In the bright Suzailian morning sun, Iona blinked his hazy eyes. Only a fraction of the pain and irritation remained in them, a fact of which he was glad. He slowly turned his head, and could just barely make out unexplained forms in the thick darkness that had become his daily reality. Not one of the unfathomable masses was even remotely recognizable, let alone familiar.
"Half-formed shapes in the dark of a moonless night," he finally replied.
On his right, close to his shoulder, he could hear his sister-in-law sigh quietly.
"That's the limit of our abilities, I'm afraid," the soft voice of the priestess who had introduced herself as Radiant Servant Iris lamented. She indicated the cloth coin purse on the low table between herself and the family with the slightest extension of her upturned hand. "Lady Susanna, I won't keep your-"
"I won't have it back," Susanna protested, folding her arms tightly against her chest to enforce her point. "You prayed your prayers, made sacrifices, cast spells-"
"But if they were for naught," the priestess began to argue.
"You must keep it," Susanna interrupted. "The reagents were purchased, the time spent, and the work done- that Pelor did not answer your efforts in a way that favoured our plight should not mean the emptying of your offering box. So many others depend upon you; you must be fully supplied. I pray you, please, keep it. Every coin."
A sad silence fell across the four people gathered for a moment.
"It's no small sum..." the priestess began again, looking up at Iordyn in the attempt to get some support from him.
"And you undertook the working of a miracle," Susanna cut in insistently, leaning her upper body just slightly in the feigned attempt to get in the priestess's line of sight again. When the older woman refocused on her, she sat up straight again. "If you don't keep it properly, I shall have to find some nefarious means of sneaking it in here, and-"
"I'll do as you ask," Iris finally frowned, picking up the coin purse and tying it securely to the bare rope that served as a belt about her healthy waist. "Now return to the safety and security of your home, and please, don't upset yourself."
"I'm not upset," Susanna said breathlessly, struggling to push herself up from the cushioned chair that didn't seem to want to let her heavy body go. Iordyn, who had been standing just a few paces behind her, easily moved to her right side in order to give her an arm to lean on.
"Ser Raibeart, if you love your sister, keep her in the house," Iris chided as she rose, folding her hands into the wide sleeves of her saffron yellow cotton dress. "The baby is so very close at hand, it could come forth this very season, yet she gallops about, up and down in this noisy, dirty city, with matters she could easily send her eldest girl child to handle."
Susanna immediately bit her lips between her teeth to keep herself from disrespecting the matronly priestess, and Iordyn put a firm grip on his sister-in-law's forearm.
"I will do all I can to safeguard her, Raidiant Servant," he replied, giving a slight bow.
"See that you do," the priestess answered knowingly. "Now, may the light of Pelor guide you on your way, and keep you from evil."
"So be it," all three siblings chorused at once.
Iona listened to the priestess's footsteps on the hard stone of the hospital wing, which were quickly swallowed up by whispers commingled with the cries and moans that wafted through the place. "Suze, you were all but threatening a priestess into taking coin. And you weren't taught to be cagey with the servants of the gods, Iordi."
"Must those be the first words you find to say?" Susanna quietly groaned. "Give me your hand."
"I'll go without it," Iona replied, reaching out to feel the now-empty chair beside him and the low table that he remembered being in front of him. "Tyr himself walks in darkness more complete than mine, and has no guide."
"Tyr is a god," Susanna stated firmly. "No mortal should even think of attempting to be his equal even in a supposed weakness; now, be reminded of the humility that same god bid you thrice over to have, and give me your hand."
"Surely Stephen is the worst of thieves, to steal you away from your true calling," Iona smiled, reaching up for Susanna's hand. Once he'd found it, Susanna let go of Iordyn and slowly turned herself around, so that both she and Iordyn could help Iona to get around the chairs. "No common housewife could preach so short a sermon with such authority."
Purposefully positioning himself between Susanna and Iona, Iordyn made a sound that seemed like a tightly controlled cough. "If you'll take my elbow-"
"With a few lessons, they would every one be as qualified to speak on simple spiritual matters as I," Susanna answered, nonplussed.
"But they are called only to keep themselves pious, their homes clean, their children healthy, and their husbands happy," Iona smiled warmly. "Yours is an unusual case, and my brother is blessed beyond his understanding, but-"
"Anyone can see what trouble my education saves Stephen," Susanna said pointedly. "The girls also see what trouble ignorance brings their playfellows. Sarai complains of having to read the little love letters that higher born boys write to their commoner girl friends."
