JESSAN - A TALE OF WIZARDRY Chapter 11
Copyright 2006 Trewin Greenaway All Rights Reserved
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I hope to post a new chapter every Saturday. If you're enjoying the story, do let me know!
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Chapter 11
ONNA'S SMILING WELCOME soon made my heart easier. "I'm here by myself," she said, "concocting a potion for what I don't know. As always, Grysta was as long in instruction as she was short in explanation."
"Let me wash the dust from myself," I said, "and I'll be glad to help you."
I cleaned up and went to the work table and examined the various items that Onna had spread out upon a clean cloth. There were one or two I had not seen before, but I recognized them from their description in Alfrund's enkiridion. Even if had not known their names, I would have known their purpose from smelling and tasting them, in conjunction with the others.
"Hmm," I said. "Silverrot, millengrass, vitrion, pallfew, waterfrond, and ...," I picked up a tiny vial, removed the glass stopper, and sniffed. "Tincture of hythmalast! Grysta must mean to treat something serious, if she calls for something so rare and costly. Did she also have you make a scorb to burn in all the rooms?"
Onna looked at me in astonishment, her mouth open. "Yes," she said. "First thing of all. It's already been compounded and sent off with a boy."
"Some sailor has brought the black pox with him to a wayhouse down by the docks," I said. "I'll wager there's a bonfire of mattresses and clothing right now. And this will be going to the illhaven, where those who were stricken have been taken. If she didn't tell you all this, she must have been in too much of a hurry."
Onna shook her head but said nothing. We worked silently, grinding the ingredients separately and then sifting them carefully together. A fire was already burning under a small, three-legged cauldron and within it a small amount of water seethed. Together we lifted the heavy onyx mortar and poured in its contents, letting it gently simmer together until it produced a thick, livid tea.
As we worked, the boy returned, ready for his second delivery. Onna bade him sit and gave him a cake. We lifted the cauldron from the heat and strained its contents through a coarse muslin cloth into a large flask. I took the ends of the cloth and twisted them together tightly, to extract every bit of the liquor that I could. Onna picked up the flask gingerly, for its contents were still quite hot, and wrapped it up carefully in a length of linen and bound it tightly with twine.
"Drop this," she said to the boy as she handed it over, "and Grysta will nail your hide to the wall there and, when it's dried, grind it into powder and use it in potions." The boy's eyes widened as he looked to the spot where she pointed. He then giggled nervously and scuttled out the door.
"She probably would, too," Onna said, with a sigh, and sank down on a stool. I selected some calmatives from among the herbs and brewed us each a cup of tea. As it steeped before us, she went on, "You have already far outstripped me in my studies. I know you're quick, but it's also because you're Alfrund's twerë, and so he gives you full access to his enkiridion."
I glanced over to where Grysta's enkiridion sat on its stand at the end of the work table. Onna saw me do so and said, "Don't think I haven't thought of it often enough. But I'm not made to keep a lie, let alone tell one, and if I were caught I could never live down the disgrace."
"No," I agreed. "It would be too hard to keep apart what you'd been taught and what you'd found out on your own. Grysta would spot such things at once."
A thought came into my head but before I could broach it, we heard the sound of the door latch click, and Alfrund came into the room. He set a pitcher of ale down on the table and put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them.
"Fendal and his apprentices are celebrating the birthday of one of their number, which means drinking a lot of ale, singing a lot of songs, and wrestling each other for silly prizes. So I hoped I could find some dinner here and a quiet place to sleep."
"For supper, we have only cold pigeon pie," Onna said. "But I imagine you'll find that your bed is warm enough," kicking me under the table as she did so. This caused me to blush furiously, and to feel totally foolish for doing so, especially because I gave her the extra pleasure of seeing her jape's success.
She might also have said, although I was glad she didn't, that Alfrund might not find his bed all that quiet, either. And, indeed, it wasn't, not for some time. But eventually we settled in together, and faces close to each other, whispered for a bit before sleeping.
