A Lesson in Independence
···•••·•••·•••·•••···
By the time the quintet saw the walls of Havbo in the distance, they had been on the road three
days. Dawn wanted to cry, she was so happy. While this trip across the desert
had been a lot easier than the last one, she had come to the conclusion that
extended travel just wasn’t her thing. She liked having the luxury of a bath
and a bed every day, not just once in a while.
Then again, the trip had given the musicians three days of
isolation in which to teach her how to play the cyar’dil.
She was sure that if others had been around, they would have killed her—she was
that bad. Well, she had been that bad. Now she was at least bearable, even if
she could only just play the practice scales Duens had shown her. The walking
actually made it easier on her, since she didn’t get bored sitting around and
could watch the scenery as it passed by. At first, she’d only wanted to learn
to play so that she could support herself while traveling with the musicians
and looking for Xander. It had turned out to be fun, though, so she was taking
to it with more enthusiasm.
She still wasn’t good enough to play with them, so they
had informed her that she’d be responsible for buying some of their supplies
and getting them rooms at a local inn. Dawn had been terrified of the
responsibilities. After all, she only knew a few words of any language other
than English—only the ones that the others had taught her, which at this point
were things like good morning, hello, and good-bye. Prall had waved off her
worries, explaining that even in Havbo practically
everyone spoke at least some of the trade tongue.
She’d then argued that she didn’t understand their
monetary system—all the money was in coins and she didn’t know what was written
on them, how much they were worth, or what the supplies she was getting were
worth. How would she know if she was getting ripped off?
That had set off a flurry of hasty lessons, some of which
she found quite enlightening. As it turned out, what was written on the coins
wasn’t really important. Each region minted its own money, but they’d managed
to standardize what each coin was worth, so that no matter where you were, all
money was equal. What did surprise Dawn was that the gold coins were really
gold, and the silver coins were really silver. She guessed that the idea of
paper money and treasuries hadn’t caught on here. Oh well.
Having learned that, she felt a little better. Prall,
being the one of the group with the best haggling abilities, instructed her on
the value of what she’d be getting. Dawn had been with him when he’d bought
some of their supplies in Baign, and again in Ingh’k.
In Havbo, she would be responsible for purchasing
meat for herself, Prall, and Marni. Beyond that, she was to find them rooms.
That really scared her.
“But I don’t know anything about getting hotel rooms! What
is a good price? Where do you want to stay?” Dawn asked as the neared Havbo.
Marni rolled her eyes. “We’re not picky, Dawn. Look for a
place that includes a meal or two a day and where we can reasonably afford two
rooms. One is a bit cramped for all of us. Being in the desert, Havbo’s going to have a wellhouse
instead of private water facilities.”
“Once you find the rooms and reserve them, go do your
shopping. You’re going to want to pick up some clothes for yourself, too.
There’s extra money in the pouch Prall gave you for that,” Duens said.
Dawn looked down at herself. She’d only been in this world
a little while, and her clothes were already in horrible condition—even her
boots, which she’d thought were pretty tough. Still, she hadn’t earned any of
this money, and it wouldn’t last forever. “I can’t—“
“We can’t have you getting sick or hurt before you even
start to earn your keep,” Marni said gruffly. “So get something more
appropriate to wear. I’m sure there’s a least one tailor in this hold. After
all, it’s a bit bigger than the last place.”
Dawn looked about ready to protest, so Zhaen stepped in.
“You will start paying us back soon enough, Dawn, so stop worrying about the
money. We didn’t choose this type of journey to become rich; it is a way for us
to learn and master our trade. The money is solely to keep us alive and fed.”
Dawn nodded and remained silent. She didn’t like it, but
then again she didn’t have many choices. “Where should I find you when I’m
done?”
“We’ll meet at the wellhouse at
sundown,” Prall said. “By then we should know if we’re going to play for the
hold, and if there’s anyone here that might have seen Xander.” It wasn’t likely
that they had; no one in Baign or Ingh’k had seen
anyone even remotely matching his description. As Marni had told Dawn, though,
the world was a huge place—Xander may not have ended up anywhere near where
Dawn was. That had scared the girl a lot, but she’d understood what it meant.