Iordyn bit his lips and led his siblings resolutely out of the hospital wing of the Pelorian temple. The sun poured itself eagerly over the dial in the courtyard, but the archer did not stop to notice what time of morning it was.
"Sarai likely complains because no boys have written to her," Iona scoffed. "She does better keeping the company of her sister than that of peasant girls. Young men's words aren't for her eyes, and further, I imagine any correspondence between them and those untaught prattlers are kept secret out of shame."
"There's no shame in- listen, we live next to those 'untaught prattlers', and their parents, who quietly rely on their gentle neighbors rather than find and pay a cleric, a war wizard, an alchemist, or a witch to help them," Susanna argued. "What should we do, keep indoors for fear of contaminating ourselves with lack of coin or schooling? The Raibearts are blessed to have been as literate as priests and princes for two generations, and I am doubly blessed that Sylvester and Sarai are both of such minds and hearts as to share their gifts with others not so fortunate."
"Sylvester may do well as a missionary, but mind the seeds of over familiarity sewn in Sarai, or you shall reap back unseemly fruit," Iona admonished.
"Oh for heavens' sake, you're right in that no boys have written to her; she'll hardly bear a bastard child for some neighborhood girl!" Susanna exclaimed. "The day you have children, you may counsel me in rearing mine. Until then, you might better bite your tongue."
"Stephen and Suze have done four times what neither of us have managed even once," Iordyn interrupted before Iona could reply. "The two of them decide what freedoms their children can or cannot have, without any interference from the likes of us."
"Should we also stand idly by and let her endanger this last one, Iordi?" Iona asked.
Iordyn rolled his eyes with a groan. "The midwife said-"
Susanna's eyes flashed with insult. "Other women must so much as mind livestock, walk miles to draw water, or harvest crops while pregnant- I've watched them do it! I am more delicate, perhaps, and have lost-"
"No talk of that," Iordyn said firmly. "Iona, the midwife gave us leave to come, so we've come. Don't upset Suze and pollute the air with angry words; that would endanger the child. Babes can hear all we say to them, and to their mothers, long before they are birthed and cut away."
"Well, I'll be quiet, then," Iona said quietly, "and may the babe live to forgive me."
Susanna pressed the tip of her tongue very hard between her front teeth and gripped Iordyn's right arm so tightly that the flesh around her fingers paled for lack of blood.
"You might sit in Sly's company again when we return," Iordyn managed, trying not to let on that his sister-in-law was actually hurting him.
"What good will I do him?" Iona said with a tired laugh. "I was not so good at the calligraphy of my companions even when I could see it, and now-"
"You might help him memorize scriptures," Iordyn suggested. "Isn't he trying to memorize the Pelorian scriptures, Suze?"
"No... not those, no," Susanna breathed, stranded somewhere between exasperation and frustration. "Turn right here, Iordi; we're not going to market."
"Whose words is he memorizing, then?" Iona asked. "If he is so much like his missionary-minded uncle, perhaps those of Lathander?"
Iordyn realized his mistake for himself, and sighed softly.
"No," Susanna admitted after a pause. "Keen observer that he himself is, he's chosen Helm as his patron."
Another silence stole between the siblings, much longer and more awkward than the last.
"A popular god, to be sure," Iona finally commented.
"Most everyone in the house keeps to the worship of Lathander, as he is the patron of the elder Raibeart household," Susanna added with the faintest tinge of apology in her tone. "Of course, I have my little shrine to Chauntea, and Iordi has expressed his belief that Lona seeks some other god, but-"
"Many Helmite brothers have written to the father of the Tyrran order," Iona interrupted. "Their common refrain is that both prize justice highly. May your son's patron protect him from carnal temptations and the... unfortunate misunderstandings... that may from them arise."
"So be it," Susanna said quietly, thinking immediately of how she'd gotten her husband and eldest child in the first place.
The three walked together without speaking for a few moments.
"Lot of bustle around the college today," Iordyn commented limply.
"There's been a series of 'accidents' on campus; there was a story about them on the Tellings's Greengrass broadsheet, but I didn't read it all the way through," Susanna admitted. "You... might ask Sly, he... he probably read it more closely."
More of that prickly silence.
"I wonder what patron you believe Salone has taken, Iordi," Iona said, trying to sound cheery.
"Some nature deity," Iordyn answered. "She's a little shy, as I'm sure you've noticed, and-"
"Her quiet spirit is becoming most of the time, but she has no reason to be secretive about holy devotion," Iona wondered. "Has she at least dispelled any doubt that she might be straying down the path of witchery?"