"Riddle me this," Alfrund said. "I come here and find you in a nightgown. I know I didn't provide you with one - it would have been a total waste of cloth and tailoring. Is it one of Grysta's? Did something happen to your shirt? Or are you trying to pass for an old man, with your hem below your knees?"
I told him what had passed this day, remembering as well that I would now need a new shirt.
"Don't worry about that," Alfrund said. "You can have a spare one of mine." He was silent as he mulled over what I had told him. Then he spoke again, putting his finger exactly on what was troubling me the most about the day. "That Orien is a prickly fellow. I'm glad he's not my teacher."
Instead of replying, I just snuggled even closer to Alfrund. I kissed him and said, "Are you glad to have me as your student?"
I could feel his smile in the dark. "How could I not be? I give you my enkiridion and a few days later you're taking in patients. I'm glad you had sufficient humility at least not to charge for your services. I imagine by now Orien's feet have swollen to the size of melons."
I punched him gently. "You wish," I said, "although if I'd known what was in store for me I'd have dug out a potion to do just that, or worse."
"Perhaps something that would have shrunk his staff," Alfrund said. "As I remember, it's rather a long one."
"Well, longer than yours anyway," I said. And when he punched me back, added in an injured tone, "Well it is, and done all over with metal tracery, which yours certainly isn't."
"No wonder wizards have no lovers," Alfrund said, adding, "But seriously, did he explain everything?"
I groaned. "That I'm Jessan, one of the Nithaial?" I answered. "Honestly, I much preferred my old title, Jessan, Village Slut."
Alfrund caressed my chest. "Foolish boy. As we've just seen, the two occupations aren't exactly incompatible. In any case, you haven't turned out to be all that successful at the former. Two conquests in all - Faryn and me - that won't get you much of a reputation."
I giggled. "That's because I forget and kept wearing that undergarment you gave me. But now it, too, is all thread and dust."
"So, you switched to a nightshirt," Alfrund said. "Lovers will be trailing after you through the streets."
I snorted, and said, "As if I'm ever allowed to set foot on them."
"That will change tomorrow, sweet boy," Alfrund replied. "When first we met I promised you some new and finer clothing, and I think it's time to do so. Tomorrow we'll go together and do some quiet shopping. With care, we will be back before Orien appears at our doorstep wanting another foot kneading."
"He'd better not," I said drowsily, already drifting off to sleep. But then I remembered my desire to walk with Alfrund in the garden at Sondaram, and lifted my head out of his armpit to tell him about it. But as I did so, I realized he was already lost in dreams. It could wait. With a contented sigh, I snuggled closer and followed him there.
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The following morning, I woke to find that Alfrund had laid out a spare shirt and, I noticed, another pair of short pants beside it. I pulled them on and went down to join him and Onna at breakfast. We shared a large bowl of hot porridge, which still to me seemed - the portion, the hotness - a great luxury.
Then Alfrund and I made our way into the heart of Gedd, to the shops, the bustling open market, the many taverns, shrines, bakeshops, craftsmen, and the like. Soon we were buried in the throng that bustled here and there, many wearing the garb of their trade or profession.
There were also soldiers there in plenty, but they were mostly standing in small groups, talking among themselves. Alfrund had already pointed out that they had only the vaguest idea of what I looked like, even if they had been ordered to watch for me. One lad among hundreds, that was all I was. I also realized with a smile that with the reappearance of Sondaram, what they sought now was a nascent Nithaial. He, no doubt, wore robes of viridian and a circle of fire burned fiercely above his head.
Indeed, the town was abuzz with that news and from the conversations we overheard, I gathered that the townsfolk were evenly divided between those who saw this as a sign of hope and those said it foreshadowed the advent of great troubles. No doubt they were both right. I recollected Orien's frowning face and wondered if any here considered that their fate would contain as much of the one as the other.
Alfrund took my arm and drew me into a hosier's shop, where my legs were measured for leggings, both in a deep viridian weave, for dress, and in supple doeskin, for travel. We then went to a tailor for some britches, to wear above the leggings, and to a bootmaker, for boots to tuck them into. The tailor was also to make me some different shirts, of finer stuff than what I had ever worn before, and shorter, since they, too, would be tucked into the britches, not worn hanging over them.
