| Logs |
2011 November 15
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
On the Road to...
Roy's hard for a lot of people to understand. Since leaving his court, he's not bothered to try to moderate his accent much, which means he's been lapsing back into Cajun French more often. There are times when Sura's listening attentively to him, he'll say something, she'll remain still for a moment as she tries to figure out what he said... then she'll grin and say, "Again, please? In English, this time?" He's laughed a time or two with her over that -- even tried to teach her the Cajun patois. She cheerfully learns whatever she can, although Fantine is quite shocked at some of it, hastily covering the girls' ears! Roy, however, is a firm believer in "no bad words, only bad intentions."
That didn't last long around the girls, though -- the first time one of them used swear words from Roy, Fantine went a-hunting Roy down with a borrowed rolling pin and a zealous gleam in her eye! She's not letting her darling bebes grow up like ragamuffins! She was, after all, trained to be a proper lady's maid.
Roy grins roguishly at Fantine, drawling, "Aw, c'mon, ma petit feu, know when t' be li'l ladies, dem!" That doesn't appease Fantine in the least, though -- considering she actually caught one of the girls swearing! The little loogaroo agrees that she's indeed a little fire though, all right -- and she's going to scorch some good sense into him! -or manners -- whichever registers first!
Roy's still grinning as he ducks behind Suraksha, trying to sweettalk Fantine into stopping her yelling at him in impassioned French. The lamia just laughs! She thinks it's charming: Fantine is so very, very timid -- until she feels that something she cares deeply about is threatened! Then she's a veritable tiger, just like her beloved lady.
The caravan has been making excellent time so far on its traveling towards Boston, with Rattler and Alan tucked discreetly in and working amongst the rest of the caravaneers. Fortunately for everyone's comfort and safety, when the freakishly early fall storm comes roaring through, the caravan is warmly ensconced in Morgantown, participating in an autumn harvest festival for the entire region. Aside from a few of the young men of the town picking a fight in the bar with Roy and some of the caravan's boys, the entire celebratory week goes very well. It's not until about a week's travel after that, wending their way through the serenely beautiful Alleghenies, that even a hint of trouble comes to the caravan.
The caravan ordinarily crosses the Yogyogenny River at the town of Accident. Before the caravaneers arrive, Little Joe and Dominic return from scouting out the aptly-named town with bad news: the recent storm washed out the road and swept away the bridge. However, the two scouts report they met a woman in the town, Rachel Seiber, who might be helpful. Apparently she was there in the town to sell the season's crops grown in her home village. When she heard what was up for the caravan she had privately approached Joe and Dominic and offered to lead them northwards to Friendsville, her town.
She'd assured the two men that not only would the caravan be very welcome there, but there was a way across the river as well. She'd also hinted that there might be someone interested in a Hetaera in the town, although Little Joe confesses that he did not ask any further questions to see if the village was rich enough to actually afford a Hetaera. However, Dominic agrees with the girl's assurance that the roads are currently better nearer her town, so Little Joe thought it best to check back with the caravan to see if this was an acceptable solution to crossing the river. Roy, who had spent some time down near the river, also says that he thinks the water will be calmer north of where they're at.
Suraksha sighs softly, thinking. She'd ask Roy to help surreptitiously in the crossing, but that there's no bridge to cross on -- and this isn't an area where barges ply the river's banks. The slight woman looks at those around her, "What do you all think? I doubt a tiny village can afford a Hetaera, but if the rest of the caravan is welcome then it could well be worth our while. Are we willing to take a gamble on a brand new town?"
Dominic smiles shyly under his hat's brim as he murmurs, "She sure was a pretty girl." Little Joe rubs the back of his neck with a slightly worried look on his face as he adds, "Yeah... she was a nice enough young woman. Seemed to have some kinda cold or something, 'cause she sniffed a lot... but she hefted the burlap bags of grain around easy enough, and handled her oxen well." He falls silent, musing.
Suraksha looks up thoughtfully at her scout and oldest caravan friend, "Something's bothering you, Joe. What is it?"
The lean man hesitates again, clearly thinking hard. Finally he just shakes his head, "Don't rightly know, Sura. Felt sort of uneasy in the town, and she didn't really make me feel any better... but I can't say what exactly it was that bothered me." He shrugs a bit frustratedly, "I know to listen to my instincts, but this time I can't put my finger on what the problem might be."