"Lona's not a witch," Iordyn spat immediately.
"Of course I'm not accusing her," Iona replied, struck by Iordyn's quick response. "It's just that the very nature of witchery is hidden- secret knowledge, hushed practices. Girl children are often lured to such wickedness when they believe themselves otherwise powerless, and as the youngest child in the house, well... the possibility is there; one must keep their eyes open to it, that's all I mean."
The three turned down the street that ran down past the shop, and could clearly hear the ringing of Stephen's hammer over the din of the passers-by.
"She hasn't spoken of her chosen patron," Susanna fretted, "because I made a grievous error that I believe has made her... afraid... to do so. I have finally asked forgiveness, but... I fear being forgiven only partially, or... or perhaps not at all. She smiles at me more often, but... she shares nothing her sister or brothers couldn't also tell me, and... in such short order, she has learned... to keep her mysteries so very well..."
"Come now, come now; no tears over that," Iordyn interrupted, wrapping a comforting arm around Susanna's back. "Lona's patron is holy, I'm sure of it, and will probably direct her to confide in you in due time. Remember, she was so happy to press that leaf with you, wasn't she? And leaves take time to dry, and to leave their marks upon pages- isn't that so? The leaf is pressed in that prayer book, and your words to the tree, I think, are likewise pressed deeply in her heart. When the time is right, she'll speak. No sooner, that's for sure, but trust in her, and in the forgiveness of her patron, whoever it is."
Susanna nodded, wiping tears. "Of course. Of course. It's just... to hear the possibility spoken by another... and I worry so constantly..."
"Worry is our natural reminder to pray, so do that," Iordyn soothed. "Trust in me; I know what it is to be overshadowed or underestimated by elder siblings, and I've never gone running after 'hidden knowledge' to empower me. Lona is quiet, but strong, and consistently holds her own. Her patron is some force of natural peace, and she is a good girl. Just give her time; time will prove me right."
Iona made a short noise of surprise. "I pray that all that be so, but... I didn't think you were so poorly treated in our youth, Iordi."
"You weren't looking," Iordyn replied tersely. "Mama and Stephen were. Almost all the time, right up to the day I got on the cart to Arabel. And now- having seen our father's sharp contempt, our mother's constant shepherding, seen how much being some kind of... I don't know... child guardian has taken out of Stephen- I have a lot of questions. For him, for Ronny, and for you."
Iona gave a single, short huff that went entirely unheard over the heavy, powerful hammer strikes.
"You're in your right to ask, but... there may be few answers."
The house, with the smithy facing the street upon which the three walked and the front door facing the street that dodged off to the southwest of the city, loomed ahead. From the sounds that sang out of the smithy, both Aleksei and Stephen were shaping metal.
"Why don't we go around upstairs, so that we don't give the baby a fright with all that clanging?" Iordyn suggested sheepishly.
"Oh no, Iordi; let me stand and watch my love from here," Susanna smiled gingerly. Having been so recently ambushed by tears, her eyes were still a bit pink, and her face even puffier than the pregnancy had made normal. "Just knowing that he continues on gives me strength to do likewise, sometimes. I used to come down within a good stone's throw of his master's shop- it was open on three sides just like this, so I could see past the forge- and just watch the pounding he put on that metal."
"Is that how you made a plough horse out of the wild stallion? Just by watching him?" Iordyn joked. "If he catches you standing here gazing at him like a lovesick maiden, he'll answer you now like he answered you then."
"Well, his is the mare," Susanna said slyly. "What he has offered, I've always taken very happily."
"The pair of you are filthy," Iona complained, only half serious. "Speaking of pounding and stallions like base peasants, spurred on by the desires of the flesh."
"Oh, have mercy, Father Firehammer," Susanna breathed as she rolled her eyes, fully understanding that he was joking. "If I'm going to be spurred on by desire for any man at all, should it not be for my own husband?"
"Where is the upper door, Iordi?" Iona asked pointedly. "Show me there, and let's leave the lady to lavish her looks upon her husband as she chooses."
"Ugh, the pair of you," Iordyn groaned, beginning to trudge toward the southern street.
As they began walking again, Susanna caught sight of a finely dressed, dark-skinned young boy, with a gleaming dagger peace-bonded to his wide belt with a sleek blue ribbon, who stood just outside of the front door.
"Stand close," she said to Iordyn lightly, shifting her eyes toward the young man. "I don't believe I know that boy."
