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Isle of Woman (Geodyssey) Page 23


  The girls tittered. Doe smiled. She had a good smile, and became prettier behind it.

  “Yes,” Blaze said. “If they are good men.” The girls tittered again.

  “As it happens, we have several houses free,” Crockson said. “We will give you two, together, for your family and your son’s family. When your daughters marry, they will go to the houses of their husbands, leaving you less crowded.”

  This seemed too easy, but Blaze wasn’t sure how to question it. Seed did, however, and she spoke, with her affected accent. She addressed Blaze. “My father, why do they have empty chambers?” The matter had to be important, or she would not have risked betraying her identity.

  “I don’t know, Shrew.” He turned to Crockson. “Don’t families live in those houses?”

  The man scowled, evidently uncomfortable with the question. “There was an illness. It is gone now.”

  “The swamp plague!” Bunny said, alarmed.

  Crockson shook his head. “It is gone. Some died, some left, some got better. So we have fewer people, and room for some more. The illness does not come often.”

  Nevertheless, it was apparent that there was a risk here. The mountaineers seldom got the swamp fever—but they might get it if they became city folk. Blaze wished they had known about this before committing themselves.

  “We will take those houses,” he said. This was after all much easier than arranging to build new ones.

  “Today you move in,” Crockson agreed. “Tomorrow you and your son show your skills. If you are not good, we will require you to move out.”

  That was reasonable, and Blaze was reassured. No one gave anything for nothing.

  Blaze followed Crockson up the ladder. When Blaze reached the roof, he was amazed again. It was a different world, a patchwork of squares of baked mud, each one higher or lower than its neighbors. Some were so much higher that they had ladders. In other sections several squares rose in formations like giant steps. Many squares had dark holes in them, with the ends of ladders poking out. He realized that every square was the roof of a chamber-house, just as Seed had said. But it was a wild experience, seeing it directly.

  Bunny and the girls followed him. The girls exclaimed in awe as they came to stand on the immense roof of the city. Then Stone came, carrying Tree. Seed was last; she took her cue from the girls, murmuring in awe. It was a pretense she would not have to maintain long, because all of them would soon be accustomed to this peculiar terrain.

  They walked across the city, which gradually rose, so that they had to use another ladder every so often. Blaze could not count the squares; they were everywhere. Then they reached a high ridge of roofs and looked out over a lower part of the city. It was so large as to defy Blaze’s imagination. His entire tribe could have lived in only a small part of it, and all the other tribes he had encountered or even heard about would hardly have filled up the rest of it. If he reckoned the possible numbers by tens, spreading the fingers of both hands, he would have to keep adding up tens for too long a time to keep track of. He felt slightly dizzy just trying to grasp the number.

  Every so often there was a gap in the roofs, seeming like a pit, several houses wide. They skirted one of these, and the smell that rose from it reminded him of what Seed had said about refuse: that was indeed where the pots were dumped. In fact there were people doing it. There was considerable traffic across the roofs, as people emerged from their holes and walked across to other holes. Blaze thought of mice in a field, scooting from one burrow to another.

  Somewhere in the center of the city Crockson stopped. He bent to lift a wooden panel out of the way, revealing the hole beneath. “Here is one house,” he said. He stepped to the adjacent square. “Here is the other. I will send a child to show you how they are used.”

  “I know how to use a house,” Bunny muttered.

  “We do not follow mountain ways,” Crockson said in a superior manner. “You must learn our ways.”

  They climbed down the ladder into the first chamber. It was large enough for them all to stand in. The floor was baked mud, and on several slightly different levels. The lowest panel was covered by rushes laid flat. There were no windows; only the entrance hole admitted light. One square set in the floor had ashes: this was a hearth. There was a hole in one wall just large enough for a person to crawl through on hands and knees, leading to a smaller chamber. That was all. Overall, it was dark and dank, not at all appealing to mountain folk.

