Rocalla's Saga: Arrival

18: The Market Square and Mariyiybha’s Home —

1054 Kyabalaka 1

A rough hand jostles me awake. “It’s dawn,” says the innkeeper. “If you really don’t want questions, you might want to go up to your room. People will be coming down soon.”

“Thank you,” I mutter, and push myself to a sitting position.

“She can stay with you, today,” he says, indicating Elanor.

“Thanks,” I say.

We gather our stuff together and walk up the stairs. Dierdra takes her pack and goes to her room. I take Elanor to my chamber.

“Come in, you can rest here,” I say.

“Thanks,” she says. “I can change into some dry clothes at last.”

“I don’t think that mine will fit you.”

“I have a spare set in my pack; it’s still dry.”

“My pack is soaked through. I’m happy my journal wasn’t in it.”

“Rocalla, thanks for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome,” I say. “Go ahead and change while I pick out some dry clothes for myself.”

Once I find something suitable, I remove my damp stockings, then pull my dress and chemise up over my head. I am reaching up to untie my breast band when I hear Elanor gasp.

“What is that on your legs?” she asks.

“What do you mean? I’m just getting some bruises. It’s from falling on the rocks next to the shore early this morning,” I say.

“No, I’m talking about all of the stuff drawn on your body. There’s a bird on your thigh and a flower on your arm.”

“Oh, those are just some of my tattoos,” I say. “It is part of Teidhwar Zariinyeida culture. Everyone on the islands has them.”

“I have never seen anyone who would want to be marked that way. Why do you do it? What do they mean?”

“The image on my bicep is a rocalla flower; it’s the blossom of a vine that grows in the interior jungles of our islands. That flower is what I was named after. The bird on my thigh is an albatross, a southern bird that navigates the open ocean. The pattern below it represents the fourteen stars in the constellation of the same name; we use the stars to steer our ships across the open seas.”

“I don’t know anything about the stars, other than that they are there. May I take a closer look at your tattoos?” Elanor asks quietly.

“Yes,” I say. “There are more on my left side. I have a sea turtle on my other thigh, which is a symbol of fertility, long life, and good fortune in our culture. My other arm is circled with three rings of waves.”

“When did you get all of these?” she asks.

“Starting when I was thirteen. The flower was the first one. I was able to wear the first ring of waves when I was deemed able to crew on a sailing ship at age fifteen.”

“And the other two with it?” Elanor has moved to my left side and is examining the tattoos on that portion of my body.

“The second ring came later, when I was able to pilot a vessel near the shore. The third ring came when I could navigate a ship across the open ocean.”

“Has anyone else seen these?” Elanor asks.

“Lots of people have. Back in the Bhayanna Archipelago, where is it much warmer, we wear less clothing. All of my tattoos were exposed almost all of the time, so anyone could see them.”

“Has anyone else in Mandelbroggen seen these?”

“No,” I say. I have not even shown them to Dierdra.

“How do they do it?” she asks. “I mean, how do they draw the images on your skin?”

“With a sharp spine, a pot of ink, and quite a bit of time,” I tell her.

“Does it hurt?”

“Oh, it definitely stings. We have some leaves that we chew while the artist does his work; they dull the pain.”

When Elanor is done examining my body art, I finish changing my clothes. Then I collapse onto my bed and drift into sleep again.

When I wake, I get up and walk to the window. Judging from the shadows, it is late afternoon. Elanor is still sleeping, curled up on one end of the straw bed.

My left thigh is stiff now, and I lift my dress to examine the large bruise there. The skin is not broken, so I am sure that my leg will heal soon. Walking slowly over to the table, I take a seat and start to write in my journal. I manage to record most of the events and discoveries of the last day and a half when I hear a knock at the door. As I limp over to answer it, Elanor stirs and sits up.

“Who’s there?” I ask.

“It’s me,” says Dierdra.

I open the door for her, then close it again after she enters.

“I woke up a short time ago,” Dierdra says. “That was quite an adventure we had yesterday. Now what are we going to do?”

“That’s a good question,” I say. “I imagine the imperial guards are still looking for us. Do you think any of them got a good look at us?”

“I hope not,” says Dierdra. “Red hair isn’t especially common around here, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“It’s more common than dark-skinned, blonde-haired, tattooed Teidhwar Zariinyeida are.”

Dierdra grins and says, “Well, there are two of you anyway. Do you think they suspect Mariyiybha?”

“That’s not funny,” I say. “I would be devastated if anything I did brought harm to her.”

“I’m sorry,” says Dierdra. “I was just trying to lighten the mood a little. It was in poor taste.”

“It’s not just your skin or your tattoos,” Elanor says. “Even when you are completely covered, people will notice you. Your clothes are different. No one around here wears a cloak with large bell-shaped sleeves like you do. Ours just have slits so that we can poke our arms out.”

“It’s true,” Dierdra says. “Your dresses are rather unique as well, with their big sleeves.”