Iordyn got the two to the bottom of the steps up to the front door, then paused. "Iona, the house has visitors; we'll have to let Suze go up first," he said under his breath.
"It's early for that yet, is it not?" Iona wondered back quietly.
Susanna left Iordyn's side and took a few careful steps up to the young man. "Ser, how fare you?"
"Well, Lady Raibeart," the young man answered without missing a beat. His crisply spoken consonants and open mouthed vowels made the native Cormite woman blush just a bit. "The esteemed Lady Marliir awaits you, with her manservant Shilon, within."
"I thank you, ser, and I would again thank you to know your name?" Susanna asked.
"It is Ammi," the young boy smiled. "As young Lady Amadelle's furry companion is elsewhere occupied, I have come as her manservant. She is also within, but Lady Marliir believed it would be unseemly to have two strange men in your house when you were not present to receive them. May I assist you as you enter?"
Susanna looked back at Iordyn, who still had Iona in tow, then rested her gaze firmly on Ammi, who was only as tall as her shoulders. She delicately extended her arm to him anyway, and much to her surprise, he took it as firmly as a grown soldier would have. Susanna opened the door, and the two stepped inside, leaving Iordyn to help Iona to the door.
"What is that child?" Iona asked.
"I don't know- an unmixed Human, to be sure," Iordyn replied quietly. "But from where, I couldn't say. Dark skin, dark eyes, dark, curly hair."
"A tongue too thick for Common," Iona noted sharply.
"He spoke well enough to be understood," Iordyn chuckled. "Emni, or Amni, likely hasn't lost his mother's tongue while he was at the learning of Common, and we're not likely to understand whatever that language is at all."
When Iordyn got Iona into the door, his breath was taken by the sight of a lovely dark eyed woman who had her head covered with both a light blue scarf and a white cloth that delicately encircled it, wrapping under her chin and cascading over her shoulder. Her deep blue-green empire-waisted dress had a much higher neckline than Susanna's did, but had similarly long, ornamented sleeves. She had a peace-bonded dirk that looked as though it were more for show than for defense, but its mere presence, resting calmly at the lady's left side, spoke to Iordyn of a woman who was more than met the eye.
"Good morning to you gentlemen," the lady smiled, extending her willowy right hand in a way that left no doubt about what she expected. "I am Lady Tauriana Harlhaun of Delzimmer, wife to Lord Jhiden Marliir- first of Arabel, now of Suzail."
Iordyn guided Iona closer to her, then took her hand and bowed, touching his forehead to it.
"Good morning, Lady Marliir. I am Iordyn Raibeart of Marsember, and this is Father Iona, who is in the service of Tyr."
"If the lady will put her hand in mine, then I will greet her properly," Iona smiled politely. "I unfortunately cannot behold her."
"No need; you shall of course pay no homage to anyone but your god," Lad Marliir soothed, her accent-thickened syllables rolling like syrup off a spoon. She retracted her hand slowly once Iordyn had released it. "It would be sinful of anyone to demand otherwise. Now, young Ser Raibeart, your skill with your weapon and your stoutness of heart was much praised in my presence some weeks ago. How fortunate it is for all of us that justice was rightly meted out in your case. It is not often that one hears an epithet such as yours- not in earnest, at least- and my entire household is quite certain that had you been executed, your patron would have exacted a most terrifying revenge."
"You honor me above what I deserve," Iordyn managed, not sure what else to say.
"No, it's deserved," Lady Marliir said smoothly, with a small nod. "My husband still has family members in Arabel who sent us speedy reply when I wrote to them of your case- so strongly worded was their correspondence that I privately submitted the entire letter to Oversword Garimond as character witness. Further, I have personally had many dealings with wicked elements, and no matter how upright I was in their company, their operation did not change. That your good report compelled an obvious criminal to willingly expose herself to justice speaks to some divine influence that ought not be sinned against. Now, if you would please, I'd like to have a private word with Lady Raibeart."
"I sent Sylvester, Salone, and Amadelle upstairs to listen to Sarai practice her lute," Susanna suggested.
"Then we shall go and swell the audience there," Iordyn replied, grateful to not have to remain in Lady Marliir's presence. "With the lady's leave."
"How shall I grant leave in the house of another? Look only to the lady of this place; no one shall countermand her. Now, Ammi, go behind, please. Assist Father Iona in any way that seems necessary, if Ser Iordyn permits you to do so," Lady Marliir ordered. "And tell my little sandstorm that if she dismisses you from the room, you shall have to stand outside it and wait for her there."
