Book One: Chapter Two

Chained Innocence 

A man stood nervously on a wooden platform with his arms behind his back. He had short hair and a large nose. There were heavy bags beneath his eyes, presumably from lack of sleep. A rope noose was placed about his neck by a tall individual in a black skullcap. The sound of a crowd could be heard around him. Then a burlap sack was placed over his head. The crowd was murmuring louder now and jeering. The man with the black hat went to a lever and pulled it. A trap door opened beneath the man with the sack over his head. He fell and the noose caught his neck with a jerk. Those in the crowd cheered. 

The twins and their mother sat in a small carriage looking over the crowd towards the spectacle on the wooden execution stage.  Allora wasn’t looking towards the hanged man, she had decided to look down at the crowd.  If she had looked completely away, her mother would have been upset.  She had made that mistake too many times to repeat it. Adalla looked towards the man struggling on the rope and felt sad.

“It’s been too long since we’ve seen an execution,” Farnei said with a smile.  It makes me feel… safe."

“Gerbin, lets go,” she ordered.

“Yes m’lady.”

Gerbin led them with his horse from the front.  The crowd was thick, so they went slow, but the townsfolk were keen to move out of the way. It was not uncommon to be trod beneath a horse in Kirsgar.  

“Now if only thou wouldst not get in so much trouble,” Farnei sighed.  “Adalla didn't get caught up by a giant bird. Or-"

“But mother she—”

“Don’t,” Farnei said with a firm glance.

Allora became silent.

“Yes sure, Adalla has gotten into her fair stints of trouble.  She did ruin a new dress while learning to ride a horse, but thou were so young then, and didst thou not startle the horse?”

“Nay she—” Adalla began.

“Adalla,” Farnei warned.  The young woman was quiet.

“I just wish thee wouldst have more sense than to go outside with thy wedding dress, but then I should know by now that thou dost have no sense.  Once the dress is mended, thou willst not wear it until thy wedding day.”

The city was bustling this day and after several minutes they had moved from the center of town. They went east through the first wall.  And then about five more minutes of travel through the streets.

Gerbin stopped several yards from a short building with a sign of an anvil and hammer out front.  The shop was wide with a long hitching post outside and loud clanging heard from the open door. Gerbin got down from the horse and stood at the carriage door after opening it.

Lady Farnei came out of the carriage first, her hand against Gerbin's shoulder as she dismounted.  Her white skirts flowed out onto the cobblestoned streets.  Next Allora came, her pale blue dress was simple with a small paisley pattern at the front surrounded by a white striped skirt around the back.  The dress was high around her neck and completely covered her arms to the wrist. Adalla came out with the same style and color dress.

Gerbin helped the twins out of the carriage and then tied the horses to the post.

“Come with me dears,” Farnei said to her daughters.  “Gerbin stay with the horses.”

“Yes Lady Farnei,” he said, bowing his head in respect.

“The smith mother? Why not go to the one at home?” Adalla asked.

“That fool can barely mend a horseshoe. Thou wert complaining thy kusheitgertel didn’t fit as of late. Didst thou not?”

“Yes,” Adalla and Allora said solemnly together.

“Then we should get it adjusted now. This will be the last time it is removed save for thy wedding day. Just come in,” she ordered.

They entered the loud building, the smell of smoke thick through the door. Gerbin rest his hand on his mount while he watched the people pass outside.  Then clanging inside stopped.  The sun rose up above the building before the clanging began again. Farnei and the twins walked out shortly after and entered the carriage.

“Now to the tailor,” Farnei said.

“Yes m’lady,” Gerbin replied

They rode west, parallel to the wall for a bit and then turned left towards the second wall.  They stopped at a building much like the others with a small footprint on the street and a large overhanging living quarters above.  The sign on the front of the building hung from a pole with chains and was a painted image of needle and a rolled span of thread.

Gerbin got down from his horse and helped the women down. 

