Strange Lands

Thanks to all the kind comments on the first chapter.

This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane. Bless her, she puts up with so much from me.

Strange Lands

Chapter 2: Per's Tale

Per turned his back to us, his shoulders hunched as he began. "I was not always a goldsmith, a laborer. I had been born to a noble, a misbegotten son of an ill-favored concubine, but noble nonetheless. My father was a tyrant, and not at all kind to his children or his wives. He drowned the girls if he discovered them before their first year, and sent all the boys, save the heir, to serve the Autarch . The heir that was chosen changed often, as soon as the current heir was poisoned. It was a house of intrigue, and my father thought himself fortunate that he had sewn enough seeds to outlast himself. When I was seven, he tore me from my mother's arms and then gave me into service to the king of our land as a tithe. I was angry at my lot in life, missed my mother desperately, and fought those in charge.

"I spent much of my first years in that service getting stripes and learning to scrub floors." Per gave a rueful smile to Jona, who had ducked his head when Per began his speech. Bridgerit tightened her hold on my shoulders, her brows drawn down in concentration or anger, I couldn't tell which. Per continued, "There was one sergeant who was set to watch over me as a special favor to my father, after news of my first disastrous first year was sent to him. He was one armed, his face was a fright with battle scars and burns, and he had a vicious temper. He was nicknamed Volcano by the boys because of it. We never knew when he would erupt, and when he laid stripes a boy felt it for seven days after. He always broke the skin, and sometimes bones. This was who my father picked to ensure my success, for if I failed he would lose face with the Autarch, as my behavior would reflect badly on him. It was the first time I realized the power I held. I was always under Volcano's eye, and always in trouble because of it, my back always bloody and sore. I don't know how I survived my second year in the infantry."

Per paced before the dark brazier, the coals left from dinner having turned to ash long ago. Only a single oil lamp was spared for our talk. Fuel had become scarce during the siege, but was even more scarce for us due to our own penury. Per was only a piecework goldsmith, not an artisan, and his clients paid mostly in trade. Jona shifted in his seat and I could tell he wanted to ask something, but Per began speaking again. "My third year was no better, but I had learned some discretion so I had fewer stripes and more time with the older boys. They taught me to curse, to drink, and to look out for them when they gambled and went to the brothels. I was starved for approval of any sort, and desperate for their friendship...

"When I was older, twelve turns or so, Volcano lost a knife fight in a brothel. It took him a full week to die. I rejoiced, and ran wild. My temper became legendary and my honor easily offended." Per sighed, a deep gusty sound that spoke of his misgivings at telling Jona and I about his wild youth. I smiled at Jona and he returned it hesitantly. I understood. It wasn't everyday that an adult spoke so plainly about their mistakes, and Per was more than taciturn about his past than most adults. Both Jona and I had wondered at his scars, but knew better than to ask. Per continued, "There was an older boy, one of those hill tribesmen who travel with their herds. He came from the war at the frontier and was battle-hardened and weary. He took me under his wing, settling me with the smith as soon as he saw that I was uncontrolled. That is where I learned piece-work, making mail for the older knights.

"When I was fifteen, the Barba made their first invasion into our lands. They were fearsome warriors with silver winged demons called Mecks at their mages' call. Their power was... incredible." Per shivered as if caught by a stray breeze. "Our unit was called up, and we went, me and my friend, to fight for the glory of our land. I lost my friend the first day. I was captured the next." Per stopped, staring into the night, his mouth working silently as if he wanted to speak but couldn't. Jona wiggled restively against his seat, his eyes already suspiciously drooping. Per finally spoke, "I spent less than a moon amongst them, toiling as a drudge, before my father bought my freedom. It seemed that his luck, and his heirs, had finally run out.

"He brought me home, to live in his southern villa, to eat his food, to wear the clothing he provided, and to be his heir. I hated every moment of it. I hated him." Per cut off his words with a bitter laugh. When he continued, his eyes were blank, his expression hard. "When his latest wife became pregnant and delivered a boy, I fled back to the world he had consigned me to, back to the infantry. I knew that if I stayed, my life would be worth less than nothing. An heir and a spare was not a concept father or his wives understood or took to...

"The war continued for ten years and I distinguished myself enough that I rose in the ranks despite my lack of funds. My father had disowned me upon the birth of his latest heir, left me penniless. A soldier's pay was all I had." Per looked away from us, his cheeks staining a dusky pink. "It was enough to gamble, to buy an occassional whore, and to supply myself with weapons. I never thought... I never thought I would leave. I had seen too much death to fear it, had killed to many men to return to society."

