7. N #2
After a time, he nodded and passed over a single paper-wrapped object a bit smaller than a clay brick, and some smaller and brightly colored though worn-looking papers that Nora quickly tucked into her satchel.
Triana looked a question at her.
“Do you mind if we conduct a little business first?”
Nora said brightly, then steered them towards a side street.
Triana had no chance to respond before Nora swept them away.
Triana quickly became lost as Nora led them, chatting gaily about this and that, and guiding them from one street to another.
Triana had never had to try to conceal her movements, or try to evade someone following her, but she knew the theory.
Nora’s behavior fit the bill, particularly once she swept a brown cloak out of her satchel and over her shoulders.
Triana’s worry grew again. What is she playing at?
Triana wondered if she were the reason for this little cloak-and-dagger tableau, or Nora was using this outing as an excuse to get out of that walled building for her own reasons. The latter seemed certainly more interesting, if true.
She let herself be steered for some time and across distinctly different neighborhoods.
The social classes might live cheek by jowl, but the building styles and sizes had boundaries that looked to have been cut with a knife.
They left the poorer neighborhood, then crossed what Triana interpreted as moderately wealthy …
a better class of tradesmen and the like …
and crossed a street to smaller and shabbier dwellings.
Thirty feet and into a different world, this one of laborers.
They continued on another short distance until they came to another high-walled building, where Triana could hear …
was that children playing? She listened for a moment.
Yes, the high-pitched laughing and shrill shouting, the exuberance of young children, and the unpleasantness that went with it.
She acknowledged that she might have been born with one maternal bone, but …
if so, it had been taken, along with her ribs.
Nora made straight for the gate, and tapped lightly, then waited for a response. The gate opened and a woman stepped out. She embraced Nora warmly and quickly ushered them in.
The children swarmed around Nora, clearly delighted, and she knelt to give them all hugs, smiling happily.
Triana held back, awkward and uncomfortable.
Her own recent bout with a child’s disease would have made her wary on general principles, but she intensely disliked everything about children.
She swore under her breath, feeling a bit ill-used.
“You said a bad word.” A small voice came up from what felt like Triana’s knee-level. She looked down. A little girl.
Triana had no idea how to respond. She glared at the child, willing it away. The little girl ignored the glare.
“You’re very tall.”
“Yes,” she answered, while trying to catch Nora’s eye. She sent Nora a silent plea for help.
“My father was as tall as you. He died when the Monsters came.”
Nora, for her part, passed a handful of papers from her satchel to another woman, and came to rescue Triana, who was quite out of her depth.
Nora knelt down and gave the child a hug, holding her close for seconds longer than Triana thought strictly necessary.
Nora then took a few more papers from her satchel and pressed them into the girl’s hand.
“Now, my sweet, take this home to your mother, straight away. Directly home. Will you triple promise swear?”
The little girl made a very serious head bob.
“I triple promise swear!” They exchanged some kind of complicated cross-fingered gesture, what Triana guessed was “triple promise swear.”
These were children’s promises, made of clouds and air.
Then again, she thought dryly, so are most adults’.
One of the other women called the children away, and Triana watched as Nora passed over to her a sheaf of papers, covered in some kind of leather or oilskin, and tightly-wrapped.
Triana couldn’t hear the exchange, but saw the women accept the packet and nod quickly, her expression worried.
The two women embraced again and Nora returned to where Triana stood.
She glanced to where the woman stood, awkwardly handling the packet.
“Just some papers I need to have looked after.” Triana raised an eyebrow. And in a second, she’ll change the subject.
“Hungry?” Nora asked brightly. “We can return to Lord Haldeen’s stronghold if you are.”
As predicted. Triana thought it over. She was hungry, and in no mood to return just yet.
I haven’t seen any street vendors selling food since we left the square.
I haven’t smelled anything cooking, except for the rancid oil.
I haven’t seen any inns. This place is very strange.
Do they have a taboo against eating in public?
Triana studied her. Nora seemed less tense, so the sheaf of papers may have been the reason for the cloak-and-dagger routine, rather than a kidnapping or other action directed at her.
“Not yet” she replied. “Can we wander a bit? And can you tell me what these buildings are for as we pass them?”
She got no answer. Nora just continued to smile and led her out into the street.
Triana gave into her curiosity, as they walked together. “What was that all about? With the … children?”
