Ari paused at
the edge of the grove and peered at the sky. The sun stood just beyond midday.
Stay or go? If he pushed the burros, he could reach Rosti just as the sun set.
Should he take the chance? The rocky plain between the grove and the hamlet was
home to the lopestas that emerged to hunt after the sun set. One stumble on the
rocks could turn a profitable season into a disaster. Tomorrow would be soon
enough to head for Rosti. He would have a ten-day to sell the fyrestones and
depart before the solstice began.
He staked the
burros and lifted the near empty panniers from their backs. He piled digging
tools and the tent beside the wicker baskets. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead.
The scarlet
fyrestone he’d worn on the day the pair of stone seekers had found him pulsed.
He pressed his hand against the lump beneath his tunic. What did it mean? He
stared toward the distant walls of the hamlet. His eyes widened. A plume of fire
rose toward the sun. What were the priestesses attempting? Had one of their
fires escaped from their control?
Not his
business. The only traffic he had with the temple was for the sale of the
opaline crystals he carried in his haversack. With the fyrestones he’d found,
he would have enough coins for supplies and to buy some answers to the
questions that had bothered him for years. Who was he and why had he been
abandoned in the grove? Which hamlet had been his birthplace?
He started a
fire and ate the remainder of the lopear he’d snared that morning. After
setting several snares, he dozed until sunset. He checked his snares and cooked
two grass hens, ate one and slept.
When pre-dawn
lightened the sky, he loaded the burros. He set off across the rocky plain,
taking care to avoid large piles of rocks where the lopestas burrowed during
the day.
At the gate into
Rosti, he paused to pay the entrance fee. “You’re in early,” the guard said.
“Any luck?”
Ari nodded. At
least the guard asked out of curiosity, and not the prying questions asked when
a man left the hamlet. Ari often wondered if there were bonds between the
guards and the thieves who preyed on solitary stone seekers.
“A bit,” he
said. “Found whites and a pair of yellows before the site played out.” That had
been the first of his finds, but he wouldn’t mention the others. “Sale will bring me enough
for supplies and a few nights at an inn.”
The man stepped
closer. “You’re the first stone seeker to arrive. With crystals in your pack,
the priestesses will welcome you. Did you see the flame yesterday at midday,
the one that rose above the temple? Heard one of the priestesses tried to kill
Malera. Someone said all but the white fyrestones turned black and have no
power.
Ari laughed.
“Then mine should bring a good price.”
The guard
nodded. “Might reward you with more than coins. Could offer a night with one of
the priestesses. Or you could be chosen to join them for the solstice
celebration. Hear they like the things a man does.”
Ari forced a
grin. That was one reward he had no intention of collecting. If he gave a
priestess too much pleasure, he could become a prisoner in the harras.
He led the
burros past the guard and turned into the first lane where stables abounded. He
stopped at the one Jorg had always used. His thoughts turned to his dead
partner, and once more, he regretted being unable to save the old man’s life.
Jorg had clutched his chest and fallen to the ground. Ari hadn’t known what to
do.
The stableman
accepted enough coins for a ten-day. Once again, Ari thanked Jorg for teaching
him to keep a secret stash of coins. Ari led the burros into a stall. He draped
the blanket roll over the gate and hung the tent beside it. He hung the
panniers on hooks and set the digging tools on a ledge. The stableman lifted a
stone block and the trough filled with water. While the man brought hay and
grain, Ari curried the burros. Once he finished, he hoisted his haversack and
lifted a sack of dirty clothes.
After leaving
the stable, he sought an inn. In the choosing, he heeded Jorg’s advice. Never
stay at the same one you used the last time. Always seek one with a ground
floor chamber and a private bathing room.
The second one
he visited met his requirements. “You’re in luck,” the skinny innkeeper said.
“In a few days, the place will be crowded with folks arriving for the summer
solstice. Five coppers a day for the room. Meals are extra. For one silver, the
laundress will see to your clothes.”
Ari nodded. He
counted out the coins for the room and laundry. Though he had no intention of
remaining for the solstice, he paid for a ten-day, two beyond the festival.
Once he sold the fyrestones and bought supplies, he would seek Jorg’s old
partner. Besides the twenty coppers Ari gave the old man on each visit to Rosti,
this time Ari was determined to purchase information. Once he knew all the
particulars of the rescue, he would leave the hamlet. Being near the temple
during the twice-yearly rites made him uncomfortable. The scarlet crystal, his
heritage, always reacted. He feared one day, the stone would raise a flame and
consume him.
He followed the
innkeeper down a narrow hall and noticed two exits he could use to come and go
without crossing the common room. The thin man opened a door at the end of the
hall. Ari noted the heavy bar he could use to keep people out. He nodded. “This
will do.” He dropped the sack of dirty clothes in the hall. “Have these washed.
I’ll add others after I’ve been to the temple.”
“She’ll have
most ready by morning. Will you take your meals in the common room or have them
brought here?”
“I’ll have the
evening meal brought, but I’ll decide when later.”
“Will you need a
companion? I’ve a connection to one of the pleasure houses.”
“Perhaps. First,
I have business to conduct.”
Once the innkeeper
left, Ari barred the door. He dropped the haversack on the bench beneath the
window and secured the shutters. He opened the pack, and one by one, extracted
the fyrestones from the pack’s false bottom. As he touched each stone, the core
color flickered. He placed each of the colors in a separate pouch and placed
them in the large leather one he hung from his belt.
When he left the
inn, he strode down the cobbled lane to the market square. He noticed his
mentor’s aged and crippled partner beside one of the food stalls. Though Ari
wanted to question the man, he knew he couldn’t until after the crystals had
been sold.
What would Bil
tell him? The man had been Jorg’s partner when they’d stumbled across the small
boy near the edge of the grove. The scarlet fyrestone and the copper necklace
had been the only clue to Ari’s identity, a clue he didn’t think the men had
pursued.
Ari’s hands
clenched. Who had left him there? Who had given him the stone? He’d never heard
of a man being able to use any of the fyrestones except the white. Though
several times, he’d dreamed Jorg had used one, Ari couldn’t remember finding
one when the old man died.
The savory aroma
of meat pies made his stomach growl. He purchased one and a mug of ale. The
nutty flavor of the beverage soothed the fiery spices of the pies. Around him,
conversations flowed. He ate quickly. Once the stones were sold, he would order
a feast and a woman from one of the pleasure houses to share the food and
attend to his needs. He’d been without a woman’s company since the week before
the winter solstice. As he sauntered toward the temple, snippets of words
reached him.
“Flame near
touched the sun.”
“Saw that. Could
have ended the world.”
“Heard the
priestesses took sick. They’re not hearing petitions.”
“After the
solstice when the rites are changed.”
Ari reached the
edge of the square and followed the fyrethorn hedge to the arched entrance to
the temple lane. The hedge lined both sides of the wide cobble-paved path. The
brilliant scarlet blooms on the bushes hid deadly red thorns. Ari frowned. The
odd thing was nowhere but here near the temple had he ever seen fyrethorn
growing. He often wondered why.
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