Jona fidgeted against the table, his feet making hollow, dry sounds against the wood as his sandals slipped over the rung of the bench. Per paced to the doorway of the shop as the sound of battle intensified, then abated. The beginnings of the harsh winter breezes that brought rain also brought the sound of our destruction to us. Per leaned on thedoor frame , his shoulders tight. I wanted to go to him, to tell him that we didn't need to know anything he didn't want to tell, but it was not my place. I am only a daughter, and not at all favored. Per turned to us finally, his eyes red-rimmed. "TheBarba retreated for a few turns and our land knew peace once again. My thoughts turned to having a home, a family. I was in my twenty sixth turn and took my retirement. I found a patch of land, a willing woman, and I made a child with her. We were happy."

He sank to the seat and for long moments he did not speak. I looked to Bridgerit to see if she had heard this tale before; I knew I had not. She gave a scarcely visible shake to her head. There was so much about Per, the man we knew as our father, that we'd never known, so much that we should have learned from him. Per spoke again, this time his voice strangely flat. "I came to love that woman. She was a simple camp follower. Not one of the women who follow armies and take coin for their bodies. She worked in the mess, cooking and serving as needed. The first time I saw her, I thought her plain. I never would have looked at her again if she didn't always save the choicest portion of meat for me, along with a smile. When I asked her to join me on the land granted me for service to the Autarch , I thought of how strong she would be, how she would bear children easily, and how she would be able to withstand the harshness of the northern frontier and constant threat of Barba invasions. I saw her as a work animal, nothing more... It didn't take long for her to disabuse me of that notion. Our first night married, I used her callously, like I would have any of the other women in my acquaintance, whores and the like. Our second night married, she barred me from the house and would set the dogs on me if I tried to enter. By the end of seven days..." Per chuckled dryly, "by the end of the seven days she had taught me much that I hadn't known about women.

"I learned to respect that woman as much as I desired her. I learned that family was much more than infighting and jockeying for position. I learned that to show softer emotions signified a greater strength than brute force ever could. By the end of the first year she had given me a son." Per paused in his telling, his eyes becoming glittery and sad. I moved restively against the bench, wanting to ease his pain. I think we all knew what was coming by his expression. When he spoke again he simply said, "He died of fever before he had reached his first cycle. I buried her not long after.”

I wanted to comfort Per, to take the shiny grief from his eyes even as I recognized that this was the way of the world, this grinding sadness that beat a person down. I railed at the unkindness of the gods only for a moment. Wasn't Cernu the god whose own wife destroyed him at the end of harvest to ensure the wealth of the next planting season? Even the gods had their difficulties to undergo. Who was I, insignificant, plain-faced Benerit, to question the suffering of anyone?

Per continued, "I sold my farm. I was failing anyway, and I rejoined the fight against the Barba, my grief lending me the fierce strength to defeat the many enemies that came. We conquered many cities, piling up masses of their dead, taking their Meck beasts and destroying them. I came upon your mother during a raid on a compound. She was a mage , and in my experience, not to be trusted. We engaged each other in the ruins, her with her light guns, me with the sword that I had forged myself during my time away from war. We clashed for the entire day."


Per laughed, "That night, we both collapsed side by side, too tired to even hold up our heads, much less move away from our sworn enemy. The next morning, we woke in each other's arms, grimy, exhausted, and alive. I offered her wine and the hard goat cheese of our land, she offered me bread and dried fish. We traded insults over our spare meal, and once we were finished we picked up our weapons and fought again.

"It went on like that for two days, until, on the last day of the battle, we heard both armies sound the retreat. Your mother said it was a shame that such a fine warrior was wasted on the enemy. I returned that I thought such a beautiful warrior maid could share my bed if she desired. She laughed at me and then we sat, not enemies, not people of two different gods, just man and woman. We talked as the two armies passed us, each on their separate ways. When night fell, we made our plans for her to come with me. I had no idea who her people were and she had no idea of mine. It was only when we came to the Autarch's city that she told me who she was, and only because the Autarch had heard of her defection."

At that moment the last of the Mage works fell, and our shop shook. Ama Ri ran screeching from her pallet and all the littles awoke, crying for Per and Ama Ri. Bridgerit and I rushed about, setting to rights things that had fallen from the shelves and Jona... Jona watched Per, his expression sullen. I suppose he wondered why he had been brought in to hear the story. I smiled at him as I hushed the little girls and made them servings of the fresh flat bread I had made last night before I went to bed, along with the last of the summer honey which was spiced with cinnamon and ginger. They took it with greedy hands and big eyes. Ama Ri ran about the room screaming until Per ordered her to their room with a few quiet words.

Alternately dozing or pacing, we waited the rest of the night for the Barba to enter the city.

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