Nora paused a moment before responding. “I used to teach there, when I was younger, so when I can, I come and visit friends.”
“Ah,” Triana replied in a neutral voice. “What were those papers you were giving the … children?”
Nora shrugged. “Ration coupons. The parents only draw one ration apiece, and that has to be divided up between them and their children. Some work extra to try and glean more rations, but it’s hard. It’s harder for the ones who have lost their husbands or wives … one parent, one ration. So,
food has to go further. There’s hunger here. I help where I can.”
Triana felt realization dawning. “When I heard the guards talking about earning their rations, I didn’t realize it was quite so literal. What do you do for things you want to buy, like clothes and jewelry?”
Nora shook her head. “Gold and silver are royal monopolies, private gold ownership is forbidden. It’s needed to make or buy weapons. Besides, you can’t eat gold. It’s food that has real value.”
Triana turned towards her. “So, the coupons are like gold here? Used the same way? To buy things?”
Nora nodded.
“May I?” Triana said, holding out her hand.
Kilfenora passed her a worn piece of paper. Triana looked at it carefully. The front had a picture of a distinguished looking king, and what appeared to be “5 Rations.” The back included instructions for redeeming the paper.
“So this,” Triana said skeptically, “is how you buy and sell? On these little pieces of paper?”
“Yes,” Nora replied.
Triana considered the idea carefully. Bizarre. “I don’t think this will ever catch on, Nora. I mean, with gold, you know what you’re dealing with. One quick test, and you know it’s spell-wrought or genuine. This is just a promise.”
Nora opened her mouth to reply, then must have thought better of what she was about to say.
Triana moved in for the kill. “I mean, if I have a gold coin, then I have a gold coin. But if you have a piece of paper, that’s all it is. Are there enough … rations … to go around for all these pieces of paper?”
Nora looked at her, her brow furrowed in thought.
“I really don’t know.” She brightened again.
Triana had seen this before, as Nora slid away from an unpleasant topic.
Or maybe she’s avoiding a topic she is not allowed to talk about.
Still. What if there weren’t enough rations to be redeemed by all the coupons?
She didn’t know. Of all the things back home, the one thing that troubled no one except those slaves with owners who did things purely for the cruelty of it was starvation.
“There is a place nearby where we can buy something to eat.”
It was Triana’s turn to be thrown off “You use ration coupons for that?”
“Yes,” Nora relied.
Triana laughed. “So, you pay with food to get food? How does that work?”
“You’ll see,” Nora replied.
She led Triana down a side street to a small establishment with several tables, and where a male elf greeted Nora happily.
More hugs. No wonder they get sick, Triana thought caustically.
Nora sat down and gestured for Triana to sit.
Nora took the paper-wrapped brick out of her satchel, along with a sharp knife.
She unwrapped the brick to reveal a brownish-white loaf.
“This is what you eat?” Triana said, looking skeptically at the brick. “This is food?” I thought what they were giving me for meals was bland. This is worse than bland.
“Yes,” Nora replied, “It’s spell-wrought. Most food is these days.” She gave Triana a half smile. “You look like a bug crawled into your tea. You’re eating it too. Every day, usually broken into a powder, dried, and then reconstituted with flavorings.”
Triana looked skeptically at it, recalling her lessons from home.
“You can’t Make food. It’s impossible. You can make an illusion, but ashes and water are still ashes and water. You can transform things, like flowers and grass, into something that looks and tastes better, but it still has the same value to your gut as flowers and grass.”
Hmm … maybe that’s not right. I do seem to recall that someone I knew could make things taste sweeter.
Was that an illusion, or did she really transform things?
Nora shrugged. “And yet, here we are.” She broke a tiny piece off and offered it to Triana.
“Bland, yes. Illusion, no.” She laughed as Triana took it, clearly expecting it to turn to ash in her fingers.
“I don’t know the precise workings of it, but I know it’s a form of transmutation … taking one thing that is almost like it, and turning it into another thing almost like the first.”
She laughed a bit. “And that represents most of what I remember about the magic types from school. I don’t have that ability.”
She shrugged. “Most of the Great Houses are taxed in food. They have rooms full of the people who would probably be farming if there weren’t Predators outside the walls. So, they make these bricks instead, and this is what most people live on.”
An elf approached the table and exchanged a few words with Nora.