Chapter 20

We all have places we can go, people we can count on. Some inspire us, others comfort us, a few are crucibles in which we build the tools that define us. Sonshi was one of my crucibles.

When I was younger, I had admired my Aunt Serenity's twin swords and wished that I had my own. Sonshi was where that yearning took me. Here I found the Shiru, hunters, warriors, philosophers and poets.

Sonshi was metal poor, as facets went. The people who lived there had weapons mostly made of wood and bone. Their armor was made of wool, leather, scale, hide and hair. They built of wood and stone, raised crops and raised animals for food and as beasts of burden.

The Shiru echoed the traits familiar in the human build. Very close really, as far as their physiology went. Their softly scaled skin was more reptilian, but beautifully so, and their eyes were round and soft, usually a bright baby blue, and set between small leaf-shaped ears. As far as what was visible to the eye, their eyes, hands and feet were their most human features. If you were to include things not visible to the eye, then the most human thing about them was their hearts. They were short or tall, fat or thin, quiet or loud, good and bad in all the proportions that humans were.

My weapons were called sonshu, their type, not their name. They were made of otu, a dense, heavy wood whose hearts could be baked in ovens and shaped by the delicate touch of the shudiki, the master artisans dedicated to crafting the wooden weaponry. My name was Ita, and meant 'clear sky'.

"Ita, your tips are low," Coru teased. She was Shudiki, but also she was Shudai; a master of the sonshu, and my teacher.

"If all you want to do is talk about it and not try to take advantage of it, then my plan to draw you in will fail," I answered with a laugh of my own, letting the tip drop a small fraction further.

"I shall pretend to fall for it then to draw you out. Perhaps you shall make a mistake, or even grow weary, then I will show you something new, eh?"

Coru was always finding something new to show me, often painfully. This was likely to be no exception. The opening came and I took it, Coru countered, shifted, switched hands and began a pattern of attack that started low but made me want to raise my blade higher and higher in defense. This was a trap, I felt, and a hard one to resist. Once my blade crept up far enough, Coru began her real attack. My Shudai spent the next quarter candle providing me learning opportunities from a dozen variations of that new attack. Afterwards, I spent the time between practice and second candle cleaning the practice yard and preparing the sands for the next day's practice.

The meal, what I would have called midday meal on Arbor, but which the Shiru called second candle, was a roast antelope and onion soup with brown bread. The local beer accompanied it. I hadn't had much exposure to beer before this, but it was pretty much the only drink of choice here, and probably far healthier than trying to drink any of the water.

"This afternoon I would like you at the bellows," Coru said over the meal. "I need a steady high heat to put the right finish on Lady Beten's gift."

"Of course," I answered.

Shiru females were generally larger and stronger than the males, and I was larger and stronger than most. Women tended to be the laborers and soldiers here, and the men were most often the craftsmen and artisans. Despite those divisions, the ruling class came from both genders equally, and other than the divisions due to the physical differences, no gender prejudices existed among the Shiru. Physical beauty was determined by the subtle patterns in the light scaling that covered their bodies, particularly the facial patterns, but when talking of sexuality, it was the delicate symmetry of the patterns on and around the genitalia.

"Ita, do you need to do any shopping today?" Ges asked. He was Coru's junior husband, and did their household shopping. I was Coru's student, but I did not live with them. I kept an apartment across the street, renting it from someone whose entire livelihood was built around providing Coru's students with inexpensive housing. I kept my own household there, and though second candle was included with my training, first candle and third candle were not.

The Sonshi day was divided into candles, with each candle being four hours. First candle was morning meal, second candle was midday meal and third candle was evening meal. The convention was solidly based in reality. The Vesenu, which literally translated as 'fen chanters' in the common Shiru tongue, made and sold the candles in every corner of the world. Each candle burned for four hours. Only the wealthiest could afford servants to keep candles burning throughout the night, so the local Vesenu temple rang the prayer bell to mark the start of first candle in every town and city, large and small.

"Yes, just a few things," I told him. Nevala's market was three blocks from our street, and most of our shopping trips were done in groups. The males of the household were always glad to have an armed female along if possible, for protection.

