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A Castrovel Adventure: Part 5, Chapter 19

~O'mei Vaeol mi Remaaue o'kehaeuni loshya usye.~ (In which Vaeol and Remaue strive to satisfy their curiosity.)

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil Yaranevae be’Son
7. Vinelae, 24,546 - 3rd Month in Qabarat   I reckon we are all beginning to weary of this great city’s quickness under the endless rain. Any daytide or eve where we can stay home, we eagerly do. Grudgingly we haul ourselves to the Embassy and wait on Her Highness Lady Nauve’s idleness. Such watch ever brings more welcome-bids from another matron or lady seeking our goodwill, or another trademistress hoping some boon or deal they may behoove. Then we slink back home at the first foreweft. I shrive I have begun praying for my bloodtide, though I still suckle Aeosel. The Korasha have been lurking within the household, until I strongly hinted they should uptake drill, for which I earned no thankfulness. Yet I had to do something, since drinking wine, and feuding become wantsome guests.   After our rather ill-willed moottide with the Inquisitors earlier this month, yesternight I got another dole of Qabarat hallcraft, although this grew from my own work. We came to a mirthtide held by Lady Qesinyei, a matron of the Threefold House, and whom we first met at Ofu-Laubu’s Embassy. The Lady-Matron had learned we are haremmates, and so welcomed us as a token seeking Lauba goodwill. Taiase withheld under illness (I shrive jealousy), leaving me, Semuane, and Istae with our shieldbearers. Although Lady Qesinyei proved giftful enough, the mirthtide became a prattlesome business full with the matron's fellows, kin, and underlings, who misluckily shared not her want for Ofu-Laubu’s goodwill, nor for ours. At least once I overheard the word ~mauhaue~ - upper-strathers - louder than a whisper, which would mean they either wared not our nearness or recked not. When anyone learned we are from Son, their first thought went to Elahat, which news of Son’s overtake seems the whit best known, and which shame from our raid did nothing to lessen my bother. Since the other guests witted us three all as outriders, I almost heard fifteen times ~Son huaua ossura,~ - “Son is flaunting its thews,” as if such deed from our old, small city belooks dear, rather like an elderly grandfather offdriving snakes with his staff, although they seemed thankful that the marshland dykeway’s ownership had lessened tolls. Yet Istae and I had earlier forespoken to tame our pride, on reason that, if these Qabarat ladies deemed us no threat, then we should seem as good outland guests.   The mirthtide might have ended so dully, if I had not met Lady Imurye another matron, who was formerly a fird-holder, had stalldom over the warfare stocks, and also had undergone fetch to the Valmaeana High Staff. When we greeted, she knew my name from our warfare five years ago. She quoth it an oddness that I am now haremmate to Ofu-Laubu’s queen.   She then asked my thought on Ofu-Laubu’s loudly outspoken stand against the Formian War, even until withholding all tithe, stocks, and warriors. Dolefully unready as I was, I reckoned this was truly the hap Lady Marauqereth and I had overtalked back in Ofu-Laubu. Even so, I bewared plight. I knew not these ladies nor their fellowships. While I might forelook some goodwill from Lady Qesinyei our host, it might not reach far. I answered that, while Ofu-Laubu has giftfully bestowed a small worship, I surely should not speak their sake.     11. Vinelae, 24,546 - 3rd Month in Qabarat   Something idle. Yesterday, for Remaue’s birthday and to lift all our moods, we hired a priestess of Kaulisrye. I shrive I knew not what to forelook, since these wonderful priests of ~Tiqidami~ - the Idlesting - are often told but seldom seen back in Son our small city.   The priestess - named Sife - was Lashunta and not an Elf. Gossamer elfclothes surely, and beaded with wasps blue, green, and gold. Her begemmed eartips shocked me: silver cuffs rising to angle. Yet she did not hide her antennae, as one might guess if one tried to seem Elven. She reminded that there is a whole Elf-lover fellowship here in Qabarat (which in early maidenhood had drawn me) of Lashunta who choose to live as Elves, and whereof I behold myself still a little reckful.   Yet the greater glee grew from Remaue’s blush when I led the priestess in. Not much shames my faithful but ownersome shieldbearer-wifemate, which all saw and cheered. Meekly my heaven-tressed love took our guest’s hands and bowed nape. Then, while the men and grooms brought boarddishes and bubblemead for a light mirthtide, we strove with the children running in and out to thieve tastybits. Soon we sent Oshis and Less to put them to bed. Then we sat to a fun meal of sweetbean and mushroom dumplings, honeycheese, and frothy rosecream. Remaue and the priestess Sife undertook a deep talk, which, the longer it went, worried me more, for I could only dream the wickedness my wifemate might make with so doughty and learned fellow, and which strengthened by her antennae’s eagerness.   