Finally, we went to a leathersmith, for Alfrund wanted to purchase me a belt, as gift for my soon-to-happen Sixteenth Day, when I assumed the responsibilities of a man. For most, the only outward change in dress on that day was the donning of a belt, which boys were not permitted to wear.
I hesitated for some time, hovering between this possibility and that, finally accepting the one Alfrund chose for me, which was composed of many thin leather strands, deftly woven together. The belt buckle would be obtained elsewhere, and would be a surprise.
As Alfrund and the leathersmith bargained for the price, I began to finger a handsome bleached leather vest, lined with silken fabric and ornamented with stitching in the dark red color called dragon's blood. The leathersmith paused in his haggling and said, "You have a fine eye. I made that for a merchant's son who died of the pox before it could be delivered. If it fits, you can have it for a song, since some would think it ill-omened, innocent though it is."
I couldn't help but slip it on, even while saying, "It's both beyond our means and beyond my station."
The leathersmith raised his eyebrows. "As the apprentice of a master herbalist?" And to Alfrund, he added, "I can smell your trade upon your clothing, sir, though you don't wear your robe."
Then to both of us, he said, "This is not mere fancy dress. I've worked several pockets into it, both inside and out, both visible and hidden. It can hold much without any ugly bulging: well hidden, you might say..., should that ever prove necessary."
At this, the spark caught and I knew that the "merchant" the leathersmith had mentioned was in truth a smuggler, who had no doubt been caught before he was able to claim it. If it had been for his son, it was out of the hope that soldiers might not search the boy as thoroughly.
The leathersmith whispered a price in Alfrund's ear, and either because he thought it looked good on me or just to see my eyes sparkling, he accepted. The leathersmith showed me the hidden pockets, which were very cleverly done, and I wore it proudly out of the shop.
"You're a generous master, Alfrund," I said. "Thank you."
"And you are very welcome, comely boy. It pleases me that I can afford such things that set your beauty off."
I found myself blushing furiously again. Alfrund laughed and kissed me, then reached into his purse and brought out several coins, both silver and copper.
"Here," he said. "I just remembered that I've an errand to run that I'd better do alone. Go buy yourself something that catches your eye. Then wait for me at the inn across the way. It's called the Ship Master's Rest, and it's a quiet and safe place, as I know well. We will then go home together." And so we embraced and parted.
I slipped the coins into my pocket. There was something I had wanted to buy, but without money hadn't been able to imagine how I could. Fortune was smiling on my plan, and that would have made me happy, were I not so happy already. It took me some time to find the shop, for it was probably the only one in all of Gedd, a stationer and a papersmith.
I told the boy at the counter that I was seeking a plain bound book with empty pages. He was about my age and had large brown eyes, tousled black hair, and pale smooth skin. I felt a flutter in my heart, or maybe somewhere else, as I spoke to him.
"I haven't seen you before," he said, "and I thought I knew every boy in Gedd who has his letters. There aren't many. My name's Telo."
"Mine's Jessan," I answered. "And you're right. I recently came over the mountains with my master, who's an herbalist. But how did you know I have my letters? Sometimes I'm not so sure myself."
Telo smiled. "Because I saw you reading the titles of the few typeface books I've encouraged my father to buy - from the even fewer traders who deign to carry them."
I picked up one and opened it, not knowing what such a thing might be. But I saw at once that the print, so small and perfect, had been made by no hand, but by some ingenious device.
"That is quite amazing," I said. "And there's a market for such in Gedd?"
"You sound like my father," Telo answered. "Of course not. Or, rather, I'm the market, although I can't afford to actually purchase any. It's my great desire to become a maker of such books, although how I cannot imagine. But at least now I can hold one and caress it."
He sighed and turned his back. "A book of blank pages. We have many such. Small or large, leather bound or wood and cloth?"
"Small but thickish," I answered. "Something easy to fit in a girl's hand."
Telo turned his head and glanced at me. "Well, I've misread you after all."
"No," I answered. "You're right in that, too. This girl is but a friend." We smiled at each other.
