Chapter 7
Joff stopped and took a few deep breaths. He wished that his house was closer to the market. The walk did not bother him but trying to walk with the sack of food he had bought tired him. It was not much farther to his cottage. He looked over his shoulder. Someone stepped behind one of the other cottages on the lane. Joff did not get a good look at the person but it was the second time since he left the market that he had noticed someone following him. “Can I help you?” he asked the world in general.
A woman in the blouse, trousers, and boots of a seasoned traveler stepped out from behind one of the cottages. She was not the one Joff had noticed. That person was the similarly dressed but less graceful man who followed her. They had sheathed swords on their belts.
“Are you the translator?” Airk asked.
Joff put his bag down. “This is encouraging.”
“Can we talk in private?” Airk asked.
Joff took them back to his cottage, a small but well furnished affair with padded chairs and blankets hung on the walls to keep out the cold. Joff sat down as soon as they got inside and took a few moments to get his breath. “Would one of you put the kettle on?” he asked.
When Airk did not move, Jain went to the fireplace and put kettle on its hook over the embers. Then she put another log on the fire. “Thank you,” Joff said. “So what’s the job?”
“We have a book that needs translation,” Airk explained. “It’s in an old style of High Genasi. We had an augur look at it, but he couldn’t read it.”
Joff nodded. “I expect you don’t want the lairds to know about this.”
Airk nodded. “Can you read old High Genasi?”
“Can do that, for the right price.” The kettle began to whistle. Jain found three cups and made tea for the three of them. Joff thanked her when she handed him one. “How long is the book?”
“I don’t know,” Airk replied.
“Can I see it?”
“Um, no,” Airk said.
“It’s too precious to transport,” Jain explained.
Joff raised an eyebrow. “Too precious?”
“Can you travel?” Jain asked. “We know of your . . . ailment.”
“I can travel if I don’t have to carry anything. But what makes you think I’ll go with you? I don’t even know you.”
Jain knew that Joff was well read and the fact that he had sensed her and Airk following him made her think that he was also savvy. Maybe he knew or knew of someone in Coursa’s organization. “Do you know Eduard? Grima? Coursa?”
“I know of Coursa,” Joff said. He was silent for a moment as the implications sunk in. “I’ll just go and pack a few things then.”
Joff did not own a horse but he did know how to ride. Coursa had foreseen this and sent an extra horse with Jain and Airk. They all rode out of town together about an hour later. Airk had wanted to spend the night but Joff insisted that they get going right away.
“We’ll barely make the next village by night,” Airk said as the town gave way to forest. “The innkeeper will have his way with us, whereever we stay.”
Joff urged his horse on, though he fumbled with the reins and adjusted his position in the saddle frequently. “I can’t be seen with you. The Academy and the councils are all wound up in each other. I’m lucky I haven’t already wound up on an augur’s altar. Getting mixed up with Coursa is pushing my luck if ever I have.”
They reached the next town well before dusk but Joff insisted that they ride on. When it was too dark to travel any further, they made camp in a space that could generously be called a clearing by the side of the rode. Airk tried for some time to get a fire going but it had rained the day before and everything was still wet. After a while he gave up and sat down to eat the bread and cheese that Jain had gotten out of the saddlebags. Joff picked up the flints.
“You should eat,” Airk said. “The night will be colder on an empty stomach.”
Joff struck the flints together and dropped one. He picked it up and struck them again, muttering under his breath. The spark took and a very small flame sprang up in the leaves around the pile of sticks. All three of them pushed more leaves in and the fire struggled to life. Joff relaxed and sat back, breathing heavily.
Airk nodded his approval. “Nicely done.”
Joff shook his head. “Just took a few more sparks. Now let’s have some of that food.”
Jain passed him bread and chees. “So you read things for a living?”
Joff had taken a large bite of cheese as she was asking the question. He raised his index finger as he chewed. Jain looked meaningfully at Airk, who looked confused. “Read and translate,” Joff said when he had finished chewing. “Not many in The Holdings can read and fewer can read more than one language. Most of those that can are at the Academy, serving the lairds and augurs.”
“So why aren’t you?” Airk asked. “Why are you living like a peasant in that village when you could be in the City of Books with the nobs?”