Ammi smiled at Lady Tauriana Marliir, some unspoken knowledge resting between them that put a gleam in both pairs of chocolate brown eyes. Lady Marliir nodded to indicate her permission, and Iordyn made his way up the stairs with the utterly silent Iona in tow. Ammi bowed to Lady Marliir, then turned and followed Iordyn and Iona up the stairs, always a few treads behind them.
Tauriana watched them go, and when they had tucked into a room, she turned her attentions back to Susanna, who had in the meantime sat in Stephen's chair.
"Young Ser Raibeart is unused to hearing himself praised, I suppose," Tauriana noted, making her way to the couch opposite Susanna and taking a seat there. "Well, humility is a becoming trait. Now, I had believed the baby to already be in your arms; will you have to wait much longer to have him?"
"A few weeks yet," Susanna replied kindly.
"Ah, wonderful. Shilon, the gift, please," Tauriana said, turning and motioning to a man who had been standing in the far corner of the room, close to the kitchen. He stepped briskly forward, and from a large satchel at his side produced a well-woven blanket. Tauriana accepted the blanket from his hands, then rose to lay it on Susanna's lap. "There. The dye colors and ribbons are uncommon here, but simple to come by in Delzimmer; I hope you will think of myself and my homeland kindly when you look upon them. Take it; may it keep you in good health now, and may it be of comfort for many years."
Once Shilon had handed the blanket over, he stepped back toward the far corner of the room without needing to be ordered there. Susanna, who had been gazing at the rich, deep sea green star burst at the center of the piece in contrast with the sandy tan and sun bleached white yarn and bright gold ribbon carefully worked around it, found herself stunned to look up and realize that the servant responsible for bringing it over had moved so quietly and quickly back to where he'd come from. The native Cormite cleared her throat delicately, trying to fight the entirely unreasonable sensation that she was sitting in her front room with the best born and mannered thieves or assassins in Suzail.
"It's beautiful- thank you, my lady; many thanks," she finally managed from a dry throat. "I can offer little, but if you'd like some tea satchels, or perhaps some cooling poultices, I can have some specially made for you."
"Dear Lady Raibeart, it's a gift, not a trade," Tauriana said warmly. "Further, it, like this meeting, is somewhat overdue. Now, since your Sylvester came to learn the art of fine lettering from my husband, my Amadelle has been often in the company of your Salone. Tell me, have you given any thought to apprenticing your little dove?"
Susanna smoothed her hands over the blanket. "No, I hadn't," she said honestly. "I wasn't quite sure that would be the best decision to make."
"Well, the decision might presently make itself," Tauriana said as she gently flicked her hand as though she were shooing a fly. "It's come to my attention that she and my little sandstorm have nearly made businesswomen of themselves. Now, I am descended from a long line of profitable traders, but until getting involved with... what is this?... Blight's Blessings?"
"Bliss's Blessings, my lady," Susanna corrected with a withered tone.
"Yes, Bliss's Blessings; that's right. Until this-" Tauriana waved her deeply bronzed hand over the sitting room table, upon which various salves and creams sat displayed, "-my little sandstorm had absolutely no interest in market whatsoever. Imagine my surprise when she proved herself to be sharp at drumming up public interest in these wares, and at bartering!"
"I... can't say Salone could have been much help in that," Susanna said as she looked down at the blanket again. "She's... very quiet."
"If you mean that 'Saint Stone' matter, I've heard complaint of it," Tauriana said with a slight frown. "No child breathed that in Amadelle's hearing without her thundering about it to me, and as I unfortunately deliberated just a second too long in dealing with it, for her taste, I have heard that she has learned to tell her furry friend to handle it for all of us."
Susanna hummed in understanding. She had, of course, heard no such thing- yet another matter that Salone had been keeping to herself. Susanna promised herself that she would ask Sarai to discreetly learn which children had seen the wrong side of Niku's claws or teeth due to calling Salone the mean-spirited nickname. If nothing else, she felt she owed them salves, or a trip to a healer.
"As I was saying," Tauriana continued in a thoughtful tone, noting Susanna's distant look, "my family excelled at trading in Delzimmer, and I would be pleased to have Salone as an apprentice... if that seems to be the best decision to make."
"Thank you-" Susanna began tenuously.
"Although, of course, it would also be a great honor to her to be sent to an order, as once you were sent," Tauriana said with a small, sly smile. "Any matron mother would be quite pleased to have her, I'm sure."
