Pillar

Chapter Fifteen

Waking up to the dull roar of the Market District, Vivian went about her morning routine. She bathed and dressed her wounds, slathering the chest wound in rye liquor with a brush until her eyes welled up with tears just to stave off infection. She wrapped her breasts in linen and slipped on a green leather vest and trousers, tightening her belt buckle and redoing her plait with the hoop dangling at the end.

She spent some of her morning sipping Bitterleaf wine from the bottle and dining on bear jerky while pouring over her tome for something useful for her anklet. The small copper piece had two small gems, with the settings wide enough to fit in beneath the gemstones of an Anam crystal, assuming she carved one just right. That meant she could carve the rune onto the gem itself without messing with the rosy tinted copper.

“Let’s see… I have the beginning runic equation for what I hope to be something to do with flight, and I have the end of a similar equation that I could work in that reduces weight. I’ve used that one twice with mixed results, but maybe if I paired them together it could work?”

Pulling her sharpened stylus and her few remaining Anam crystals, she began whittling two down to fit beneath the garnets. It took her but a few minutes, as her stylus was reasonably sharp and the crystals yielded to tools easily, so after a few attempts she could slide and fit the crystals snugly beneath the garnets. Moving the anklet about, you couldn’t even see a hint of the blue gems beneath the red, which made Vivian smile.

“Don’t want it to clash,” she muttered. “Now where is my jeweler’s lens?”

Digging through her satchel, she pulled up her jewelers supplies; a whetstone, several chisels of varying sizes, a half-dozen settings done in tin and bronze and a variety of weathered rings she’d gathered during her trip to the lower plateau that was the River Valleys. She selected from the lot an adjustable eyepiece, a magnifying lens on the tip to allow her to do fine detail work when the need arose.

Looking between her book and the gem with the eyeglass held by her eyebrow and cheek, she was slowly growing frustrated as, minute by minute she slowly etched the beginning lines of the runic equation for flight, weaving it ever so patiently into her weight-reducing problem. Doing the runic scores in her head, she solved the equation, etching in the answer as a final sigil marking a numeric value of three-hundred and forty-two, causing the etching to glow a certain sheen as it was powered by the crystal below.

“Perfect!” She said. “I’ll work on the other gem another time. Now I just need to test this baby out while I’m out on the town.”

Slipping it on, she pulled on a pair of leather slippers from her limited cupboard space, and stood up to stretch her muscles. Tipsy from the wine and full of the jerky, she counted out her bounty of money, now flush with silver, and decided she needed to stop by Bleak’s home to purchase a book on earthen rituals, and some more Anam crystals.

“Maybe he has some scrolls on air sigils I haven’t collected yet?” She wondered as she slung her satchel over her shoulder, grabbing her staff. She left her room and locked the door, only to bump into the Orator from down the hall.

A wide fellow, he had a double chin and a bristly mustache that reminded Vivian of a wharf seal, though his temperament was far less playful.

“Madam,” he said, bowing slightly.

“Um, sir?” She bowed as well.

He rose straight backed, his wide shoulders blocking a third of the hall. Dressed in gray leathers and a red cape, he wore a pendent reserved for the veterans of the war, a hawk’s claw with an X scratched through it using a coarse tool. She didn’t see any scars, or weapons on him, but she knew some scars weren’t physical.

“Dear Vivian, I will read some epic poem ‘The Mark of Passage’ this evening and was wondering if you would grace the audience with your presence?” He asked, giving her a wide smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “An esteemed member of the community should partake in the arts so often, and I dare say I haven’t seen you in the Theater District during my long sojourns.”

“Uh, yeah. I work mostly, doing minor jobs here and there, you know, have to keep the silver flowing, heh heh…” Vivian chuckled, embarrassed that she didn’t know his name. “When is, uh, the reading?”

The Orator smiled once more, this time with glee. “An hour after sundown when Selene is in the eastern horizon. The event is catered, let me give you a ticket so they’ll let you in. The venue is the Ambrosia Palace, so try to get there early to get a table up close. There will be several presenting written works tonight, but the event is only two hours long.”

“And, um, how long will you be reading?” She asked, accepting a thick piece of rolled up parchment he thrust towards her. It was tied with a red ribbon and smelled of fresh floral ink.

“A mere fifteen minutes as I’m not highlighting the event, merely introducing the great philosopher Archer Caldwell. He’ll be discussing the varying philosophies between the varied followers of the Air Prince, which I think will be most fascinating.”

Vivian perked at the idea of listening to such a lecture. “Would it be rude to bring my journal to take notes?”

He seemed to puff up a bit. “To have a woman of your caliber notating such an event would be extraordinary! To think, my humble reading going into a book sought after by the Royal Guard, heh heh…”

“Wait,” Vivian said, puzzled., “what do you mean by that?”

“I’m just stating that it would honor me to have my presentation noted in a book that will probably become standard reading material for trainees here in Vreba the for the Royal Guard. Why, it could lead to new feats of bravery for the young cadets!”

