Stirling, S. M. - Emberverse - 12 - The Desert and the Blade by Stirling S. M

Author:Stirling, S. M. [Stirling, S. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-08-13T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ERYN MUIR

(FORMERLY MUIR WOODS NATIONAL MONUMENT)

CROWN PROVINCE OF WESTRIA

(FORMERLY CALIFORNIA)

HIGH KINGDOM OF MONTIVAL

(FORMERLY WESTERN NORTH AMERICA)

JULY/FUMIZUKI/CERWETH 15TH

CHANGE YEAR 46/FIFTH AGE 46/SHOHEI 1/2044 AD

One of the ironies of this strange place is meeting little bits of things that are familiar amid so much that is alien, Reiko thought as she yawned and slipped beneath the covers on her futon.

Eryn Muir was crowded right now, and she and Órlaith and Heuradys were sharing a room as they had on the ship.

Though with Lu-anne then too. Such a great pity that she fell . . .

It had been an odd experience to simply be one of a group of young women on a journey rather than the axis on which everything turned. Odd and rather refreshing. The Bearkiller had been perfectly respectful, in a foreign way, yet also . . .

How do they say here? Good company, yes, and fun. She died very well. And she was young, but the young are no more immortal than the old. Duty is heavier than mountains.

It was easier to prepare herself for sleep because it turned out that the Dúnedain used very much the same type of bedding that her people did, the combination of shikibuton—flexible stuffed mattress—a kakebuton comforter, and a pillow stuffed with chaff, though they called it all a futon-set. It felt luxuriously warm as soon as her body-heat had been caught for a little while, and the linen covering was as crisp and smooth as the cotton she was more used to.

Two of them were in Western-style bed frames hinged to the walls of this wedge-shaped room, one for her and the opposite for the Crown Princess, and one was set out on the floor for Órlaith’s inseparable liege knight. But they could all be rolled up for storage in the daytime in the way she was used to. Except for the patterns embroidered on the comforter and some differences in the texture of the fabric it might have come from home; it was exquisitely clean, and smelled very faintly of lavender, which must be included in the padding.

There was a little stove built into the wall, but they hadn’t bothered with a fire though it was chilly and damp outside. The quilt with its linen cover was quite warm enough; in fact the contrast of cool air outside and warmth within was perfect for rest. Though it would have been perfect if they could have used it to brew some sencha—she missed the way tea helped you center yourself.

The Rangers seemed to save their lavishness for public things and public occasions, and live rather plainly themselves; they reminded her of an order of warrior monks, save that they had families. From what she’d heard they did have warrior monks here, orders both Christian and Buddhist; there hadn’t been time to enquire more. That was an institution that had been tentatively revived in the homeland, on a small scale and only in the last few years.

The walls even had racks for swords and stands for armor, bows and quivers, both in use now; this was a barracks, more or less.

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