Suraksha nods silently as she listens, idly ruffling Alg's ears where he leans against her. She thinks for a bit... then finally looks up and nods firmly. "All right. We can't cross at Accident, so going more northerly can't hurt. But we'll travel on alert and with guards at night. Sound good?" She glances at the people around her, checking for thoughts on the matter.
Roy smiles lazily, "Hey, this all an adventure for me. Never been this far east before."
Suraksha chuckles at that, slipping an arm about Rattler's waist. "I forget. Glad you're still having fun, sweetheart."
Rattler slides his arm around Sura's shoulder and says, "I think you need to take folks with you when you go for negotiations, though. At least two of us." It's clear by his wording and attitude that he intends to be one of them.
Suraksha tilts her head and smiles impishly up at Rattler, "Do you now? Are you worried they won't know what a Hetaera is, then? Or are you more concerned they'll be offended when I have to tell them no because they cannot match the price?"
Rattler/Roy smirks and says, "Nah. If the gal knew, the rest of 'em probably do. But if Joe feels hinky, I say respect his feelings."
Chanticleer nods in agreement with Rattler. "I have to agree, m'Lady. Not that they won't know what a Hetaera is, but that they'll know you... and your relationship with Roy... and tradition be damned and they'll try to use that somehow."
Suraksha nods to Rattler, murmuring quietly, "Excellent point, yes." She gives Chanticleer a puzzled look, "How would they know of my relationships, dear?"
Roy grins at Chanti, "Eh, ain't nobody 'round here that'll know me here. Not as a king, anyhow."
Suraksha nods in agreement to Rattler's point, still looking curiously at Chanti. She smiles at the sidhe as she adds, "You are right though, dear, that it's good not to be too cocky. Would you like to be my other bodyguard, Chanti?"
Chanticleer nods, smiling a bit. "I'd be hurt if you didn't let me, m'lady. In all seriousness, I think it would be best if I did."
Suraksha laughs and gives the kind-hearted sidhe an impulsive hug, "Thank you, dear -- and I accept!"
Since it's late, the caravan is already settled for the night, with Buddy cooking a good hot meal. Suraksha sends Daniel trotting around with the news that the next day they'll head for Accident to hook up with someone who's offered to lead them on a safe detour -- and that everyone should be cautious, stick together, and stay armed.
Early the next morning the caravan is soon moving again. It's a damp, coldly beautiful fall morning, with mist rising and everything burstingly green from the recent storm. Little Joe and Dominic have already started heading back toward Accident, to link up with Rachel again. She apparently intends to travel north more swiftly with just her wagon than the larger and slower caravan can go, so the village is prepared to welcome the travelers. Little Joe and Dominic will shuttle back and forth between her and the caravan to make sure they all stay on the right road to Friendsville.
Shortly after the caravan turns onto the road northward towards Friendsville, there is a sloppy and extremely messy section of road which worsens as the caravan travels over it. Dominic does the best he can to solidify the mud a bit, but it's exhausting for him and he eventually has to go fall over and sleep for a bit in Sabrina's bunk wagon. At that point Sura simply has everyone pause, and sends some of the strong and able-bodied individuals to chop down a few smaller trees to lay over the crappy road. That helps the wagons in getting across it, but it's slow and bumpy going.
Chanticleer is standing guard and happens to be on the side of the road closest to Accident. He notices a small boy and a shaggy dog with a stick in its mouth, wandering up the road from Accident towards him. The sidhe frowns a little, looking down the road. Are they expecting traffic from Accident? He passes word on to the others, then hails the boy. As a sidhe, and after all that's happened, he's a little wary of random people on the road; nothing may be as it seems, really. Daniel nods to Chanti and lopes off to pass the message up to Sna'tha or Ohkwa or Sura or someone.
The little boy is well tanned and has big brown eyes. He stops a little ways away from the slender man, resting his hand on the dog, who sits next to him and drops the stick, then licks the boy's face. The boy wrinkles his nose and rubs his face, then studies the sidhe silently for a bit. Finally he smiles and waves shyly, "Hi, mister. Why didn't the circus come to our town?"
Chanticleer blinks a little. "I'm sorry, the circus? Which circus do you mean? And which town are you talking about?"
The little boy twists to point his small, grubby hand back towards Accident, "That's my home." He turns back to look gravely up at Chanticleer as he points towards the caravan, "Isn't that the circus?" He pushes his small hands into the pockets of his patched coat as he waits and silently watches the sidhe with his innocently fascinated gaze.
