The Taleweaver

A swirl of wind and a sense of power everywhere. It was like when they had jumped to Gaz, but much, much more powerful. He wanted to throw up and then the sensation was gone. They were -- elsewhere.

He stood on a shining platform. It looked like glass, a deep blue and green glass almost alive with faint stars slowly blinking inside. Harbend looked up. They sky was overcast so the lights did come from inside the platform. Warmer than in Braka as well.

"Where are we?"

"Your home. This is Nachi."

"You jumped us to Khi?" Harbend croaked.

"I am, as I have said, the greatest Transport Khar living." There was neither irony nor boast in his voice, just a tired quality as if he'd been forced to explain the obvious once too many.

Harbend shook his shock away. "Arthur, when he wakes?"

"I'll fetch a Mindwalker. He won't remember," Escha answered.

They jumped again, and this time Harbend recognized the magehealers' quarters seen through an open window. They were inside a room and an old man was rising from his chair with a stunned look on his face. Arthur was already stretched out on a table, dagger still protruding from his abdomen.

"Heal him! I shall pay," Harbend barked. He didn't have time with explanations.

The Magehealer complied.

They were standing on a glassy platform. Arthur couldn't place the sense of disorientation he experienced. It was as if he'd slept, and even though he understood they must have jumped he had no memories of how it had happened, only fragments of a dark dream. He shook his head and turned to Escha.

"We are going back to Keen, I think," Harbend said. "I am sorry, but the taleweaver must publicly be known to be safe before Keen sends soldiers to the Sea of Grass."

Arthur nodded absently. He needed to go there as well. With his reputation he might force the Terran Federation to stop any escalation of their military intervention. Even if it meant being forced back to Earth.

Escha grimaced. "You are going back to Keen. My kind is not welcome there."

That was as clear a farewell as it could be to Arthur. "What will you do now?" he asked uncomfortably.

Both men looked at each other for a long time, and Arthur could feel that Harbend beside them didn't dare breaking the silence.

"After I have jumped you to Chach?"

"You don't have to jump us from here, but yes, after we part ways." Should have known he knew De Vhatic all the time, Arthur reflected.

"I will..." Escha hesitated, and then he grinned, face shining with genuine happiness for the first time in months. "With the money I receive after Trai, blessed be his memory, I'll become my own master, and you, Lord Garak, will pay the full fee for the transport to Chach."

"I would have it no other way," Harbend answered. "Master Escha."

"I'll become Escha er Khanai, no longer slave, and with the money you pay me I'll buy myself a slave to do my biddings and train."

Arthur looked at him in dismay.

"Lord Wallman. This is not Earth, nor Terra, or what you call your strange worlds of home. This is Khanati, and what's proper here is what I'll do. I've seen for myself how those you'd call free are treated."

Arthur guessed what he meant. "But that was people from Ri Khi demanding those executions. I saw nothing of the sort in Keen," he protested weakly.

"What's proper in Keen is not the rule followed in Ri Khi, and it's not the rule in Khanati. Maybe one day the rules will change in Khanati as well, but until then I'll take my responsibility as a free man."

"You still haven't told me what you're going to do." Arthur said, unwilling to continue in the direction the conversation was taking.

"I'll teach. I'll teach those with the gift how to use it, but more importantly, I will teach them when to use it."

Arthur clasped Escha's hands. "I don't have to like all ways of Khanati, but I respect you. Always know that! I expect you to take better care of your slaves than we did of our fellow traders that night."

"Always."

At least Harbend had the decency to look uncomfortable, Arthur thought. All of them needed to learn something from their experiences, or else the cost would have been in vain.

"What happens now?" Arthur asked and shook some of the dizziness away. He gave Harbend a suspicious look. "What happened?" Arthur asked again.

"We jumped," Harbend answered, but he averted his eyes in a way Arthur didn't like.

"There were soldiers from my home back there." Arthur frowned. There was something he didn't remember. "It was my responsibility forcing them to stop."

"It was Lord Garak's to prevent you from dying while trying," Escha interjected. "The decision was taken from you. You have no reason to put blame on yourself for something you couldn't change."

Arthur looked at Escha, and the Khar responded with a cold stare.

