A novel by Meredith Skye
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The next day Lord Risser still hadn't returned. Lujen took Jesh to the library inside the main house and got him permission to read more books. Jesh spent some time in there researching the Court of Lords and their law system.
Jesh also studied some about the Houses that made up the Court of Lords. Officially, there were sixteen Houses that had membership in the Court. The Hasson was the most populated House, but the Terresheld'eneth was the largest for land and they had almost as many people, though the Hasson had long had a feud with that house.
The houses to the north had been friendly to the Hasson during Lord Demmin's time, Jesh remembered. But now, according to Lujen, Risser had befriended many of the southern houses. They had been opposed to contact with the Prenth and their technology.
One morning Jesh sat in the study, with a stack of paper, working on the resolution. He crumpled up the page he had been writing a tossed it aside. Impatient, he got up and paced around the room. He needed his notebook, the one from his bag. In it he had notes on the criterion for writing the resolution. It would be difficult to make much more progress without that.
The door opened and Lujen entered. "Jesh, good morning," he said.
Jesh nodded.
"Everything all right?" asked Lujen.
"No. I need that notebook. Has no one seen my bag?" He didn't hold out much hope.
"I asked Lady Tireth'darra just this morning and there still is no word."
Jesh muttered something and paced back over to his desk but didn't sit down. "I need that. It contains details I need to know."
Lujen set his cloak on the couch, watching Jesh. "Why don't you come with me to Arrassen? I think you could use a break."
"And do what?" asked Jesh discouraged.
"Something else, for awhile anyway. I'm going shopping at the market. It'll be good for you to get some fresh air."
Jesh nodded assent.
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The two hour journey to Arrassen led them through mostly low-lying fields of hay, wheat or rye, dotted with the occasional fruit orchard. Jesh rode alongside Lujen on horseback. Being back in the saddle reminded Jesh of his younger days, back when he really enjoyed riding. Now he was badly out of practice, though he'd gotten some opportunity at the stable. The cool fall air felt refreshing and a dim sun attempted to warm the chill morning air.
After awhile, Jesh relaxed some, though he was still urgent to get the resolution done and to find an opportunity to speak to Lord Risser about it. The Heir, however, hadn't returned yet from Yannishannor, so nothing could really be done. And Jesh worried that without the Heir, nothing would be possible. Would he help? A bleak sense of foreboding surrounded that question and lay heavily on Jesh's mind. How could he convince the headstrong, opinionated, stubborn conservative son of Demmin of the urgency of embracing new ways?
The town of Arrassen lay in the middle of a farming. The Hasson'landith held some of the most fertile farmland of all the houses. And one the main products of the Hasson was beer. Dark ale, light ale. Of course, during Lord Demmin's day, printing and the making of books had been a big part of the Hasson's industry. Lord Risser hadn't followed after his father in that regard. If it weren't for Lady Tireth, and her occasional printing requests, for poetry and other small books, Jesh was certain Risser would have destroyed the printing press and melted it down.
In mid-afternoon they arrived in the town. They left their horses at a stable and set off for the market on foot.
The market was full of vegetables, fruit, live chickens, string, rugs, pocket watches, dishes, live rabbits, saddles, hot soup, and just about anything that could be had on a young world like Kinthaldith.
"The market in Anbarran is bigger," said Lujen. "But we'd need a full day for the trip. Maybe next time. In Anbarran, they even have a theater. Do you enjoy plays?"
"Sometimes," said Jesh.
"It's the latest from Callantorry. That's where all the best plays come from here. We don't have our own acting troops."
Jesh nodded, remembering that Callantorry as a land famous for drama and music. Like gypsies, many of them they led a wandering lifestyle, going from land to land, singing as bards or doing plays.
The sun shone warmly and Jesh relaxed and let himself wander through the bazaar, looking at all the tables and watching the people dressed in their bright shawls and speaking Kinthaldan. It all brought back fond memories of his childhood; being home again felt very good.
Near the center of the square a crowd gathering around a table and a man who stood on a box, proclaiming the superiority of his wares--the latest pistols from Farhoven. Jesh glanced at the silver colored guns in passing, not all that interested. Kinthaldith had always had guns, though they were rudimentary, compared to Prenth guns.
"These guns will shoot farther, last longer and can fire six bullets without reloading. Never in twenty years have you seen so many advances as in this gun and at thirty gold pieces less than the old guns from Sannantrovvist. Well worth the price, I'm telling you."
Hearing the man's boast, Jesh turned and looked again at the guns. He'd never used a gun before but he knew something of manufacturing and science. Such a leap in technology piqued his curiosity, and filled him with a sudden suspicion, leading him to turn back for another look at the array of pistols.
Jesh reached out and picked up a gun, weighing it in his hand. The gun felt light, and the metal looked hard and flawless. Was Kinthaldith capable of making such guns or had they come from somewhere else--like Prent? But why would the Prent want to give guns to Kinthaldans? It would break every interstellar law, if they had.