The fire reflected in Joff’s eyes as it sprang up, catching more of the sticks. “Not many peasants go to the Academy. It’s hard for us there. More so for one as crippled as I.” He closed his eyes as unpleasant memories ran through his mind. “Just before I graduated, a man, a merchant, came to the Academy with a book. It was a Kestonian book about blacksmithing.”
“He wanted a book about metal translated?” Airk asked around a mouthful of bread.
“He was willing to pay a good price, but not as much as the Academy charges. So I did it for him. I made enough to buy that cottage. Now people come to me when they need translation but don’t want to pay Academy prices.”
Airk scoffed. “I bet the Academy’s thrilled.”
“They leave me alone as long as I don’t translate anything about the gods or the laws, ours or anyone else’s.”
“How do you know about Coursa?” Jain asked.
Joff regarded her for a moment before he answered. “You have no idea who you’re working for, do you? The augurs and even the lairds fear her reach. She has evaded them for decades. They say it was her clan that killed Laird Delaval and there have been quite a few others in high places that people think she might have had killed.”
Jain wondered who Delaval was, but she got the general idea. The man in front of her had openly defied the lairds and augurs who ran all of The Holdings, but he would not risk offending Coursa.
It took another two days for them to get back to Coursa. It would normally have taken at least five days but Joff kept them moving at a brisk pace and he insisted that they travel as far as they could each day and make camp rather than stopping in towns to stay at inns. The behavior struck Jain as odd since Joff limped painfully whenever he got off a horse and because he was almost useless when it came time to make camp. He could not gather firewood in any meaningful quantity or do any other physical task . His only redeeming quality as a traveler seemed to be his ability to start a fire nearly anywhere.
“We’ll be there tomorrow,” Airk said on the third night. “That should make you happy.”
Joff looked up from his food. “I’ll be happy when I’m home. I’m not a laird or anything, but I usually keep more lawful company.”
“We didn’t choose this life,” Jain said sharply. “It’s not my fault the laird tried to deprive me of my maidenhood.”
“I’m sure the tale is both tragic and thrilling,” Joff replied in a tone that indicated he was neither sad nor thrilled. “But how you became what your are doesn’t change what you are.”
“Why does it matter?” Jain asked. She did not really care about the translator’s problems but she did not want to think about what he had said, about how she was now as much a rogue as the lowest cutpurse. “You’re already practically one of us.”
“Practically but not legally,” Joff replied. He sighed heavily. “I can’t evade capture like you can and I can’t fight like you can
. I can’t risk offending the lairds.”
“Coursa’s an old woman,” Jain said. “She’s not afraid. What do you think, Airk? Is Coursa deadly with a sword, or can she outrun the lairds’ men?” Airk chuckled.
Joff looked at her, shook his head, and lay down. He closed his eyes but he did not sleep for some time.
Coursa welcomed them the next day. All of her grandchildren save Eduard had gone. Even Grima had left on some errand. Eduard brought them food while Joff and Coursa were introduced. “He has some reservations about working for you,” Jain said as they all sat down.
“Not to worry,” Coursa said. “I understand your concerns, Master Joff. We will keep this discreet and your services will not be forgotten should you ever get into trouble.”
Joff’s gaze lingered on Coursa. He shook his head suddenly and said, “Let’s see the book.”
Coursa rose and walked past the fireplace. Then she was holding a cloth wrapped bundle. Jain squinted at Coursa. Jain had watched the old woman and Coursa had not picked anything up. One moment her hands were empty, the next she held the bundle. “Don’t do that, dear,” Coursa said kindly as she noticed Jain’s stare. “It’ll give you wrinkles.” She set the bundle down in front of Joff and stood next to him.
He looked up at her and she nodded toward the bundle. The cloth wrapping slipped away to reveal the wheel emblem of Adara. He pulled the cloth back over the book and pursed his lips. “Have you any idea of what the consequences would be if we were caught with this?”
Coursa rested a hand on his shoulder. “You are blameless. You were coerced to come here. The book has never been in your possession.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “You are safe. Now tell me about the book.”
