Letters to Eksovaham, Chapter 2

Today we'll follow Esmar, as she returns to Ethoa with her brother.

II. Esmar

“She was pretty nice,” Esmar said as the two stepped off the boat and back onto the port.

“Vosa’s a good friend.” Avram agreed, “And her boat always smells nice, which is rarer than you’d think.”

“I noticed that too. What was that smell? It was, uh, earthy? Maybe a little bitter, but in a good way.” Esmar said.

“I’m quite confident it was theovis,” Avram said.

“In that case” Esmar replied, “I’ve never been more certain of anything that it wasn’t that.” Her brother rolled his eyes and smiled. She paused for a short moment before saying, “Do you want to tell me what theovis is?”

“I actually have some on me.” Avram swung his bag around in front of him as they walked down the port. “It’s a forest root, it– uhh” He struggled a little switching his attention between looking where he was going so he could avoid running into people, and rummaging through his bag until he pulled out a small cloth sack tied closed with with a bow. When he untied it, a small puff of powder faded into the air, and Esmar’s nose was hit with the strong smell.

“Oh!” Esmar turned her head away from the sack and covered her nose with her garments.  “We might need to air out the sea.” It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell, it was just too strong for her tastes.

Avram laughed at his sister and retied the bag of the ground root. Just before stepping off of the port, Esmar watched as Avram rushed over to a small merchant boat. He cut off two finger lengths of his whitestring, and handed it to the shopkeeper in exchange for another small sack that he placed in his bag. He smiled, nodded to the merchant, and rushed back over to Esmar before continuing to walk back onto dry land.

“Whaddya get?” Esmar asked with a look of mischief.

Avram blushed and smiled, and then shrugged in response to her question.

Esmar lightly elbowed her elder brother.

Avram offered a few words, “Nothing of importance.”

“If you say so,” Esmar said, smiling.

They began walking down the path that went back to Ethoa. Their town was located near the eastern edge of the peninsula, but they had been visiting the northern port, so the walk back would last a candle’s time. This journey although not especially difficult would be significantly worse than the journey to the port, because the pair would be walking uphill, and because their bags were heavier than when they had arrived, now filled with rice, flatbread, and more string from the spices Avram sold.

Esmar wasn’t paid as an apprentice fisher, although she was given plenty of food, as the fishing ceremony involved the fishers being gifted a blessing from the baskets they carried.

The terrain of the walk back was consistent once they had walked a fair distance from the water. Fields of tall pink grass dotted with blue trees, cut by the dirt path they walked on. There were farmers in these areas marked by their homes and their well-kept crops.

“All of that is flax.” Avram waved his arm to gesture toward the crop fields on their 

west.

“I know,” Esmar said. Her brother would sometimes tell her information she already knew. This one was somewhat justifiable as she didn’t often opt to wake up far before sunrise to join her brother on the walk to the port. But honestly how ignorant did Avram think she was? Everyone knows what flax looks like.

Esmar gestured to the area above her. “All of that is sky.” She grinned and looked at her brother.

“Are you sure?” He said. “I was quite certain it wasn’t– let me rephrase that– I’ve never been more certain of anything that it wasn’t.”

Esmar chuckled.

Their legs grew tired as the slope tilted ever so slightly upward. Esmar frequently adjusted her bag to put less weight on her shoulders. They passed by a woman who knelt towards Avram, placing one hand under her eye. Avram nodded to her, but he looked uncomfortable. Esmar so easily forgot that her brother was a Paktevta. The scars on his face must have been more visible to those who didn’t see him so often.

When they finally reached the peak of the hill that placed their city within vision, they paused. Avram looked at their town. Many people were standing in formation by the Eastern Gate, holding banners that couldn’t be seen as they were perpendicular to the siblings.

Avram took up a stern tone as he told his sister, “Go to the western gate.” He took off his bag and gave it to her. “If any of the guards give you trouble tell them I’m your brother. Ask for Pa Iva if you have to.”

Esmar's heart raced. “Is everything okay?”