Susanna's eyes misted up immediately, and she covered her face in embarrassment. Surprised beyond all high society pretense, Tauriana moved quickly from where she sat to the cushioned chair, where Susanna normally sat when Stephen was occupying his own chair. Gently, Tauriana took Susanna's rosy hands in her own earthy, smooth ones, pulling them away from her face.
"I'm no good at polite chatter, and should have been more myself from the start... I don't mean to try your feelings, at this of all times," Tauriana whispered, bending her frame just a bit in order to catch Susanna's weepy eyes. "This is what comes of toying with words instead of getting straight to the point. Dear lady, I mean only this: your daughter has done mine nothing but good, ever since your son brought her to our home with him the first time. Even her sewing has improved- look... here, look at this, and delight your heart. This work on the left is done by your gentle dove, trying to get my wild sandstorm to slow down and place her stitches properly- take it and look. Let your spirit by it be at least soothed."
With one hand, Tauriana tugged at a bit of fabric that had been tucked into her belt. Susanna blinked and brushed at her eyes for a few moments as Tauriana spread the fabric out on her lap atop the blanket, and in no time, the contrast of the uneven, haphazard stitching on the right side against the consistent, well-spaced stitching on the left brought a few promising puffs out of her.
"Well, go ahead and laugh!" Tauriana happily encouraged as she squeezed the hand that she still held in her own just a bit. "I keep it near me, as you see, since Amadelle finishes so few homely projects that every one is a treasure. As shameful as this should have been to me, I had to play act most of my annoyance at my sweet sandstorm. The great Warfalcon, Anhur, has clearly called her to be some sort of fighter; his claim cannot be argued against with stitch work, or perfumes, or pretty dresses. Both of your daughters are of a mind to be good stewards of their homes, but imagine what liberties I shall have to beg of Amadelle's father, in a few short years, to prevent her running off to 'seek her fortune' when she has plenty of wealth at home."
"Oh!" Susanna exclaimed suddenly, her free hand flying to her face again. "The Raibeart family has lost a daughter to the sea in such a way. I pray little Dellie keeps herself from such dangerous fancies."
"Hah! Unless my husband comes to his senses, and realizes that no begging, yelling, or paddling will prevail against the call of the storm god himself, I expect every dangerous fancy to put claws deep into her heart," Tauriana sighed wearily, as she turned straight in the cushioned chair and rested her free hand in her own lap. "That's why I'm laying siege to the battlements of his pride now; I'm no fool."
"May your goddesses take special interest in the matter," Susanna said sincerely, placing her free hand atop the one of Tauriana's that was still in her lap.
Tauriana turned a grateful smirk toward Susanna. "Well, in the meantime, Salone's company has given Amadelle just a bit more self-awareness, a bit more focus, and a bit more forethought. I know that ultimately, I have you to thank, hmm? If Salone will be a merchant, I'm happy to train her. If she will be a priestess of some sort, then I'm just as happy to call in a few favors to help her get into an order. If it turns out that all our two little ones want to do is to continue to be in each other's company, then we might scheme together, and convince your husband to allow Salone to be the paid lady-in-waiting to whatever type of warrior that Amadelle will be- I'm certain she wouldn't let your little dove come to harm."
Susanna looked down at the blanket in her lap. "I thank you for the interest you've taken in the matter- I'll offer prayers and see what Salone wishes to tell me of her own aspirations. Outside of the machinations of others, she... seems to have few."
Tauriana reached across herself and raised Susanna's head with a firm first finger pressed under her chin. "She speaks when she has to, my sandstorm says; I believe that of both her and you. Look, all this while we've been speaking of apprenticing your younger daughter, while your elder daughter is still without trade training- I suppose I shall have to compel you to tell me about her, so here is my blatant attempt. It would be unseemly to have your dove begin to try her wings before your raven."
Susanna sighed and moved Tauriana's hand away from her face. "Sarai is talented in many ways- stitching, weaving, cooking, house keeping- she plays the lute correctly, albeit without much artistic flare. And she reads and cyphers well. I had tried to make a place for her with the menders and weavers, but... well... there was a slight setback, and a few relationships were damaged in the process."
Tauriana retracted the hand that had been under Susanna's chin and sat straight in the cushioned chair again. "I don't have any connections in that guild beyond simple trade agreements," she mused. "Might she be the sort that keeps tightly to the house rules? I have friends in customs that might have use of her, if so."
