The Slime Farmer 87 Flight To Ecthys

Though disappointed, Defi did not have more than a night to lament that Leraine's cousin was still giving him misfortune. Sarel unceremoniously roused him from his pre-dawn meditation with the Current that went hand in hand with healing the land under the sansu trees.

He was immensely relieved that he'd milked the slimes first, not willing to brave the colder air outside the house this morning, or he'd have to make the woman wait over an hour as he did the morning ch.o.r.es. 

He did a last survey of the house as Sarel made a quick breakfast, doing a last tidying up and distributing the kilograms of hybrid Naranj herb he'd harvested yesterday, before shouldering his travelsack and following Sarel to the pier.

He took Turq with him, giving Mite the rest of the zaziphos that was in the storage barrels.

Defi had placed more than one day's feed in all the slime baskets, as he wouldn't be present to feed them tomorrow. He didn't think they would mind if they missed a meal or two, in any case. He'd been feeding them over ten times their bodyweight every day. 

They had survived a day or two without feeding before.

He s.h.i.+fted in the sailboat, hiding a yawn and a s.h.i.+ver, even as he peered forward toward a particular landmark in the distance. 

It was a cliff, just like any other cliff in the Lowpool. He only knew what particular cliff it was because he'd been thoroughly lectured on its minute differences from other cliffs in the vicinity. Sarel had made him take the tiller, and was keeping an eye on the lines. 

The air over the lake was even colder, and the speed of the dinghy over the water made the icy wind lash harshly over unprotected skin.

Sarel frowned at him. "You need warmer clothing. That coat won't keep the winter out, even with the warming Emblems of your house."

He nodded. 

He was aware. There was a list of things a household needed for winter that Aire gave him when he asked, together with the list of things she wanted him to acquire in the city.

The list of things she swore he needed was unexpectedly long enough that he feared all the profit from Bluzand would be spent getting ready for winter.

Defi tugged his scarf higher on his cheeks with an inaudible sigh. 

The scarf was something he had gotten made at a seamstress shop in the Lowpool. He'd seen the Gamber Blades and Major il Vons, plus several of the retired soldiers, wearing lengths of cloth around their necks and had eagerly questioned a few people as to where they could be acquired. 

The soldiers' neckcloths, called scarves, were mainly worn as something to clean the face and wipe off sweat but Defi had quickly adopted the fas.h.i.+on to help keep warm.

It was something he would've never worn in Ontrea.

That the scarf he described to the seamstress could be reliably used to hide his lower face in a pinch was a provident extra benefit. The warming Emblems that had been carved into his coat's b.u.t.tons could not be applied in the same manner to the scarf, so it was one of the things Defi was going to Ecthys for.

It was knitted from quality wool, and thick enough to hold up semi-valiantly against the wind even without additions.

There were several warming Emblems in the public roster of designs put out by the guild of glyphmakers, but they were all too high-leveled for his current skill. Warming Emblems were third-level designs.

Defi was near to recreating Jast's test, and therefore nearly as skilled as second-level glyphmakers. Third-level Emblems were out of his reach.

"We're here."

Defi stood to help dock the dinghy at a familiar pier. Then sun had already lifted itself above the eastern horizon, but it was still early enough that the mists in the tree-studded cove that Marmocha built his home in hovered thick about the landscape.

Marmocha was talking to several people as they approached the house. One of the men flinched as he saw them come unexpectedly out of the mists.

"Sarel! Defi!" The man beamed after he whirled to see what had shocked his companions. "I expected you in the afternoon."

Even with words of rebuke, his eyes were warm.

Sarel shrugged in apology. "Things came up."

Defi glanced at her. She'd not answered his questions on why they had to travel so early, and there was only so far he was willing to push an elder to whom he owed his life.

Greetings out of the way, Defi discreetly eyed the people Marmocha had been talking to who were casually ambling away in the manner of people who did not want to be acknowledged.

A familiar stride; he had seen Garun do the same. Defi's thoughts churned, straying into paths he'd long put aside as baseless fantasy.

"I'll need a small while to ready the carriage," Marmocha was saying, concluding the discussion he was having with Sarel. "Won't you come in for some food before we leave? I have some preserves that might be of interest."

Defi took a single cup of lemon water to be polite, then left the two to talk. He wanted to watch the winged goats be harnessed. He tucked Turq into the curve of an arm.

The stables had several stable-hands, and they were taking the carriage and the goats outside the stables to be harnessed. Defi stopped close by one of the goats and started petting its wings gently.

 "The carriage-box is able to float by itself," The stablemaster Omfe explained when he saw Defi's interest. "It is kept steady by a series of Emblems. I believe also to prevent collisions with the ground or buildings. No," he laughed. "I don't know the configuration. It is a secret of the glyphmaker's guild."

The wings of the goats were too large to be able to fly side by side, so a team of four or five were harnessed in a formation similar to geese.

It was not a simple thing to harness a wing-carriage, with all the tack involved.

"Wouldn't it be easier to fly astride the goat?" Defi lifted a thick braid of rope to untangle it from a dozen other braids. It only made the tangle tighter. He scowled at the ropes. He'd been trying to fix the tangle for some minutes now.

"It would. But mestre Marmo needs the s.p.a.ce of the carriage." Omfe took the knot from him and with a few deft twists, the braided ropes fell apart.

Defi gaped. What was this magic?

Omfe chuckled, his bright green eyes crinkling. "Besides, riding the skyroads is cold even at the height of summer."

There were always downsides.

"There are smaller carriages for one or two people, which would not need so complicated a harnessing." Omfe gave him back the ropes and returned to his work. "The government gives out permits more easily to those, than the larger carriages."

