Daughter of Dragons

Chapter 7-1

Chapter 7

The forest was gone now, replaced by a rolling series of grassy hills. The road was changing, too, becoming wider and more congested as one sourceless dirt tributary after another emptied into it. There were also more travellers on it. Most of these were farmers on their way to market with small herds of livestock or the first pick of the new season’s vegetables and fruit, but there was also a string of brown-robed people whom Pieter called pilgrims; a strutting peacock of a man and his equally gaudy entourage; a band of scruffy, leather-clad men on horseback; and a smattering of less conspicuous folks. Some of these people hailed Jamus in passing, and others cast Pieter a neighbourly smile, but absolutely no one reached out to Lathwi in any way.

“She’s not going to have an easy time in Compara,” Jamus predicted, as he and Pieter trailed along behind her. “She’s too fierce. She scares people.”

“She’ll do fine,” the trapper countered. “Liselle will have her civilized in no time.”

“You’ve mentioned this Liselle several times now,” Jamus said then. “Who is she? More importantly, is she pretty?”

“You’re hopeless!”

“I know. But tell me anyway.”

“She’s my mother’s younger sister,” Pieter informed him then. “She took me in when the plague killed my parents. I was thirteen at the time; she was twenty.”

“So that would make her what—thirty, thirty-two now?”

“Thirty-five.”

“Is she married?” Jamus persisted.

“Not a chance,” Pieter replied, sounding both amused and scornful. “She’s far too particular for most men.”

Jamus gave his eyebrows a suggestive waggle. “Maybe she hasn’t met the right man yet.”

“If you’re interested, I’ll gladly introduce you to her when we get to Compara. But let me warn you right now: she’s as apt to turn you to stone as to slap you for any liberties you might be tempted to take.”

“She’s a sorceress?” At Pieter’s nod, he suppressed a shudder. “Perhaps some other time then. I’ve recently had my fill of terrifying women.” He glanced at Lathwi then, as if to refresh his memory. As he did so, inspiration struck. “Does your aunt know you’re bringing Lathwi home with you?”

“No.”

“Really?” He grinned, a blend of anticipation and glee. “How delightful. Perhaps I’ll take you up on that invitation after all.”

They came to the crest of another hill then. Lathwi had reined her stallion to a standstill, and was now staring into the valley below. Her expression was one of horror.

“What’s wrong?” Pieter asked, as he pulled up alongside of her.

She pointed. He looked down and smiled. For there lay Compara, the White-Walled Jewel of the NorthLands. Like most cities, it was both grand and grotesque—a sleek scab on the face of the world. Its lofty towers jutted into the sky only to be obscured by the thin grey smoke of a thousand chimneys. The setting sun’s ruddy light gave that man-made fog a b****y tinge.

“Ah, home at last,” Jamus exclaimed. and then urged his roan into a gallop. As he charged off, he cried, “Good food, warm beds and friendly women, here I come!”

Spurred by the sight of another horse’s dust, Lathwi’s stallion began to follow. She drew him back to a standstill with a savage jerk of the reins. She did not want to descend into that awful city-thing. She could smell its foul breath even from this distance; and its sprawling contours reminded her of an enormous termite mound.

“People live in that?” she asked Pieter.

“They sure do.”

“Disgusting.”

“It can be,” he agreed. “But it can also be exciting once you know where to look.”

“Not good, too many houses,” she went on, as if she had not heard him. “There be no place to hunt. What people eat? Other people?”

He chuckled. “Cityfolk tend to be a little weird, but they certainly aren’t cannibals. When they need food, they simply go to the market and buy it.”

“They use gold to feed themselves?” At his nod, she hissed. “Waste of power.”

“Not if the alternative is going hungry.” When she did not concede that point to him, he added, “Don’t be afraid to spend your gold, Lathwi. You’ll find ways of getting more.”

