My last day at the fair was cut short. But not before I got to see one last play. I actually didn’t write this one. The story was created by a local theater group I had been training with, using material I could remember from Earth. Then they all started to get creative and worked on a play together. My only contribution was the backdrop. I had sewn together pieces of cloth that could be raised and lowered to give a background. I tried really hard not to make the artwork too good. I didn’t want it stolen when the North Cove theater company took their show on the road.
To be honest, I was glad not to have to stay all the way to the end of the fair. It was good to see my people enjoying themselves, but five days at the fair was exhausting. Most people spent no more than two days there, assuming they could afford to take the time away from their work to travel. The fair did not stop the rest of the world from needing attention.
So when I received a message saying I was urgently needed in Hillside, I did not hesitate to leave. I took a fast horse toward Oceanside and then boarded the Wind Chaser for the journey up to the cove.
Once I arrived in Hillside, I barely had time to wash up and change clothes before being ushered into what promised to be a very interesting meeting. I was honestly surprised it was happening this soon, if it was ever going to happen at all.
Waiting for me were Juku, the scout from the People of Mother's Mountain whom I had first met months ago, Arbis, the Karr we had sent as our envoy to their settlement, and a man with darker skin than anyone I had seen so far on Marth.
From what I had learned, most of the people on the continent were darker-skinned than those living in the north, and the farther south one traveled, the darker their complexion generally became. Based on that alone, I would have assumed the man came from the deep south.
As it turned out, I was completely wrong.
“My Lord, may I introduce Tseran Vyr’rel, son of the chief of Clan Vyr in the Barren Lands,” Arbis said, placing a hand against his chest as he made the introduction.
“Welcome to my lands, Tseran Vyr’rel. I hope for friendly relations,” I said in my most charming political voice, inclining my head politely.
Not that it mattered much. Arbis immediately translated my words into the shared language spoken by both the Karr and the People of Mother's Mountain.
After listening to the translation, Tseran straightened his shoulders and made an unfamiliar gesture. “I see your strength, Ruler of North Cove.”
The people called the Khulari valued strength above all else. If you were not strong enough to protect what you possessed, then it was not truly yours in the first place. Knowing that much about their beliefs, I took the statement as a compliment.
“Your presence here surprises me. I was told that your people prefer to remain in your own lands and refuse entrance to outsiders.”
That caused him to smile.
“For most of my people, you would be correct." He spread his hands slightly. "And if my father knew I was here, he might die of shame. My mission in coming to the West was to seek opportunities to take from the travelers on the mountain roads. I, however, find the task boring, and it is easier just to trade with the people and claim that I have taken it by force.”
A grin spread across my face before I could stop it. By the time Arbis finished translating, I was already chuckling.
“So, my new friend, what is it you seek to trade?”
Tseran leaned forward slightly, his interest immediately apparent.
“When I visited the town of Artanes, their chief showed me things that came from your land. I am interested in your weapons that are hard and sharp. He called them steel.”
He must have seen the knife I had given the chief as a gift.
I leaned back in my chair and folded my hands together. “It is understandable. It is one of our most precious commodities. Difficult to make and desired by everyone. The question is, what do you have to trade for it?”
“Unfortunately, I do not have much with me but a few things. I have several spices for my meals that are popular among the People of Mother’s Mountain.”
As the translator relayed the words, the young man spread his hands apologetically.
“I received a particular white powder from Baron Bolster that his people use to bind copper and clean iron. Do you have any?”
After the translation, the young man shook his head. “I already traded the small amount I brought. But if that is what you seek, I can secure more.”
I nodded and scratched at my beard in thought.
“I am interested in everything,” I said. “Even things your people may consider worthless. Resources that are not found on our side of the mountain. If you bring us samples, we will see what use can be made of them.”
The young man grew thoughtful. His eyes drifted toward the ceiling for a moment as though mentally sorting through everything he had brought with him. After a moment, he reached into a pouch hanging from his belt and pulled out a small tan ball.
“I do not know if this will be of any use to you,” he said, rolling it between his fingers. “We call it Olmec, after the plant it comes from. It is a soft substance we use to seal jars and keep water from soaking through our clothing.”
He squeezed it between his fingers until it flattened. Then, with practiced motions, he worked it back into a rough sphere.
I fought very hard not to grin.
“Tell me,” I said casually, “does it bounce when thrown against a hard surface?”
The man's eyebrows rose. For just a moment, he looked more surprised than cautious.