"Oh, yes; she's very fond of all rules," Susanna laughed, almost to herself. "But, I don't know much about what 'customs' entails."
"Ah- the folks at the ports who determine whether cargo from out-of-country ought to be permitted entry or not, and how much those delivering it should be charged for the privilege of marketing whatever-it-is here, especially if another variation of the product already exists within the country," Tauriana expertly explained. "Now, as a commoner who hasn't any hand in trade, it's to be expected that you have no idea of the process that marketing a product outside the confines of one's country entails. But said process keeps the traders in the country safe, and offers those outside of the country the chance to get another market for their product. The trick is to make it profitable for the out-of-country merchant while keeping competition possible for the in-country merchant- usually via fees and special allowances. One absolutely must follow the rules without playing favourites, but frankly, that's not the sort of thing everyone can manage."
"No, Sarai is very much one for following rules and standards," Susanna nodded. "If she had any more of a spiritual bent, she would be going straight to an order, definitely."
"Then perhaps such a post, with its clear, unwavering standards, would be a good fit for her," Tauriana pronounced smilingly, patting Susanna's hand and rising from the chair. "I shall set about asking a few friends if they wouldn't mind showing Sarai around their offices. Bear in mind, they don't have contact with the sailors themselves, which keeps the ladies who work in customs beyond reproach."
"I wasn't even thinking of that," Susanna admitted, shifting around in Stephen's chair with the intention of standing herself.
"Don't worry, dear lady," Tauriana beamed. "We shall think together, and that way, more shall be thought altogether. Now, you must be weary. We'll leave you to your rest- Shilon? If you would please be so kind."
The quiet servant raised his left hand and snapped once.
"There. Now, the next time I visit-"
There was a small commotion upstairs, punctuated with a whine that had become fairly familiar to Susanna. Tauriana gave a small tight smile and held up a finger, interrupting herself. She stepped back just far enough to meet the bottom of the stairs in order to address her daughter.
"Amadelle Zhippora, if I have to climb a single step to reclaim you, you will find yourself very embarrassed before your friends."
Amadelle popped into view almost immediately. "I'm sorry, Mama!"
"Don't run," Tauriana said, just as her daughter began taking a few hurried steps. "Head up, arms strong, and act appropriately to your station."
Amadelle straightened her back, picked up her voluminous skirts, and began gingerly making her way down the stairs. Ammi, whose cheeks were bright with either embarrassment or effort, was just a few steps behind her.
"As I was saying," Tauriana continued importantly, "The next time I visit, I shall bring you word of what and what can be done in terms of either an apprenticeship with my compatriots at the customs office or some other sort of regulatory position- I honestly can't think of anything else now, but my husband may be able to make a suggestion or two."
"Your ladyship is very kind to-" Susanna began, attempting to curtsey with her hand gripping the back of Stephen's chair for balance.
Tauriana interrupted with light laughter. "Nevermind titles and reverences! My little sandstorm has become 'Dellie' in this house, and your sweet dove has made herself 'Lona' in mine. Further, parenting- save the fact that the nobility in this country hardly deigns to parent themselves- is exactly the same in every place, rank and class matter not."
"That's true," Susanna smiled shyly. "I had wondered why Dellie responded so quickly, and so well, to the lightest of reprimands."
"I should be quite displeased, quite thoroughly displeased, if I should hear that the admonitions of a certain friend's parent had been disreguarded out of some deluded perception of upper or lower class," Tauriana stated strongly, eying Amadelle as she finished coming down the stairs and stood still at the bottom. "Now, dear friend's parent, I shall be quite pleased to cultivate between us the sort of relationship that our children have. From this moment forth, I shall be nothing but Taura, and when you have time and health to enter into my house, you shall there be as well-cherished among my few friends as any of so-called high birth. I shall trust Shilon, who has seen you, to announce you properly to all the servants in my household; you and any you bring with you to my home shall be to them as I am."
Shilon immediately bowed deeply to Susanna. The commoner woman felt herself sorely so, and simply nodded her agreement to the formal declaration of friendship that she found herself nervous to think about, let alone exercise.
The dark skinned, almond eyed woman opened her arms and smiled broadly at Susanna, who stood up straight and laid the blanket that had been in her other arm in the chair beside her. Slowly, tentatively, Susanna made her way toward Tauriana, and received a warm, genuine embrace as soon as she had come close enough to reach. After a moment, Susanna returned the hug, and allowed herself to feel comfortable with the noblewoman's strong arms, the filmy fabric that covered her head and neck, and the orange, vanilla, and cinnamon scent that pricked the native Cormite's nose.