Joff shifted uncomfortably. Women did not usually get that close to him without being paid for it. The feeling was all the stranger because he suspected that a dagger would swiftly find his back if he did not cooperate and maybe even if he did. He pushed the cloth aside and opened the book. After examining the first few pages he said, “It is a form of High Genasi that hasn’t been used in a few hundred years.” He looked Coursa’s way, and found her eyes uncomfortably close to his. The intensity of her stare gave him a curious mix of feelings. Fear was prominent among them. He turned his gaze back to the book. “It is a history or a journal. It would take months to do an exact translation. I can read it in a few days and give you the gist of it. I brought a book with me that will help.”
Coursa ran her hand across his shoulders. “You should relax, Joff. It’s not good for a young man to be so tense.”
Joff nodded his agreement. Eduard and Airk looked on without much interest. Jain stared intently at Coursa. The old woman had read Joff as easily as Joff read books. She had used intimidation, the promise of security, and womanly charm to get the desired results. Jain still could not get Airk to chew his food with his mouth closed no matter how much she flirted, pouted, and threatened.
Coursa provided Joff with an empty book to write in and ink and quills to write with. Airk fetched the bag of books Joff had brought with him. Joff found his book on the various forms of High Genasi and set to work. Jain and Airk began to take their leave but Coursa insisted that they stay and enjoy her hospitality. Eduard also stayed. Jain did not understand until the next day when Eduard came to the room she and Airk shared.
“I have to go get firewood,” Eduard explained. “Grandmother is out. One of you needs to go sit with the scribe.”
“Why?” Jain asked.
Eduard shrugged. “Grandmother’s orders. Don’t interrupt his work. Get him anything he needs. Just don’t leave him alone.”
Jain and Airk both went into the main room of the cottage. Coursa kept the place in good order but Jain started tidying up while Airk banked the fire and started shoveling some of the ashes out of the fireplace. Joff drummed his fingers on the table and once Jain caught him looking around. He looked back at the book when he saw her looking at him. In the moment their eyes had made contact Jain had seen the apprehension in his eyes. He was nervous. Jain could not really blame him.
“Is there anything I can get for you, Master Joff?” she asked.
He looked up. “I suppose a bit of privacy would be out of the question.”
“Absolutely,” Coursa said from behind him. He jumped. They all did. No one had heard her come in. She rested her hand on Joff’s left shoulder and leaned down next to his right. “Trust takes time to build, dear.”
“I appreciate that,” Joff said. “But it’s not as if I can run off.”
The hand on Joff’s shoulder slid over his chest. “Do you dislike the attention?” Coursa asked.
“Well,” Joff said. “When you put it that way . . .”
Coursa looked up at Jain and Airk. “Master Joff will work better if we give him some privacy. Master Airk, do go and see what’s keeping that grandson of mine. Jain, I could use some help in the garden.”
Airk went off into the woods to look for Eduard while Jain and Coursa went to the garden. Turnips, carrots, peas, and all sorts of other vegetables grew in orderly rows behind the cottage. Coursa knelt and began to pull weeds. Jain went to the next row and began to do the same. The only weeds were tiny sprouts amid the thriving vegetables, but Jain pulled them anyway.
“You have quite a way with people,” Jain said as they worked.
Coursa smiled at her, but did not say anything.
“You have that scribe terrified.”
“Among other things,” Coursa replied. She did not look up this time, but Jain could see her smile.
“I noticed that, too.” Jain made a conscious effort to keep her tone neutral.
“I’m still a woman,” Coursa said. “It’s not often I come across a man worth talking to.”
“You’re also old enough to be his grandmother,” Jain said, again keeping her tone neutral.
“Good thing,” Coursa said, looking up this time. “If I was in my prime there would be no way he could keep up with me.”
The sound of echoing laughter made Joff look up from his work and Airk and Eduard take their attention from the wineskin they had been sharing in the woods. Laughter like that always meant trouble. All three men knew enough about the women they were dealing with not to investigate.
“How do you do it, Coursa?” Jain asked. “The women I’ve known were all worn out by the time they were thirty. You’re . . .”
“Carefule, dear,” Coursa said in a friendly but not entirely unthreatening way.
“More than thirty,” Jain said after moment’s consideration. “But you’re still so, so full of life. Most women my age aren’t as vibrant as you.”
