Jo Clayton - Fire in the Sky

She stretched out, yawned, but couldn’t recover the drifty doze she’d been in when he called out. She’d done everything she could think of to get the handcom working again, but repairing solid state electronics with a screwdriver and a talent for mindlifting small objects wasn’t a very hopeful project to start with and she got the results she’d expected. She thought about throwing the thing away as useless weight, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do that. Not yet.

Aslan would be bothered over no reports coming back, but she wouldn’t worry too much. Shadith smiled into the darkness, remembering the Scholar’s acerbic comments on administrative stupidity. Not one to suffer fools lightly, Aslan. Talking about fools. Smugglers bringing in guns. Those were offworld pellet shooters the choreks had. I should have taken them apart instead of just leaving them beside the corpses. Well, no time for it, I’ll just have to live with that Won’t be Arel. How odd to come across word of him again. Or maybe not so odd. The Callidara was part of his round before Bogmak. And won’t he be pissed if the Chave win the prize and shut the world on him. She sighed.

She was deeply tired, but sleep kept eluding her no matter how she tried to clear her mind. In a few days, less than a week, she’d be answering questions for the Meruus. What happens after that? I’ve done what Aslan brought me along to do. Now what happens. What do I do? What do I do? Burning Eolt. She shuddered. That has to stop. I have to help. Somehow. Aslan can testify, say we make it offworld. Which may be a very iffy thing. The Ykkuval has to know he doesn’t dare let us get away. What do I do? Go after them. Use what I can do… animal armies… I haven’t tried it with budders I wonder if I can mindride local vermin? Hm. No, don’t try it now, you get started, you’ll never get to sleep.

She heard the clink of the glass, thought about going over to help the Fior, after a moment, though, she decided he’d feel better doing as much for himself as he could. In the morning, soon as Maorgan gets back from whatever bed he’s found, I’ll ask him to give Danor a bath and a shave. Gods, I hope we get out of here soon, this place is growing on me like mold

Amalia Udaras was a middle-aged woman with gray-streaked brown hair. Her face was round, comfortable, still pretty, her eyes big and a dark strong blue. She’d chosen to be interviewed in the garden of her house where she had a good view of the river.

“I like to sit out here when I have a little time and the day’s a clear one. My Tamhan, he’s Kabit on the Ploлsca , my eldest boy, Dolbary, he was good at making things even when he was barely crawling, he’s carpenter’s mate on the Morrail, and my second boy, Beill, he’s prenticed to the pilot on the Grassul. Never a one of them ever had a doubt in his head that he’d be working the river when his time came. I’ve always wished I’d had a daughter or two, but Beill came hard and after him, I couldn’t have more. Cha oy, Chel Dй has his reasons.”

“Kabit. An interesting word when you look at the roots. A well/source. The rule. Will you explain it, Amalia Udaras?”

“Ah. The Kabit of a sailbarge is two things at once, Scholar. He holds coin, lends and collects interest on coin lent. Because he is moving continually along the river, this is convenient for traders and storekeepers. My Tamhan is a clever man, numbers dance for him, though he hasn’t as much time for them as he likes. He has two apprentices who do much of the actual accounting. He is also the chief officer of the barge, concerned with cargo, crew, and safe sailing. Is that sufficient?”

“Not only sufficient but interesting. I’d like to interview him if he can find a moment to talk with me. But that’s for later. Go on with what you were telling me.”

“As I said, I like to sit out here and watch the river. It’s like it ties me to my Tamhan and Dolbary and Beill. There, you see that bit of slickery there on the water, means there was a storm up near the mountains a few days ago, there’s something in the soil up there that makes that glitter when the river’s carrying new mountain mud. I used to worry when I saw that and understood what it meant. I still do, a little. You know every ten years we have the Blianta Sirnur which is rather like the Mengerak. The Children’s Walk. Did they tell you about that? Cha Oy. The Blianta Simur is a pilgrimage like that. People travel to shrines or just go visiting, or go to Chuta Meredel to study something. Not everyone, of course. Most folks only make one Blianta in their lives, though some do three or four. And if you’re always traveling like my Tamhan, cha oy, you just don’t bother. But one year he got permission for me to come on the barge with him so I could make my Blianta. What? Oh, yes. They do take passengers sometimes. Some barges. It depends upon the Kabit. Some don’t like having dirteaters on their boats. That’s what they call us, you know, even me, though I’m married and mother to the river, you might say. Anyway, we went through a terrible storm, but the barge it was tight and rode easy enough, so I haven’t worried near so much since. Mostly, if you’re on a barge and not part of the crew, you’re expected to keep out of the way at all times, otherwise you might find yourself on shore and walking.”

“Barge season. It’s high season now. You will see a lot of traffic on the river these days. The season generally runs from Kirrayl through Termallyl, that’s thaw through to the first big snowfall, though if it’s a mild winter in the mountains sometimes the first barges will leave in Diokayl, unless it’s a Fifth year when Diokayl loses a day and is called Getrentyl, that’s an old word for Sorrow, you know. When Diokayl is Getrentyl, no one starts anything. It is very bad luck. The children who are born in Getrentyl have a curse on them, they either die young or go bad some way. The Denchoks never bud in the winter months so they are spared that.”

“How long is Tamhan usually away? That varies according to how far upriver he goes and what loads he finds. If he fills up early, he comes back sooner. In general, though, in season he is away between forty and fifty days each trip and each season he will make around five trips. In the winter, when the barge is in drydock, he consults with the owners, works on the books, looks over the loans to see which are current and which look like they might go bad on him, makes plans for the next season, and oversees repairs and cleaning of the barge. Time he has left over, he plays dissa or droic with the other bargemen, works on our house-he’s neat fingered and clever, Dolbary gets his talent from his Da-goes to Council meetings and does the thousand small things he’s had to let go since Spring.”

“Me? Oh, what I do isn’t very interesting. Just a lot of little things. I make the boys’ clothes and keep them mended. Tamhan gets his shore clothes made by the tailor, of course. He has to look just right when he’s talking with merchants and mill owners and miners. I do make his workshirts, though. And I make the covers for the furnishings in his cabin on the barge. I do needlepoint, it’s something I take pleasure in. I make up my own designs and Tamhan tells me they are much admired, so perhaps Dolbary gets a little of his gift from his mother, too. I take care of the house. I take my turn fixing lunch at the school, I help the Denchok and the other Dumel wives arrange things for the fetes and rites and celebrations. Why just this last Summerday; I baked the suncakes and the berry bread and kept an eye on the children as they strung pennants and looped poppers around to make the fine noise of the Summer Greeting.”