Jesh looked around for Lujen but couldn't see him--he'd utterly track of him. He took a few steps away from the crowd, trying to get a better view of the square.
Suddenly a man grabbed him from behind. Jesh struggled to free himself--managing to break the man's hold but he quickly renewed it.
"Watch out--he has a gun!" cried someone.
Suddenly someone hit him in the face. The gun flew out of his hand and Jesh fell to the ground with the first man on top of him.
"Thrall," Jesh heard someone mutter.
"Get the captain," said someone else.
Jesh realized his mistake. He was still wearing the black robes that showed him as a criminal and he was walking the square alone--with no master--carrying a gun.
They pulled him to his feet. "Where were you going, thief?" asked a tall bearded man, the one who had first tackled him. "Stealing this, were you?" he asked, holding up the pistol.
"No," said Jesh. "I wasn't...I was merely--"
"What are you doing out here alone?"
"He's on the run," said a short, fat man from another stand--a butcher.
"No!" said Jesh, his heart beat a little faster, thinking of his oath to Risser. He'd narrowly escape his last mistake. Would the Heir use this against him?
"That's the Skyman," said a boy, about eleven years of age. He smiled in awe.
That brought a hush.
"Tie him up!" said someone. "Before he gets away!"
Someone grabbed a rope and they set about tying Jesh's hands. "I'm here with Lujen, the Hasson Arbitrator. He's in the marketplace somewhere. Ask him. I'm not on the run," insisted Jesh. They had to listen. He didn't want this report going back to Risser.
The people discussed this among themselves, looking somewhat frightened as to what to do.
"Take him to the jail," said someone.
Vainly Jesh searched the thick, boisterous crowd for Lujen. More and more people came to gape at him--the Skyman. Finally, Lujen pressed his way into the group.
"What is going on?" demanded Lujen.
"This man was caught stealing a pistol," said the thin man. At this Lujen looked surprised. The crowd withdrew a little so he could make his way over to Jesh.
"Is this true?" he asked.
"No," said Jesh. "I wasn't. I was looking for you--to show it to you."
"He left the table and had it in his hand," said the man.
"Why are you interested in a gun?" asked Lujen.
"I..." Looking at the crowd, Jesh hesitated. So many people and all he had were suspicions. On top of it, Risser had put him under oath not to speak of the Prent. This would certainly be a breach of that.
"I think you'd better answer that," said Lujen. His voice was stern.
"I can't," Jesh said at last.
"Arrest him!" someone shouted.
"There are laws, Jesh, and you are violating them," said Lujen.
"I'm under an oath to Lord Risser'toranth," said Jesh. "I can only speak to him or Lady Tirethdarra about this."
Lujen stared at him a moment and Jesh hoped he understood his meaning. Lujen looked at the pistol, thoughtfully. At that moment the Captain of the guard arrived.
"Arbitrator Lujen," said the Captain. "What's all this?"
Quietly they conferred together for a few moments. Jesh looked about nervously, feeling like quite a spectacle in his black tunic. He should have been more careful.
Finally the Captain nodded. "All right," he said to Lujen. "Break it up," shouted the Captain. "It was all a misunderstanding. Everything's in hand. Go on," he told the crowd.
Lujen came over and untied Jesh. "Can't let you out of my sight for five minutes without that you get into trouble," muttered Lujen, shaking his head, his thick eyebrows looking particularly angry. "Thank you," Lujen said to the Captain, who went off to talk to the owner of the gun.
"I'm sorry," said Jesh. "I wasn't thinking."
Lujen held up the gun. "So, tell me then, what about this gun?"
Jesh hesitated. Technically he should only tell Risser or Tireth but Lujen had been in on their discussion of Prenth and he had spoken of other things to him since then. "I think it was made on Prent," he said quietly, so no one else could hear.
Lujen stared at him. "Why?"
"Just a suspicion. Maybe they want to start a war. But if the Prenth are interfering with us, then they've broken interstellar law. We could catch them on this and it would stop the initiative Prenth proposed to make Kinthaldith their territory. We could stall them at least."
Lujen considered this a moment, then turned and went back into the crowd toward the gun table. "Wait here," Lujen said sternly. "And after this, you stick with me."
People stared at Jesh and he ignored them. Women stood a ways off, whispering and laughing at him. Children pointed at him.
Finally Lujen came back with a small wooden box. He smiled grimly. "A present for you," he said, opening the box to show the gun. "I bought it. That should calm them down about this. And it will give us a chance to study it."
"Thank you, Lujen." Jesh took a deep breath, relaxing a little.
"Next time be more careful," muttered Lujen, putting the gun in his own satchel. He led Jesh away from the gun table. "The penalties for stealing can be serious and we don't need to give Lord Risser'toranth another opportunity to torment you."
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