She did not want to spend her gold. She did not want to live in Compara, either. The mere thought of dwelling within that giant hive made her claustrophobic. She belonged in the open air—like the gypsies. With the gypsies. But that was not an option, she reminded herself. Katya had said so. For better or worse, her fortune was connected to this city. And the sooner she found it, the sooner she could move on.

With that in mind, she urged the bay down the hill.

G

Compara quickly surpassed Lathwi’s worst expectations. There were people all over the place; and they all seemed to be making one kind of noise or another. Her ears ached from the clamour they generated, and her nose was runny from their collective stink. She turned to Pieter, seeking distraction, but he was talking to Jamus. Both men had a glad, homecoming gleam in their eyes. She thought of Shoq then. He would not like Compara, either, she decided, although he would think it great fun to send this giant human herd stampeding down these noisy cobblestone streets. The image cheered her immensely.

Meanwhile, Pieter turned off from the main road and led them into a quieter part of Compara. The houses here did not stand so close together; and beyond the tall white walls that hemmed them in, Lathwi could see treetops and hear songbirds.

“Nice neighbourhood,” Jamus commented.

Shortly thereafter, the road they were following came to a shady dead-end. There was only one house down here: a large stone cottage. Fragrant smoke curled from its chimney.

“Ah, good, she’s home,” Pieter said. “Let’s go in and say hello before we stable the horses.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Jamus replied.

He dismounted then, and unlocked the wrought-iron gate with a key that he’d been carrying in his boot. Lathwi and Jamus followed him into a spacious courtyard that was on the verge of going to seed. Pieter frowned as he looked around. His aunt usually kept her yard in better order. He wondered if she had hurt her back or something, but then figured that she was probably just caught up in other undertakings at the moment.

“Go ahead and tie your horses up at the post,” he told Lathwi and Jamus. “And be sure to wipe your feet on the reed mat before you go inside.”

Jamus did as he was told, but curious Lathwi barged past the cottage’s heavy stone door without a thought for anything but what might lie beyond it. As she crossed the threshold, a tingle like static electricity raced through her. A moment later, a woman came running toward her. The look on her tiny face was one of outrage and alarm.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why have you come?”

Before Lathwi could answer these perfectly reasonable questions, Pieter stepped forward and opened his arms to the approaching woman. Recognition flared in her sea-green eyes, then paled to dismay.

“Pieter!” she croaked. “What are you doing here? And what are you doing with that—that person?”

He chuckled at his aunt’s consternation. It seemed that Lathwi had the same effect on everyone!

“Liselle,” he said, “I want you to meet Lathwi. She’s the reason I’ve come to Compara.”

“Do you know she’s a sorceress?” Liselle snapped, still staring at Lathwi with open distrust.

“Yes,” he replied, a little puzzled by her behaviour now. “That’s why I brought her here. But how did you know?”

The truth was, Liselle’s outer wards had warned her. It had been a faint alarm, triggered by some vague intimation of danger to herself, but she was not taking chances these days. So rather than answer her nephew’s question, she continued to scowl at Lathwi.

Lathwi returned Liselle’s stare, but did not say a word. There was something odd about this runty woman, something as compelling as it was elusive. She glanced past her eyes and into her head, trying for a peek at her thoughts. She caught a glimpse of some wild and nameless fear, an undercurrent of concern for Pieter, then sudden fury and nothing more.

“Who are you?” Liselle hissed then. “What do you want?”

“I Lathwi,” she replied, wholly unruffled by the woman’s hostile tone. “I want know what you got.”

Jamus stepped forward to serve as a moderator then. He found Pieter’s aunt quite attractive: petite and a just a bit plump, with creamy white skin; long, coffee-coloured hair; and a heart-shaped face. When she was upset, as she was now, her sea-green eyes snapped like northern lights. He was curious to see what they would do when she was calm.

“Pardon me,” he began. “But what my good friend Lathwi is trying to say is—”

“Who the hell are you?” Liselle demanded then. “And why do you speak for this woman?”