Chanticleer blinks and smiles, "No, not at all. It's a caravan. We trade supplies and such. Sometimes we provide entertainment. But we're not a circus. We're heading up to Friendsville."
Daniel comes trotting back, his panting breath a soft cloud of condensation before him. He hesitates, glancing at the small boy, then grins at Chanti, "No one expected from Accident. Why? We gotta admirer?"
The little boy gives a small wave to Daniel too, "Hi." He looks back up at Chanticleer and adds gravely, "My Aunt Hattie says there are ghosts in the forest, and there's nothing past it. Why are you all going into the forest? My Aunt Hattie says that those what go into the forest don't come back."
Chanticleer frowns a little and glances to Daniel. He's seen too many of these stories turn out to be horribly true. "Hasn't anyone in your town been to Friendsville?"
The little boy thinks for a while, then replies with the grave sincerity of the very young, "Never. Not for ever and ever and ever!"
Chanticleer blinks. Then he stands and waves over another guard. He doesn't want anyone alone with the boy right now; the little guy is creeping him the heck out. "Daniel, wait here; see what more he can tell us. I think I'd better go tell m'Lady about what we're about to put our foot into this time."
Daniel blinks at that, then glances at Chanticleer and grins, "What about the girl? What's her name -- Rachel?" The slight young man stays where he is, though, at Chanti's order.
Chanticleer says, "I'm hoping this is nothing to worry about, but first things first."
Daniel nods, sitting on one of the freshly cut tree stumps to rest a bit. When the dog picks up the stick and comes over to Daniel, tail wagging, the young man laughs softly and tosses the stick for the dog to fetch. Chanticleer goes to look for Suraksha, feeling very much nervous and cautious now. He hasn't heard of problems while going from Accident to Friendsville, but this isn't the area he's most familiar with.
Suraksha is found helping Del, the two women gently and soothingly leading the more twitchy horses across the sloppy, rutted, messy road. The small woman is liberally splashed with the slop of the road, tired and mud-caked up to her thighs, and doing her best to be calming for the horses -- so by the time Chanticleer arrives she's more than happy to take a break. She stands with one fist on her hip, wearily brushing wisps of hair out of her face and leaving a mud smear across her forehead as she listens to Chanticleer.
Chanticleer explains what he saw and what the boy said to him. "I've a bad feeling about this, m'Lady," he says carefully. "I'm pretty sure that it's not entirely true that nobody ever comes back to Accident... unless it's a much worse town than I've been told and nobody wants to come back to it. But I think there might be something more -- either with Accident, with the boy, or... something actually going on with the road from here to Friendsville."
Suraksha nods quietly, "All right, I'll talk to him." She checks to make sure someone's helping Del -- she grins when she sees it's Rattler, calling cheerfully, "Your turn to get muddy and icky!" -then heads with Chanti towards the tail end of the caravan.
At the sides of the road there are piles of moss-and-lichen-encrusted stones. They stand a little further up from the first caravan wagon. The boy, left to Daniel and the other guard, has wandered up alongside the road, the dog trailing along with him. The guard and Daniel are following behind, but the kid apparently knows the road fairly well. When he reaches the first pile of rocks, he starts scraping at it with the end of a stick. Suraksha blinks, pausing to study the boy. She glances at Chanti, "That him? Cute kid."
Chanticleer nods to Suraksha. "That's him, yes."
Suraksha nods briskly, "Got it. All right, send the other guard back and stick with me surreptitiously, please?" She walks over to the boy, smiling as the dog sniffs at her and then shies away warily, its ears pricked up anxiously. To the little boy Sura says, "Hello there. My name is Sura. What's your name?"
The kid looks up from his scraping and says, "Eb."
Suraksha smiles and crouches next to him, "Hello, Eb. Have you or your Aunt Hattie traveled much?"
Eb flashes a grin at Sura and says, "No'm. I been over the river a time or two, but ain't nobody really travels much. That's for circuses and preachers."
Suraksha laughs delightedly at that, "Yes, we're like a circus -- we travel a lot!" She grins, "Do you know any preachers who've traveled through this forest, or along the road?"
Eb is still scratching at the moss-covered stone with the stick, "Nobody goes past the ghost rocks."
Suraksha says, "What are the ghost rocks, Eb?"
