The Chronicles of Hvad Ch. 13

They taught me a great deal about Izumyr, most of it not strictly military. The weather, trade, local rivalries and serious feuds ... and of course their Duke's health. They spoke freely about his heir, too. Barsam was considered able, and talented. But opinions were mixed about his plan to invade Hvad.

It came as something of a revelation to me that I liked most of these people. Ingram and Lir were decent enough, too, although I deplored their excessive deference to those 'above' them. I already knew that I didn't like all Hvadi; it shouldn't have surprised me to discover that I didn't hate all Izumyrians. But then, I wasn't planning to invade their country.

Thanks to Barsam, I had more than enough money to buy rounds.

But the dominant feature of the Marga was its hostess, Dulo. Everyone deferred to her. I watched her wok, and tried to understand the source of her power. She moved economically, with few wasted motions. Her shirtsleeves were rolled up, and she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She also had an excellent memory for names and faces. Dulo remembered a merchant who had stayed at the inn two years earlier; the man was utterly amazed when she called him by name only a moment after he had walked in.

Dulo had time for all of her patrons. She smiled at all of the men, but I wouldn't have called it flirting. She treated them all the same.

I had seen prettier women. Irija and Siret were more beautiful than Dulo, by far. Nanaidh and Tsoline would have turned more heads. Noyemi was utterly different. She was feminine, and delicate, where Dulo was sturdy, and earthy.

The only comparison even remotely close was ... Payl. It didn't make sense to measure the Shining One, a warrior woman, against an innkeeper. But when I watched Dulo, hands on her hips, surveying the crowded room at dinner time, I saw it. She dominated this group, this environment, to the same degree and in the same manner that Payl ruled her band of warriors: through force of character, and will power.

- "How do you like Lacine, so far?" she asked me.

- "It is very big. You have so many people. But I cannot say more, because I have not been inside the walls."

- "You haven't? Why not?"

- "Hvadi are not allowed past the gates. We must stay outside."

Dulo frowned. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry. It's ... not very hospitable."

- "I like your friends, though." I said, indicating the other customers. "They are very friendly."

- "That just shows you have low standards." she replied, with a grin. "So Lacine is big, compared to your towns?"

- "We have only one. I thought, before, that it was crowded. Too big. But it is no city, like this."

- "You think Lacine is a city? It's just a provincial town. The cities are down south. Isn't that so, Colas?" She named the merchant that she had recognized, drawing him into our conversation.

- "Ah, yup."

- "You've been to the capital, haven't you?" said Dulo. "How many people live there, Colas?"

- "Thirty thousand - give or take a few."

My jaw dropped. Thirty thousand? I didn't know if we had so many people in all of Hvad.

- "There you go." she said. "Now, that's a city."

- "In the Eastern Empire", said another patron, "they say that the City of Kings is home to 300,000 souls."

- "Stars above - you can't be serious!"

- "I call bullshit!" said another man.

As the discussion rippled around the room, drawing even more people in, I watched Dulo walk away. How did she do it?

That was when I noticed that there were others - several others - who followed her with their eyes, too. The expression on their faces came as a surprise to me. It wasn't lust, or even desire. It looked more like ... longing.

Two nights later, I asked Rasiph, one of the old-timers, about Dulo.

- "What d'ye want t'know?"

- "Is she married?"

- "Why? You int'rested?" he cackled, showing me all four of his teeth.

- "No." I said. "Not me. But many men here seem to be."

Rasiph didn't even have to look around. He knew exactly what I was referring to.

- "Oh, that!" he said, so loudly that I shushed him. "Well, I dunno if it's my place to tell ye ..."

- "What's not your place, Rasiph?" asked Dulo. She was behind us.

- "Oh, just that ... Preet here was wondrin' if you was married."

She looked me in the eye. "Why? You interested?"

Dulo and Rasiph shared a laugh, while I blushed crimson. I didn't understand the joke, but I don't think that it was entirely at my expense.

I had much to think about, that night. We knew so very little about Izumyr, in Yeseriya, except that it lay across the river from Adarion - and that it was big. Even then, I'd had no idea, until I saw Lacine, just how big it was, and how many people there were. Perhaps people in Adarion, or merchants and innkeepers in Hvad town were better informed.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, then, that Izumyrians knew next to nothing about Hvad. They considered us savages, and butchered the pronunciation of our names.

Borna needed to learn these things. We had to begin thinking as Hvadi, rather than as Yeseriyans.

***

The very next night, three Izumyrian soldiers came into the Marga for the first time. Dulo was friendly, as she was with everyone. One of the soldiers tried to impress her with his wit. She put him down, firmly, without a fuss.

One of his friends, though, tried a different approach. When Dulo reached for an empty mug on their table, he grabbed her by the wrist. She tried to pull it back, but he had the leverage, as well as a huge advantage in size and strength.

The soldier didn't seem to notice that the entire tavern had fallen silent.

- "Cm'on." he said. "You n' me. What d'you say?"

- "I don't think so." said Dulo. "Let go of my arm, please."

- "What's the matter? I can pay."

- "I'm not a whore. I can tell you where to find some, if you want. But I think you should leave my inn."

- "What if I don't want to?' asked the soldier.

I'd heard enough. I stood up. My table was fifteen feet away, but I was in the big lout's line of sight.

- "You were asked to leave." I said.

- "Who's gonna make me? You?"

There was a squeal of wood on wood all over the room as every single man present rose to his feet. Even old Rasiph was standing. Not all of us were armed, but there were enough weapons to catch the other two soldiers' attention.

- "Hey - it's not worth it. Come on." they said to their idiot friend. He grumbled, and pretended that he was ready to stay and fight it out - but the very first thing he did was release Dulo's wrist. He hesitated a little more, as if he was seriously considering taking on the entire room.

The other two dropped a few coins on the table. Then they left, with all of our eyes on them the whole time.

When they were out the door, Dulo turned to face us.

- "Thank you." she said. "This round's on me."

*****

[1] An Izumyrian lance was not only a weapon. It also described a basic fighting unit, consisting of a heavily armoured leader, three or four men-at-arms, and the leader's personal attendant - often a younger blood relative. Thus, a lance meant five or six horsemen.

[2] Izumyrians called me 'Preet'. A Hvadi would pronounce it 'Pree-it' (while rolling the 'r').