Lizz Baldwin by Realms of Shadow

Author:Realms of Shadow
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-11-26T21:09:52+00:00

A Little Knowledge

Elaine Cunningbam

19 Marpenoth, the Year of Wild Magic (1372 DR)

Long rays of morning sun slanted through Halruaa's ancient trees, reaching out like tentative fingers

to waken the rain-sodden village. But Ashtarahh was already long awake and bustling with activity.

The summer monsoon season was over. The village diviner decreed that yesterday's storm would be

the last. Already the rice fields and brissberry bogs were alive with harvesters, moving barelegged

through ankle deep water as they sped their task with morning-glad songs.

Mist clung to the fields and swirled around the small buildings, pinned between land and sky by the

hot, dense air and the swiftly climbing sun. No one wondered how the moisture-laden skies could absorb

yesterday's rains, the answer was in the lush Halruaan landscape, and in particular the tall, thin trees lining

the forest's edge, swaying dreamily to music only they could hear.

The vangi trees came with the first rains, sprouting up overnight like verdant mushrooms. They grew

with incredible speed-two or three handspans a day. By the end of the monsoons, they were ready for

harvest. Several children, agile as monkeys, shimmied up the segmented trunks to pluck the fist-sized

purple fruit at the top. These they tossed into the canvas sheet held taut and ready by the four

glum-faced, land-bound boys who'd drawn short straws. Several young men stood ready with machetes.

Once the fruit was taken, the trees would be cut, dressed into lengths, and dragged to the road. The

village streets were cobbled and the forest roads deeply sheltered, but the path leading through the fields

was slow to harden. Each year fresh rows of vangi trees were pressed into the muck, forming a bumpy

but mostly dry path for market traffic.

This path ended between two shops: the blacksmith and the wheelwright. Smoke rose in billows

from the heating forge, and two apprentices busily rolled new wheels into waiting racks. A trip down the

vangi corduroy road was a bone-rattling gauntlet, and more than one of the expected market carts would

not survive it unscathed. But visiting merchants and artisans shrugged off splintered wheels, unshod oxen,

and broken axles as the cost of doing business in Ashtarahh.

The late summer market was especially busy. Market stalls and tents rapidly took shape under the

hands of carpenters and minor wizards. The owners of more permanent shops folded back the protective

canvases, wielded brooms, and set out their wares. The clack of looms and the tart aroma of ripe

cheeses filled the air. Bright glass vials of brissberry cordial stood in lines, looking like enormous ruby

necklaces. Lengths of fine white linen gleamed in the morning sun, and skeins of brightly dyed yarn hung

in arched windows in deliberate imitation of rainbows. But the most famous of Ashtarahh's crafts were its

cunningly woven tapestries. These hung at every third stall, transforming the market into a veritable

gallery.

Villagers who were not otherwise engaged strolled along the cobbles, admiring the woven art. Most

of the tapestries depicted scenes from Halruaan history and legend. Skyships were commonly depicted,

as were the magical creatures common to Halruaa: the brilliantly colored, many-legged crocodilians

known as behirs, the winged starsnakes, even the dreaded laraken.

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