The area around here is limestone and granite, and in places it's not far at all from the surface. Since entering the string of mountains the caravaneers have seen boulders and exposed shelves of rocks; most are fairly random. Just ahead of the first caravan wagon are two such piles of rocks, one on either side of the track. One just looks like a tumble of rocks. The other, however, is stacked quite carefully: five stones of decreasing size. That's easy to see; what's harder to spot are the carvings. Chanti notices them first, since he's looking more at the rocks than at the kid. Angular and deeply cut, they have nevertheless been mostly overgrown by moss -- the moss Eb is scratching away. Eb rolls his eyes at the silliness of grownups. "These are the ghost rocks, ma'am. Well... the first ones, anyways. There's more out thattaway and thattaway." He points to either side of the track, out into the woods.
Suraksha blinks, studying the rocks puzzledly, "They're... oh. You're saying the ghosts put them here?" She smiles faintly as she examines the marks, "But aren't ghosts usually... well, not solid?" A heartbeat later she blinks, "What is this? What do they say?"
Chanticleer frowns a little. "What makes them ghost rocks?" he asks. "The markings on them?"
Eb has scraped away a place the size of Chanti's hand and exposed the deeply-incised markings. They look similar to Ogham, but the sidhe doesn't actually recognize them. With the patience of someone explaining things to a not-too-bright child, the boy says, "Because the ghosts are on the other side of them." He doesn't actually say 'Dummy!' but it's implied. To Sura's question he says, "I 'unno. Prob'ly 'Keep out or we'll eat you!'"
Suraksha has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Instead she nods gravely, "I see. Well, thank you for telling us this, Eb." She straightens and paces away from the boy a few steps before she murmurs to Chanticleer, "Considering how old those marks were... and that we must head north to cross the river... I think we're going to have to continue. Double the guard at night though, please?" She sighs, looking down at her muddy clothing, and ruefully adds, "Wish the river were close enough for a nice bath and wash. Ah, well... maybe at Friendsville."
Chanticleer nods to Suraksha. "I wouldn't recommend bathing alone around here as it is," he murmurs to her. "Or anything alone, for that matter."
Suraksha nods a bit grimly at that, "Yes, I think so. Buddy system in place, please." She glances around for Alg, then nods, glancing back at Chanticleer, "I'll stick with Alg. Take care, dear, please?"
The rest of the day is blessedly peaceful and uneventful. While the road is quite narrow, overhung with tree branches and clearly not heavily traveled, that does mean it also isn't rutted and damaged. The caravan makes good time on it, and Little Joe guesstimates they'll arrive at Friendsville a few hours into the next morning -- late enough in the morning that it's worth their while to bed down for the night and arrive fresh. Sura nods, gets folks moving to settle for the night, and then checks with Chanticleer to see if he needs her on the nightwatch. Chanticleer smiles quietly to Sura. "I think we should be fine. You should rest. I've got the guards doubled and every team within sight of at least two others, and I've told them to check in more frequently." He adds wryly, "Just like we do whenever we're in an uncomfortable part of the land."
Suraksha sighs in relief, giving Chanti a quick hug, "Oh, thank you, dear! I really appreciate your taking care of everything tonight -- because I so want to get out of these clothes."
Rattler volunteers to partner Chanti in his watch. He feels comfortable with the sidhe, after all, and he wants to make sure Suraksha gets some rest tonight. The best way to do that is to have Roy not in her caravan when it's bedtime. Chanticleer is a little surprised at first -- then, thinking about it, is a little ashamed of himself for being surprised. Roy, for all the sidhe's dislike of serving under him at the time, really doesn't like being idle -- he likes doing things and making things happen. Further, Chanti can't deny Roy has been a good fighter.
The Water Tap is fairly comfortable in the woods at night, though he mutters that he prefers the swamp. The big dogs are clearly uneasy but not focused on any particular thing. Then, late at night when the moon has risen in the cloudy night sky, the long, mournful, eerie howl of a wolf causes both Alg and every dog to bristle up and pace around stiff-legged and growly. More howls join the first for a distant, spine-tingling song... then abruptly fall silent. Shortly thereafter, as the human Tap, the sidhe, and the enormous Tonnerre walk quietly through the night, the dog abruptly bristles up and stops, staring at the underbrush and growling.
At Tonnerre's bristling Chanti places a hand on the dog's back, peering out into the darkness and resting his other hand on his sword's grip. Tonnerre isn't barking yet, but the growl is bad enough. "Who's there?" Chanti says loudly, expecting the other guard groups nearby to hear him. Roy knows enough to realize both Chanti and Tonnerre have better senses than he does. He crouches slightly, making a smaller target of himself as the dog reacts to something out in the woods.