“Liselle!” Pieter said, grinding her name into a rebuke. This was not like her! True, she could be brusque at times, but she seldom resorted to outright rudeness. “These people are friends of mine. I expect you to treat them as such.”

Liselle’s cheeks turned suddenly rosy. She pressed a hand to her forehead as if feeling for fever, then offered Jamus a wan smile.

“Please forgive me, good sir,” she said. “I’ve never been good with surprises. I’m Liselle, Pieter’s kinswoman. Who might you be?”

“My name is Jamus D’Arques,” he replied, “and I, too, have been taken by surprise. For while your nephew spoke of you often during our journey, he never once mentioned your beauty.”

“To his credit,” she retorted, “my nephew is not prone to bouts of wind.” Then she turned her gaze on Lathwi again. “Tell me what you want of me.”

At that moment, Lathwi knew what it was about the woman that she had sensed but not recognized: power. It was oozing from her pores now—a display of strength and fear. And now she knew why fortune had brought her here.

“Want you teach me.”

Hard ridges beetled Liselle’s brow. “I don’t have the time or the patience to train an apprentice. Especially one as old as you.”

“She’s not exactly a beginner,” Pieter said, arguing on Lathwi’s behalf simply because he did not want her following him back to his cabin. “Show her, Lathwi. Make the fire in the hearth disappear.”

“No!” Liselle blurted.

But she was already too late. The fire vanished with an airy whoosh, leaving the fireplace dark and cold.

“How did you do that?” Liselle demanded, all wide-eyed with wonder now. “And why didn’t it make any noise?”

Lathwi shrugged. “I ask Fire to go, it go.”

“Yes, but what incantation did you use?”

She looked to Pieter for help with the unfamiliar word, but he was busy consoling Jamus. Compara’s fair-haired son had a stunned, pasty look about him now, as if he had just been hit in the head with a brick.

“I can’t believe you knew and didn’t tell me,” he was gabbling. “She could’ve turned me into a piece of jerky for teasing her the way I did.”

“Pieter,” Liselle said then, “why don’t you and Jamus bring Lathwi’s gear into the house and then take your horses to the stable.”

“Does that mean that you’re going to let her stay?” he asked, unashamed of the hope that he heard in his tone.

“For now.”

The concession both relieved and encouraged Pieter. He hurried Jamus out of the house before his aunt had a chance to change her mind.

“It was prudent of you to hold your tongue in front of them,” Liselle told Lathwi then. “But now that we are alone, you may speak freely. So tell me: what kind of incantation did you use to make the fire disappear?”

“I not know what ‛incantation’ be,” Lathwi confessed.

Liselle ground her teeth against an exasperated groan. While she could pass hour after hour with her nose in a book in pursuit of arcane obscurities, she had little patience for extracting information from real live people. Still, she had to have answers from this strange woman. Both of their lives might well depend on it. So she took a deep breath and tried again.

“Let’s forget the technical terms for the moment,” she said. “Just tell me everything you said or did to make the fire go out.”

Lathwi did not like to repeat herself, but she did so now simply because she thought she was being tested. “I say fire’s Name, it go away. You want I call it back?”

A flush dawned on Liselle’s winter-pale cheeks. “Are you telling me you know how to work magic with Names?”

“Yes! Names!” For someone who oozed power, this woman seemed incredibly dense. Was there something wrong with her hearing? “Secret Names.”

Liselle’s thoughts went soaring. Up until a moment ago, she had considered the Magic of Names to be an extinct art or even a myth. There were no known books or manuscripts on the subject, only a few offhand references to it in the oldest of old wives’ tales. She would not have believed Lathwi’s claim if she had not been present when the big woman made that fire disappear without a sound. But she had been present; and she did believe. And while she did not know how this new form of magic might serve her in the days to come, the mere fact that it had shown up at her doorstep in these troubling times gave her a fluttery sort of hope.