Chapter 2

The women of the brothel had chipped in their tips together and set out a feast for Zuri. After the bland, but oh-so-appropriate dishes served in the dorms for students, he was dancing with delight. They scooped out oxtail soup with gelatinous globs of goodness bobbing in the liquid. He was offered thin slices of stale bread soaked in oil quickly toasted on the griddle alongside the table. The second course was coarsely chopped pig intestines sauteed in lard with spicy chilies, onions, and peppers. For dessert, they boiled rice in milk and served it with roasted chopped nuts and an aromatic spice that turned his lips brown.

He realized as he ate that Pira had listened when he described the best parts of his childhood when they lay in bed after satisfying themselves. The feast proved it. He kissed all the women goodbye, giving them thanks for the best meal he could remember receiving. They had one more surprise for him, a new journey coat with pockets hidden inside.

Even the madam applauded when he held up the gift. When the hubbub had quieted some, she announced that she had a gift for the new Gura as well. Her backroom crackerjack paraded into the room gently balancing a long stave in his outstretched arms. He gestured to Zuri to take the staff from his hands.

The madam began her story. “I happened to “visit” our local Gura last week, and the dear man gave me a proper tour of the building. After an in-depth examination of his robing room, I noticed a closet, which I remembered from my childhood working as an Altar Maid. When he stepped out to fetch a rag to clean up our mess, I checked out that closet and laid eyes upon this discarded relic of the previous Gura. After offering a polite little lie that his wife was in the building and looking for him, our Gura shot out the door like his ass was on fire. Left alone, I took my wage by claiming this memory of my childhood as my own. We all want to send you off the best we can offer. Use it well, Zuri.”

“I will, madam, and thank you for everything,” Zuri said. The madam clapped her hands, and everyone scrambled to clear the mess and prepare for an afternoon of gainful employment. There were bills to pay and business to be done.

Pira accompanied him to the back door and kissed him gently on the lips in the alley. “Do you really need to sneak so carefully?” she asked.

“From the moment I walked onto that campus, every moment has been orchestrated,” Zuri said. “Do you think they would not have an endgame prepared? If I were willing to use the institution to destroy a student, I would carefully plot the final steps, including how to dispose of the body. I had no idea they traced some of my wanderings in Lewa Ilu. If I don’t anticipate that they did plot thoroughly, I would be taking foolish chances. Even pausing for the celebration you threw was a big chance.” Placing his hand on her head, he blessed her in the name of God and wished her peace. He darted away.

Keeping to the back ways as much as possible, Zuri wended his way to the north end of the district. When he had to walk the open streets, he kept to the side and walked at a deliberate pace, doing his best not to call attention to himself. He crossed the largest street in the district, which led to the adjacent Layde District where a large tavern with a lively group of customers kept the tavern and its people busy. A wagon was already behind the building and the servants were loading the empty barrels into the back. With the passing of a final coin, Zuri climbed into a cleaned barrel, stuffing his pack in his lap, and maneuvering his staff through the tap hole. He felt every barrel that landed on the boards.

The driver gave out a call and snapped his whip. With only empty barrels, two horses pulled the wagon through the streets easily and quickly. He listened to the driver exchange banter with the guards at the city gates. They wished the driver a safe journey by name and the wagon moved again without soldiers mounting the wagon to check the empties. Zuri counted the clops of the horses before he allowed himself to release a sigh of relief.

After a half hour on a rutted road that threw Zuri back and forth, the driver stopped and tapped the top of the barrel. Zuri pushed up the top and clambered out the barrel, drawing lungful’s of fresh air. Sitting on the riding board with the driver, Zuri watched the farms and orchards as they trundled along. As the sun was sinking in the west, the driver turned off onto another dirt road with two stone pillars on either side.

“We’ve arrived at the distillery, Gura,” the driver said. “It’s best if you go sit in the back of the wagon and keep a low profile until I back the wagon into the cooperage. They won’t unload the wagon until the morning however, I can’t take a chance of being seen speaking with you on the Baron’s property. After I leave, find a dark corner or undershelf to sleep in tonight. Just make sure you’re gone before the workers arrive. You’ll find a small keg of the master brew that the boys keep in back next to the master’s workbench. A pint or two will fill your belly. Best of luck to you, Gura, and may God be with you.”