Afterward when I woke, nestled with Remaue and Kaure, Sife already stood. She gathered her elfcloth and hastily combed her hair. Then she came to Remaue, bade her welcome to the next templetide, and added: ~Oeo’shori zirrye,~ - “And bring your pet.”     12. Vinelae, 24,546 - 3rd Month in Qabarat   Today Remaue got her wish. We brought all the children down to the Marshfarthing and again met Minal and her house. I found a thwartsome wrackgeld when we found the Raumoeva had dragged their ships aland, and Remaue got to scrape keelshells. For my share, I happily helped. Afew times Less’s fun, at Oshis's dearth for having an outlaw father, almost overtook his better deemship. Yet Tae and I hastily hushed him. We also brought some pails of treemilk and bottles of meadbrandy, which we gave, beseeching our hosts merely make more of their outstanding brandymilk. We then settled to eat another hearty stew.   Inthrifty from Minal’s tale of the queer ~Dahazu~ whiskierlings she had bespoken thieving, I had sought other word. I had learned Minal’s house was not alone in strife with these whiskery thieves. Other dockworkers and dwellers near the harbor had told beholding these things, and moreso than merely walking on rear legs, but wielding tools and knives. Yet I had found no wise to tell these whispers from wine-fueled witchtales.   A wineyard mistress in Ship’s End had told these wise whiskerlings had been brought through an elfgate. This befuddled, since I have never heard nor met such a beast in Sovyrian, Candares, or Ofu-Laubu. I cannot reckon for Far Jabask, although if such a wonderful beast dwelled there, I surely believe I would hear. Might they come from Forbidden Ukulam and Laiiaskua? Another stray thought: there is forsoothly another fifth gate that stands among Qabarat’s four elfgates, and unlike them: the worldgate to Red-Queen (~Aqiton~ as Brand had named it in Aslanta). What if they came from another world?   On a whim, I wandered with Aeosel abreast from the gatherhood while dusk darkened the rain. Along the floating street, the path led to one of the Marshfarthing’s many boughbridges spanning the canals. Its underneath drew my sight, since here was one of the few such steads under the walkways that could fit my height. Straightway a sewer mouth drew my eyes to the far far side, which stemmed from the neighboring landberg mounded higher than this side. I began following the row of mounds along the canal, peeking under bridges ere I overcrossed.   I cam almost to the Seagate, where the cliff foot rises to the Stormshield's Lower Shoulder, among the wealthier warehouses, when I spotted a floodwrack shard sodden under a boughbridge. From some oddness, it caught my eye. I halted, peered underneath, and watched.   Anon, the floodwrack, seeming net and rope, stirred. Something lay ensnared.   I clambered down the bank, which was not steep but rather slippery, with Aeosel in arm. Owing to the shipwork we had done, I wore a mere loincloth and thus had little to besmirch. Happily, the floodwrack stuck aside, and I needed not outwade to reach it. Unhappily, the tangle had stilled while I neared, as if the snared thing would hide and let me go, making me wonder if I had dreamed the stir. I falteringly neared, since a fear grew: if indeed something lay snared, it might be a wildthing ready to strike thoughtlessly if I tried to help. Yet I beheld a furry limb within the rotten, slimy network, even as it tried to withdraw from sight.   Wiseless of the fear, my whims proved strong. I brooked a soulcraft I had first learned after we found Brand and the Aslanta and shaped a speech-dwimmer. Then I reached forth and touched the quailing limb. ~O’kei di doelf,~ I swore: “On my oath I will not wound you.” Then I asked: ~Dei romi neamif?~ - “May I help?”   I waited while stillness grew after my word, fearing the hiding had not understood. Yet then a snout rose from the tanglewrack. Its mouth opened, and a ruthful chirp rang. And yet, under the speech-dwimmer, it meant a word: help.   More hastily than I should, I set Aeosel on the upper bank, bade him stay, and then came back to the tangle. Against my fear of dark water and things lurking within, I waded into the canal and shoved the wrack further up the bank. Then I knelt to reckon the snare, and also this unknown wretch I would save. Thus I beheld it had not along a whiskery snout, furry face, but also shiny dark eyes. Furthemore, it wore a long hood, a share whereof had snarled with the wrack. Daintily I unwound the cloth, and loosened its fuzzy limbs, whose hands were fingery with thumbs, right like ours.   