“It will be. But just in case I need you to get home and gather your things. Get my things too.”

“Where are you going?” Esmar asked.

“Pa Iva will want Paktevtas at the gate.”

And though his garments were not suited for running, Avram began jogging to the Eastern Gate.

Esmar stood at the top of the small hill, taking deep breaths. She gathered herself. She would be more useful in taking action than in losing composure.

She hid the bags by a tree and quickly prayed that they wouldn’t be stolen. Esmar didn’t often pray, but she would take all the help she could get. She decided to listen to her brother and began running to the Western Gate. Her pace had been far too quick as she found herself needing to slow down after only a few millicandles of time. Her legs were still tired from the walk to and back from the port.

Nevertheless, she continued pacing, and the town took up more and more of her vision. But soon enough, it had become clear that groups of tens of soldiers from the army were stationing themselves at each Gate. She felt tears coming to her eyes, but now was not the time to cry.

She was confronted with a choice. She could hide in these fields and wait. That’s what Avram would surely want her to do. She could go to the Western Gate, but she couldn’t see a scenario in which they would open it for her.

Avram was out of sight. Maybe he made it to the gate by now. Esmar rubbed her forehead hard with both her hands. She sat and began thinking of what would happen if she couldn’t get to her home. The objects she would never see again. Her bed. Her father’s garments. The acorn she picked up when she was three and had somehow kept ever since.

No. That wasn’t the right thing to think about. She had to think about what she did have, not what she would lose. She could retrieve the bags she had hidden. There was money in them. And food. No bedrolls, but she could make do with soft ground if she needed. She could return to the port and buy anything she needed. She would wait for her brother of course.

Would she see Avram again? Surely she would. They wouldn’t harm a Paktevta. Esmar took another deep breath to assure herself. Avram’s marks would protect him. If the army killed a Paktevta, word would spread across the sea, and the Importances would be oathbound to wage war again.

That’s why Avram said Pa Iva would want Paktevtas at the gate. There were plenty of troops to take the city, but they would need to think carefully about whether they wished to kill a Paktevta.

She heard footsteps approaching. She looked behind her. Two soldiers wearing wool and holding blades were walking towards her. When she spotted them, the taller one said in an accented voice not to move.

Esmar froze. She was a child. Well, an adolescent at least. They would not kill her. Would they? She hadn’t sworn any sacred promises.

“Stand. Slowly.” The shorter one said. Esmar complied. He felt for any metal on her body but found nothing.

“Come.” The taller one said. “No tricks” He glanced towards his sword.

Esmar shivered and stood slowly. Her heartbeat shook her whole body.

Each soldier grabbed one of her arms and began walking her to the Eastern Gate. Her legs moved of their own volition, carrying her in the direction the soldiers took her. She got a good look at the banners. They were blue, marked with the Asov circle.

Time flowed strangely. She seemed to arrive at the gate instantly. There were so many voices. Esmar took deep breaths to calm herself. “Listen!” She thought to herself. “Don’t be useless. Take in the information.”

She looked around. So many soldiers. She heard Avram’s friend’s voice. It was Pa Iva. “—kill her, then I’ll thrust myself upon your blade!”

The guards let her go, and she ran behind Pa Iva.

An old soldier wearing a headdress looked at the old man with the mustache beside Iva. He said in a slightly accented voice “We’ll leave you for today. But I advise you to improve your guard force. We expect a friendlier welcome upon our return.”

Esmar felt Pa Iva exhale with relief. They stood outside for several decicandles while the troops organized and began marching away. When they had journeyed out a considerable distance, they finally raised the gate.

Iva crouched down and faced her, “Esmar, are you alright?” Esmar nodded. “Okay,” Iva said. She began speaking with the old man. Avram wasn’t in sight. He might have been sent to another gate.

Esmar walked to her home in the center of town. She sat on a chair and looked at the wall, where her acorn rested, attached to a string. She inhaled the smell of the many spices in the room. She would go fetch her bags later. She found herself thinking that she should cry. But nothing would come out.