There's silence for a moment -- then the swift, receding rustle of something (or -things) -- large fleeing through the underbrush. Chanticleer holds himself from rushing after it, and makes sure Tonnerre doesn't chase either. "Good boy," he murmurs to the dog. "Let's let the other groups know. We're definitely not alone here."
Heading from group to group, Chanticleer discovers almost all of them have heard or otherwise noticed something slinking through the underbrush. Whatever it is, though, it seems to avoid being seen... and after spooking everyone thoroughly and leaving the dogs and livestock bristly and irritable, there are no more alarms during the night.
The next morning dawns cold, damp, and foggy. Buddy is more grumbly than usual as he passes out steaming hot coffee, and only those who were truly exhausted yesterday seem to have gotten anything like a full night's sleep. However, the caravan determinedly gets going, rolling and creaking through the wispy fog along the leaf-strewn dirt road. Were it not for the clear marks of Rachel's yoke of oxen and wagon leading before them, it would be easy to believe they were all completely lost. Along the road they also pass more of the "ghost rocks." The first ones were more moss-covered, but the ones for the last bit, closer in to Friendsville, have been well-tended. The markings are much clearer, though no more easy to read, and no one in the caravan recognizes the alphabet.
Oddly, it only takes a few more hours of travel -- and then the caravan starts passing cleared, harvested fields; likely the ones which grew the crops Rachel was selling in Accident. The caravan is spotted soon thereafter, as Rachel comes jogging out from a workgroup in one of the fields, waving and calling happily to them, "Hi, you made it! We were starting to worry!" A handful of small, graceful children and lithe young people can be seen as well, peeking shyly at the caravan from under broad-brimmed hats, or hesitantly following Rachel. She turns and shoos them all back to the field they're working in, "Be patient! They need to camp first." Like Rachel, they're all tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and sturdy. Chanticleer blinks a little. They look almost... ljossalfar, sidhe in their litheness and gracefulness. It's a little eerie for him. He looks around. Maybe "Friendsville" is a bit too creepy of a name, at that -- just like "Accident."
Rattler is with Sura when the girl comes up; he's been trying to make up for leaving the small woman alone last night by being close-at-hand today when he can. Suraksha frowns thoughtfully as she studies the young woman and her chakras, murmuring quietly to Roy, "She seems... sincere enough..." The slight woman hops down from her wagon and strides forward towards Rachel, calling a cheerful, "Hello there! You are Rachel, then?"
Rachel pushes her hair off her forehead with her forearm. Her hands are clad in heavy leather work gloves; the work-group is gleaning and preparing for the burning of the stubble from harvested grain. She grins widely, eyes shining, "That's me, yes! You're, uhm... I'm sorry, Joe said your name but I forgot it." Her eyes flick down the length of the caravan, looking for Joe. They come back to Chanti and Rattler, who are near Sura, and the young woman looks them over with open curiosity. "Welcome to Friendsville." There's an odd accent to her voice, slightly different than that of the other towns in the area.
Suraksha's grin is friendly, although Rattler can see the hint of wariness still in her golden-eyed gaze, "Suraksha? That would be me." She offers a hand, adding, "Little Joe says you have a place we might camp and perform for you all, yes? Also a bridge to cross the river... and that there's someone here who might wish to hire a Hetaera?" She laughs disarmingly as she adds, "You can perhaps imagine our surprise! We had no idea there was a town out this way, let alone one that knew of Hetaerae." She waves a hand as she adds, "These two are Chanti and Rattler." She doesn't give more information than that; she's not yet sure it would be a good idea, although the clearly sincere young woman is making her relax a little.
Rachel tugs off her work gloves and offers her hands. They are well-formed but callused; she's obviously used to this work she's doing. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Suraksha, Chanti, and... Rattler? You have interesting names. They roll oddly off the tongue." The grin never leaves her face and she seems almost to vibrate with excitement. She calls over to the rest of the young people in the fields, telling them she'll be back. "I can show you the camping place -- it's really a fallow field; it won't be seeded again for another harvest to let it rest. But it is near a stream and there are grasses there. For the animals."
Suraksha laughs softly at the girl's enthusiasm as she shakes Rachel's hand, "They do? Interesting... they're commonplace names where we come from." She waves the girl on, "Lead the way! Can you give us the name of the person interested in the Hetaera?" She's starting to wonder at Rachel's not commenting at all regarding Hetaerae -- could the young woman have not really understood what the word means?
