Riven by Sever Bronny

Author:Sever Bronny [Bronny, Sever]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Epic, Fantasy Adventure, Fiction, Legends, Magic, Medieval Knights, Myth, Sword and Sorcery, Wizards
ISBN: 0993767621
Publisher: Sever Bronny LTD.
Published: 2015-02-20T05:00:00+00:00

Comforts

The bath wagon sported four side-by-side wooden tubs separated by elegant semi-translucent screens. Just like the shop wagon, it was far larger on the inside than seemed possible, an arcane room that perplexed the mind. In the center stood a series of stone hearths to keep the room warm. On the other side of the divide were booths fitted with sconce candles and vanity dressers.

They met Marta, a heavyset woman with tan skin. She took one look at the note, nodded, and told them to undress in the private booths, assigning each a soft white robe. Soon they were relaxing in steaming tubs while she washed their clothing and blankets. The scars on Augum’s back from the Penderson farm tingled in the hot water.

“You very lucky,” Marta said in her thick eastern accent. “Youth is best time to be warlock. Before joining caravan, I go Dramask academy. Stop at 3rd degree.”

“What’s your element?” Bridget asked.

“Fire. I go back to Tiberra when make money for family.” She squeezed their laundry through a drying roller.

“What’s Tiberra like? I’ve never been there.”

“Is beautiful place. You see blankets? Is that beautiful. Bright color everywhere. Color, color, color. You come visit. Then you taste spices, have tea ceremony, buy from market. I miss Tiberran men. I miss dance. Husband die sick. Solia no place for me. People too cold, think war too much. Caravan dancers and singers here no good. And it not smell right here. Smell like tree and fire and snow. There, it smell like food and spices and laughter and family.”

“But it’s north enough you get snow too, don’t you?”

“Oh, ya, we have snow too. But it … different. Me know not how explain.”

Augum quickly averted his eyes from Leera’s vague form in the booth next door as she began lathering her hair. “How did One Eye get these wagons to be so big inside?”

“He hire great warlock.” Marta squeezed their robes through a drying roller. “They work on wagons long time. Cost too much gold.”

“Is there any news about the coming war?”

“Please you no talk about war here. I sick of war.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Of course she didn’t want to talk about it—her family was there! He decided to ask about something light-hearted. “So this caravan has dancers and singers too?”

“Oh, ya ya ya. But they no good. Tiberran better. Much better. Full of soul. Here they weep. One Eye come to villages and put on arcane show, sell trinkets. He good man. We happy have jobs. We safe. He barter to keep us safe. But he old man. Very, very old man. I worry he sick. I worry he die. Too many people hungry. Legion take too many for war. Is no good. Solia hungry and sick.”

Yes it is, Augum thought, it certainly is …

“So what’s with the name thing?” Leera asked. “Why does One Eye get our names wrong?”

“If look like someone he know from when he young, he think name is same.” Marta’s forearm lit up with three rings of fire.

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