“Speaking of dresses and tattoos, I have something to show you,” I say to Dierdra. I sit down on the edge of the bed and pull up my dress so that she can see the albatross and the sea turtle on my thighs. “Elanor happened to notice them when we were changing, and I thought that you deserved to see them as well.”

“Your people go all out with the bodily decoration,” Dierdra says. “They are very nice; I like them. Are there any others?”

“On my arms.” I pull up my sleeves all the way to my shoulders, so that she can view the flower and the sea bands.

“Who’s Mariyiybha?” Elanor asks.

“A friend of ours,” I say.

“Well, I need to get back and contact the others,” says Elanor. “So as soon as we get some lunch, I’ll be on my way.”

“Lunch? It’s almost dinnertime,” I say. “In any case, we can’t hide out in this room forever. We might as well go and get something to eat now.”

Elanor gathers her things and we head downstairs together. Because my boots are still not dry, I wear my sandals, despite the lateness of the season. With my hand gripping the smooth wooden railing, I move cautiously down the stairs, both out of care for my sore leg and because I fear what I will find.

The usual crowd is at the inn, and we sit and have an early dinner of stew. Elanor is anxious to get home before it gets dark, and she leaves as soon as she has finished eating.

“So now what?” Dierdra asks.

“I think that tonight I’m going to go up, wash out a few of my things, finish writing in my journal, and get some sleep. Tomorrow, I plan to give Mariyiybha a visit. Would you like to come?”

“Sure, it would be nice to get her perspective on things.”

“How are we doing for supplies?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dried food, water skins, blankets, stuff like that. Are we ready for a journey?”

“We could use a few things. Are you thinking of leaving soon?”

“Not immediately, but I want to be ready to go on short notice. It all depends on how things play out in the next few days.”

“Just the two of us?”

“Hopefully not. I’d like to travel with a larger group. Elanor and a couple of her friends, at least one more fighter, and a naturalist to round out our party.”

“Where are you going to find these people?”

“We could ask that ex-soldier that I met in the citrona grass fields, Clavius. And there’s the naturalist that came through here last week, Xerxes.”

“That pompous idiot? Are we really that desperate for help?” Dierdra asks.

“We need a naturalist, someone skilled in first aid and plant lore. We need to be able to live off the land and find our way through the wilderness,” I say.

“That’s going to be some trick during the winter.”

“All the more reason to have a naturalist in our group.”

“Okay, I see your point. But how are you going to convince these people to join us?”

“That’s going to be a bit more difficult.”

After a few more minutes discussing our plans, we decide to call it a night and head up to our rooms.

The next morning, I wake up at the usual time and head down for breakfast. The smell of freshly baked bread greats me as I descend the stairs. As I am getting my cereal and tea, the innkeeper talks to me.

“A couple of guards were in here last night,” he says, “after you went upstairs. They were asking about some woman who looks just like you. And her young red-haired friend. I told them that I hadn’t seen her.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I owe you.”

“You’re a good patron, and you don’t cause me any trouble. I hope it stays that way.”

“Me too. But if things heat up, we’ll leave. I’ll make sure I pay up on my way out.”

He jerks his head toward two men who have just come in and are walking up to the counter.

“Enjoy your breakfast,” he says to me. “What can I get you two men?”

I take my food and find a seat. Dierdra comes down not long after and joins me.

“I thought of the things we should get,” she says. “We can pick them up on our way to visit Mariyiybha.”

“Good. We’ve got plenty to talk about on the way.”

I am glad that my cloak and boots have managed to dry out, because it is a cold morning. Trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible, I leave my quarterstaff behind, taking only a gyaphla knife and a dagger for defense. Although it is mostly empty, I wear my backpack. It provides room for my journal and the two orbs I still have, along with space for whatever supplies we manage to purchase today.

Dierdra likewise leaves her bow behind. “At least my machete has finally stopped glowing,” she says. When I tell her of the men who were looking for us at The Happy Pilgrim, she tries not to sound worried. “Maybe we should think of leaving soon.”

We travel into the center of the city, walking slowly through the streets. My hood is drawn up tight over my head, both to ward off the stiff wind that is blowing through town, and to remain as anonymous as possible. Because of this, I do not notice the man hanging from the gibbet in the center of the town square. Dierdra points him out to me; looking up in the direction that she indicates, I observe him dangling from the end of a rope, swaying back and forth as gusts of wind push his body. His face is bloated and black, and crows have descended upon him, eating his eyes first and now picking at whatever bare flesh they can find.

“I wonder what he did to deserve this?” I ask Dierdra.

“There is no sign, nothing for you to read,” she says. “He does look vaguely familiar, however.”

“I do not see how you could possibly recognize him. His corpse has already been picked at by the birds, and he looks about to rot. Other than being tall for a North Plessian, and thin, and having short blond hair, there is nothing else you can say to describe him.”