"You are a taleweaver," Harbend started. "Your life belongs to the world now."

Arthur locked eyes with his friend. "No," Arthur said.

No, not any more. I didn't travel this road just to become the richest slave in the known universe again. Free, finally free as I have always been. The shackles were my own doing. I've lived a coward's life, but no more.

Tension ran away from him like a dam breaking and years of frustration broke forth. He wanted to lash out but then revelation followed realization. The shackles were mine and mine alone. Freedom carries responsibility. What right do I have to punish others for my own cravenness? He sighed and straightened his back.

"I'm a taleweaver, but my life belongs to me alone. You can't make me Weave, only I can." He put a finger to Harbend's chest. "I choose when to Weave and when not to. I choose to become what I am, not you and not the world. That choice is mine alone."

Harbend bowed his head in understanding -- and respect. "You are right. I apologize. Can we undo what we have done?"

"I have as little right to force Khar Escha to jump us back to Belgera as you have to force me to Weave. There will be no undoing. Are we going home now?"

Harbend and Escha exchanged glances of relief. They must have shared something Arthur wasn't part of.

"If you want to go home I'll jump you there by the jump towers. Well, not your home, Lord Wallman," Escha said smiling.

Arthur grinned in response. "That would be no mean feat, but no, I'm quite satisfied if you can bring us as close to Verd as possible."

"The jump tower at Friedhafen will be fine," Harbend muttered.

"Do you mind if we stay for a meal in Ira? I've jumped far and would need something to strengthen me on the way."

"Not at all," Arthur said. He had no idea where Ira was. He had no idea where he was at the moment for that matter. A day or so over some maps when he was back in Verd seemed appropriate.

"No problem. It's not like it'll delay our journey much," Harbend said. There was still something in his voice making Arthur look at his friend.

"What is it?"

"The caravan. All the people. We deserted them in the middle of a battle."

Arthur thought for a while before he answered. "Uncomfortable as it is they still have to fend for themselves."

"But they may not know. There are people in danger there right now."

Arthur finally understood what had made Harbend getting second thoughts. "Nakora makes a living from being in danger. You can't take that away from her."

An expression of dismay spread over Harbend's face -- as if he'd been caught stealing candy in a shop. It amused Arthur that Harbend believed no one had noticed the growing relationship between Nakora and him.

"Gentlemen, if you are ready."

They both broke their conversation at Escha's words. He smiled at them, and they were surrounded by the feeling of nothingness again. Four times this was repeated and then Escha jumped them down from the glassy platform they had arrived on.

Arthur gazed at their surroundings. The sun shone from a clear morning sky, and it was already hot. He could see a walled town some distance away, and a well-trodden path led there. There was no telling him where they were, and he gave up on asking. A name would mean nothing to him without a map, and even with one it would only tell him the relative distance from Verd. Once again he felt the need to learn more about the world, and a growing suspicion a lifetime of learning wouldn't suffice grew in him.

"Gentlemen, from here we walk. They don't take kindly to strangers who jump into town," Escha said.

Arthur smiled. "Seems to be the way everywhere."

The walk was the first opportunity for him to calm down since their hasty departure from Belgera, and long before they had arrived at the city walls he discarded the heavy winter clothes he'd wore for so long. Wherever this was it had to be far south from Braka. It was good to be outdoors in the warmth. He'd almost forgotten what it was like, and with spirits rising he entered the town.

The afternoon was cooler than their stay in Ira. Harbend had to pull his coat on again, but it wasn't cold enough to merit his buttoning it up. They'd arrived in northern Chach a short time earlier, and Escha was probably already halfway back to Khanati by now. Harbend wished the mage a happy homecoming. A strange friend, but a true one in his own way. A friend with secrets as well. He'd never have guessed the mage knew De Vhatic. The language itself was anathema for anyone with the gift.

Harbend smiled. I seem to be good at gathering strange friends lately.

He wondered if he was as strange and outlandish in their eyes as well. He laughed at the thought, and a mixture of relief and happiness filled him as he walked to the harbor. He was still laughing when he arrived there, and more than one person he met on his way shot him the odd glance. Harbend hardly noticed, and accompanied by the sound of his feet he turned right at a pier and crossed the narrow beach until the occasional wave reached his boots.

