“Things not going well?” Gareth asked, sensing concern in Faring’s tone.
“These days the price of leather hardly covers the cost of buying the skins and working them. Da says we can’t keep on like this.”
“But the tannery’s the biggest business in the village.”
“No more, if things don’t change.”
Gareth took a few moments to consider Faring’s words. Most people in the village earned money from the tannery in one fashion or another. All benefited. The implications scared him. “Does your roof really leak?”
“No. A little water seeps down one wall when it rains, is all.” He punched Gareth on the shoulder, “Come on, I wasn’t trying to make you sorry for me with my hard luck story.”
“If it makes you feel better, the roof on my hut leaks in a dozen places. I forget to fix it when the sun is out.”
“Sounds like you.” Faring plucked an apple from a low hanging branch, examined it, and tossed it aside as if he found a worm hole. He selected one hanging on a lower branch and took a bite that consumed almost half the apple. Between chewing he turned to Gareth, he said, “Did you come here to complain about a little water now and then?”
“No.” Gareth paused, then decided to plunge in and ask his questions. “Some new teachers came to speak with me today. They talked about us hunting the dragon egg. Who did you tell about us going up there to the mountain?”
“Tell? Me? I said nothing to anyone. My Da would put a strap on my butt if he knew.”
“Yet, they knew about it.”
Faring reached for another apple, his third. He sat in the soft grass and looked up at Gareth. “They know everything. At least, they like to act like it.”
Gareth sat down, facing him. “Three sour apples will make you sick. And teachers do not know everything. Today they ordered me to stop hunting for an egg. I asked them to pay me for not hunting dragon eggs.”
“You mean they’ll pay you for hunting an egg?”
“No, I asked them to pay me for not hunting or gathering dragon eggs. They said it was too dangerous, so I asked them for payment if I stay away from the nest.”
“Pay you for doing nothing? That’s crazy talk. I didn’t want to hunt any of those eggs anyhow, so they should pay me too,” Faring said, anger clear in his voice. “But, for you, they pull you away from your farm work and spend whole days teaching your dull mind subjects you don’t need to know. They make a special trip to talk to you up here in the upper end of the valley where nobody lives, and where the dragon lives. Then, they decide to pay you for not going egg hunting.”
“I wasn’t trying to upset you, Faring. Besides, they haven’t decided to pay me, or not.”
“If they do pay you for not goin’ after eggs, you should share half of it with me.”
Gareth looked off into the distance, allowing his thoughts to simmer. Finally, he continued, “Why do they only talk to me? Only teach me? Have you ever heard about them talking or teaching anyone else?”
“No. They always watch you, too.”
“Really?” Gareth paused. This was a subject neither had discussed. For his part, Gareth saw the teachers much as he saw the workers at the tannery, the local farmers, and those who worked at the inn. Dun Mare was a small village, and he saw everyone, sooner or later--usually sooner. The teachers were like the people he’d see daily in his life, and he accepted them as he had the trees, hills, and mountains beyond. They were ever-present, and he’d grown accustomed to them. Faring suggested a path he’d never wandered. “They watch me? How? Different from everyone else?”
Faring nodded and said between chewing, “Since you came to Dun Mare when you were little, they watch you all the time. I’ve never seen a teacher about unless you’re near, and nobody had ever seen one of them before you came along. At least, that’s what elders in the village say.”
“Like they’re connected to me?”
“Listen, all I can say is if I see one of them green robes skulking about, I know you can’t be far off. Chances are, there’s one or two near us right now.”
Gareth glanced around but didn’t see any. But, Faring’s words held the ring of truth. He took a few heartbeats to think back. “A long time ago, when I slipped and fell into Dead Horse Pond and almost drowned, a teacher rushed out of nowhere, jumped in and rescued me.”
“See?” Faring said. “That’s what I’m sayin’. They’re always about when you are.”
“I remember that day clearly. I thought I was alone, and he showed up. Like magic.”
“Remember when you hurt your leg on the path to the high orchards a few winters ago? You couldn’t walk, and the night was coming on, fast. You’d have frozen up there.”
“Except a teacher came along and helped me limp back to Odd’s farm,” Gareth said, almost in wonderment. “I guess I’ve been so used to them being around over the years I never spent the time to think about them, instead of just the lessons.”
Faring tossed the apple core. “You’re supposed to be so smart, but everyone else in the village knows about it.”
“So you think they’re more than teachers? You think they’re here to protect me?”
“Seems so.”
Gareth considered. It made sense. There were others things, too. It had been the teachers who worked out the deal with Odd that provided work on the farm and the hut he lived in. Also, there were the “gifts” he sometimes found at his door. Meat or vegetables. Sometimes fruit, and a maybe even a new shirt if he needed one because of acid holes from dragon spit on the old one. All of these things had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, and he had accepted them as normal, but they were not. At least, not normal for others. Just him.
Faring waited, watching his friend think.
Gareth finally said, “Everyone sees things I don’t. Makes me feel stupid.”
“Fact is, sometimes you are stupid. Like right now. You’re asking yourself all the wrong questions.”
Leaning closer, Gareth said, “What would you ask?”
“I would ask the ‘whys.' That’s what’s really important. Why are they here? Why do they watch you? Why are you so important that teachers come all the way from down-valley to teach you, and why are there probably ten of them here in Dun Mare to watch you all the time? That’s a lot of whys.”
Abruptly, Gareth stood. “I want to see something in the tannery.”
“You’ve been in there a hundred times, and don’t like the smell of it.”
Gareth held out a hand to help the younger boy stand. “Get off your lazy butt and lead the way. This is important.”
Faring stood, but hesitated. “It’s about that dragon egg again, isn’t it? You hate the stink down there in the tannery, so what other reason is there to go?”
They walked together, down the well-used path at the edge of the forest and to the unlocked tannery door. The stench increased with each step, but neither commented on it. Once inside the dim interior of the large stone building, Gareth said, “Show me the acid you use to eat the hair off skins, and makes them soft.”
“In the back.” Faring led the way and pointed outside to stone-lined vats containing thick, dark liquids emitting foul smells, surrounded by hundreds of hairless hides hung to dry in the sun on wood racks and stretcher frames. Some were bare skin on both sides while others still held fur. Faring waved an arm. “The hides with hair on them soak in a mixture of water and ash, then we scrape them clean and stretch them in the sun. The bare leather has been soaked in acid to get the last of the hair off, or to soften it.”