Pillar

Chapter Three

The other troll, far smaller than its sibling on the other side of the bridge, had peered at her from beneath the water, its mud-covered head rising out of the muck to glare at her as she passed. Leaning on her staff, she walked another half-mile before stopping to lean against an Alder tree, sucking in deep breaths as she tried to regain her composure.

Using the last of her pulled Astral energy, she lifted the blood from her stained shirt and allowed it to spatter to the ground, mentally thanking Master Musk for forcing her to do laundry for two years. She was still sweaty, and the high noonday sun beating down on her with relentless heat made her feel woozy now that she’d exerted so much energy, but she felt she could make it back to town easily enough. She hoisted her satchel up and patted it lovingly.

“Come on, we have some goods to sell!” She exclaimed, wiping back a few errant hairs from her face.

The path was now less muddy, with circular stones set along the path’s edge to make it visible for those traveling the back roads of the River-Valleys. A signpost rose from a low wall, marking a crossroads. Three arrows pointed down separate paths: Hamlin to the east, Cistern to the west, and Rice-Fields of Vreba to the south. The rural towns were overseen by a governor of sorts, an advisor to the some local noblemen that ruled over the area. Vivian hadn’t met the man, but she’d heard tell of his ways: cruel and calculating an utter bureaucrat for taxes.

On the plus side, he wasn’t one to take bribes, nor was he harsh to those that couldn’t afford the taxes, instead taking goods and services for the local noble’s home.

Hobbling down the path towards Hamlin, Vivian pulled a wide brimmed, floppy hat from her bag. The piece of Moss Hound leather was light and airy, offering a means for Vivian to block out the sun from her weary gaze. She pulsed a small bit of Astral to weave a Fresh Breeze spell under her breath, causing a whirlwind of chilled air to whirl around her lithe frame, a miniature tornado that carried with it blades of grass and clods of dirt. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she continued her way towards Hamlin. Feeling slightly drained after weaving so much arcane energy in such a short period, Vivian was looking forward to the hustle of the Hamlin market.

The walk was short, a mere hour that ate into the midday sun. She smiled when she saw the low walls that boxed in Hamlin, polished white bricks mortared together from a time long since passed. A few Royal Guards, women from Clan Tyrik, patrolled the thirty-foot-tall barriers. Like Vivian, the people from Clan Tyrik were naturally short, built from a warrior stock that had turned their bloodied gauntlets into tough laborers gloves.

Around two hundred years ago, the Clan had moved into the region, conquering it in a vicious coup. They dominated the landscape before settling down, a new nobleman coming to them with an offer for them to serve under the regent of the kingdom. They’d balked at first, but eventually hung up their swords for plows and shovels. Now, the matriarchs of the clan ran the various towns and villages in the province.

“Wish I could remember what his name was,” Vivian muttered, thinking of the historic figure that’d tamed the clans.

She paused at the town gates, two lean soldiers stepping from a small guardhouse, dressed in pressed leathers and chain mail. One was a man, the other an older woman. Both had swords on their hips and crossbows hanging off their backs.

“Back already, Vivian?” The woman asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

“I told you this morning I was just going to gather a few things Dora,” Vivian replied. “You should have listened to me then.”

“I know,” she said before elbowing the man. “Check her for hidden weapons!”

The man yelped, rubbing at his ribs. “Yes, ma’am…”

Vivian offered her bag to be searched, warning him of the Leeching Willow leaves she’d harvested. He poked around with only the briefest interest before handing it back.

She raised an eyebrow when he moved to pat her down. “Is this really necessary?”

“Unless you want to become a citizen, you get checked every time you enter,” The man said without a hint of humor, “We need to keep the people safe, you know?”

“I’m hardly a threat though, I mean all I have are a few spells to my memory and a silver dagger on my hip.

“Those spells worry me the most,” Dora said. She looked at the man, nodding towards Vivian. “She good Gaul?”

Gaul nodded, walking back into the guard post to fetch a logbook and a pouch. “Re-entry into the town within a day means no tax, but we need you to sign the registry again.”

“Of course,” Vivian sighed, taking the snub-nosed quill from Gaul’s grasp, dipping it into the pouch and swirling it to gather pigment before leaving her mark. “Happy?”

“Overjoyed,” Dora drawled. “I’m here until midnight, but I think Tobias is doing some basic exercises with Ukah right now. Drop by the barracks and see if he’ll be up for dinner at the Sound of War. He needs more socializing, especially with pretty girls his own age!”

“Dora!” Vivian exclaimed, her dusky skin hiding her blush.

The older woman laughed before waving her into the town. “Go inside before I charge you with blocking the main gate and have a good day!”

Shaking her head, Vivian walked past the main gate and into the busy streets of Hamlin. The paths were narrow, with two, sometimes three, story buildings built along the flagstone path. Vendors had stalls for practically everything an average person could want: fish from the Vreba river, reeds and tubers from the riverbanks, firewood and coal for heating your home and cooking your meals at night.

Vivian stopped by a flower stall, leaning over to sniff a bouquet of Flaring Bells, the red-petals of the flowers growing alarmed as she came too close to them.