“Listen, Sir…?” Vivian said, gesturing with her hand for help.

He didn’t seem offended. “Lark, Madam. Richard Lark.”

“Yes, Lark, I just want to know how you heard the Royal Guard inquired about my work?” She asked, attempting to maintain her buzz despite Lark’s attitude.

It was proving difficult. “Why, I heard several young guardsmen discussing how you performed some feat of heroism that impressed Lt. Costello, who offered you not only commissions for some of your thaumaturgic skills but also a commission as an official contractor for the Royal Guard in some secret case. Very impressive for a woman your age, it speaks highly of your skills!”

   Vivian rubbed at her temple for a moment, eyes shut. If this blowhard is right, then pretty much everyone will know about my new appointment. I hope this doesn’t bite me in the ass…

She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I’ll see you at your show tonight. I’ll make sure I dress appropriately for such an event as well.”

“Oh marvelous, simply marvelous!” Lark exclaimed, clapping his hands together happily. “Now I imagine I’m holding you from a day of work, so I’ll make way so I can rehearse for my big debut!”

“You do that,” Vivian said as he turned to allow her to pass. Hurrying, she tromped down the stairwell to the first floor and escape before Ms. Hanko could appear to ask about her foundation.

As she walked down the path from the hill Bed Row stood upon, she idly tore the ribbon free from the invitation and unraveled the scroll. It was indeed an invitation, though it was clearly intended for someone of great importance. She also noted that she could bring a date.

“Of all the things I need to worry about…” Vivian grumbled about, rolling the scroll back up to stuff into her satchel. “At least I have dinner and drinks covered for tonight. I’ll see if Tobias is free… would be nice to have some alone time with him.”

The very thought brought heat to her cheeks, which she quickly quelled. Walking into the light crowd, Vivian traced her way to Kiara’s herbalist stand to gather her money from yesterday. She found the woman bartering with an older man over several Shrieking Gourds. The silenced purple vegetables each had a gag stuffed into their orifice, keeping them from emitting the obnoxious wailing they would do when sensing vibrations.

“Look, you said you needed three, and I brought three from my farm. They’re perfectly healthy and are plenty big enough for what you want!” Kiara argued, arms crossed with a scowl on her face. “The price is three eighteen pence! That’s as low as I’m going, simple as that.”

“These scrawny things couldn’t scare away a rat, let alone a wolf. I need something to warn me in the night if I get another prowler near my home. I have enough problems with erosion and the fish not biting, I don’t need to get killed in my sleep by some loon with mumbling to himself.” The old man said. His stooped frame and thin beard gave him an avian appearance, but his wide blue eyes made him look quite deranged. “Now I’ll take the gourds for fifteen pence, and not a pence more!”

Vivian stepped in, reaching into her satchel to root through her money pouches, fishing out three pence. “Here, I’ll cover the difference.”

The old man turned to look at Vivian with the same wide-eyed expression. “You will?”

“Yes, just take your gourds and head home. Just make sure they’re over fifteen feet from where you plan on walking.” Vivian said, smiling as Kiara nodded.

“And at least ten feet away from the river, the vibrations from that will make them go off as well.” Kiara added. “You have some posts you can nail into the ground to put them on?”

“Have some spare timber from when I had my grandson do some work on the pier,” Jason nodded. He gathered the gourds with shaking hands after handing over a small money pouch clinking with coins before turning to Vivian. “Thank you, Ma’am. Always nice to see the guard actually helping instead of standing around barking orders like fangless dogs!”

He walked into the crowd before Vivian could reply, earning a chuckle from Kiara. “Come on back, I have your pay in the chest.”

Vivian followed behind, walking into the stone building while admiring the various flowering plants around her. She chuckled when she heard low voices from the greenhouse debating the ethics of leaf trimming, though shook her head when Kiara asked what was so funny.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t finish the job…”

Kiara waved her apology away. “Normally I’d be upset, but the few remaining tools you hadn’t worked on were the oldest of the lot and needed to be tossed out, anyway. No need to spend hard-earned silver on trash, right?”

Vivian smiled. “Right. So how much did I earn?”

“You enchanted thirty-one tools by my count, which means thirty-one silver. A severe blow to my coffers, but it’ll pay for itself in the long run. As it is, I don’t need to replace those tools I threw out, which saves me four silver and three pence as is!”

She pulled out three small leather pouches, like the one she’d been given when she’d made the Flaring Bells sing. She took them, one-by-one, and dumped the contents into the larger pouch she’d earned that day before tightening the leather cord to close the bulging sack. She gave the empty pouches back to Kiara, who smiled.

“Thanks. Three fewer pouches my daughter has to stitch together,” she laughed. “Now go on Officer, get out of here before I report you for harassing legitimate business owners!”

Vivian chuckled again and smiled. “Will do, you stay safe now!”

“Within these walls, always am!” Kiara replied.

Vivian made certain not to let Kiara see her grimace as she exited the shop.