  Seed looked up to be sure no one from the city was close. “I can show you everything,” she murmured. “But they will wonder, if you seem to know it already. The children will tell you quickly and run elsewhere before you really understand, but after that I will clarify what they don’t. This isn’t the best house, but it’s clean. It will do.”

  Soon the child appeared. “Crock says you’re mountain people,” a boy about Mouse’s age said brightly, scrambling down the ladder so rapidly that it seemed for a moment that he was falling. He landed on the floor. “That’s the man’s place,” he said, pointing to the highest panel in the corner. “That’s the woman’s place next to it, lower. That’s the children’s place.” He pointed to the panel touching the other quarter of the man’s panel. “There’s your hearth and oven. The mats are in the storeroom, there.” He pointed to the hole. “There’s some wood for the hearth, too, but you’ll need to get more when it’s gone. There’s a water jar and a poop pot; don’t get them mixed up.” He giggled as he shot back up the ladder.

  “That was it?” Blaze asked, bemused.

  “That was it,” Seed agreed. “Now I can show you the rest. Crockson won’t know that the boy was so fast.” She went to the storeroom hole, reached in, and pulled out a woven mat. “Put this on the man’s floor panel. Of course you don’t have to sleep alone, my father.” Her eyes turned away as she smiled fleetingly. Blaze felt the familiar thrill of the implication that went beyond the mild humor. “You may let my mother on it if you choose. But that panel is the man’s, in every house, and always kept clear for him. It would be a disgrace if a visitor came and a woman or child was sitting on it.”

  Blaze took the mat and laid it on his corner. It would do. Seed meanwhile hauled out a second mat for the woman’s panel, and a third for the children’s. Blaze marveled at the number of good mats stored here, but realized that they had belonged to the prior family, and there had been no point in taking them away. Why steal the things of dead folk? It was at best an annoyance to the spirits of those dead.

  “Oh, he didn’t tell us where to go for food,” Seed said. “Well, we’ll just pretend he did. I’ll show you, as soon as we’re settled here.”

  “Don’t we go out into the field to forage?” Doe asked.

  “No, the city is more organized than that. Some women go out to cultivate the crops, and some carry in the food, and then others trade for it each day. You’ll see.”

  They set up the chamber, then went to the next to set it up for Stone and Seed and Tree. It was almost identical. “I hope that not all city folk are as similar to each other as these chambers are,” Blaze remarked.

  “Oh, no, they are all kinds,” Seed said. Then she broached more serious matters. “I must go to see the Priestess Lea, to learn why she summoned me. And I would like to see my mother, I mean my natural mother, because—” She shrugged.

  “Oh, you must see her!” Bunny said immediately. “It will be such a relief to her!”

  “But I don't dare let anyone else know my identity,” Seed said. “Because—”

  Bunny turned to Blaze. “We must help her do these things secretly.”

  “We must meet with the priest and priestess anyway,” Seed said. “You must agree to honor the bull and leopardess. You don’t have to actually swear belief, but you must promise never to speak against the gods of the city. So if we go tomorrow as a family, I can make myself quietly known to Lea.”

  “Could she then tell your mother?” Bunny asked.

  “Yes!” Seed agreed gl
adly. “She can do it without arousing suspicion. Then my mother can arrange to see me by some coincidental encounter. I just want her to know I am well, and—” She broke off, her eyes tearing.

  Bunny put her arms around her. “Of course. You have been too long away from her.”

  In a moment Seed recovered her composure. “I must show you the trade market. We shall have to use one of Stone’s blades, but it should buy us food for several days. But they will cheat us, and if I protest, someone will know I have been here before.”

  Bunny had the answer. “Blaze will take three older girls there. They will exclaim foolishly among themselves. But he will heed the scattered gestures of only one.”

  “Three?” Doe asked.

  “You, Weasel and Shrew. When Shrew lifts her hand to her head, he will know the bargain is fair. The other two will gesture randomly.”