Xander might be on the other side of the world. That possibility alone had made
Dawn very determined to at least learn to travel well and quickly, even if she
never learned to like it.
···•••·•••·•••·•••···
When they reached Havbo, Prall
talked briefly with the guards before they entered. Soon afterwards, the
musicians went to find the hold’s elders and seek out temporary employment.
Even if the hold itself didn’t have anything for them, they might know someone
in Havbo that wanted entertainment of some sort.
Dawn, meanwhile, stared down the main street with wide,
frightened eyes. “Inn first,” She muttered, looking around. Yes, everyone spoke
her language. Unfortunately, all the signs were in orth. Sighing,
she started down one side of the street, peering into shops and stores. After
ten minutes, she was about to give up. Everything looked the same!
Finally she found what she thought was a meat vender—the
stuff inside the shop looked like what she and Prall had shopped for in Baign.
She stepped inside, blinking at the light change. “May I help you?” Dawn turned
toward the shopkeeper, orienting on his voice.
“Um, yeah—I think. Actually, I do need to shop here, but I
need something else first,” Dawn explained. The orth looked at her questioningly.
“I’m just passing through and I don’t read a word of orth, but I need to find
an inn. Could you show me what a sign for that would look like?”
“Ah! Of course, although if I may ask, how did a human who
can’t read orth even a little, or speak it, I presume, get here?” The orth
asked as he looked for something to write on. “Let me find some paper—“
“Wait!” Dawn said, shrugging off her pack. “I’ve got some
paper.” She withdrew her journal and turned to a blank page, handing it and a
pen to the orth. “I’m traveling with some musicians from a long way off,” She
explained.
The orth peered oddly at her pen. “Do you have any ink?”
Dawn giggled. “It’s there, just write
with it.” The orth tried it, goggling at the magically appearing line. After a
moment, he began to write.
“I’m putting the alphabet on the top here, so you can see
the letters. Sometimes things are spelled a bit differently here and there,”
The orth explained. “An ‘inn’ is generically ‘yutho’
in orth. Most of the time there’s a name to go along with it, like ‘thwe’, which means ‘warm’.” As he spoke, he wrote out
individual words. “Is there anywhere else you want to go?”
Dawn thought for a moment. “Well, I need some clothes, and
some boots—and a woodworker, if there’s one around here.” The orth started
writing again, explaining each word and telling her where the best one in town
was.
When he was done, Dawn took the notebook and stowed it
away. “I’ll be back once I’ve gotten the rooms, Urru.
Thanks a lot!” The orth waved as she trotted out of the store. Getting that
information had lifted her spirits a lot—and he’d suggested a
couple of inns she could try that were reasonable.
The first one was a bit less reasonable than she’d have
liked, so she quickly left and found the second one. It was much better—and
cheaper as well. The innkeeper looked askance at her until she explained that
she was reserving it for her companions, who were musicians—and showed him her cyar’dil. Mentioning the meat vender, Urru,
didn’t hurt either. The two rooms were quickly paid for and Dawn stored her
pack in one of them. It was a bit heavy and she didn’t want to lug it around.
Urru was waiting on another customer
when she returned, so she perused the selection of dried meats he had. There
were some fresh ones behind the counter, but she knew that she needed the dried
stuff, since the other would spoil long before they got around to eating it.
Dawn wished she knew what the meats were, because they all looked the same to
her.
“What do you need?” Urru asked
when the other customer had left. Dawn squinted as she studied a string of
dried sausages.
“There are five of us, but only me, an orth and a f’lh need meat. It’s for at least five days,” Dawn said.
She’d been given amounts by Prall, but she wanted to see how much Urru tried to sell her.
“What do you want?” Urru asked.
Dawn shrugged. “Phrang is fine,
as is ifnan or sreel.” Urru
nodded and began to retrieve a bag. “Oh, I’ve got one of those,” Dawn said,
handing over the bag Prall had given her. Urru
weighed it and adjusted the scale.
“Sreel is out of season here,
and I’m out of phrang. However, I do have a mixture
of all three; the pieces are small since they’re scraps, but the quality is as
high as any single type,” Urru said, pointing to one
bin. The stuff looked ok to Dawn, so she nodded.