Omfe patted the carriage fondly. 

Ascharon prohibited using winged animals in trade unless in certain circ.u.mstances, like the exemption for sea merchantry or the grand blue eagles that were bred by a former empress. Even then, the sky-trade was greatly regulated.

Large carriages like the one Marmocha owned, which looked s.p.a.cious enough for four people, especially with the man flying here and there on a whim, would often be under suspicion of illegal trade. 

He stood back and let Omfe activate the emblem to float the carriage. The stablemaster did another inspection, eyes keen and careful as he looked for anomalies.

"Gosseu," Omfe called. One of the stable-hands looked up from inspecting the harnesses around a winged goat and jogged over. "The inside."

Omfe turned to him. "Gosseu is going to be the coachman for this trip."

The coachman Gosseu had black hair, sun-kissed skin, and a wide smile under amethyst eyes. A young man in his early twenties. He eagerly inspected the inside of the carriage, testing several hidden drawers and dusting every surface.

He plopped himself into the coachman's seat, which was a closed part.i.tion at the very front of the carriage, and saluted Omfe and Defi. "All ready and waiting to go!"

Omfe nodded, with a sigh. 

Defi was glad the carriage was finally harnessed, with the goats standing around it in the yard. He was having second thoughts about acquiring one for himself.

Hah, he mocked his indecisiveness, only months out of Rimet and he was getting lazy and dull. What a fine former n.o.ble scion he was.

Omfe sent one of the stable-hands to call Sarel and Marmocha, while Defi followed to retrieve his travelsack.

The luggage was soon squared away, there being more than enough room.

The inside of the carriage was upholstered well, and comfortable. Marmocha waved Sarel and Defi in first, talking to Omfe and Gosseu.

Defi sat himself across Sarel, the seats of the carriage facing each other.

Marmocha heaved himself into the cus.h.i.+oned seat beside Defi. Omfe closed the door. Defi saw him step back and make a motion to Gosseu. Wings flapped, one after another, and the already floating carriage lifted more off the ground.

"Is it long to Ecthys?"

"Two, three hours, the sky-roads s.h.i.+ft a little, depending on the winds." Marmocha made himself comfortable on the seat.

"We're stopping by your place first," Sarel added, taking a book out from the small bookshelf she pulled out from under her seat.

Defi tilted his head to read the t.i.tles, then grabbed one that looked promising before she snapped the bookshelf closed.

Her words registered. His brow twitched. "You could have gone back for me instead of dragging me across the lake before dawn."

"Hm? Oh, you're right." Sarel's absentminded answer exasperated Defi. "Well, you were useful with the boat."

Marmocha snickered from beside him. "Was he?"

These were the adults he most trusted in this other world, Defi thought in mild despair. There was Garun, but the old man was doing his own things in the south.

Defi leaned into the thick gla.s.s window, an unopened book in his lap and Turq on his head, watching the fis.h.i.+ng boats on the lake below.

"Should we bring everything, or just the vinegar?" There was no other reason to return to the homestead but the barrels of slime extract.

"How many barrels do you have?"

"Eleven full quartels."

Marmocha nodded and hummed. "We could lash some of them to the roof above. The carvings will hide them from street-level view."

Defi smiled wryly. It wasn't like Marmocha had ever hidden his streak of slightly gleeful lawbreaking.

"I'll need a guide." He was not blind. He could see that Sarel was preoccupied, and likely would be busy when they got to the city.

"You wouldn't be able to do much sightseeing in a day and a half." Sarel looked up from where she was abstractedly turning the pages of her book without reading them.

"I have things to acquire for the orphanage. Also, like you said, I need more clothes."

A corner of Sarel's lips lifted. "Aire has never given me lists since the first time she attempted to reroute my travels and failed."

"I do not mind."

She made a wordless sound and held out her hand.

Defi took the first folded paper from his inner jacket pocket.

Sarel looked over it, nodded. "I'll take care of it. We'll be going back by caravan."

Defi opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again. They were going to be in Ecthys only briefly. Splitting up the things to do was the logical choice.

"So cold, it's like I'm being abandoned." Marmocha s.n.a.t.c.hed Turq off Defi's head and hugged him, dramatically despondent. "What am I, eh? You think I can't carry all your souvenirs?"

Sarel raised a brow and pa.s.sed him the list.

The very first item struck him in the heart. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Ten cental? Chelua," he read through the long list, looking faint, "this will kill my darlings, break their wings." 

He shoved the list back at Sarel. "Take it, take it! I retract my objection."

Defi ignored the man's hysterics, rummaged through his travelsack for the pouch of coin Aire gave him. He handed it over. Sarel stuffed the list into it and tossed it into her own bag.

Turq slipped out of Marmocha's hold to bounce to Defi's shoulder.

"Hey! Ah, even the pets are leaving me…"

"You don't want to hug him too long," Defi said direly, thinking about yesterday. He patted Turq, who was burrowing into his scarf.

Eh, he probably couldn't have swayed the blacksmith to his view long enough to buy the tools he needed, if the man was much like his relative.

He did hope the only blacksmith shop in the Lowpool didn't blacklist him from their premises though.

"I'll still need a guide," Defi leaned back against the seat.

"What do you take me for?" Marmocha rallied. "I'm not the one to leave an innocent lamb in the slaughterhouses that are the city streets."

"Very descriptive." Defi had never been a lamb though.

He settled to ask questions about the first Ascharonian city he would ever see, the clear blue lake below them reflecting an endless sky, and the beating of large wings above them sounding with soothing regularity.