  It was a good device. After the first time, Blaze would know the approximate values of things, and would be able to bargain for himself.

  “The merchants reckon food value in terms of days of use,” Seed said. “They are very quick in their judgments. If you shop for a family of four, they can translate that into days of eating for that family. But it’s different for each type of food, and of course there are other systems for other types of things. It takes time to become a truly savvy shopper. I’m not good, but I can give you general values. There are standard amounts of each food that count as a day, so once you agreed on the days, the rest is simpler. Unless they try to cheat you that way, too, because you are new.”

  “I will not be new tomorrow,” Blaze said.

  He took the three to the roof, while Bunny, Stone, Tree and Mouse remained to finish getting the two chambers in order and start a fire in one hearth. They crossed the roofs toward another section of the city.

  Blaze paused. “How will we find our chambers again? I can not tell one from the other, and there are so many blank roofs.”

  “You will learn the address quickly enough,” Seed said. “But if you do get lost, look for the mark of the stamp.”

  “The mark?”

  She returned to the cell they had left. “See, here in the hard clay is the imprint of the seal of the former owner.” She pointed to a little design on the corner of the hole cover. “You will replace that with your own device, soon. But remember this one, for now. There will be no other exactly like it.”

  He nodded. But he would also do his best to learn the position of this chamber, so that he would not have to check several covers.

  The market was a much larger chamber, or series of chambers, with several access holes. The walls were lined with tables where assorted foods were set out. Blaze was amazed at the variety. There were fruits and vegetables he had never seen, and several kinds of grain, and sections of meat from a number of animals. There were even great jugs of white milk, each containing more than any goat could give.

  “Ah, you are new here,” the closest man behind a table said. “I have not seen your face before, and I certainly have not seen your daughters.”

  There was a three-way titter, and much waving of hands.

  “I just arrived with my family today,” Blaze said. “From the mountain country. There is a drought there.”

  “So we have heard. But we trade for things grown where there is no drought. What do you want, and what do you offer in trade?”

  “I want barley and peas for bread, and fruits. I have this.” He brought out one of Stone’s obsidian blade.

  The man’s eyes narrowed but his pupils widened as he squinted at the blade. “You can have several days’ supplies of food for that. How many are there in your family?”

  “Eight.”

  “You primitives are fecund! Still, that will be enough for two days’ worth of food.”

  From the corner of his eye Blade saw Seed’s hand settle at her waist. The other girls touched their heads and thighs, covering for the real signal.

  Waist level. That meant the offer was only half good enough. He would never have known, because the traders he encountered never gave so much. But of course they had to make advantageous deals at each end.

  “I have had some experience with traders who have passed our region,” Blaze said. “I think I might have done better with one of them.”

  “That may be a better blade than I thought,” the produce man said quickly. “I believe I can offer three days’ supply.”

  Seed’s hand found its way to her chest. Blaze was distracted for a moment by his glance at her breathing bosom, but quickly refocused on the bartering.

  “I think I will see what the next man offers,” Blaze said, glancing to the far end of the chamber where the meat man’s table was.

  The man pursed his lips. “You have had some experience! I will offer you four days, but no more.”

  Seed scratched her head. Blaze nodded. “That seems fair to me.”

  The man started setting out shares of barley and assorted nuts and fruits. The girls oohed and aahed at the strange kinds; they knew apples and acorns, but not some that must have come from far away. But amidst Seed’s exclamations was a gesture; her hand hovered near her breast again.

  “Perhaps conventions differ,” Blaze said. “When I traded at home, we got four apples where you have put three.”

  The merchant glanced at the table. “You are right; I miscounted.” He added another apple.

  In due course the transaction was completed. The girls and Blaze had cloth bags of produce, and the merchant had an excellent blade he would surely trade for more than he had given. But Blaze knew that Seed’s signals had enabled him to bargain with considerably more savvy than he could otherwise have managed.

