Tivi's Dagger Read Online Free PDF Page A

not
to mention the finest wardrobe – now to be seen trudging along
behind a donkey on a rocky mountain path sporting muddied leathers
and a dismal brown pilgrim’s tunic. The situation could not be any
worse. I would be a laughing stock, and would surely not hear the
end of jokes about “filthy adventurers” – the travelling,
sword-for-hire types upon whom the nobility of Azmara looked down
from great heights.
    I was no stranger to travel, but even in the
most basic surroundings I had always prided myself on maintaining
at least a modicum of style and grooming. From what I had learned
from others who had undertaken such a journey, it appeared that
pilgrims were required to show their devotion by being dirty and
unkempt at all times, concerned only with spiritual matters. Taking
in the mountain landscape around me, I comforted myself with the
thought that at least there were few about who would see me in such
a dismal condition.
    Lana was striding along at the front with
Brin and Kari while Kel led the donkey back down to the bottom of
the path, where Matativi’s statue sat staring blindly into the
distance, the dagger tucked once more behind its back. We turned
left onto a narrow path which maintained a gentle downhill
trajectory. The air was lush and smelt of rain on pine leaves and
the mist had lifted a little, revealing thick forest to the left
side and a plunging drop on the other. When the pebbles I kicked
went over the edge, their fall was a distant rattle.
    Snippets of conversation drifted to my ears
over the crunch of my boots and the song of morning birds.
    “ So you know a little of our
language,” Kari was saying to Lana.
    “ When I was a girl my family employed
a nanny who hailed from these parts. She spoke of Methar often and
sadly, as if she could never return home. I never really understood
why.”
    Kari scratched his chin, deep in thought.
“Perhaps she was a criminal or an apostate, an outcast. Only the
truly desperate among us seek employment in Lis.”
    Brin’s hands formed fists, but he said
nothing.
    Lana tugged at her long braid thoughtfully.
“Perhaps. But I do not understand. We also do not favor your God,
yet you freely allow us passage through your land.”
    Kari seemed to consider Lana’s words
for a moment. “There is an old saying here, selire meteen . It means something like look to your own . The affairs and
beliefs of outsiders do not concern us. But for those who have
turned their backs on our Lady, Methar can be a cold
place.”
    “ Perhaps it is not so different from
Lis after all,” Lana said with a sidelong glance at my brother,
then began making safer conversation about the beautiful scenery
around us and the different birds and beasts she hoped to see on
our journey. Thoroughly depressed, I tuned out Lana’s gay chatter
and listened to the rush of a nearby stream and the silence of the
mountains that loomed all around us.
    On a normal day back in Azmara I would not
yet have arisen from my bed. The servants would be laying out the
finest silks and leathers for me to don before I would indulge in a
long and lazy lunch on my balcony, gazing out over the harbor where
the trading boats were docked, a hive of colorful activity. When
the wind blew in from the east, it would carry the scent of spices
and fruit and jasmine. In the evening I would make my way to my
private rooms at the Duck and Swan where my friends — men and women
like me, heirs to nobles, idle and beautiful and completely lacking
in devotion — would be lounging on the plush cushions, eating fat
purple grapes from golden bowls. The innkeep would serve the finest
smuggled wines and any woman I chose, and then the evening would
begin — drinking games, filthy jokes that would have made the
Protectors’ ears wither and fall off, culminating in some wholesome
bedplay, should the whim seize us. All of which I was supremely
talented at, and enjoyed immensely.
    The beauty of being born into money meant
that as