Summer of Crows by Hans Cummings

Author:Hans Cummings [Cummings, Hans]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VFF Publishing
Published: 2020-03-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 36

The sun blazed high in Calliome’s sky by the time Aveline and the workers finally broke camp and started their trek back to Curton. The stonemasons had everything they needed for the short term, since they were staying behind to construct the monument and permanent grave markers. Aveline trusted they could work around the draks, should they arrive before the masons finished. She promised them she would arrange a regular flow of supplies once she returned to town.

Aveline rode with Valon in a cart near the front of the procession, but as the wagon bounced over every rock and divot, she soon regretted not choosing to walk. When they finally stopped for the night, she ached. Even an extra mug of muddy ale did little to dull the pain. Despite her discomfort, she slept soundly. The next day, the workers made an early start. Fair weather held all morning, and by midday, the entrance to Curton once again came into view.

Aveline split from the group as soon as they passed through the gate and rushed to her home. She didn’t bother closing her door behind her before rummaging through her wardrobe for a change of clothes. Gathering them into a bundle, she then went into Old Town, making her way to the riverside bathhouse.

By the time she finished bathing, her clothes were returned to her freshly laundered, although still damp. She took them home, donned her armor and city watch tabard, and returned to the streets of her town to head to the citadel.

Even though she’d been gone barely ten days, the hard work folks put toward cleaning up from the flood made Curton appear, if not new, at least, not like it had just suffered a catastrophe. Gone were the groups of people cleaning debris and repairing structures. In their place, folk bustled, going about their regular business.

As she passed through the market, she heard a familiar voice hawking Imrus’s fine Curtonian copper pots. Ra-Jareez’s embellishments of Imrus’s skilled work gave one the impression he sold the handiwork of Adranus himself. She took a circuitous route down a different row as to not become distracted by the faelix’s salesmanship.

“Hey, Lady Captain!” The gruff, bellowing oroq voice felled Aveline’s good mood.

Gritting her teeth, Aveline turned. Therkla jogged toward her, a hand on the hilt of her sword. Aveline waited until the oroq woman reached her, then extended her hand.

“Good to see you again.”

Narrowing her eyes, the oroq stared at the outstretched hand as if it were a viper poised to strike. “You owe me money.”

“So I do. Your friend, Aerik, too. Is he around?”

“He’s at Danica’s Den.”

Aveline gestured for Therkla to accompany her before resuming her route. “I trust I can give you his payment as well and you’ll see that he gets it?”

“Of course.”

“I’m headed to the citadel now. Come with me, and I’ll get your money.” Aveline was not averse to paying Therkla her promised reward. However, part of her had hoped the oroq woman would consider her labor a gift to the townsfolk of Curton, chiefly because they didn’t actually save anyone.

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