“The man who was arrested in front of us, the day after you arrived,” Dierdra says. “I think that it is him. Remember, they accused him of being a Circle Cultist.”

“It could be,” I say. “Or it could be someone else. That was what, almost three months ago?”

“Let’s move on. We are starting to draw attention.” A pair of town guardsmen carrying a halberd and a sword are standing on the far side of the square, watching us.

We proceed west to the market, spending most of our morning there, as we negotiate the best deals we can manage on dried fruits and meats. It is not long after the harvest, so the supply is plentiful, and we manage to find everything that we need for a fair price. The marketplace is notably empty this morning, probably because of the weather. The occasional sweet smell of dried fruit or the delicious odors coming from a seller of soups and stew is mostly blown away by the sharp winds, which howl and scream between the vendor’s stalls. Loose canvas flaps in the breeze. I look at the poor women in their tattered clothes tending their wares and think of how privileged and fortunate my life has been. I wonder what I will look like a year from now.

I spend about half of my time looking at the items for sale and the other half looking around the streets. We see teams of town guardsmen moving through the area, but the patrols look routine and the guards seem more interested in keeping warm than looking for suspected trespassers. I cannot help feeling nervous though. Every time I see them, I pull my hood closed, bury my hands in my pockets, and hunch over the tables a bit more.

A few items elude us. We are not able to find anything resembling a tent, although we do pick up two more blankets apiece. By noon we have completed our shopping. Picking up some hot potato soup from a vendor, we head to Mariyiybha’s home.

“What a nice surprise,” Mariyiybha says as she answers the door. “Please come in. It is truly a pleasure to see you both.”

“We brought some bread and soup for lunch,” Dierdra says.

“Thank you. I’ll get some tea started.”

Mariyiybha’s home looks the same as ever, full of piles of books and papers. She clears some things off her table, and Dierdra and I take a seat.

“We have much to talk about,” I say. “A lot has happened recently.”

“So I’ve heard,” says Mariyiybha.

Her answer surprises me. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“Father Krohen Dënh came by to see me yesterday afternoon,” Mariyiybha says. “He asked around the marketplace until he could find someone who knew where I lived. He wanted to talk to me out of concern for the two of you.”

“How much did he tell you?”

“That you both snuck into the castle with one other woman and discovered some things that the imperial government would probably prefer were left undiscovered.”

“Did he go into detail?”

“No, I was hoping that you would do that. He was also concerned about your boat trip off the island. He wasn’t sure that you were going to make it.”

“We almost didn’t.”

The tea is ready and Mariyiybha sits down. Together we eat our lunch and tell her everything that has happened. The warm soup is filling, but surprisingly tasteless.

“It was nice of Father Krohen to be concerned,” I say.

“There is more to it than that. He wants to talk to you. He asked you to meet him here tomorrow afternoon.”

“Do you trust him?” I ask.

“I should ask you that,” Mariyiybha says.

I look at Dierdra. “I trust him more than anyone else in the local church. I don’t think that he would turn us in.”

“It’s hard to trust anyone right now,” Dierdra says. “Anyone other than you two, anyway. I’m not sure that I would trust Elanor, either, except that I know she fears getting caught even more than we do.”

“Well, now that you’ve discovered wizardry in the castle,” Mariyiybha says, “what are you going to do?”

“We haven’t quite decided,” I say. “It depends on what the church does.”

“And what, if anything, the Circle Cultists decide to do,” Dierdra says.

“I don’t expect them to do much,” I say. “They’ll talk about what is going on amongst themselves, but they’re too vulnerable to accuse the government in public.”

“I didn’t expect you to do much either,” Mariyiybha says. “You were trained to be an observer.”

“Yes, that’s true. Actually, that is what I thought I was doing. I just got curious, and when I wanted to observe things that weren’t out in the open, I decided to sneak into the castle. It was going fine until we got caught.”

“Spying in the castle isn’t when you stopped being an observer,” Mariyiybha says. “It’s when you told the church what you had found and gave them an orb that you took action.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I couldn’t afford to be on the wrong side of both the church and the government.

“You know, Mariyiybha, the town guardsmen have been looking for us,” I continue. “They inquired about us at the inn where we are staying. We may have to leave Mandelbroggen.”

“Where will you go?” Mariyiybha asks.

“You traveled amongst the Rhozzhani tribes of the Duradh Plateau before arriving here.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that we could go there?”

“The culture is very different, and the land is harsh. But once you get there, the Pyrusian Empire will leave you alone. It is well outside their sphere of influence.”

“It doesn’t sound very inviting,” Dierdra says.

“It’s not,” says Mariyiybha. “But if you decide to go, I could help. I could lend you my journals from my travels through there.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I may take you up on that. We’ll have a better idea in a few days.”

“Take care of yourselves. Don’t take your safety for granted.”

When our visit is complete, we head back to The Happy Pilgrim. We travel carefully, avoiding patrols, and when we get back, we head straight for our rooms, avoiding the patrons downstairs as well.