Under a Starless Sky novel Chapter 14

Lakewood was official name of the province by the lake, and it was easier to go here from his first campsite than it was to go Midelay. He was going to go to West Midelay, but he encountered a party on their way to the province, and both his sisters were in attendance. He saw them coming and waited on the road until the party arrived at his position on the path. It was worn enough to be a road, but they didn’t call it that. The sky was overcast and the road was muddy after a rain. The party saw him, too, and though they were pretty sure it was him, their formation changed. Three females came to the front of the group and hastened their pace. They were to first to meet him. These three had risen to the rank of Torchbearers- they held staffs, and likely could light them up, if not produce magic.

Tian was lead, followed by her peers. Chelle, and Mar.

“Shen,” Tian said. “You travel more than anyone I know.”

“In circles,” Chelle said. Mar laughed.

Tian frowned at them. They were peers and she couldn’t correct them.

“May I accompany you?” Shen asked.

“You appear to be going the other way,” Tian said.

“I have changed my mind,” Shen said.

“Umph, circles,” Chelle said. “Just like boy, no direction. No vision.”

Tian was aware of Shen’s clenching of teeth. “The road is free. You may join us.”

“You may trail us,” Mar said. “I forbid you to have conversations with Tama or Candace.”

“That’s harsh,” Tian said.

“I second that,” Chelle said.

Shen bowed. “I have changed my mind again. Would you be willing to carry letters?”

“Does she look like a courier?” Mar snapped.

“Everyone who travels is a courier,” Shen said. “By law. One of these is addressed to N’Ma. Who better to carry them than Tian?”

Mar gave a signal for the group to hold, not catch up.

“I accept,” Tian said.

Shen brought forth the courier bag and retrieved the letters from it. This wasn’t a trade of courier bags.

Chelle took them from him. She found them appropriately addressed, and she knew the intended recipients well. She was puzzled by the stamp.

“There is no symbol here,” Chelle said. “Who produced these?”

“I am just a dumb boy. How would I know such things?” Shen offered.

Chelle bought that. Tian knew it was from him, but didn’t give it away.

“The script is decent, do you recognize it?” Chelle asked Mar and Tian. They denied. “Who gave these to you?”

“I simply agreed to carry for bread,” Shen said.

“Maybe it’s an apprentice, and they’ve not earned their mark. Even we don’t have marks yet,” Tian said. “I’ll carry them.”

“We should open the seal,” Mar asked.

“You would open something not addressed to you?” Tian said, collecting the letters. “Do you want to be drummed out of the Sisterhood?”

“Hold on,” Chelle said. “What else do you have?”

“Just trade,” Shen said.

“Gift it to us, in exchange for carrying your obligation,” Chelle said.

“Give me my obligation back,” Shen said.

“No, we’ve accepted,” Chelle said.

“Without first negotiating a trade,” Shen said. “Carry it without.”

“This is not a negotiation. You gift us the stuff, or we take the stuff,” Chelle said.

“Chelle,” Tian said. “This is dark.”

“Gift it,” Mar said. “That’s the easier path.”

“This is not a gift. This is robbery,” Shen said.

“You asked permission to join us. It was granted. Gifting is expected,” Chelle said.

“The road is free…” Shen reminded them.

“You didn’t ask for the road,” Mar said. “You asked for company. That has value. You chose this path by not participating. This conversation is delaying us and costing you. Hand it over.”

“I will not…”

“Rule of two, you will go along,” Chelle said.

Shen surrendered his bag of trade.

“Fall back, walk with the men, or go your own way,” Mar said.

“Do as she says,” Tian instructed. “Run along. We’ve given you more time than the trouble you’re worth.”

Tian pushed on. Her peers followed. Chelle shoved Shen, knocking him on his butt into a puddle. He was tempted to get up and run away, but he sat there as the others past. He didn’t meet their eyes and he had no auditory information that they were concerned. The men and adolescents who trailed didn’t look at him or address him. He was all but invisible to them.

They were out of eye sight when he recovered emotionally and made a decision to go to Lakewood. There was an orchard there, and he harvested for the elderly woman in charge. Without a bag, he took only the fruit he could carry. He went to the lake, waded in against all instinct, as it was freezing cold, and bathed the mud off himself, his clothes, and his fruit. He collected his courier bag and went to Lakewood’s Tower, and warmed himself by the fire pit. Even with the fire, he found himself shivering. He suspected it was due to having spent so much emotions. Tian brought him an empty bag and departed without speaking. He slept by the fire. The next morning he harvested more fruit, which was very specific request, requiring him to climb a tree. He was also given a bowl of water and instructed to collect grubs from a fallen tree. The tree was alive with grubs, having been farmed specifically for the grubs. He also collected mushrooms and a fungus which went great with stew.

“I’ll let the cook know to give you a stick of five,” the elderly woman told him.

“You can tell the cook she can gift my share of grubs to someone in need,” Shen said.

Shen wandered down by the lake. Tama was in the water, playing with her peers. She was a much better swimmer than her peers, thanks to the training of the Sea Gypsies, but he had no idea how they could tolerate the cold. Adults swam, too. Men and women were swimming. There were three canoes that were now sufficiently packed that they seemed unstable to him, but the owners were preparing for their journey ‘in.’ Across the lake was ‘in’ and towards the mountains ‘out.’ He noticed one of the boat captains had his bag, and was likely still filled with the stuff he had collected. Had he known there were floaters here, he would have come straight way as he might have had better trade.

Shen sat down by a tree, pulled his journal out and began drawing the canoes and the owners. Everything about them reminded him of Chinese. They were petite, thin. They had long hair, tied into a tail. They wore wide brim hats, and grey trousers that fell to their knees, and two layers of shirts. A thin undershirt, and a gray over shirt with long sleeves and a high, floppy neck. He had no idea how they navigated. The only artifact that might help was the sun, traveling East to West. With the copper wire, chunk of steel, and battery he made out of fruit in coconut shells, he had managed to make a magnet. He failed making a compass. A sliver of the metal was definitely magnetized. It responded to the chunk of steel, it stuck to his knife, but floating it on a leaf failed to produce the desired effect. Either there was no magnetic field, or, he had done something wrong. He couldn’t imagine what he was doing wrong.

He finished capturing the woman next to her canoe, securing her gifts which she netted and tied. He wondered if the boats ever rolled. He began drawing boats from memory, wondering if he could improve their shipping technology. The simplest upgrade would be to turn a canoe into a catamaran. A sail would likely improve things, too. These folks were smart, and so he was surprised he had yet seen a sail ship.

“You’re drawing things wrong.”

Shen was startled out of his drawing. There was a thin boy, about his age, and clearly the descendent of Chinese.

“Did they send you to spy on me?”

“They older boys instructed me to taunt you for wanting to be a girl,” he said. “They want me to provoke a fight and prove myself.”

“Tell them if they want to fight, they can come taunt me themselves,” Shen said.

He sat down. “May I see it closer?”

“Are you afraid of being feminized?”

“No,” he said. He accepted the book. He brought it back and forth until he could make sense of it. “Mom tried to teach me to write, but I am stupid.”

“Or blind,” Shen said.

“I am not blind,” he said.

“How many apples on that stump by the water,” Shen asked.

The boy looked and said ‘five.’ There were no apples on the stump.

“How many fingers am holding up,” Shen said, giving him two fingers.

The boy clicked. “Two.”

“You’re a clicker,” Shen said.