I untied the last snarl from the whiskerling’s foot, whereat it scrambled free to bank. It stood breathless: wary, but also much aware, doubtlessly wise. It watched both me and Aeosel, whomto I withdrew to hold, although he wished to touch the new thing. So we reckoned each other: two people who dared not trust.   At last while the stillness stretched, I asked: ~Dei ollaesa?~ - “Are you all right?” The furry thing blinked, and then falteringly nodded. Then, as swyness again stretched, I touched my breast: ~Ve Vaeol,~ I begreeted, and then twisted open hand forth beseechingly. Under my speech-dwimmer, the whiskerling spoke a word I understood as Leaper, which I betook as its name. Yet how it forsoothly uttered it I cannot repeat. It followed with a manifold spell outyielding thankfulness, by which I read a cultured self from well-grown couthness, even if such matched not quite ours. It then followed another word bemeaning merely Folk, but which rather sounded like ~Isoqi~. Was that is clan? Its kind?   Then came another old halt while we each again reckoned the next deed. Bywardly it stepped rearward, waited as if reckoning my answer, and then backed again. It headed away upstream, but looked over shoulder to me. Although it might be uncouth, and against all I knew, the thing might wish peaceful leave, I followed maybe ten strides behind, carrying Aeosel.   The whiskerling afrighted not, although every many strides it glanced backward, watching my forthness. I neither shifted nor hid after the next sixty Shota-strides, but kept the same length, sometimes walking on dry bank or water knee-deep while I bore Aeosel. At last, at the canal’s head we reached a sewer mouth great than the first, and tall enougbh I could likely intread while stooping. I wondered whether the whiskerling would go in. Yet it halted and eyed me worrisomely while I bedreamed following inside and what I might find. It seemed ready to ask a question.   Anon I heard Remaue’s throat calling my name, and Kaure’s thunder after. ~O’heieni vusya-shyaeli,~ - “Go in peace,” I bade the whiskerling. ~Mei delinave,~ - “I leave you now.   At my word, the whiskerling quickly nodded and dashed into the sewer. At the same time, six shapes about the canal’s head stirred. Shakenly I beheld those others, craftily hidden, follow their fellow and fade into shadow, which deed flushed a thought: what would have happened if I had dared to follow further?   After I found Remaue and Kaure, they named me ~Shilaze doshe komorante~ - Mad komori-stricken bookworm - and led me back to the Raumoeva shipyard. We withheld tale of where we had gone from the others, although I whispered to Minal: ~Sholdaf veraza-sara,~ - “I found your thieves.” When she asked more, I outlaid they are wantsome but not evil, and that likely hopelessness drives them to theft. Her house will set a tighter ward on the underbridges and sewer mouths, which may likely forbid more sin.   In the end, I would name these reckful things not ~Dahazu~, but ~Dahaza~, since I deem them more folklike than beastlike. I have heard tale of a lorewarden who seeks their knowledge and wonder whether I should meet her. Yet I ask myself what would become these whiskerlings’ doom if I drew more mind to them. These things’ newly aware neighbors might not be so thankful. I have witnessed what hatred can work when it overtakes a group.
Recap: Lady Vaeol met Minal, Oshis's half-sister, and the Raumoeva sea-wanderers.
Lashunta Words & Phrases:
  • Mauhaue (fem): Upper-Strather; from the upper Yaro Valley; yokel; hick
  • Huaua (3rd-pers comm): flaunt; is/are flaunting
  • Ossura (anim acc): thew; muscle
  • Tiqidami (spir): Idlesting; Lashunta version of 'the Savored Sting'; epithet for Calistra
  • Oeo'shori (conjunctive imperative): and bring
  • Zirrye (fem acc): pet; plaything
  • Dahazu (anim): whiskerling; rat; Ysoki
  • Aqiton: Lashunta rendition of Akiton
  • O'kei (adv): on oath; on my oath
  • Di (adv): not
  • Doelf (1st-pers cond trans): I/we would/may wound
  • Dei (adv): interrogatative particle
  • Romi (aux adv): let; allow
  • Neamif (1st-pers cond trans): I/we would/may help
  • Ollaesa (2nd-person com intrans): you are all right
  • Ve (fem): I; we; 1st-person feminine pronoun
  • Isoqi: Lashunta rendition of Ysoki
  • O'heieni (adv): in peace
  • Vusya-shyaeli (honor imp): go; stir; move
  • Mei (adv): now; here; inclusive adverb
  • Delinave (1st-pers fem intrans): I/we leave
  • Shilaze (fem): book-hoarder; bookworm; nerd; geek
  • Doshe (fem): mad; crazy
  • Komorante (fem): Komori-stricken
  • Sholdaf (1st-pers perf trans): I/we found
  • Veraza-sara (comm acc): your thief(-ves)

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