"There, dear Susanna-"
"Suze," Susanna smiled. "If you're Taura, then I'm just Suze."
"Dear Suze!" Tauriana squeezed her hug just a bit tighter, then let go entirely. "We shall leave you alone- come, little sandstorm- but do expect that we shall ask after your health and well being often. Gods bless you and your house; fare thee well."
Amadelle walked with just barely controlled energy over to her mother, who took her small hand. Ammi finished descending the steps and maintained his distance, which stranded him somewhat off to Susanna's right side. Only after a meaningful look from Shilon did Ammi realize that he should have crossed behind his lady to stand at the elder servant's side. The young man, looking much more boyish in comparison with Shilon than he had looked when standing at attention on his own, nearly scurried behind his patron to get to the more appropriate position. Tauriana took no notice- or at least pretended that she didn't. Shilon nearly burned Ammi alive with his eyes. Susanna looked away at once, concerned that her attention could be making the matter worse.
"Lathander's blessings on you," Susanna said kindly, purposefully turning her attention to Amadelle, who excitedly waved at her and at someone else behind her.
Shilon gracefully moved to open the door for Tauriana, then allowed Ammi to hold the door as he went through himself. Susanna quietly wiggled her fingers at the younger man to say goodbye as he quietly slipped through the door after his family. By the time the door closed silently behind him, Salone had sat at the bottom of the steps.
"They don't believe in Lathander," she noted, looking at her mother.
"I don't believe in their gods either," Susanna said. "But perhaps their gods may bless us, and perhaps Lathander may bless them, reguardless. Gods are different to petty Humans, are they not?"
Salone said nothing, but smiled genuinely. Susanna felt her heart quicken in her chest.
"Well, being visited by nobility in the mid-morning- that's our major happening for the whole ten-day," she said, turning back to the chair to recover the blanket. "To think; I was too nervous even to offer Lady Taura biscuits or water. Look, she has given this to us; would you please place it in the baby bed upstairs?"
With a silent nod, Salone got up and took the blanket from her mother. Susanna watched her young daughter go all the way up the stairs with it, her eyes again welling up with tears that she was almost annoyed at for appearing.
Dear Mother Chauntea. Though you be my patron, and not hers, I pray you protect her. Keep her from witchery. Keep my precious little girl from any shade of witchery, and be friend to her patron, whoever they are.
A fresh, unmixed seabreeze pushed its way into the smithy underneath the Raibeart house. Saul let the leather bands with which he was working go slack in his hands for a moment, and Stephen, unusually chilled by the breeze, stopped shaping the steel with which he'd been working. He looked out to the water that, of course from his inland position, he could not see.
Aleksei picked the blade that he had been sharpening up from the grindstone.
A few seconds later, Stephen came to himself and looked at Aleksei. "What're you pushing the pedal for, if you're not going to let the stone do its work?"
Saul, self-conscious, began eagerly pulling at the leather bands, hoping his father wouldn't notice that he'd ever stopped.
Aleksei shrugged. "It is seeming to me like someone is speaking to you. I am wanting to be polite to this someone, and sharpening metal makes much squealing- much loud, unpleasant noise. Not good for the hearing. Also very impolite to the speaking. Mamoshka never is raising me to be impolite."
Stephen looked at the Dragonborn. "Either you're not crazy or we both are," he said simply. While he had meant it to be a joke, as Aleksei had supposedly been cleared of the suspicion of brainworms weeks before, the blacksmith's tone wasn't light enough for the comment to be entirely taken without seriousness.
"We both are," Aleksei confirmed. "Although I am not always understanding why others are wanting this to not be true. We who are crazy are feeling, hearing, and seeing the things that we must be feeling, hearing, and seeing, only by breathing awake, while those who are not crazy must go everywhere and do everything, and are only receiving silence. We are having the easier time, we who are crazy. We must be very kind to those who are not; their lives are much colder, and they are never finding fires without us."
Saul stole a glance at his father, and found a deeply pensive look etched into the blacksmith's face.
At long last, Stephen pressed his lips between his teeth and nodded, having understood Aleksei's sentiment despite not understanding all of his words. After a few more seconds of knowing silence, the two got back to work.
Saul, having never dealt with as many questions of sanity as he'd heard in the past month, decided to talk to Sarai about what madness might or might not mean. After all, she was only two years younger than he, and she usually knew how things really were.
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