It was nice to know the crop at home was good. Carmine would eat well for the next year unless a storm came, which was doubtful now that they were well into spring.
Vrell’s energy returned quickly, and she joined Master Hadar and Carlani for breakfast. The master had business afterward and sent her away. With relief, she went outside the keep.
The courtyard was bustling with activity. Vrell wove between people, horses, and wagons, looking at the things for sale. She was thankful she had the bag of coins from Lord Orthrop. She purchased small linen cloth and a sage tooth scrub so that she could clean her teeth. She also bought a small antler bone comb. She could hardly wait for the cleansing she would give herself that night.
She came to Dâthos’s temple. The round structure, surrounded in regal pillars, was beautiful, but it gave Vrell a chill. Vendors had set up booths on all sides selling gold, silver, and bronze cups in all shapes and sizes. People plunked down a lot of coins to give temple offerings to gods who were false. Guards stood at the entrance, keeping the peasants, slaves, and strays from entering. Such lowly worshippers left offerings around the outside of the temple instead.
Vrell walked on. She enjoyed the feel of the breeze, but it was not the same as the haunting smells from home. Mahanaim was a port city, and as such it smelled of fish and the rancid saltwater that filled the canals. Vrell bided her time, browsing the carts of merchants selling furs, fabrics, wooden bowls and cups, tools, and weapons.
She paused at the local smith’s workshop and watched from a distance as he pounded red-hot iron into a long shape. She stepped closer, enthralled by the flying sparks.
The smith’s apprentice was a short, husky boy in his early teens. The youth filed another blade. He glanced up through sweaty dark blond hair, meeting Vrell’s gaze with a bored expression before turning back to his work.
Vrell stepped closer. “Do you sell any swords, sir?”
The smith looked up. His dark skin was caked in sweat, black smudges, and pockmarks from sparks that had scarred his skin. “You’re in the market?”
“Aye. My master wants I should buy one.”
The boy glanced at Vrell again, this time with curious eyes. “Who’s your master?”
“Jax mi Katt,” Vrell said.
The boy’s mouth lifted in a one-sided grin.
The master smith turned to her, his face wrinkling with amusement. “You’re training in the Kingsguard?”
“Aye,” Vrell said, straightening her posture.
“Why come to me? Kingsguard knights get their weapons from Kingsguard smiths.”
Oh. Well, if Vrell had known that, she would not have weaved such a tale. She furrowed her brow. “I am not training to be a knight. Still, my master says I should buy one. He is going to show me a thing or two once I get myself a sword.”
“Is he now? And just how much money do you have, boy?”
Vrell was no fool. “First tell me the cost.”
The smith laughed. “And if I said a sword costs a hundred silvers?”
Vrell smirked and glanced at the apprentice, who had stopped filing to watch this exchange. “Then I would have to keep looking, for that price is thievery. Surely you are not the only one selling weapons this fine morning. Maybe I would do better to purchase a bow or axe.”
At this, the young apprentice burst into laughter. “You’d be struck down thrice over before managing to swing a battle axe. Even a bow requires more muscle than you have. I suggest a set of handaxes or a dagger. Perhaps you could use them while your enemy sleeps?”
Vrell huffed and said to the smith, “Thank you, sir, for your time.” She turned away, scanning the carts for a peddler with premade weapons.
“Come now,” the smith called after her. “Don’t mind the boy. If you’ve got ten silvers, we can make you a fine short sword. Nothing fancy, but it would hold its own for you to learn on.”
Vrell turned back to the smith and beamed. “When can I have it?”
The smith took the blade he was working on and thrust it into a drum of water, sending a cloud of hissing steam around his face. “Pay half up front, and you’ll get it in a week.”
“Agreed.” Vrell pulled out her coin purse and counted out five silvers.
*
“I’m going to teach you two new things today,” Master Hadar said.
It was after breakfast. They were sitting in the empty cell across from Master Hadar’s chambers. The room was cold and dark, but for the lantern.
“These are very important to the work you’ll be doing for me. First, you must learn to recognize a knock. This is when someone is trying to message you while your mind is closed. And you must also learn to message, to speak to one person without anyone picking up on your conversation. First we will practice messaging.”
Vrell fought to keep herself from beaming. She was going to learn to contact Mother! She waited patiently for Master Hadar to explain.
“Speaking to one person at a time is all about concentration and control. You must allow one person inside, blocking off an area for them in your mind, careful to hide everything else from them. The stronger your mind, the easier this is to do. You will exercise by jumping from one individual conversation to another, trying to keep them each private as you go. You’ll practice today with Sir Jax, Khai, and myself. Once you understand the concept, we will practice knocking.”
Master Hadar brought out his basket of trinkets and dug through it. He selected a little stone horse and a charm made from feathers and beads, and set them on the table. “The horse belongs to Jax. The charm is Khai’s. Reaching me shouldn’t be difficult since I’m right here. Begin.”
Vrell practiced. With bloodvoicing, that seemed the only way to learn.
She gripped the little stone horse and focused on Jax’s face. Jax mi Katt, she called to the picture she visualized in her mind. Jax mi Katt.
Hello, Vrell. Jax’s voice boomed in her head. It startled her so much she dropped the horse and lost the connection.
“Well?” Master Hadar said.
“It worked!” Vrell said. “But I lost him.” She picked up the stone horse. “Are you certain he cannot know all my thoughts when he speaks to me?”
“Not if you are guarding them.”
Vrell tried again and had a successful conversation with Jax. Master Hadar made her practice that for a while, then he moved on to conversations with multiple people at once. She spoke to Jax and Master Hadar at the same time.
Khai made things difficult, always barging in uninvited. Vrell solved this problem by setting up a cottage in her mind and organizing her thoughts into rooms. A knock, as Master Hadar called it, felt like a heavy itch to her ears or a quick stab to her temple, depending on whether it came from Jax or Khai. It was followed by the voice of the person trying to reach her saying her name. This was what Mother had been doing to reach Vrell, but Vrell hadn’t known how to answer at the time.
Khai knocked over and over, bringing a dull headache to Vrell within minutes. To combat him, she added a foyer to her cottage. The next time Khai knocked, she invited him inside there to wait his turn. Soon she had Khai and Master Hadar waiting in the foyer while Vrell and Jax had a private discussion about skinning reekats.
Master Hadar was thrilled with Vrell’s progress. Although she got better and better at the process, her energy continued to drain just as fast. Master Hadar could find no reason for this.