Harbend gazed across the water. Almost back now. Only a short fare on a ship across the Narrow Sea. It should only take a day or two, and usually the trip was safe, but with the raiders present you were never safe anywhere on the seas.

Harbend sighed and walked away from the shore. There wasn't any choosing left now. Tomorrow they'd cross the waters and travel a few days until they reached the magical roads making Keen so powerful.

Maybe Arthur was right about his project for the Sea of Grass after all. Roads built power, not armies. Harbend hadn't looked at it that way, but Arthur was adamant. He refused to believe in troops being anything but a tool for destruction. Harbend wasn't prepared to go as far. Troops were needed to protect what you built, but he did believe Arthur to be right in that the use of soldiers were destructive.

It had been a long journey, and very different from the sedate, sluggish march from Braka they'd expected. Now Harbend only longed to be back in Verd. He'd have liked to avoid any kind of travel for a very, very long time, but that was unlikely to happen. Anyway, dreams were for free and Harbend intended to enjoy this one for as long as possible.

Dusk had fallen when he entered the tavern, and he ordered only a light meal in anticipation for the dinner they would have later that evening. Thoughts of coming home swirled in his mind, and thoughts of debts as well. He owed Arthur more than just wealth, and Arthur had made it clear he needed to find something, but what he hadn't said yet.

Harbend chose a table as far away from the fireplace as possible.

I'm still used to the cold. Why shouldn't I be. Yesterday we were walking the streets of Belgera.

He sighed. Had it only been a day? What would happen to the caravan caught in Belgera?

He ate in silence, wondering. Neritan had been all but forthcoming with information when she told him he needed to leave Belgera together with Arthur.

Harbend grinned at the memory of how they'd convinced Arthur to show up in a timely fashion. Captain Laiden must have spent most of his impressive resources of bad will to make Arthur obey so fast. There definitely was more to the captain than he showed, desertion with his entire command from the Inquisition being the least, and when they were back in Verd Harbend would make sure to find out what it was, one way or another. If there was time, of course. Harbend still had something of a promise to Arthur to keep, even if he hadn't told him yet.

There would be time to worry about the caravan later, but now there was nothing he could do, and when he reached Verd he'd have to rely on couriers for information. Well, he could probably send one here with enough money to use the jump towers later. Now he could only sleep for a while. It was, after all, not that much different from the worries he had when he sent a ship with cargo to distant Khi.

Harbend finished his meal and left the tavern for their room. He wanted to take a nap before Arthur arrived. The day had been longer than he expected. Time distortion from jumping east to west, Escha had explained earlier.

Harbend climbed the stairs and went directly for his bed. Not bothering with his clothes he lay down and slept until the door opened and Arthur entered.

"Sleeping already?" he said before he closed the door.

"Not really. I was waiting for you," Harbend answered as he sat up and faced Arthur.

Arthur looked back. "Something happened?"

"A lot has happened, but that is not the reason. We need to talk about what is going to happen." Harbend combed the sleep out of his hair with his fingers.

"What do you mean?"

"We are a few eightdays from Verd. I cannot hide you there."

"I don't plan to hide in Verd," Arthur answered with a thin smile. The prospect of passivity apparently still ired him.

"Are you going back home?" Harbend asked in an attempt to lead the conversation in a direction where he could get an opportunity to pay his debt.

"I've given that possibility a thought, yes."

"And?"

Arthur didn't answer, and Harbend found himself hanging on the next word to come.

Arthur grinned mischievously. "There are still tales to be told and even more to be heard."

Harbend stared at Arthur. "So, you are going to live here as a taleweaver?"

"Yes. I believe that's at least one reason I'm here. If possible I hope to stay here."

"You do know that you need to exchange tales with others first?" Now when it was out in the open it was easier for Harbend to proceed with his questions.

"No, but I suspected as much. Well, I'm used to long journeys. One more or less won't make much of a difference. I'll start when I'm ready I guess." Arthur smiled, but it was a tired smile.

"I see. I shall think about how I can help you."

Harbend made his decision then. He'd wait with telling Arthur about it until later, but the decision was made, and in a way that was a relief. There would be another journey, but this time he'd be the one following Arthur's steps. No money made the next time they took to the roads, but Arthur had saved his family and received a dagger in his stomach in return.