Chanticleer smiles and also shakes Rachel's hand. "Pleased to meet you." His caution has not abated; he's quite attentive and looking around carefully. "Do you know anything about the ghost stones?" he asks her. Suraksha looks over in sudden interest at Chanti's question -- that's a good one!
"We are a little... isolated," Rachel says. She seems to have to search for the last word; or perhaps she was just going to use another one and chose the alternative at the last moment. "We have been here a very long time. Since before the Sickness." She tips her head to one side at Chanticleer's question and laughs, "Ghost stones?"
Suraksha nods slowly -- that would explain why all the young people look so similar, she thinks. Chanticleer arches a brow. "The stones along the road? The piles of stones with the markings on them?" He looks around; he thought he saw them coming up the road to Friendsville. "Didn't you see any on the way into town?"
Rachel blinks and then laughs, "Those? Ghost stones? They are..." She makes a motion with her hands as if she's trying to find the right words, as if English is not her first tongue, "Boundary markers and... way-markers. Some are warnings, yes, but ghost stones? No."
Suraksha looks puzzled, but simply waves the caravan on to follow them all to the field. "What boundaries and ways do they mark? Do you have many travelers here?"
The girl's eyes flick to the side a little as she describes the stones. "They are old. From when the Sickness came."
Suraksha frowns, suddenly worried. "Interesting. Rachel, I missed your answer; pardon me. You were going to tell us the name of the person interested in the Hetaera? Also, there actually is a way to cross the river here, yes?" She wants to make sure first that the caravan can safely leave... then she'll ask all the other questions which are bothering her.
Rachel seems happy to get away from the subject of the stones, "Oh! Yes! Our..." again she hesitates, looking for the words, "thane. You would say, maybe... mayor? Leader? Malachai. He is the one that I thought would like the Hetaera. Even we have heard of them, out here. And there is a ford. A shallow, slow place. No deeper than here." She taps her leg just below the knee.
Suraksha sighs in relief -- that, she can tell, is all true! She smiles at the young woman, her voice gently teasing, "Malachai the mayor. He must have a surname, and a place where he can be found, yes? It would be impolite not to greet him formally at meeting, after all, right?"
Rachel laughs again, "Yes, yes! Seiber. But that is a very common name. Easier to just say Malachai. There are many Seibers, but just one Malachai."
Suraksha blinks at that... then smiles curiously, "You're mostly all related here, then? Interesting."
Rachel laughs again, warm and excited, "Many of us, yes. Cousins and aunts and uncles. There were just a few... families... when the Sickness came." She's moving at an easy trot alongside the caravan.
Suraksha thinks a moment, then adds innocently, "What language do you all usually speak?" She knows Sna'tha could not read the curious runic-like writing on the "ghost" stones... but maybe she can give Sura some useful information if she knows the language spoken here? The slight woman adds, "If I know it, it might be polite to speak it to Malachai, after all, right?" Chanticleer follows along. He's still suspicious, though he tries not to show it.
Rachel waves her hand, "We all speak English. The language we speak here among ourselves -- you would not know it. I just get excited sometimes and forget the words."
Suraksha nods thoughtfully, although she's not entirely sure she believes that. "All right. So, where might we find Malachai today, then? There must be negotiations with the Hetaera before she will decide whether to accept his offer or not, after all." As they move along the caravan passes another set of stones; the carving on these is larger and clearer than on the others. It's then that it sparks for Chanti where he has seen markings like these before, even though he can't actually guess at their meaning: the ljossalfar he met years ago had markings like these embroidered on their clothes, and sometimes into the sheathes of their weapons.
Rachel says, "Today Malachai will be teaching. We will find him at his house. But do you not want to camp first? He knows you are coming, and surely you wish to drink and rest?" She seems anxious to get them to the camping spot.
Suraksha says, "Of course! But after that it would be rude to keep the gentleman waiting." She pauses, then grins and curiously asks, "What is he teaching?" Chanticleer frowns a bit. The markings do look familiar, and now he realizes why he thought "ljossalfar." He makes a mental note to let Suraksha and Sna'tha know. He still can't read it, but it's familiar... and it has some martial or protective implications.
"It is..." again, Rachel pauses, looking for the word, "religious teaching. For the young ones. In the morning Malachai teaches them. In the afternoon they learn their sums and writing and such things." The young woman flashes her grin again. There is something terribly vital about her -- everything seems very important somehow.
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