was very colorful. Then the two of them came out again. ‘I didn’t
realize they were quite that bad,’ Kablek admitted glumly. ‘Tell me
exactly what the trapper ought to do to take care of that.’
Davon explained how the bark of certain trees preserved animal
skins_ ‘If your trappers do that as soon as they take the pelt, I’ll be
able to finish the process here,’ he concluded. ‘Believe me, Kablek,
it’ll at least double the price you’ll get when you bring them here
to Darine.’
I’ll see what the trappers have to say about that.’
‘If you refuse to buy rotten pelts, they’ll get your point almost
immediately.’
‘I’ll try it,’ Kablek grunted. Then he squinted at me. ‘Are you sure
you won’t sell this one to me?’ he asked Davon. ‘You’ve got two,
and no sane man needs two of them.’
‘I’m sorry, Kablek, but she’s not for sale.’
Kablek gave him a sour look. ‘I’m going back to that tavern,’ he
said. ‘I’ll see you next spring.’ Then he reeled out of the shop.
‘What was that all about?’ I demanded.
‘He didn’t believe me when I told him that the pelts he was trying
to sell me weren’t very good.’
‘That’s not what I meant, Davon. What is it that’s not for sale?’
‘You, Aunt Pol,’ Davon said innocently. ‘His offer was very
attractive, though. You should be flattered.’
‘What?’ Alnana almost screamed.
‘It’s a peculiarity of Nadrak culture, dear,’ I explained. ‘Women
are considered property, and they can be bought and sold.’
‘Slavery?’
‘It’s a little more complicated than that, Alnana. I’ll explain it to
you someday – when we’re alone.’
A month or so later, a demure young woman with dark blonde
hair came into the shop, ostensibly to look at sable muffs.
‘That’s the one, Pol,’ mother’s voice came to me.
‘I sort of noticed that myself’,’ I sent the thought back. ‘It’s almost
like a bell ringing, isn’t it?’
‘You’re getting better at this, Pol. A few more generations and I’ll be
out Of a job.’
The blonde girl’s name was Ellette, and she and Alten evidently
also heard the bell mother and I’d been talking about.
. They were married the following winter, and Alten didn’t seem
too unhappy about giving up bachelorhood.
We were all quite happy in Darine, but just between you and me,
I had some reservations about the situation there. The family was
still just a little too prosperous – and too much in the public eye
to suit me. There were also inevitable contacts with foreigners.
Kablek was a friend of the family, and I more or less trusted him, – as
far as I’ve ever trusted any Angarak – but I’d have felt much better
had we never met. The best-intentioned Angarak in the world will
still tell any Grolim who comes by just about anything the Grolim wants
to know. I decided during our stay in Darine that port cities
should be avoided, and large interior cities as well. Villages would
undoubtedly be safer. Townsmen are too busy and too
selfimportant to pay all that much attention to strangers, but villagers
don’t really have that much to talk about, so every passing stranger
is the main topic of conversation in the village tavern for a week or
so. That in itself would give me plenty of warning, since there are
ways for me to listen in on such discussions without being forced
to endure the sour reek of stale beer. Village life can be boring, but
the safety it’d provide would more than make up for the tedium.
The family prospered in Darine, and we lingered there for
probably too many years. In 4071, Alten’s wife Ellette gave birth to a son,
whom Alten insisted on naming Geran in honor of his grandfather. I
didn’t really think that was a good idea, all things considered, but
Alten was adamant. Davon continued to buy furs from Nadraks
and occasional Drasnians, and Alten continued to convert those furs
into garments that sold very well. Alnana died 4077, and Davon
went into a steep decline after her death. That’s more common than
you might think. Sometimes grief will carry you off faster than any
disease.
It was in the year 4080 that one of those itinerant pestilences
which roamed the ancient world sprang up again in Darine, and it
wiped out half the population, including Davon, Alten, and Ellette,
who all died within a few hours of each other despite my best efforts
to save them. That was one time when I didn’t flee from some
inquisitive Murgo. I fled that disease instead. Immediately after the
funeral, I closed up the house and the shop, took whatever money
was lying around, and young Geran and I left Darine, going to
where else – the safety of my house by the lake.
We stayed there for several years, and to pass the time – and
provide for the future – I taught Geran the rudiments of the healing
arts. He was an attentive, though hardly gifted, student, and I had
some hopes for his future. When we came out of seclusion and I
set him up in practice in Medalia, however, I soon realized that he’d
‘lever be a first-rate physician. He seemed to lack the ability to
diagnose the illnesses his patients brought to him.
He married late – in his mid-thirties – and his wife bore him a
son to continue the line, and four daughters as well.
Despite my disappointment in Geran professionally, I’ll concede
that his status as a mediocre physician served our ultimate purpose
far better than might have been the case were he a world-renowned
healer. He earned enough to get us all by, but that was about all,
and that helped to lower his son’s expectations. The first Geran had
been a prince, and Davon and Alten had been extremely prosperous
tradesmen. The second Geran was a near-failure in his own
profession, so his son didn’t grow up in a splendid house surrounded
by servants. He was good with his hands, though, so I apprenticed
him to a carpenter when he was about twelve. Circumstances
seemed to be cooperating with Hattan’s grand scheme for
submerging Iron-grip’s heirs in obscurity.
Over the next couple of centuries, I sampled most of the trades
and crafts in Sendaria. I raised coopers and weavers, stone-cutters
and cabinet-makers, blacksmiths and masons. My young nephews
were all serious, rather self-effacing craftsmen who took some pride
in their work, and with rare exceptions, I didn’t provide them with
too many details about their heritage. Royal blood doesn’t really
mean very much to a young fellow who spills it every time a tool
slips and he barks his knuckles.
We weren’t exactly vagabonds, but we moved rather frequently,
descending, in the view of some I’m sure, to smaller and smaller
towns and villages with each move. The notion of all our neighbors
serving as watch-dogs appealed to me, and it worked rather well.
I received ample warning Whenever a Murgo passed through
whichever village we were living in, and if the Murgo lingered, I could
come up with ‘a family emergency’ to get us out of town in a hurry.
I was living in the improbably named village of Remote Rundorun
which lay some leagues off the main road that linked Sendar and
Seline. My only family at that time was a descendant of Iron-grip
and Beldaran whose name was Darion. When the gossip about a
Murgo merchant passing through town reached me, I decided that
a change of scene might be appropriate. This time, however, I
decided to change tack and move to a large town rather than an
even smaller village with an even more ridiculous name. Darion
and I packed up our clothing, and I paid a passing wagoner to take
us to the town of Sulturn in central Sendaria.
I’ve always rather liked Sulturn anyway. It’s not as cramped as
Medalia or Seline, and the breeze off the lake is refreshing during
the hot summer months. Darion was about fourteen or so when we
moved there, and I apprenticed him to a cabinet-maker. He was a
strapping young man who gave some promise of being quite a bit
larger than his immediate ancestors. He wouldn’t be quite as big as
Bull-neck had been, but that was all right with me. Hiding giants
might have been very challenging. Darion spent the first year of his
apprenticeship whittling wooden pegs. The craftsman to whom he
was apprenticed was a traditionalist who absolutely despised nails,
believing that good furniture must be pegged together, since nails
work themselves loose, and wobbly cabinets are a sin against the
Gods.
After his year of whittling, Darion was allowed to start building
the backs and sides of wardrobes – those free-standing
clothesclosets that were popular in Sendaria at the time. A wardrobe is an
awkward piece of furniture, but it does allow you to rearrange your