"This should be perfect," he said, selecting a small volume bound in a fabric with a pattern of twining leaves.
"More so even than you can imagine," I answered. I pulled out my handful of coins.
"Have I enough to purchase this and also one of these typeface books, as well?"
"Yes, you have, and a little more," he answered, scanning my collection. "Which one would you like?"
"You select one," I answered, "since I know nothing of such things."
Telo went through them one by one, and finally selected a slim one with leather binding, its title impressed in gold leaf. "This one," he said, "for not only is it a pleasure to hold and look at, but tells tales that are also enjoyable to read." He handed it to me and took the proper coins from my hand.
I put the rest of the coins back in my pocket and then offered the book to him. "This is yours," I said, "for the forfeit of a kiss."
His face suddenly lit up with joy. "A kiss you would've had anyway, for I was just working up the nerve to ask for it. But this...." He shook his head and tears came into his eyes.
He then seized my hand and drew me around the counter. "My father's at work in the shop above our heads," he said, "and we have at most two or three customers a day." He led me past the curtain that concealed it into the back of the shop, a drab and dusty place.
Telo seized my head with both hands and kissed me deeply. He then took my hands and guided them under his shirt, where I encountered no undergarment. I clutched at the warm softness of his buttocks and pulled him toward me, our kissing never stopping. His hands had found my underclothing, but he simply tugged at the drawstring and let them fall around my legs. He took hold of my sex, which was already erect and began to stroke it.
I pulled my face away from his. "Don't!" I said. "It will make a terrible mess."
He laughed. "Well, you are an innocent. There's a simple solution to that." And he went down on his knees and took me in his mouth. I was amazed. Why hadn't Alfrund taught me this? How good it felt. My body shivered all over when he began to also gently stroke the purse which hung beneath. It took but a moment more for me to find release. Telo swallowed all that came.
"What does it taste like?" I asked.
He stood up and said, "There's an easy way to find out," and kissed me with an open mouth.
"Good enough to want some more," I said, once he had stopped.
"Then you must help yourself," Telo answered, "and you'll find I'm quite generous with it."
His words strangely excited me and, stepping out of my undergarment, I knelt down and examined him. His staff was delicate, even when swollen, with a narrow, tapered head. From its opening, some liquid already oozed, and, tentatively, I licked it up. Telo's sex quivered and he gave a little moan.
Encouraged, I took it in my mouth. I hadn't really been able to properly watch what he had done with mine, the sensations were too strong. But my instinct was to treat it gently but hotly, licking at the head and then moving it in my mouth, pressing it against my tongue. Telo put his hands upon my head to guide me and, moaning all the while, moved his hips back and forth.
He was, I took note, much more active than I'd been. What I had merely taken, he was actively helping himself. And so it was very soon that I felt a pumping within his purse and his liquid pulsate into my mouth.
I had not expected so much, and almost panicked before I realized I had only to swallow, and swallow again. Even as I did his tool went limp in my mouth. I gave it a final suck, caressed everything with my tongue, and somewhat dizzily got back to my feet. I looked at Telo. His face was aglow and his eyes were glazed. He seemed to be struggling to bring himself back to consciousness.
"Telo!" I whispered. "Are you all right?"
"Much more than that!" he answered, his speech slightly slurred. "I'm floating on air."
Indeed, he seemed half drunk. Clearly, I had lots more to learn about this sort of osculation.
"I've a suspicion," I said, "that if you ever learn this imprinting, you'll make a book with some fine tales in it."
He laughed. "I don't do this with every customer," he answered, giving me another kiss, "just with most."
We went back into the front of the shop. He wrapped the book of blank pages I had bought in a piece of paper and handed it to me. "Fare thee well, Jessan. I hope to sell you many such."
"Telo," I said, stroking his face. "Fare thee well, also. You have taught me better than any schoolmaster the advantages of pursuing my reading." We smiled again at each other and I turned to leave. But just as my hand fell on the latch, Telo called me back. He was emerging from the back of the shop.
"Don't forget this," he said, extending my undergarment, which I had left where it had fallen on the floor, "although I can't imagine why you bother with it."
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