“It can, if mixed properly with other things.” A slow smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “But that is information I would trade.”
I leaned forward slightly.
“And what would you trade it for?”
The smile widened.
I was beginning to like this guy.
“Steel.”
I barked out a laugh. Even the translator sounded amused as he repeated the word.
“Perhaps if you brought me several jugs of raw sap. But the secret of how you harden it is not worth steel by itself.”
The young man folded his arms across his chest. He did not look offended. If anything, he looked pleased that we had moved into actual bargaining.
“The raw plant must be treated with bitter juices to prevent it from rotting. I would have to buy the olmec, and it is not easy to squeeze out all the sap.”
“Neither is steel easy to produce,” I replied. “And I do not even know if olmec will prove useful. I will trade you a steel dagger for a cart full of goods.”
The young man rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
“Three daggers and a spear.”
I leaned back slightly in my chair, considering him.
I wanted to establish a good relationship, but I had no intention of being taken advantage of.
After letting the silence stretch for a few seconds, I nodded.
“I have an idea,” I said. “I will send you home with two steel daggers and several other goods that cannot be found anywhere else in the world. It will raise your standing among your people and demonstrate my strength. You may tell them that I am willing to trade through you.”
As the translator spoke, the young man's eyes narrowed slightly. He was listening carefully now.
My smile faded.
“If you value your people's lives, I strongly recommend that no one attempts to take what is mine. If they do, your people will die, and you will lose access to my goods.”
The room grew noticeably quieter.
The young man met my gaze without flinching. He sat a little straighter before answering.
“I cannot answer for the other tribes,” he said. “But I swear upon my position in the Tribe of Vyr that the people of my father’s tribe will not raid your lands.”
I studied him for a moment, then nodded.
“That is good enough. Now, is there anything else you desire before I show you the wonders that can be obtained through trade with my people?”
He answered immediately, almost as if he had been waiting for the opportunity.
“I have seen your ships. I wish to travel on one.”
That caught me slightly off guard.
“It shall be done,” I said with a nod. “But I would ask something in exchange. I have heard it is impossible to sail around the Barren Lands. That sea monsters live there, and that no ship has ever returned.”
The young man's expression became more serious. Even his companions shifted slightly at the mention of the place.
He nodded solemnly.
“Sadukar the Ship Eater.”
That caused the people in the room to start whispering.
“Is it truly a monster?”
The young man tilted his head slightly.
“It is a secret of my people.”
I doubted that. The man was angling for something. Still, if the knowledge could help me establish a route around the coast, it would be worth far more than a few weapons.
“How much do you want for this secret?”
The answer came suspiciously quickly. “Three daggers and three spears.”
I chuckled and shook my head.
“Is the number three especially important to you?”
The young man shrugged.
“One for me and one for each of my companions.”
He gestured vaguely toward the east.
“They have remained beyond your wall.”
I followed the gesture for a moment before looking back at him.
“I see.”
“Well then. If your knowledge is as valuable as you say you shall have it.”
He shifted his weight slightly as if getting comfortable before telling a tale. “The story of Sadukar goes back to the origin of my people. The Khulari come from lands far to the south. Explorers, determined to travel to the ends of the world. But while traveling the coast, they were ensnared by the Sadukar, and their ships were destroyed. Many died while striving to learn to live in the Barren Lands, but now my people flourish.”
“Very fascinating.” It seems like shipwrecks were the best way to spread the population around here. “So it is a trap then. Is it a large reef?”
“You are wise, Count Amos. But it is not just a reef. It is sand banks and rocky outcroppings that extend far out into the sea. High winds drive the ships into the traps. Also most of the fresh water is inland and you have to know where to look in order to refill your water. Much of the Yrah tribe's riches have come from foolish travelers who attempt to beat the Sadukar.”
“So in order to be assured that my ships are not trapped by the Sadukar they would have to travel out far into the ocean.”
“No one knows how far out the Sadukar extends.”
“Well then, North Cove may be the first to learn. And your information is worth the price you ask.”
The mountain road may be good for wagons full of goods, but for large quantities, a ship going around the coast would be a game-changer.
I decided to leave the rest of the negotiations to those whose job it was to actually do that sort of thing. Right now, I thought a fishing trip out in the cove was a great idea. He would be the first foreign diplomat to take a ride on the Wind Chaser. I wasn’t worried about a person from an isolationist tribe spreading news of my ship to his people. Not that they would be able to replicate it even if he did describe it.
Besides, it would be a great time to test the new fishing rod and reel and promote a new product.