Coursa smiled her broad, wolfish smile. “I’m free. I always have been. It’s not children or farm work that age a woman. It’s being beholden, to a husband, or an augur, or a laird. You can be married, you can be devout, and you can be a peasant, but you have to be free. Otherwise you give up and your body gives up with you.”
“I’m lucky then,” Jain said. “Airk is a good man.”
Coursa nodded. “He seems very kind. Very gentle. And you seem happy together. If you both can keep your freedom then you will age well together.”
Jain wanted to ask if Coursa wished she had someone to age well with, but she decided not to. To ask questions like that might spoil Coursa’s disposition and to do that, as far as Jain was concerned, would be like plucking a beautiful bird. It might satisfy her curiosity, but it would destroy the beauty of the thing. “I don’t know how happy Airk is,” Jain said. “He wants children.”
Coursa nodded. “I had wondered about that. You’re not taking any herbs to prevent conception.”
Jain shook her head. “I’m afraid I might be barren.”
“It’s possible. Remember dear, it’s just as likely to be a problem with Airk as with you. And it may be that you will conceive in time.”
&
nbsp; It took Joff three days to finish reading the book. He did not attempt a full translation, though he did make notes as he read. Coursa sat with him often. She rubbed his shoulders and talked to him quietly. He chatted with her while he worked, speaking quickly and awkwardly the ways the boys in Jain and Airk’s village had done when they fancied a girl.
Airk quietly speculated that Coursa lavished attention on the crippled scribe to ensure his loyalty. A woman like that could have any man she wanted, Airk reasoned. The only reason she would her time with one as pathetic as Joff was to make sure he did what she wanted.
Jain could not deny her husband’s logic, but she suspected that there was more at work. After all, Joff was far too afraid of Coursa to attempt to deceive or betray her.
When Joff finally finished translating, Coursa, Jain, Airk, and Eduard sat around the table to hear his findings.
“The text is a journal made by a follower of Adara,” Joff began.
“Great,” Eduard said with drawn out sarcasm. “A book of shepherd’s musings.”
“I don’t think you understand,” Joff said. “The book was written by someone who physically followed Adara, someone who knew her.” Everyone leaned forward in their chairs at that. “The author describes going along on Adara’s campaign in the western shires. It’s mostly an account of the battles they fought and miracles Adara is supposed to have performed.”
“Adara died on that campaign,” Coursa said. “She was slain by the augurs.”
“Yes,” Joff replied. “That’s what our histories say. But our histories are short on details, like what happened to the augurs and the army they led.”
“I always wondered about that,” Coursa admitted. “Some say that the witch cursed them with her dying breath. Others say that the augurs returned to their homes and lived out their lives in peace.”
Joff stared at her and slowly blinked. “I might believe that second version if I’d never met an augur. Anyway, according to the book, Adara continued to fight even after she was mortally wounded. The book says that some of her followers were apostates and betrayed her to the augurs.”
“Apos . . . Apusten . . .” Airk questioned.
“So, anyway,” Joff continued. “She raged against them all. They was great slaughter. The author of the book claims to be the only survivor.”
Coursa looked at the book as if it had just turned to gold. “This may be the only account of Adara’s last days. That would be worth something to the Adarans.”
“There’s more than that.” Joff could not help but smile. For the first and in all probability the last time he was a step ahead of the legendary Coursa. When everyone’s expectant looks turned impatient, he continued. “The author claims to have buried Adara. This book gives the location of Adara’s tomb. The author claims to have buried her with her sword, along with a few other things.”
“The Sword of Adara,” Coursa gasped.
“I think I missed something here,” Airk said.
“I’m confident of that,” Joff replied dismissively. “The Sword of Adara is magical. According to legend the bearer becomes superhuman. Strength, speed . . .”
“Youth,” Coursa said.
“Yeah, that too. I made detailed notes about the location of the tomb. You should be able to find it. The way is dangerous. What were the western shires in Adara’s time are now the Goblin Hills.” They all looked at each other soberly. Many lairds had fought wars to drive the goblins back to the hills and keep them there. But none dared to engage the strange, wild men on their own ground.
