“I was posted here, so here I am. My bigger concern is for Fin. This is not the environment he is used to.”
“Unkea is a military outpost on an island off the coast of the continent of Gultima where we face occasional seafarer attacks as they plunder the trade routes which pass us,” he spoke without inflection. “Tell me, how does that differ from Pasaocea?”
I huffed out a laugh. “When you put it like that, sir, it does not.” Though in every other way it really differed. Childcare, schooling with decent class sizes, women, shopping facilities, a varied diet of fresh foods, leisure facilities, socialisation opportunities, an up-to-date library, warm in summer, onlyoccasional storms in winter, it didn’t rain 86% of the time, little things but important.
“Good. Then I hope you will make an effort to see us in a better light. Assuming we get better light. Usually in Summer. Though if you blink, you’ll miss that.”
I blinked at him. Was he attempting humour?
“However, recent events have raised concerns about your magical abilities.”
I frowned. “I overtaxed myself, sir, I admit, but I am—”
“Flight Sergeant, you more than overtaxed yourself.” He took a step closer, his hand seemed to reach out, then that stiff control snapped back into place. “Three days unconscious is near self-annihilation.”
That statement did not land well with me. Because he was right.
“I therefore think that we need to consider how your talents are best utilised.” He dragged in a breath and swallowed. “I cannot afford to lose you. We, the Fortress, cannot afford to lose our only healer.” That second was rather tacked on, and I didn’t know how to interpret it. “Have you ever undertaken training of your gifts?”
“Only basic first aid stuff in college.”
He nodded. “I will speak to the next healer when he arrives. Perhaps we can rectify that.”
* * *
As Unkea Fortress was on an island, trips inland were required on a regular basis. This was an opportunity to connect with Sky Commander Zemich, to pick up official supplies, make personal purchases if necessary, if possible, and generally see something other than the unremitting grey of Unkea. We’d been in Unkea three months before I got my first chance to go.
I think Flight Captain Shi was concerned I might try not to come back. But I requested the opportunity as it was coming up to both the Saturnine Mid-Winter Celebration, and Fin’s birthday, his first birthday without the group of friends he had had in Pasaocea. Yes, I admit, I laid it on a little thick in hopes of being able to spoil my son in at least some small way.
Shi agreed, but I think he knew exactly what I was doing.
The mainland Riders camp was at Ashland Harbour, one of the few that was shared with Tidewardens as the summer trade routes were served from here. The bigger port was in Murmaberg further up the coast, but this was where the Tidewardens brought their ships for maintenance. The harbour was quieter and sheltered by the cliffs that provided cave nests for the dragons. What improved the situation for riders, at least, was that the Tidewardens also brought in trade items. The guy known as the Fixer claimed he could get anything for anyone from anywhere. I doubted that, but I didn’t doubt that most of it wouldn’t be Church-approved.
That day I did my duty and sorted all official requirements. I wasn’t party to Shi’s meeting with Sky Commander Zemich, so I told Salvadora to let me know if Lord Aurexian heard that Shi was ready to go and headed down to the Fixer’s office.
It wasn’tofficiallyhis office. It wasn’t even an office, but he had plenty of boxes and plenty to sell. A lot of it was just tat, but I found a couple of things for Fin and some sweet treats everyone in Unkea could enjoy.
I was about finished when I saw the colour red and pulled out what I discovered to be a scarf.
“Finest silk, that one. From Hushini City.”
I ran my fingers over it. “This is good silk, but not from Hushini. Probably Aramansk.”
He stood straighter and crossed his arms. “Oh, you know about these things, do you?”
“My wife does.” I put the silk down. “And I’m not foolish enough to disappoint her.”
I put the other items on the table.
He named a price for the scarf.
“I wouldn’t pay that even for Hushini silk. Now how much for this.”
He gave me a reasonable price, then named a lower price for the silk.
“That’s over twenty percent more than I’d pay the mercher in Perton.” Perton was a major stop on the winter trade route which largely put the Tidewardens here out of business when the seas to the north froze.
“Fine. No silk for you.”