Harbend sighed slowly, and when he noticed Arthur giving him a suspicious look he turned the sigh into a deep yawn. It was easier than he would have thought and a while later he fell asleep.

They boarded the ship early in the morning. To Arthur, who hadn't stood upon the planks of a wooden ship previously in his life, it was a novel experience. This was more the kind of adventure he preferred, but he'd been warned that the waters were unsafe around here, and it was with mixed feelings he went to inspect his cabin.

It turned out to be smaller than he'd expected, smaller even than the cramped quarters he got used to while still with the caravan. Two bunks and a narrow table bolted to the far wall took up most of the space. Below the bunks there was hardly space enough to stash away a travelers luggage, not that they had much of it.

Their departure from Belgera had been far too hurried. Their flight from Belgera, Arthur corrected himself. This far very little of his travels had turned out to be uneventful in the truest sense of the word, and by now he fervently longed to be bored for a few days.

They set sail, and to his pleasant surprise Arthur didn't feel anything of the seasickness he'd heard stories about. Arthur snickered. He probably had told viewers about it during one of his shows. He'd told so much of what he didn't know of from own experience during the years on Earth.

Arthur spent most of the morning watching the harbor grow smaller behind them, getting used to the movement of the ship under his feet. There was a sound of sailing, a creaking and heaving he'd only been told about, but he had never before been on board a wooden sailing ship. The shrill shrieks of seagulls were familiar to him though.

They were on their way home. Strange that he would consider Verd as home, but it was the only place where he'd spent some time since his arrival here. Arthur shrugged the thought away. There would be more time to decide what was a home or not later, but until then he was satisfied with looking forward to feeling the stone of the magical capital under his feet once again. Maybe he wouldn't be extracted, but he held little hopes.

Harbend de Garak?

Harbend wheeled, but there was no one there.

Harbend de Garak? The voice, no, not voice, but thought came to his mind as if placed there. Ah, Neritan. She was sending him a message.

"What do you want?" he said to the wall in his cabin.

The caravan is safe. It was an enemy of Arthur's who attacked. It's been taken care of. I'll accompany the caravan back to Erkateren. You should greet your woman there.

The presence was reassuring, but Harbend still had questions. Neritan must have known it, bridging the gap between Belgera and the Narrow Sea, and she continued. Outworlder soldiers took care of outworlder problems. Arthur's no longer hunted by his own. Tell him as much. Be careful when you arrive at home. The Council of Twelve knows much more than I can tell you.

Harbend chose not to make any more questions. He didn't know how the golden mage could have found him here, and he didn't dare to aggravate her by asking. Knowing the caravan was safe, that Nakora was safe had to be enough.

Harbend smiled as the presence vanished. Now only returning home remained, and at least this last leg of his journey he could spend without worries.

There was one last surprise as Harbend learned that they were heading directly for Hasselden rather than straight across the Narrow Sea. A battle had been waged along the northern coast of the Narrow Sea, a battle the western raiders lost, and shipwrecks made the harbors unsafe. Apart from the change of destination the voyage was uneventful, with the possible exception of Arthur's relief when he learned about how things had turned out in Belgera. Half a year together and Harbend had never known Arthur believed himself a hunted man.

Less than an eightday later Harbend recognized the coastline they were hugging. He balanced his way to the starboard side. Only a few days on a ship, but he was already becoming used to the constant movement under his feet as the wood heaved and sank rhythmically with the waves.

He longed for some luxuries, like a hot bath. Now that was something to look forward to. A wonderful bath with scented oils, and massage afterwards. To be able to sleep in a wide bed of his own at the time he chose, feeling as relaxed as only a good massage could make him feel.

Harbend stared longingly at the coast. The first sign of Hasselden would be pillars of smoke from the shipyard where they repaired ships that got caught when their crews dared going sea hunting despite the risk the raiders posed. Well, some never came back, but most did as they never ventured far from the town. A few new ships were built as well, but not as many as when he'd first come there.

The smoke pillars would have different colors dependent on if the craftsmen were boiling wood or oil.