“Wait—why is it so much less expensive?” Dawn asked,
noticing the numbers on the bin. Urru had written out
numbers for her, and she’d memorized them rather quickly.
“It’s best for soups and stews—and it’s mixed up, instead
of one kind,” Urru explained. Dawn nodded for him to
continue. Buying that would stretch their money quite a bit, but it would be
bad if it wasn’t what the others wanted. She’d take the chance, though.
The rest of the purchasing didn’t take long; she decided
not to haggle, since Urru had been so nice to her.
After tying the bag to her belt, Dawn turned to go up the street to the tailor
and the bootmaker.
The tailor was a huge woman with snow white hair who took
one look at Dawn and screamed. “Yeah, I need some clothes,” Dawn said in reply.
“You need a lot of clothes, girl. Why would your parents
dress you like that?” The lady said.
Dawn grimaced. “They’re dead, m’am.”
The orth stepped back a little and shook her head.
“My apologies, then. No matter; I’m sure there’s
something here that will work for you, even if there aren’t any humans in Havbo for me to sew for,” She said, indicating to Dawn that
she should follow her back into a storage room.
Inside the room was row after row of chests. The woman
went to some along a back wall and threw them open. “You’re sort of thin and
leggy, and you prefer trousers, do you not?”
Dawn nodded. ‘They’re easier for traveling.”
“Then we’ll look at boy’s clothing. Orth are a lot bigger
than you. Do you want new clothes, or used ones?” The woman asked.
Dawn thought for a moment. One side of her demanded new
clothes—she didn’t shop at thrift stores! But the more rational side saw the
potential benefits of used clothing. It was cheaper, and if she hit another
growth spurt—she was due for one, after all, she wouldn’t have wasted money on
new clothing. “Used,” She replied.
The woman nodded, as though that was what she was
expecting. “I have plenty of that—and it can be altered to fit at no charge.”
Dawn soon found herself stripped down, trying on garment
after garment. The woman, Pifne, clucked and tugged
and discarded piece after piece. Dawn found the entire process both humorous
and tiring.
After almost an hour, though, she had three pairs of
trousers, five shirts, a vest of sorts like what Prall wore but smaller,
another hat—one that fit, gloves, boots, socks, and undergarments. Pifne insisted that she also take a cloak, although she
refused to charge for it, because the only one that came close to fitting the
girl was damaged. She fixed the tears while Dawn waited, but still wouldn’t
take anything for it. “You take it, or I’ll stitch it to you!” Pifne had said. Dawn grinned and took it, bundling her new
clothes inside and hefting it under her arm. She was particularly happy to have
been able to get good boots here and not at the bootmaker’s
shop—they would be much more expensive there.
Dawn stood outside the tailor’s, wondering if she should
head straight to the inn or go to the woodworker’s place to get her cyar’dil looked at. Duens had said she could have it dyed,
and she’d really like it to look a little better. Dawn looked up at the sky,
trying to remember what Prall had taught her about timekeeping. She had lots of
time left; at least she thought she did, so she decided to try the woodworker.
She took one look at the cyar’dil
and nearly fainted. “How could you!” She muttered.
“I didn’t. It was like that when I got it,” Dawn
explained.
“Ah, so that’s why you’ll even let me see this mess. You
want it refinished or just dyed?”
Dawn frowned. “What’s the difference?”
Oin, the woodworker, sighed. “I can
sand it down, to try to get rid of some of the stains that way, and dye it, or
just dye it. If I don’t remove the stains first, the only colors I could color
it to cover up the stains would be very dark. Of course, if I refinish it and
the stains are very deep, the color will still have to be dark.”
“Will it sound different?” Dawn asked.
Oin nodded. “It might—the wood is a
bit thin on the end, so it might sound hollow afterwards.”
Dawn shook her head. She liked the way it sounded. “Just
dye it, then.”
“Fine. What color?”
“What do you have?” Dawn asked.
“For this? Black, or very dark blue, green,
or red,” the woodworker replied.
Dawn thought for a moment. “Dark blue.”