  They found the way back without trouble, though dusk was closing, because Seed unobtrusively guided them. Bunny was right: the girl was extremely useful, apart from whatever else lay between them.

  Bunny was amazed when she saw the amount they brought. “All for one blade?”

  “Twice as much as I would have had, without advice,” Blaze said.

  “Every time the man made an offer, See—Shrew moved her hand,” Weasel said. “Then Father got more.”

  Bunny had a small fire burning on the hearth whose smoke rose smoothly up and out the hole above it while heating the chamber. She used it to make barley porridge from the last of their original store, because now they had new grain to replace it. They feasted on that and fresh apples. Then they took turns using the pot in the corner that wasn’t lighted by the hearth fire. They used the reed-covered section of the floor to urinate; the earth below it was porous. Blaze knew he was not the only one who found it awkward to perform such functions inside a house, but it was obviously more awkward for all of them to troop out over the roofs and climb a ladder down outside the city to reach the nearest natural ground. Again, Seed’s advice was invaluable; she had grown up here, and knew all the ways of the city. “They even bury people under their squares, when they die,” she remarked. “Then they plaster them over.”

  “I can wait,” Blaze said, not managing to laugh.

  Stone and Seed took Tree to their own house, while Blaze, Bunny and the girls settled in this one. The mats were comfortable enough when buttressed by goat hides, and in the dark it was almost possible to pretend that they remained in their old house with the tribe. Of course Bunny slept with him, while the three girls settled on their square.

  They had entered the city and settled in well enough, this first day. But tomorrow Blaze and Stone would have to prove their skills, and the family would have to see the priest and priestess. There was much yet to learn and do.

  In the morning they used the pot and mat again, each according to his need, and ate the leftover porridge. They coordinated with Stone and Seed, agreeing that Bunny would care for Tree between nursings so that Seed could quietly show the others where to go. Of course the boy had not told them this either, but they would pretend he had.

  But as they made ready to go out, the city manager arrived. “I
will take you to the professionals,” he said. “You two men. Then the men must meet the priest, and the women the priestess.”

  They did not argue. Blaze and Stone went with Crockson across the roofs. Now Blaze saw there were actually paths there, much as there were on ordinary terrain, leading to ladders. People were using them, meeting each other, exchanging greetings, and turning off when they reached their destinations. Women were carrying pots to the courtyards, and men and women were going to the edge of the city and down to the ground for foraging, farming and hunting. Crockson did not pause to introduce Blaze and Stone to anyone; Blaze realized that this was because they were not yet citizens of the city. They still had to prove their merit as craftsmen or workers.

  He took them to another linked series of chambers. Each had an aperture at the top, perhaps having once been an individual house, but now they were a complex of four or five with ground-level doors between them. Blaze realized that only the outer wall of houses had to be secure against snakes; inner ones could connect as they pleased. These ones had stoneworkers and something Blaze didn’t recognize.

  “I bring two new men, from the mountains,” Crockson announced. “One is an obsidian stoneworker; the other deals with fire.”

  Several men looked up, interested.

  “Show your skill,” Crockson said to Stone.

  Stone brought out several of his blades and passed them around. One man beckoned him. Stone went there, and the man presented him with an unworked fragment of obsidian.

  Stone smiled. He took it to a stone worktable and brought out his chipping tools. He turned the fragment over, studying it from all angles, then applied his tools and chipped off a suitable raw blade. He set aside the main fragment and went to work on the chip, carefully fracturing off a smaller chip. It would take much of the day to produce a perfectly crafted blade, but it was clear that he knew exactly how to do it. He smiled as he concentrated.

  The man caught Crockson’s eye. He nodded affirmatively. He could see already that Stone was no impostor. Then he put a hand on Stone’s shoulder. “You are one of us,” he said. “I recognize your blades, and see that you are their author. Now we shall exchange names.”