face. Aeduan girl . . . very pretty. She was the pride of the baker. You could see it in his eyes.” His voice was still low, but Paedrin could hear the memories seeping into the telling. “I was just a child, but I was hungry. Not just for the bread. I hungered for what she had. A family. I just wanted to be inside that bakery. I daydreamed that when I got older, I would carry sacks of flour for the family. I would sweep the stoop. I just wanted to be part of it, in some small way. I don’t think that little girl ever noticed me staring through the window.” His voice trailed off.
“The leader of my little band of urchins . . . he was a rough fellow from Stonehollow. His name was Drew. He was big . . . bigger than me though I was still stout for my age. I think he saw me looking in that window, over and over. He had a bit of cruelty to him, let’s say. One stormy day, when we were hungry and hadn’t found anything we could trade for bread, he suggested we rob that bakery.” He sighed heavily. “We had done that now and then, when we were desperate to eat. But I couldn’t stomach it. Not that bakery. Not where the little girl lived. To them, it was just another bullying. But I think Drew knew how I felt—at some level. He told me to do it.”