Tseran Vyr’rel, Clan Vyr
“It is fascinating. It is like a mix between a Velociraptor and a Chocobo!” The leader of the people of North Cove said with no small amount of awe in his voice.
Tseran could tell he wanted to approach Kesh’vyr but restrained himself. Khulans were smart creatures and could sense the intent of most people, but they were also very protective of their partners.
The almost childlike expression on the giant's face made Tseran want to laugh. But out of respect for the man, he refrained.
He and his friends had stuffed their packs with as many of the treasures of North Cove as they could. Gifts for his father and other tribe leaders. More like bribes to open trade between the Khulari and the people of this land.
As they rode away from the wall that stretched across the pass, he couldn’t help but be excited to return home. A feeling that was not often familiar to him. Maybe these goods would convince his father that it was worth exploring beyond their borders.
He and his friends traveled all day to reach the next well of water in Thyrland.
As they sat around the fire warming their soup mixed with the dry meat provided by the count, the conversation turned towards Tseran’s meeting with the ruler of North Cove.
“I knew the people across the mountains were large, but that man was a giant. He had to be a head and a half taller than any of our people and as large around as a boulder,” Korvyn said as he stared at the new spear with the moon silver tip the people called steel.
“Are we going to finally open the packs so you can show us the goods from North Cove?” Vaelith asked, shoveling more food into his mouth.
Tseran smiled as he leaned back against a protrusion of earth. “For one thing, I have acquired mixes of herbs and spices. Those have been used in several of the foodstuffs you have been eating today. Some of the spices even come from our own land. But you can see how mixing them with their own plants enhances the flavor.
Korvyn ran out of patience and went over to a pack, pulling out the top item. A round wooden disk with carvings inlaid on its surface. “What is this?”
Tseran grinned. “It opens.”
Korvyn found the seam and popped the lid. He almost dropped it in surprise as his face was reflected back at him in almost perfect clarity. The image was slightly eerie due to the black surface.
Tseran threw his head back and laughed. Korvyn both glared at him and stared at his reflection in awe. His distraction at looking between Tseran and the mirror allowed Vaelith to sneak up on him and steal it. He began to stare at his image with similar surprise.
“What is this?”
“The material is called Obsidian, and the object is a compact mirror. Better than polished bronze in my opinion.”
They continued to dig through the pouch. Vaelith even cut himself when he unsheathed the obsidian knife. “That is the sharpest thing I have ever held,” he mumbled due to the fact that he was sucking on his thumb.
A glass vase was packed securely in a box of cotton and straw. Sheets of paper and iron needles were not as impressive to the two young men, but they could see the usefulness. The small painting of a forest was more exciting than the knitted socks and bras.
Besides the weapons, the thing that got the two friends most excited was the compass and the lens. The compass for direction, the lens to enlarge things, and the ability to start a fire. If Tseran could have, he would have brought a cart full of goods, but that would require a long trip with a team of oxen. Turning the trip into a few-day journey or a couple of weeks.
Over the course of the next few days, he had plenty of time to come up with a plan on how to approach his father and convince him to trade with the outsiders.
When he arrived at the clan's camp, he and his friends were treated with cheers. The excitement was palpable. His father was not in the camp at the time. He was visiting with other tribe leaders. Discussing water rights and the position of each tribe as they followed the herds.
The iron tools and steel weapons had the impact he was looking for. All the warriors of the tribe demanded that he tell the story of where he got such things. All three of the men refused to say anything until they had reported to the Tribal leader.
He gave the things that he thought the women would want to his mother and let her spread the gossip among the womenfolk. His father got back late in the evening, and they sat down across from each other, a mat between them with all the goods laid out. On his last visit home, he had explained to his father that the town of Arteran was trading with people over the mountain. Now he came back with goods from this distant land.
He explained how he had tried to raid a particular caravan, but with only three of them, the number of guards was too high. Instead, he decided it was best to trade with them.
After sitting for a long time, his father handled each item. Tsamis, Chief of the Vyr tribe, looked up at his son. His eyes were cold. There was nothing of the excitement that the other villagers had shown over these curiosities.
“You did not even bother to display the might of the Vyr tribe. Only after they repel an attack should a Khulari trade.” There was no doubt in his father’s voice. “You did not trade for these things. You did not carry enough with you to trade for marvels. These must be gifts to entice us to trade with yet another outsider.” The voice grew harsh. “Your mission was to scout and to make sure the people of Mother’s Mountain did not become too bold.”