There! He could see the smoke now. Home! They were close enough to see it. Harbend stood on his toes as if that extra height would make him come closer to Hasselden. If only it could, but he'd have to accept over half a day of waiting before his impatience could finally be curbed. Something about the smoke caught his interest. At first Harbend thought the wharfs must be especially busy, but as they slowly came closer his curiosity was replaced by despair.

Smoke was everywhere, smoke and soot. He fervently wished they'd taken a coach instead. Hasselden was a ghost, still burning in places and the entire harbor a maze of shipwrecks that would take a long time to clear up. It would be cleared up, eventually. Keen was too practical to abandon their southern port to a disaster, but Harbend knew, without doubt, the wounds would take years to heal, and for those still living who had lost most they would never heal.

Arthur came up behind him. "The captain says we can't make landfall here. He wants to go further north." Harbend hardly noticed the hand Arthur placed on his shoulder.

"I know," Harbend said. He rubbed a hand over his eyes as if that would banish the sight. "I can see the wrecks in the harbor. What happened here?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry. You said you used to live here," There was silent respect in the voice, and fingers gripped harder in unvoiced support.

"I did. I wonder what has happened to my people," Harbend whispered, no longer able to keep emotions away. Tears crept to his eyes, and he had to wipe them again.

"Family?"

"No, employees. You remember I sent money with a courier when we were in Verd?"

Harbend could see Arthur searching his mind but finding nothing. "Not really."

"The day you asked about the farwriter," Harbend explained, knowing he was rambling. Talking was better than watching.

"Ah, yes, the telegraph."

"I have a storefront here. It is not close enough to the harbor for us to see from here, so I would fail to know if it is still there. I hope so, and I hope both my men are safe."

Harbend looked across the water again, but there was nothing he could do. It would have to wait. Gods! He'd made the voyage here without being seasick, but now the sight of his first home in Keen forced bile to his throat, and he heaved and heaved. This, at least, was not of his doing, he thought when his stomach was empty.

They made landfall later that day, but they never traveled to Hasselden. Instead they spent two days trekking inland to avoid meeting any raiders. Harbend didn't speak much during those days. The awful homecoming had a profound effect on him but what occupied most of his thoughts were the implied threats in the message Neritan had sent. The Council of Twelve could only mean politics, and he had no wish to become involved in such matters. It was bad for business and it was sure to draw unwelcome attention to him. To Arthur as well. By now the rumors of the outworlder taleweaver had to have reached the capital.

When they reached the highway and caught a coach for Verd it was too late for sharing his misgivings with Arthur. With Hasselden in ruins Keen was sure to have spies everywhere and the only places Harbend trusted to have no unwelcome ears was his office and the Tree.

Arriving in Verd one late evening Harbend and Arthur made their way to the small office where Harbend had met his relatives an eternity earlier. He was back again. Back in a place he never thought he would call home, but in a sense it was. This was the home he had made instead of the one he left.

Less than a year, a shorter journey than some he'd undertaken earlier, and in a way a more straightforward one. And still, how was it possible it felt like the longest of them all? So much had happened, so much pain and grief to fulfill a need he'd barely seen when he embarked upon the project. Now he had in a way finished it, even if the caravan had just started its long trek back.

So good to stay here, for a few eightdays at least, but if Neritan was right Verd would be a dangerous place, and besides, he'd made Arthur a promise. He owed Arthur that much. At least that much.

Harbend sighed and turned. "Well, Arthur, now I have been home."

Arthur gave him a look full of sympathy, but didn't answer.

"Arthur, you decide this time."

"Do I have to?" Arthur asked, no longer able to avoid speaking.

"Yes, I am afraid so. This journey is yours from the beginning."

"Then I say we ride for the Roadhouse, turn north to Ri Khi and gather supplies there. Might even hire an escort there as well," Arthur said and gave Harbend an amused glance.

Harbend felt his cheeks heat. Thank you Arthur, thank you for making me remember that priceless gift instead of my misgivings. Harbend coughed to hide his embarrassment. "As you say," he responded after a while.

"You're the one who said I need to find a taleweaver to learn from," Arthur said. "I won't do so by sitting in Verd, and Ri Khi is as good a start as any. Tomorrow then?" he continued.

"Tomorrow," Harbend agreed.