Coursa rose from the table and was suddenly holding a small cloth bag. It jingled. All eyes turned to the bag, which she handed to Joff. That much silver would buy him a beautiful wife, or two ugly ones. He held the bag in one hand and dumped a few of the coins out into the other. The bag was full of gold. His eyes bulged for a moment before he had the presence of mind to shove the coins back into the bag. “Thank you.”
Coursa stepped closer to him, so close her hip nearly touched his shoulder, and leaned down to directly in his ear. “That sword is priceless. You are the only one who can read that journal. If I send anyone else, even people who can read your notes, then I’m leaving it to chance. I want you to go. There would be a great deal more coin. And my gratitude.”
Joff sighed. “I can’t fight, I can’t cast magic. I can’t walk all that fast or all that far and the hill country is too rugged for horses. I would be a liability.”
“He’s a coward,” Jain muttered. The next thing she knew she was on the floor with her jaw hurting and Coursa standing over her. Airk jumped to his feet and Eduard jumped after him. Before Eduard could reach Airk, Coursa grabbed the front of Airk’s trousers. Airk made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan. Coursa let him go and he crumpled back into his chair.
“He knows his limits and he’s smart enough not to endanger those around him,” Coursa said calmly as she stood over Jain. “Because of him we’re on the verge of finding the greatest treasure since . . . since . . .” she waved her hands in a vague gesture.
“Since forever,” Joff said helpfully.
Jain slowly rose. “I’m sorry. I meant no . . .”
“Pack your things for a journey,” Coursa said. “Tomorrow the three of you are setting out for the hills, and the tomb.”
“Us?” Airk groaned.
“Everyone else is away,” Coursa replied. “Fighting the Rephaim, mostly. They attacked again while you were fetching the scribe. Most of my clan have either hired out as mercenaries or are defending my interests.”
“I’ll help you prepare,” Eduard said. Jain walked out, rubbing her jaw, followed by a limping Airk and a smirking Eduard.
“That was quite a show,” Joff said when the others had gone. He stood by the fire, warming his hands.
Coursa walked up to him. “Are you suggesting that I would fake my protectiveness and concern for you?”
Joff thought about what had happened to Airk. “Are you going to do something painful to me if I say ‘Yes’?”
Coursa inclined her head. “Maybe.”
Joff thought for a moment. “Oh, well. Yes, I’m saying you might fake the display.”
Coursa smiled broadly. “So clever. So what do I have to say to get you to go?”
“If the Rephaim are attacking then the road home won’t be safe. I’ll go for the tomb. Though staying here certainly has its appeal.”
Coursa reached up and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Intelligent and charming. Your qualities are multiplying.”
Joff stepped back and looked at the fireplace. “Coursa, you know I want the sword to be magic. If the legends are true then it can restore my strength and your youth, maybe forever. The possibilities are enticing. But what if it’s just a sword?”
“Then we sell it, along with everything else I get.” She stepped closer and he did not step away this time. “Let’s not worry about that now. I have a bottle of wine of a good vintage. We have the cottage to ourselves.”
“That’s a very practical attitude.” He looked at her and smiled. Her dark eyes were intelligent, passionate, and fiercely alive. “You have remarkable eyes.”
“The better to admire you with, my dear.”
Outside, Eduard walked Jain and Airk back to their cabin. “Are you both okay?” Eduard asked.
“I can’t believe she did that,” Airk said.
“It’s not like Joff is a warrior or anything,” Jain added. “She didn’t have to hit me.”
“Yeah,” Airk agreed. “And it’s just not right to take a man by the turnips.”
As they reached the couple’s cottage, Eduard made a growling sound. “My grandmother took you in when you had nowhere to go. She gave you a good cut. She found work for you and let you build a house in her woods. What in the names of all the gods are you complaining about?”
“She hit me!” Jain protested. r />
“She grabbed me by the balls!” Airk added.
Eduard pointed at Jain. “You insulted the man who will likely make us all rich. That was after you failed to talk him into coming on a paying job. You had to threaten him, make him nervous.” Jain started to reply, but Eduard had already turned to Airk. “And you stood as if to fight an old woman. What did you think she was going to do, challenge you to arm wrestle? And after all that she’s still keeping you both in her service and sending you on the job you almost ruined.” Eduard took a deep, calming breath and ran his hand through his hair. “The fact that the two of you don’t get down on your knees and plead for grandmother’s mercy shows just how ungrateful you both are.”