There was a long pause. Then his father picked up the glass vase, a look of disdain on his face.
“Most of these things are worthless, and the rest we have done without for over a thousand years. I see no benefit in your continuing to deal with these people. Their items will bind us to them. They continue to seek advantage until we are enslaved by them.”
He tossed the vase to the side, and it shattered when it hit a rock.
“See how fragile they make it. It would not last long in our travels across the lands. As fragile as the promises of outsiders.”
Tseran gritted his teeth. He hated how his father still treated him like a child. He hated how afraid he was of the outside world. Words spilled out before he could think better of them. “You are the fool father. I have met the man who created all these things. I have visited his lands and seen wonders beyond what I ever thought was impossible. The man who created these things was a giant even among his own people. A man who gave freely without demanding anything in return. He had no need. His land overflowed with so much wealth that he had no need for trade.” The emotions had truly taken control and he finally voiced the truth that had been settling into his own mind. “I am convinced that the man is one of the Fallen of the Sky Gods.”
If his father's aura had been cold before, now it was like the night chill of the darkest day of the year. “You have left Thyland. Not to raid but fawn over a man and his treasures.”
He stood up. “You will be judged by the tribe’s Elders for your actions.”
Tseran’s fists clenched. “Our ancestors were explorers. They were stranded here and made this place their own. Are you telling me that none of them wished to carry on?”
“Our ancestors were not explorers who fled from the blood and carnage that raged across the southern lands.”
Tseran stood. Fury in his eyes. This perspective was one of weakness, not strength. “Our laws are that the strong take what the weak cannot protect. You are saying that our ancestors fled because they were too weak.”
“It was not because of weakness. It was because of the senseless slaughter. People were no longer fighting for resources or to protect what they had. They fought for revenge. The slaughter of their enemies was all they cared about. That is not our way.”
“And what happens when war comes again. We will be so weak that we will no longer be able to defend our lands. We stay the same while the world moves on without us, and eventually, people will want what we have. Even if it is meager.”
“The council will decide.”
*******
Wheels creaked along the hard, sun-baked earth. Two Yacart pulling the wagon loaded with goods. Tseran sat upon Kesh’vyr, and the creature's stiff neck showed that he could sense his rider's mood.
His uncle rode up beside him. “Why the long face, Nephew. You are off on your first real adventure.”
His uncle was smiling as he always did. It was something that Tseran had always admired about the man. Now it made him want to punch the man in his face.
“Adventure? They banished me, Uncle Camtok. Just because I wanted to better the lives of our people. Because their pride could not allow them to see beyond their own noses. They are afraid. Afraid that I am right. My own Father was the one who suggested it.”
The older man's face broke out into a wider grin, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle, and then he burst out into laughter.
Tseran ground his teeth and rode farther ahead.
He was not in the mood to be mocked. When he slowed his pace, however, his uncle caught up to him.
“You think this is a punishment,” he said, humor in his voice.
“Telling me that I must live on the edge of Thyrland until the herds pass. That will be at least another three years. That I must remain there and not enter the mountains or cross them, or I will never be allowed to return to the tribes. What else is it?”
The older man shook his head and sighed. “I had high hopes that my nephew wasn’t as daft as so many other youths. It’s an opportunity. You are to stay right on the border. If they truly wanted to banish you, they would have made you leave the lands. Why put you on the border?”
His uncle was making him feel stupid. He didn’t know the answer.
“That dagger at your waist. The one made of steel. How many people do you think want something like that?”
Tseyan looked down at his belt. “I cannot imagine anyone not wanting one.”
His uncle nodded. “So when they need what is beyond the mountain, who will they go to? They cannot cross the mountain. That would be very un-Khulari of them.”
“That is why you are coming. Not to babysit me, but to assist with trade?”
His uncle's smile became wolfish. "You will make Vyr one of the wealthiest tribes across Thyrland, and your father knows it. Look behind you at the people who volunteered to come with you. Your friends, they believe in you as well. Some of those people back there were even persuaded by your father to come.”
“I don’t want to rule a tribe. Even the wealthiest one in Thyrland. I want to explore.”
“And you will. Establish an outpost, wait a cycle, and then go explore the world and bring glory to the tribe of Vyr.”
For the first time that day, a smile spread across Tseran’s face. The wagon full of goods he had brought to trade with the lord over the mountains. A man possessed by the spirit of one of the Sky God’s servants. That wagon would make him one of the wealthiest people among the Khulari.
Perhaps he would even be able to buy a boat.