“Please,” the vendor, an attractive woman bearing a tattoo over the left side of her face declaring her to be of Clan Tyrik stock, walked from behind the stall, “try not to rouse the Bells. I just got them to rest and they’ve been angry since I pulled them.”

“Have you tried watering them with Rabbio r****h broth?” Vivian asked, remembering the small batch she kept in her garden when she was younger in the Tallow Hills. “I know they’re not in season, but they calmed mine down back when I was a part-time herbalist.”

“The chances of finding a Rabbio right around now are about the same as finding a dry patch of land after the last storm,” the Tyrik vendor laughed, “those are in high demand, and I’m not trying to enter the spice merchant game.”

“Not saying you should, but a few drops per flower is enough to calm them. I know if they flare up they can burn your other plants with ease,” Vivian replied. “I have some bottled Rabbio r****h extract from the Iron Hills that I’d be willing to part with, if you had some coin you could spare?”

“Eh? A foreigner with sense enough to barter with me?” The Tyrik woman laughed, slapping her leather clad thigh, her long shock of blonde hair waving merrily behind her. Dressed in green leathers that exposed a generous amount of cleavage and thigh, the sleeveless tunic had mesh wires running down her arms to iron bracers and leather gloves. Her face was unblemished, save for the tattoo, with a slightly upturned nose and kind brown eyes.

She pulled up a small bag and shook it gently. “Eight silvers, plus a coin purse if you can calm my Flaring Bells for me. Twelve if you can get them to sing.”

“Alright,” Vivian smiled, pulling her satchel closer to her, reaching into a side pocket for one of her many vials. After fumbling through them, she found a clean dropper and the vial of Rabbio r****h extract, and leaned down to stare at the Flaring Bells. There were five of them, rich crimson that she knew would quickly lose pent up water as steam if angered. The tips were already an angry yellow, and the bulbs twitched at her movement.

Pulling on the Astral, she channeled energy through her body, allowing her to understand the plant’s basic line of thought. Just as she’d guessed, she felt aggression and a desperate need to defend itself. It was a cornered animal, and it didn’t like where it was. Add to the fact that it was unhappy with what it was being fed and it was becoming desperate to make a kill of its own just to get something desirable to eat.

Sucking a few drops of the r****h juice into the dropper, she brought it over one bulb and dripped a few blots onto the center, a sensitive organ many mistook for some place insects could find nectar. The petals sealed around the extract, the pulsating tongue of the plant rolling with the flavor it was now dealing with. The other bulbs lifted higher to defend, in case of a perceived attack.

They didn’t need to. Happiness radiated from the bulb, and it began to croon. Vivian smiled and, one-by-one, she fed each flower a two drops of extract until they were all crooning a lullaby that was attracting flies and mosquitos from around the marketplace. Sudden puffs of steam followed by quick gulps pierced the song as the plants began eating, surprising the Tyrik vendor who merely scratched at her bangs.

“Well, I’ll be,” she said with a measure of respect. “Here I thought you were some punk kid just trying to sell me some hokum remedy. Here, take your coin girl, just hand over the extract!”

Vivian smiled and took the coin pouch, the stitched leather hard beneath her soft hands. She unbound it and peered inside.

The Tyrik seemed to bristle at that. “No need to worry, it’s all there.”

“Oh no, I’m not counting it. I’m seeing if this pouch has enough room for the rest of my meager savings. Do you mind if I linger for a bit and shuffle things around?” Vivian asked.

“Oh,” the woman’s ire cooled. She turned her head and coughed into her hand. “Uh, yeah, sure. Just try not to impede the goods. Barring you know a way to make some of my other plants flourish?”

Vivian laughed. “No, I’m not an herbalist like you, I only use Snapdragon teeth and Ubretuber roots right now.”

“That sounds odd… those aren’t for cooking for your partner, are they? Because anyone who can stomach that should receive a medal.” The Tyrik asked, wincing.

“Oh no! Nothing like that… I’m a wizard, on my Tentrek. Traveling the plateaus to see what life has in store for the creatures of Pillar before I return to the Tallow Hills.”

“A wizard, eh?” The merchant asked. “Well, my name is Kiara, and if you have some time on your hands and the ability to do some labor, I could use some help of the arcane variety. My tools are getting old and it would be cheaper in the long run to have them enchanted than to just replace them every few months. If you could, think you could look?”

“I could, but I’d need to check with the local wizard to make sure they’re okay with me poaching jobs in their neighborhood,” Vivian said with a smile.

“Come on, I can pay you under the table if you’d just take a quick once over…” Kiara said, nodding towards the interior of her shop. “I bet you’d be able to help me out with less than five minutes of work!”

Vivian frowned. “I’m sorry, but you have a local wizard who runs a business here. If he doesn’t mind me working in his territory. I’ll come back and give you a quote before doing the work.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Kiara said. She rubbed the back of her head, frowning. “Well, please come back soon, I have some stuff I could use help with from a capable wizard.”

“Will do!” Vivian said before turning to her bag, sorting through her money pouches and collected goods for the day. She barely had the chance to yelp when someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her back into the crowd.