Zuri thanked the man for his kindnesses and his thoughtfulness. He did as the driver instructed, locating both the barrel and a spot of hay that the workers must use to take a nap in the heat of the day. He had slept in worse beds and with an empty stomach many times. The ale was strong and tasty.

He slipped out of the building with the crowing of the cock. The inhabitants were not stirring yet when Zuri stepped into the woods heading due west. For leagues he cut across fields and pastures. He was chased by a bull and escaped by a hairsbreadth over the wall. People were working the fields, toiling while men on horses stood nearby, sometimes shouting and sometimes cracking a whip. They lashed anyone, men, women, and children. Zuri had been warned he would have to pass through the Nobles lands first.

When he could, he snatched vegetables from the bushes or pulled them up out of the dirt, hastily covering his theft with a couple of swipes of his boot. Finding a ripe orchard was harder, and when a collection of trees was heavy with fruit, there were usually too many people about to draw near. Berry bushes were a good find even if their thorns were pronounced.

After four days, the men on horses and their beaten down tenants disappeared. Now, he was heading into land that had a slight undulation. He was traveling through family farms, where farmers and their kin managed a livelihood from the land despite the proximity to great estates. Grazing from the fields was easier with less people about. There were occasional ponds and irrigation ditches to refill his water skin. Fearful of reports dribbling back to Lewa Ilu, Zuri kept to himself and off the roads.

The land began to rise and fall, and the foothills appeared. Their sides were staked with vineyards, and the valleys between were filled with orchards of unripe fruit. The only vegetable fields were small plots next to the modest homes, leaving Zuri to scavenge what he could find.

The hills grew steeper, and the vineyards began to peter out. Bowing to the inevitable, he wound down the steep incline and stepped onto the road. The highway looked like it had frequent traffic although it was empty when he stepped out of the brush. Zuri had not made up his mind whether to remain and introduce himself, or to disappear when he heard people coming. A man alone on a lonely road was in a potential predicament especially when all he was armed with was a stave staff with no training in its use.

Walking down the road had benefits though. Zuri recognized he was moving through territory faster. His feet and ankles ached less as he spent less time avoiding awkward purchases for his steps. He also took the time to inspect his gifted staff. He had seen enough wood from different regions come through the seaport to recognize different types of trees. From black to red and yellow, he had watched exotic cargoes of wood hoisted onto the wharf. He did not recognize the wood he held, suspecting that its color had transformed with age. The runes did not make a lot of sense either, although he recognized the Ancient script. Some of the runes were letters and words, suggesting the elements of nature, an early lesson from first year classes on how to classify the world into categories. Other runes were glyphs, akin to the lists of arcane movement forms he was made to memorize. Zuri had learned by trial that the arcane movements had a lot to do with auras. The movements could enhance or shift a dancer’s aura, not that his professors had ever discussed the topic with him. His classmates had acted ignorant of the qualities of the movement too. Of course, he had kept his own counsel.

He heard horse hooves coming towards him in a forested area. Deciding that caution was the better choice, he dove into the trees and secured himself in the middle of a tumble of rocks. The three men with their four horses were dressed in black trousers and black leather boots. Their shirts were black with white stripes, peeking out from the expensive riding jackets they wore. They had swords strapped across their backs.

From his perch, Zuri shifted into his Gura sight. He did not like what he saw, thin with wide blossoms of red and orange about their persons. Only the most dangerous men in the city districts sported similar auras. He remained unmoving until the men passed and even then, he waited a bit. The riders left him with a reminder that the road was dangerous.

The border crossing between the provinces was easy to identify. A small garrison was posted who maintained a watch that stopped traffic in both directions. Zuri climbed the steep hillside and slowly made his way past the block, carefully preventing small stones and rocks from rolling downhill.

Late in the day after a strained climb up to a mountain pass, the line of heights broke. A long thin valley spread out before Zuri and the road ran through the middle of it. He espied farmhouses and fields on either side, running up to the mountains to the north and to the south. Down the middle of the road and not too far away, was an inn. Zuri did not know whether to laugh or cry. For all his anger and determination to exact revenge, he was tired to the bone and hungry and frightened. He had been a city boy his entire life. Walking through the meadows and forests on lightly traveled roads was a new, daunting experience.