Jain’s mouth hung open, her retort lost. Airk did not meet her gaze or Eduard’s. “I wouldn’t have expected all that from you, Eduard,” she finally said.
Eduard swelled a bit at that. “Our clan has prospered for decades under her guidance. Every member of the clan, every single person in our employ is beholden to her to one degree or another. You have to remember that.”
“What happens when she can’t lead anymore?” Jain asked. “Is there a successor?”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Airk said. “She moves faster than an old woman should. She is lovelier than an old woman should be. She is stronger,” he put a hand over his crotch as he spoke, “than most men her age. I think it will take more than time to end her.”
“Very astute,” Eduard said. “I was starting to think you were just a stupid farm boy. My grandmother’s secrets are her own. But there are many who speculate that she has had help keeping the effects of her age at bay. Grima is one of the best Augurs in all The Holdings and there’s no telling what other help she’s picked up over the years.”
“How old is she?” Airk asked.
Eduard shook his head. “No one knows. Some say she went by another name before she was Coursa. She has to be at least sixty.”
“And it doesn’t bother you that she’s seducing a man our age as we speak,” Jain asked.
Eduard smiled at that, looking every bit the man who had nearly stolen Jain’s heart and hand from Airk. “Grandmother once taught me a saying: ‘Cherish the vices of your elders. Had they not been tempted, you would not be here.’”
They all shared a laugh at that and the tension broke. Eduard took the time to help them pack for the journey before he went back to his own cottage to pack his things. They would be on horseback for the few days and Jain and Airk could handle packing for that on their own. But they would also spend a large part of the trip hiking through rugged hill country. Bringing too much would mean being weighed down. Bringing too little would mean going hungry or thirsty. They would have to move quickly and be ready to fight goblins at any time. And they would have to protect Joff and carry his share as well as their own. Nothing extra could be brought but nothing necessary could be left behind.
The next morning Joff rose early and went through his bags. The Adaran’s journal had to come with them but he was not really sure what else to take. He had never traveled like this before. In the end he decided on a few basics: a change of clothes, a water skin, a bag for food, and . . .
“A sword?” Jain asked. Joff had not heard her walk into the stable. “Are you becoming a fighter now?”
Joff regarded the sword. It was short, no more than three feet from tip to pommel, and had a narrower blade than most. “It’s more for show than anything.”
“Do you know how to use it?” Eduard asked as he walked by.
“Fencing was required at the Academy.” Joff put on the sword belt. “I probably won’t cut myself.”
“That’s very reassuring,” Jain said. She proceeded to her own horse and started getting him ready.
When they were all ready to go they led their horses to the front of the cottage. Coursa came out to see them off. She gave each of them a bag of food to tuck into their saddlebags. Jain, Airk, and Eduard climbed onto their horses right away. Joff lingered as his eyes locked with Coursa’s.
“It seems a shame to have leave when I’ve just met you,” he said.
“Then be quick,” she said with a smile. They stood in silence for a moment while the others looked on. “Take this,” Coursa finally said. She took off one of her necklaces, a narrow leather strap with a medallion that had been hidden under her blouse. The medallion was a copper cat.
Joff admired it for a moment before he put it on. “Thank you.”
“The cat is a reminder of the rewards of skill and cunning,” Coursa said. “It’s made from a penny, a reminder that very good things can come out of something that doesn’t seem to be worth much.”
Joff wrapped her in as tight of a hug as his feeble arms could manage. “I’ll wear it, and think of you,” he whispered. Then he kissed her and stepped away quickly. He swung up onto his horse and urged it forward.
“What’s the rush?” Eduard asked as he struggled to get his horse to keep up. Jain and Airk followed behind him. They cringed at twigs and branches reaching out from the sides of the track that Joff seemed not to notice.
“The sooner we get there,” Joff called over his shoulder, “the sooner we get back.”
Out of deference to the horses Joff eventually agreed to a more reasonable pace. They traveled north and west, through lands known to Eduard but not to the others. The area they traveled was part of Jain and Airk’s home shire but was not close to their village, or to anything else for that matter. It was close to the Goblin Hills.