Wandering Spark - Part 4
Father was not at home. Sisters were not home as well. It must be the mother took them on the field. Inside the squat stone building was damp, except that there was no dripping from the ceiling, and thanks the Emperor for this!
Firstly Varan found some dried seaweed in the cache (the last supplies before the start of the season!) and built a fire in the hearth. Raw wood hissed.
...The rainbow glow. The same, just a little bit dimmer glowing comes from large cash banknotes. Royal magicians put a stamp on money, which no one on earth and on the seas can forge.
Varan has heard many times from his father, and from the rafters, and from the merchants - the Empire does not stand on the swords and soldiers, not on the wings of the flying royal guard, not on the will of gray underground magicians, but on the imperial money. Money that does not burn in the fire and does not sink in the water. This kind of money is trusted both by thugs and Gorni...
There, in the dungeons of the imperial capital, the gray magicians sit at a long table, and their tails lie curled around the carved armchairs. They say that once in seven years a magician drops his tail, just like a lizard, and then he can briefly come to the surface, show himself to the people, come on the visit to the Emperor... And the tail is then boiled in a bronze cauldron. Alchemists cook a potion that prolongs life for seven years, exactly seven, not a second less...
So, a chill stranger not so long ago descended into the dungeons of magicians... Or was he given the ready credentials? Who is he in this case? And why he travels in lower lands?
"Please, have a seat, Gorni," muttered Varan, pretending that he was very busy with the hearth.
The guest did not respond. Varan turned around. Gorni was walking in the middle of the room, looking at it with a surprised disdain. Seat? – Varan could read in his glance. Where? Moldy walls, a damp stone bench along the wall, a pile of salt in the corner, a portrait of the Emperor - or rather, a dark board with the outline of a human head, and below it is written that it is His Imper Maj (the inscription was as old as the portrait itself, and no one read to the end no one could).
Varan stared into the fire. He did not want to speak and did not have what say. For the sake of this official and authorized jerk, his father will launch a screw with a half load, which means that he will lose two days of trading before the season. Highland people cry "water, give more water, reservoirs are incomplete!" town headman cries "tax, give money, the screw belongs to the community, and the water belongs to the Emperor, like everything that comes from the sky ..." Kids will eat only fish and beg for a bit of sea kale, but the season will begin, and they will forget about complaints. During the season, no one is sick, no one is whining, during the season young people even kiss and fell in love rarely. A season is for work...
"And on the Axis Nose," said the Gorni behind him, "a fire kindling is always offered to the guest."
"Why?" Varan asked simply not to seem impudent.
"You do not know?" The guest was genuinely surprised. And then he immediately realized to whom he is now talking. "Ah-ah-ah..."
We are dumb folk for him, Varan thought. We ear raw fish, we wash ourselves with spittle and clean ourselves with a sleeve. Provincials. Savages.
"On the Axis Nose," said the Gorni after a pause, "there are many traditions from the mainland ... And on the mainland, we still believe that same vagabond - Stove heater ... He also calls himself Wandering spark. Many believe that every house where makes fire... do you know what happens? You do not know... Give me some space."
Simply pushing Varan away, the guest crouched near, stretching out his hands to the fire:
"Wow... How do you dry your clothes here?"
"It doesn’t get wet," muttered Varan. Gorni touched the sleeve of Varan’s jacket:
"Of course, I see," said Gorni with irony. "What you have to eat? How did the headman say? Hot drink, dry clothes..."
"The headman said, so let him give it himself!" Varan cried out and immediately regretted his incontinence. He added in with a more calm tone: "There are no spare clothes. There's nothing. Season on the nose. All wasted. I have two little sisters. Our field is small. There is a salted fish and I can boil water. This is all."
"Give me water," he demanded eagerly. "Give me the fish. Do you have bread?"
"Reps"
"Give reps. And one more thing... do you have blankets? Just a dry blanket of wool..."
And, without waiting for Varan to give his consent, he began to undress. With pleasure, he threw down a thin cloak to the floor, took off his wet jacket, snorted, pulled off a broad shirt... Varan thought that this striping was ended, but the Gorni without much embarrassment took off his pants and untied the underpants, and Varan, hiding eyes, quickly handed him a woven blanket.
"What is with you? Gorni only now noticed a dark red blush on Varan's face. "Oh... I'm sorry if I offended you, you know... I thought I can melt in these clothes," he nodded, with disgust on a bundle of expensive clothing on the floor. "Give me boiled water faster or I'll catch a real cold, the lord, I think, will not be happy..."
I, what, will be responsible for your cold? - Varan thought sadly.
"Maybe you can put something on the bench?" asked the guest.
"What?"
"Put something... Fur or another blanket. And it's cold, you know, it's so hard to sit..."
But who called you, Varan creaked his teeth. He should have stayed with the headman, his house is dry... The whole village pays for this dryness, and my father too...
"So it is interesting to you? About a vagabond that lights fireplaces? Should I tell?"
"You have roads to wonder," muttered Varan. "And we, our lord Gorni, do not have any roads. We can travel by sea, or upwards... We do not have any vagabonds."
"You're tough." The guest sat down at last, but not on the bench, but on his own trunk. "When will you raise me? Do you remember what the elder said?"
The door opened. Lisa, the youngest, ran out immediately to the middle of the room - and froze, staring at the long-haired Gorni, up to the neck wrapped in a blanket.
"Wha…"
"Where's mother?" Varan asked strictly.
"In the field," whispered Lisa. "She puts the net with our aunts. She said to take a fastener for the anchor, and a second knife, and..."
"Where is Iris?"
"Helps mother"
"Where is the father?"
"He twirls the spring... It is half twisted, he told you to throw everything and go to help him, because..."
"Go tell father," muttered Varan with a heavy heart, "to go home. Tell him, we have guests. Tell that he must go quickly."