“Gerbin, get the bag please,” she said with a wave to her horse carriage.  “No Adalla, thou shalt stay here.”

The short man dressed in a faded black tunic untied a wooden case from the side of the horse.  They entered the tailor’s shop and after setting down the case on the large flat counter inside, Farnei excused the driver to watch the horses.

The air in the shop felt thick with burning oil lanterns.  Only dim light came through the small slatted windows made of a mosaic of circular glass and metal framework.  There were tunics, doublets and dresses, all matters of finery but only a few for display along the walls.  The shop was quiet except for a spinning wheel behind the counter, in use by an older woman with white hair, holding up a distaff of flax.

            “Etae!” the woman said, with a turn of her head towards the back of the shop, where a small opening led up with stairs to the second story.  “’ell be along shorter now,” she said in a thick Uiken accent.

A man roughly thirty years old came down the stairs, needles in his tunic and thread coming out of one pocket sewed into the right side of his shirt near the stomach. He had light brown hair and eyes.

            “Greetings,” he said with a small bow of his head. “I am the owner, Etae the tailor. How can I help thee m’lady?” he said meekly.

            “I am the Viscountess Farnei,” she said.

            "Yes, of course, I am honored. Thank you Lady Farnei, how might I serve you?”

            “I need thee to mend this dress” she said, patting the wooden case on the long counter.

            “May I open it?” he asked.

            “Yes of course.”

            “Thank thee,” he said and unclasped the case and slowly swung the hinges open.  The case was thick and a flowing white dress was kept inside, with thick leather straps holding it down. He undid the straps and pulled it out. Lace and eyelets ran in horizontal loops around the skirts.  There was also a white bodice with rose and paisley designs. 

            “Very beautiful,” he said, examining the fabric.  

            “Yes... yes, canst thou mend the garment? There are tears on the bottom of the skirt.”

            The tailor drew his hands across the linen until he located the problem.  There were places on the skirt that were torn out.

            “Hmm yes, I think so,” he nodded.

            “This is quite important, my daughter is to be married next year.  It must be repaired.”

            The tailor grabbed a lantern from a hook on the wall and placed it on the counter he peered closely at the cloth.

            “I don’t believe I have a fabric that will match this,” he admitted.  “I’ll go to the clothier and see if he has a match if you’ll leave the dress with me.  I may have to replace the skirt with a similar cloth if he doesn't have it. I can have it three days and of course a special price for the Duchess,” he smiled.

            "Are you sure you can do the same pattern? I don't want a different one."

He looked at the intricate detail for a few seconds.

"Yes no problem."

"Very well then. How much?"

"Hmm, eight silver."

Farnei opened a purse she was carrying and counted out eight silver discs imprinted with the profile of a crowned man.

"Thank thee," he said. "If thou return in half a fortnight I'll be finished. "

"Couldst thou deliver the finished gown to Meikell manor?" Farnei asked, holding out another two silver.

            “Meikell manor?"

"About three hours travel." 

"Yes I suppose I could have my son do that after its finished."

            Etae, the tailor, went to the stairs and yelled. 

"Deikun, come down."

A few moments later a gangly young man with shoulder-length brown hair, a large nose, and stubble where a mustache might be, arrived at the bottom of the steps. He wore a undyed gray tunic and breeches. When he same into the room, he stared at Allora.

"Son."

"What is it father?" he said, looking at Etae and moving closer. 

"Take a look at this fabric. We need to find the same color and equal quality replacement at the clothier. This order is for the Viscountess, so its top priority."

"Yes father."

"I will leave thee to thy work," Farnei said.

"Thank you Viscountess," Etae said.

            “Come along Allora,” she said, pulling on the wooden knob. Allora gazed back over her shoulder at Deikun when she left. His dark eyes caught her gaze. She didn't often see boys from the city and she was curious about him.

Gerbin was fingering the dagger on the hilt of his belt when he saw the door open.  He helped Farnei and her daughter back into the carriage.

            “Gerbin take us to the blacksmith again.”

