Journey To Light: Part I of the High Duties of Pacia Page 26

CHAPTER 21

  Caelia § 3

  Tabari, the son of Dagan and Matrika, insisted on comparing birthdays with Caelia and since they had nothing else to do while they sat and waited for the meeting to begin, she humored him.

  “Aha!” he exclaimed when she told him hers. “You’re only six months older than me. You make it sound like you’re a whole year older, but you’re thirteen and three months and I’m twelve and nine months and that only makes half of a year’s difference.”

  “I know how calendars work, Tabari. Do you actually have a point you’re trying to make?”

  “If we’re only six months apart, you can’t possibly be my older sister,” Tabari said. “It takes longer than that for a baby to come out after the parents do it.” The grin on his face made it seem like he thought he was saying something dirty.

  “I also know how long a baby stays in the womb. Has it occurred to you that we’re only pretending to be siblings?” Before he could answer she added, “Siblings means brothers and sisters.” The boy’s face clouded. Caelia’s implication that she needed to define words for him insulted the boy.

  “You know everything – according to you – but you’re not the only one who understands a lot of words, Caelia. Next you’ll say you’re smarter than anyone,” Tabari complained. Technically Caelia did know she was, but the sense of tact and diplomacy she had learned from her mother would never allow her say such a rude thing out loud.

  “You shouldn’t be upset, Tabari,” Caelia said. “It really doesn’t matter who plays what role. Some of us, like me, have parents who can’t go on the trip so we have to pretend to be somebody else’s children.”

  “If it doesn’t matter, then why can’t I be the older brother?”

  Caelia sighed. “Because I’m taller than you.”

  “No you’re not.”

  Rather than argue, Caelia stood up and said, “Want to compare?” Tabari looked the other way and kept his seat. As she sat back down Caelia thought to herself, why are boys always so fragile? Using her calm tone she said, “I like the idea of you being my brother, and I know I’m only a little bit older even if people who don’t know us guess wrong.”

  Caelia glanced around at the others who also sat in the meeting area, her co-journeyers on the trade expedition scheduled to leave the next morning. Being Caelia, she had automatically taken a seat in the first row. Tabari sat next to her either because he felt entitled to be in front since his parents were the leaders (the answer he would have given if asked) or because he was following Caelia (the answer he would not have given but was still true). The final selection had been made; sixty-eight adults and twenty-five kids would make the trip. Every group in Annâles-Scientia was represented, including the savant-litteratae since Caelia was along. Feeling was strong throughout the population that going outside was a risk to be shared by everyone in turn regardless of their occupation, so finding enough volunteers was never a problem. Eight of the kids were sturdy sixteen year old boys of the type Caelia had complained about earlier. These were paired with younger men in the belief they would appear to be brothers rather than children. The others were either with their parents or posing as another couple’s child like Caelia.

  Prior to the implementation of Caelia’s plan, two members of each expedition were always assigned to each wagon, meaning sixty-eight adults would have driven thirty-four wagons. No attention had been paid to appearance before so some wagons were driven by two men, by two women, or by obviously mismatched pairs. As Caelia had pointed out, none of them had looked like plausible family units. This time thirty wagons were operated by actual couples with youngsters interspersed among them. Eight more were each ridden by single men accompanied by a ‘younger brother.’

  When Dagan and Matrika arrived and walked to the front of the group, Caelia saw Macon Peder, an artifexer, among the people with them. One of the artifexers always spoke to the departing groups to demonstrate the products which would be taken as trade goods. The expedition would break into smaller groups once they moved away from the mountains, so every member needed to be able to recite the uses and values of each item to prospective customers. Most products were familiar but the artifexers always managed to devise a few surprises and Macon had one of those with him.

  When Dagan and Matrika stepped aside, Macon began by demonstrating the new product before describing it. He preferred doing over talking, he always said. As he held it up, people saw that it consisted of two metal cylinders about a quarter-cubit in length which were stacked one atop the other with a hand-grip attached below. The lower cylinder was fatter and had the plunger of a small hand-pump protruding from the rear. The upper had an opening at the front from which the sharp end of a metal dart extended. Holding it in his right hand, Macon used his left to push the plunger in and out for several strokes. He pointed the gadget at a block of wood on the floor beside him and his forefinger pulled back what was obviously a triggering lever. A noise somewhere between a pop and a puff was accompanied by a thump as the dart dug its head into the wood.

  “We call it an air-darter,” Macon told everyone. He looked as pleased as if some great triumph had just been achieved. “You can trade them to villagers to be used for hunting birds or killing vermin.”

  “Aren’t bows and arrows a lot cheaper?” someone asked.

  “Um . . . I think . . .,” Macon stammered. Like most artifexers, he spent all his time making things rather than considering the intricacies of market demand. Fortunately, Matrika came to his rescue.

  “A few folks will buy something more expensive just because it’s new and different,” she explained. “More important, demonstrating Macon’s little gadgets should attract attention and get people to look at our other goods too. We always carry a few items like that.” Macon wasn’t quite certain whether her words ‘little gadgets’ were insulting or not and for a moment didn’t remember that he had more goods to display. Matrika gave him a small nudge to get him started. When Macon finished, Matrika turned to the next speaker and said, “Myla, would you give us some advice about money now?”

  Myla was a teacher who had made a study about the vagaries of monetary usage in the outside world. She spoke at length explaining why coins from any Great City were preferable to those from smaller ones such as Anstrella or Torae, except for the silver argents minted in Lucidus which were desirable anywhere, and why Westanian coinage was less reliable than most. She told them how many Anstrellan pence were in a shilling and what number of dimes made up one Matik pecunia, and then she concluded with advice on detecting forgeries before yielding the floor back to Matrika and Dagan.

  “I know you’ve all rehearsed your stories and know what to say when people outside ask questions,” Matrika said to everyone. “But I’m still going to repeat the highlights. If someone asks where you’re from, be vague but don’t sound evasive. Tell them our home is on the bank of the Fallal River south of the mountains but still far from Lucidus, and the reason we travel all the way to wherever you are at the time is that it’s unprofitable and risky to cross the Fallal to the east. People will understand that and won’t question why we only trade to the south and west of where we say we live. If pressed, say the name of our town is Alteria and the reason no one has heard of it is because it’s small and distant.”

  “We remember all this and the rest of the story too,” someone said from the middle of the group.

  Matrika smiled and said, “All right. Then I’ll let Dagan have the last word.”

  “We’ll all meet here before dawn and leave as soon as we have enough light to see,” Dagan reminded them. “Wear the clothes which were distributed rather than your regular outfits and pay attention to sunburn. Wear your hats and long sleeves until you’ve had a chance to get some tan. Get some rest tonight and remember leaving through the outer gate is different from taking the inner one.”

  Caelia had been through the inner gate often enough, although only for a few minutes at a time with small groups. She knew what fi
r trees looked like and about the difference between moss and lichen. She could also identify three types of wildflowers – indigo bells, bleeding hearts, and white trillium. Although she had never left home via the outer gate, she assumed that similar plants grew there. But she knew what Dagan meant about differences in the two exits. On the inside of the mountains, there was a considerable drop from the gate to the level of the High Plateau of Pàçia. Outside, however, the downhill slope was much longer since the plains below in that direction were lower than the plateau. As soon as the meeting ended, Caelia took Dagan’s advice and went home to rest.