"Coru, do you think you will be done with Ita at the bellows before the market closes?"

"We should only be half a candle," Coru answered. "There'll be plenty of time. Are you taking Cee with you?"

"I was thinking I might," Ges answered. Cee was their daughter, only seven summers old, and a headstrong, outspoken child. "As well as Bru and Kef."

"If you are taking the boys as well, have Oli and Emba go with you."

"That is a good idea, thank you." Ges agreed. As did I, silently. Nevala was a border town, in the foothills near the Shattered Peaks. The town was not lawless, but crime and violence were common here. The Neva Fens, a major Otu forest, grew between the town and the mountains, and the trade in the raw and treated Otu brought a lot of people here hoping to make their fortunes.

Later at the bellows, while the fires were building, my silence finally registered on Coru. "What?"

"You have got to stop putting the boys in my path."

"Why? They are your age. They are well situated and any would tell you they have bright prospects. Are they so ill-formed that you cannot consider them as potential mates?"

"Of course not," I defended. "It is not about their prospects, it is about mine. I shall finish my training by the end of the trade season and then I'll be gone, and I will take no husbands with me."

"It just doesn't make sense," Coru groaned, then caught herself and laughed. "I'm sorry, but you are young, bright, talented and pleasingly formed. I would be a poor mother to them if I didn't seek out the best matches for them, and I see you as an excellent match."

"I told you, I..."

" ... cannot say more," Coru finished for me. "Yes, I know. No more talk. The fire is ready. Concentrate on the bellows now and keep the fire even for me."

And so I did as my Shudiki asked, and before my eyes she shaved and carved and flecked away the least bits of the smoking, sparking wooden shaft that she moved in and out of the fire, revealing the beauty of the weapon that had lain hidden beneath the surface.

As I worked the bellows and Coru worked the heated wood, I thought about 'The Boys', as most called them. Kef was the older of the two and as large as most females. A bit slow to speak, but not slow of mind so much. Everything Kef did was a considered act. Bru was the younger, and he was small, quick and full of sound and fury; and yes, to finish the paraphrase, it almost always signified nothing. Well, not nothing, he was not an empty-headed fool after all, but he sorely could have used some of the consideration his brother had in such great measure. Just as Kef could have used some of Bru's fire.

Bru was fun for a night on the town and Kef was a great companion for a long ride on the plains, and I had dallied a little with both of them. A dalliance or two while young was perfectly acceptable among the Shiru, expected in fact. I had enjoyed both brothers, though I had been thankful to find that Kef was no bigger than the normal Shiru male, despite his bulk. The female Shiru anatomy didn't allow for much variation in the size of the male organ, and I was no exception.

I was glad to have Oli and Emba accompany us to the market. Not because I thought the extra protection was needed, but because with them around Bru would not get out of hand. Ges, being the youngest of the husbands was always on dangerous ground with the younger brother. It was this lack of respect that kept me from further dalliances with him. Kef on the other hand, I managed to get together with occasionally. Oli and Emba were older, though not old, and both females were seasoned riders and guardsmen. Under their practiced eye, I would be able to get my shopping done and still keep a hand on Cee.

The market was not crowded, but those here seemed in a hurry, rushing to find what they were after and get home in time for third candle. I paid only enough attention to them to make sure I wasn't ignorant of any potential danger. I needed bread and some fresh meat for the stew pot. I was also hoping there would be some fresh fruit today. The market seldom had fresh fruit here, even in the middle of the trade season. It was not a big part of the Shiru diet.

I didn't find much in the way of fruit at all, only some chada, a purple, furry fruit, something like a large fig with a tough but sweet and chewy skin. They were particularly good freshly roasted, as the chewy skins softened and the sweet sugars within it carmelized. I bought a couple of dozen of them, letting Cee have one to gnaw on as we shopped.

I bought my bread from Stohr, as usual. He sprinkled ground nuts and sunspice on his bread before he baked it, and I liked the combination of spicy and savory flavor it gave his loaves. Stohr, as usual chatted me up and offered several reasons why I should visit him some night when I was free. He didn't get as suggestive as usual due to Cee's presence, but he never really meant anything by it anyway. He was at least as old as Coru.