useful in such a task. Finally, you are also the most accomplished Bhikhu student I have trained in many, many years. I think you are ready.”
Paedrin flushed with pride. “As accomplished as Aboujaoude?”
“He was accomplished and humble. You, my son, are ambitious. And proud. And your feet smell strongly of dung, if I am being perfectly honest.” There was a gleam in his eye that made Paedrin grin in response.
“Tell me more of this assignment, Master. I have heard of Tyrus of Kenatos. Tyrus Paracelsus, as he is called. He is an important patron of the temple. They say he was raised in an orphanage too, one run by the Rikes.”
“I believe so,” Master Shivu said. “That was long ago. He shares his great wealth with us, with this temple, to settle a debt he believes he owes us.”
Paedrin smirked. “For a wise man, he is foolish. What debt could he owe us?”
Master Shivu smiled. “As you well know, there is no true debt. It is as with the girl; he believes he owes it. What was given was given freely. What was lost was lost freely. You must safeguard his niece. See her safely on her journey.”
Paedrin wrinkled his brow. “Where are we going, Master? Not Silvandom, surely.”
The bell attached to the outer doors rang, sending a shudder through the walls. The temple did not receive many visitors, so everyone would be wondering who it was.
Master Shivu turned and looked back at him, as if he were being especially dense. “That may be a messenger from Tyrus. You leave at dawn for Havenrook. It is the seat of Romani power.” He reached out and rested his hand on Paedrin’s shoulder. “It is a dangerous town, Paedrin. Even the road leading there through the woods is dangerous. Be careful. You are used to the laws and customs of Kenatos. They will not be the same there. You are used to the city and its shops, food, and mix of people and races. It will not be the same out there. Remember your training. Remember the ways of the Uddhava.”
With a self-satisfied smile, Paedrin bowed to his master. “Thank you for choosing me. I will not disappoint you.”
Master Shivu turned to the main doors as the bell sounded again. There was something in his eyes that Paedrin could not make out. It was a look that was almost anxious. “We do this as a favor to Tyrus Paracelsus to help secure a young woman’s freedom. Not for any reward. Remember that, Paedrin.”
“There is an occupation prevalent in nearly every kingdom called a ‘Finder.’ It is actually a shortened name from a Preachán word that is practically meaningless now, as the Preachán have adopted the Aeduan tongue as their own. A Finder is trained to ‘find’ what is lost—be it a person, an object that is stolen, or a safe path through the maze of the city. They even have a guild. Finders also exist in the wilderness, and their services are highly prized and well paid. It was said by one of the wise ancients that it is the very perfection of a man to find out his own imperfections. In a sense, that is what Finders do, but to others, not themselves. Even the tiniest impression of a boot heel can bring a criminal to justice or retrieve that which is lost. The most subtle and patient are the best Finders.”
– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
H ettie returned to her barren sleeping chamber and sat down on the reed mat, leaning back against the rough stone wall. Master Shivu had chosen a Vaettir to be her companion on the journey to Havenrook. It was a disaster in one sense, but a workable one. He was quick to speak and take offense. That made him a danger to himself and to her goal.
She rubbed her eyes, trying to clamp down her burgeoning resentment. The meeting with Tyrus had not gone as she expected. The stay at the temple had not either. There was so much to accomplish in so short a time. Her fingers strayed to her left earlobe, untouched by a pinprick or an earring. She had a fortnight to win her freedom. It almost seemed too much
Paedrin flushed with pride. “As accomplished as Aboujaoude?”
“He was accomplished and humble. You, my son, are ambitious. And proud. And your feet smell strongly of dung, if I am being perfectly honest.” There was a gleam in his eye that made Paedrin grin in response.
“Tell me more of this assignment, Master. I have heard of Tyrus of Kenatos. Tyrus Paracelsus, as he is called. He is an important patron of the temple. They say he was raised in an orphanage too, one run by the Rikes.”
“I believe so,” Master Shivu said. “That was long ago. He shares his great wealth with us, with this temple, to settle a debt he believes he owes us.”
Paedrin smirked. “For a wise man, he is foolish. What debt could he owe us?”
Master Shivu smiled. “As you well know, there is no true debt. It is as with the girl; he believes he owes it. What was given was given freely. What was lost was lost freely. You must safeguard his niece. See her safely on her journey.”
Paedrin wrinkled his brow. “Where are we going, Master? Not Silvandom, surely.”
The bell attached to the outer doors rang, sending a shudder through the walls. The temple did not receive many visitors, so everyone would be wondering who it was.
Master Shivu turned and looked back at him, as if he were being especially dense. “That may be a messenger from Tyrus. You leave at dawn for Havenrook. It is the seat of Romani power.” He reached out and rested his hand on Paedrin’s shoulder. “It is a dangerous town, Paedrin. Even the road leading there through the woods is dangerous. Be careful. You are used to the laws and customs of Kenatos. They will not be the same there. You are used to the city and its shops, food, and mix of people and races. It will not be the same out there. Remember your training. Remember the ways of the Uddhava.”
With a self-satisfied smile, Paedrin bowed to his master. “Thank you for choosing me. I will not disappoint you.”
Master Shivu turned to the main doors as the bell sounded again. There was something in his eyes that Paedrin could not make out. It was a look that was almost anxious. “We do this as a favor to Tyrus Paracelsus to help secure a young woman’s freedom. Not for any reward. Remember that, Paedrin.”
“There is an occupation prevalent in nearly every kingdom called a ‘Finder.’ It is actually a shortened name from a Preachán word that is practically meaningless now, as the Preachán have adopted the Aeduan tongue as their own. A Finder is trained to ‘find’ what is lost—be it a person, an object that is stolen, or a safe path through the maze of the city. They even have a guild. Finders also exist in the wilderness, and their services are highly prized and well paid. It was said by one of the wise ancients that it is the very perfection of a man to find out his own imperfections. In a sense, that is what Finders do, but to others, not themselves. Even the tiniest impression of a boot heel can bring a criminal to justice or retrieve that which is lost. The most subtle and patient are the best Finders.”
– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
H ettie returned to her barren sleeping chamber and sat down on the reed mat, leaning back against the rough stone wall. Master Shivu had chosen a Vaettir to be her companion on the journey to Havenrook. It was a disaster in one sense, but a workable one. He was quick to speak and take offense. That made him a danger to himself and to her goal.
She rubbed her eyes, trying to clamp down her burgeoning resentment. The meeting with Tyrus had not gone as she expected. The stay at the temple had not either. There was so much to accomplish in so short a time. Her fingers strayed to her left earlobe, untouched by a pinprick or an earring. She had a fortnight to win her freedom. It almost seemed too much
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