Oin nodded. “It will take a little
while. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow morning to retrieve it?”
Dawn agreed and paid for the repair
work. Simple dying didn’t cost much—something she was very happy about. She
looked up when she left the shop, appalled at how late it was. Knowing she had
barely two hours left, Dawn raced to the inn to store her clothes and pick up
some soap. She retrieved the smallest sliver she could find, so that she
wouldn’t have to return to put it away. Just because there had been soap at the
wellhouse in Ingh’k didn’t
mean there would be here—Marni had told her that. She decided to wear her new
clothes, so she changed before she left—that way she didn’t have to carry the
old ones back.
When she got to the wellhouse,
Dawn waltzed right into the south chambers like an expert, proud that she
didn’t have to ask for directions or anything. It took her a minute to find an
empty room, since there were a lot of people inside, but she did find one. As
she had expected, there wasn’t any soap here. She quickly unclothed and dunked
into the water, yelping when she found it warm instead of cold. It was nearly
room temperature, in fact. Maybe they heated their water here.
The bath was refreshing and Dawn didn’t want to get out,
but she knew she needed to meet the others. She drained and refilled the pool,
then sat on a bench to let herself dry while she
braided her hair. It was the best way to keep the stuff out of her face,
especially when it got greasy from not being washed every day. By the time she
had finished with that, she was dry enough to dress.
On her way out, she noticed that there was a small dish
near the door, partly full of coins. Dawn quickly realized that it was a
collection dish, so she dug out some of her leftover money and deposited a
small silver piece. She didn’t want to anger anyone by not paying for the
water, after all.
···•••·•••·•••·•••···
The musical quartet exited the great hall and headed
toward the wellhouse. Discussions, both formal and
informal, had taken hours and they were ready to find Dawn and get something to
eat. They were all rather upset with the outcome of the discussions, since
after all their work nothing had come out of them.
“How do you think she did?” Marni asked as the neared the wellhouse.
Duens shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope she at least found
an inn, though.” They had decided one night after she fell asleep that she
needed to learn how to get around on her own. Havbo
was an excellent place for that, since Prall was a bit more familiar with it—a cousin
of his used to live in the hold. The hold had no humans at all, and to his
knowledge any slave traders of any species. They had asked some of the orth in Ingh’k about the humans in Baign, only to learn that the
teacher had in fact been a slaver, not an instructor.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Zhaen said quietly, although she
was a bit worried. The only person other than the guard that she could see near
the wellhouse was a young orth boy leaning against
the outside wall.
When the got to the wellhouse, the foursome stood to one side of the main
entrance, waiting for Dawn. After a couple of minutes, they heard high-pitched
laughter. Turning, they saw the young orth boy walking toward them.
“How were the negotiations?” Dawn asked, amused that they
hadn’t recognized her.
“Dawn!” Marni explained, taking in her appearance. “Do we
have rooms?”
“Yup, two of them and not too far away,” Dawn replied.
“Supplies?” Duens asked.
Dawn nodded. “In the room. Here’s
the leftover money,” She said, handing Duens the bag. His eyes widened slightly
at the amount left over.
“And you found clothes, I see,” Prall commented. Dawn
grinned.
“The only kind they have here is orth,” Dawn replied. “So
now I’m dressing in little boys’ clothing.”
Zhaen laughed. “It’s better than what you had before.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dawn replied. “So, the
negotiations?”
“There is absolutely nothing for us to do here, so we’re
leaving in the morning,” Duens said in disgust. All those long hours of
discussion had led nowhere. It had frustrated all of them.
Dawn was disappointed, but she tried to hide it. “We’ll
need to stop by the woodworker’s shop on the way out. She’s dying my cyar’dil.”
Duens nodded. He had suggested that she get it colored,
and he wasn’t surprised that she had. It really was hideous. He also noted that
she’d taken active possession of the instrument. That was good; it meant she
was more dedicated to learning how to play it.
“Well, let’s get back to the inn. I’m hungry,” Marni said.
The others dutifully followed Dawn to the inn, filling her in on the wasted
day. She certainly saw why they were frustrated. After all, if you knew you
weren’t going to hire someone, why lead them on all day?