            Allora looked out the window at the townspeople.  There were so many of them all carrying different items and dressed in different clothes.  It was much different than the manor where she lived.  She enjoyed the city, if not the smell, but the many sights that were quite entertaining.  A woman walked through the city on the arm of a man, her dress cut in a fashion Allora hadn’t seen before.  The front was open slightly around the neck, the hem lined with lace.  Her dress was pale pink and quite beautiful with long folds and a long belt adorning her waist.

            “She looks like a strumpet,” Farnei whispered. She put her head out.

            Allora turned to her mother.

            “Showing her body in a such a way,” she said with a shake of her head.  “That’s why I don’t like taking you to the city,” she frowned.  “Those Jeneh and Trocanos that live here… fornicators… considering only the pleasures of the flesh.  They like Akain’ah are consumed by it.” She said with disgust.  “I'm afraid our country is losing it's morals.”

Allora and Adalla were silent.

                They arrived at the blacksmith again the sound of clanging metal could be heard from outside.  A horse came from the side of the blacksmith, freshly shod.  Gerbin dismounted first and then helped Lady Farnei down.

            “Come along girls,” she said as Gerbin helped her daughter down.

            “Watch the horses,” Lady Farnei ordered as they entered.

            Gerbin untied a large burlap satchel from the side of his horse.  The bag of the box was full of dried alfalfa.  He held the feeding back in front of one of the horses.

            He watched as the horse began to eat the dried grass.  He had to pull it away before it ate too much and then moved on, feeding the other horses.

            “All gone,” he announced when the last horse had reached the bottom. He could feel the animal’s teeth and lips pressing against his hand through the bag. Then he gave the horses water with a wooden bucket. 

            For a while he leaned against the blacksmith wall looking out at the townsfolk. He heard a shriek and turned. A woman sat on the cobblestones, a spilled basket of apples before her.  A man in a faded leather smock stood over her with his closed fist held up. She shrunk from him and he hit her face on her cheek. She cried softer this time.

            “Teach you to drop it!” he shouted. “Now pick ‘em up.”

            She bowed her head while she gathered all the apples into the large basket and then placed them on her head when she was finished.  The man watched and then continued to walk.  She followed directly behind him.

            Gerbin opened one of the saddlebags from his horse pulled out a chunk of dense brown bread.  He munched through the hard dough quickly and swallowed large chunks. The horses defecated onto the stone in the street, as he took out a small skin of water.  He leaned his hand against the horse as he took a draught of water and returned it to the saddlebag.  The sun was just starting its way down from its zenith.  The clanging in the smithy had stopped and his eyes became heavy as he waited. Shrugging his shoulders he went to the horses and started examining their hooves but seemed to find no fault. He leaned against the hitching post and then heard clanging from the smithy again.  The clanging stopped and started over many hours until the sun was getting low.

            The smithy was quiet and light began to shine from inside.  The smith had a thick leather smock on. He had a thick brown beard and light brown eyes beneath bushy eyebrows. He stood at his anvil solemnly, his eyes looking down.

There was a click from around the corner in the back of the smithy and he straightened up. Then there was another. 

“Does it fit?” he asked.

"Yes," Farnei said coming into view. She took a chain with two keys hanging off and placed it over her neck. Then she pushed it down, hiding it beneath her clothes. "I thank thee for thy careful work," she said and set a gold coin on a nearby wooden counter.

"Thank you m'lady," he said.

The twins came out from the corner and followed their mother out of the blacksmith. 

Behind the smith resting on the anvil was a bronze metal belt with a strip of metal making a sort of steel loincloth with intricate swirling designs and a small relief of a naked man and woman separated by a cherry tree.  In the front was a lock connected to a metal belt that connected to the sides of the loincloth by the hips.  Far below the lock on the strip of metal was a long oval shaped hole.

Preface     B1.C01     B1.C02     B1.C03     B1.C04     B1.C05     B1.C06     B1.C07     B1.C08     B1.C09