The Totem-Maker (part one hundred two)

The Totem-Maker

Chapter Ten

Crafter Becomes Maker

(part one hundred two)

Noakale was by some means inspired to join our conclave; and Lord Ei, watching her down the hill, stopped a swift rise and sat—stone-faced again. I had not seen Noakale with her husband. The Prince kept his own seat, and she did not bow, but at his side said, “May I escape with Nur-Elom?”

“Do.”

I was taken off to better fun.

She sped me through three of the Balbaecan rooms, sweeping aside hanging skins and tapestries. I did not know the etiquette of this arrangement, and felt daunted even to peer around one…to discover whose privacy I invaded. But Noakale assumed the run of Lord Ei’s home.

We arrived at her chamber. “It is all gifts with me, rejoice! Today my treats are for you. One of irreplaceable value, with which I am going to trust you, and another very dear to me, for the many hours I’ve devoted to it.”

And if Noakale trusted me, I might exult upon that and ask my god’s forgiveness later. I waited while she rummaged in a chest.

“Ah,” I said. “A book.”

A bound book, a most painstaking thing to create, each page decorated in colored inks, each left-hand border stitched to the next with looped embroidery.

“I had said there was a story to my tribe, and this contains it.”

“It bears no curse of holiness?”

My face made her laugh. “Open it now before my witness. We shall both be struck dead, if your Ami, who is not my god, flings down his bolt!”

I opened it, and leafed it, keeping my fingertips from touching any of the text. No part of the story could I read. The lettering ran from top to bottom, odd to me.

“Why?” I said, simply.

Very self-pleased, she gave me her second gift, a smaller chest taken from the first. A tiny key was lodged in a tiny lock. I turned this, and found ribboned scrolls.

“How is your success at learning our language?” Her hands told me, pick one, unroll it.

I did, and began to understand. “Modest. But Depwoto can teach me nothing written, and he is busy with his soldiering. You are the maker of these scrolls? They give an alphabet to that tongue the Prince tells me is never set down? I may use your notes, then, to study the history…”

“Oh, more than that. The history is recorded in the language of the Citadel. Work steadily, Nur-Elom, and you may quietly spy upon them until you choose to speak.”

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Crafter Becomes Maker

The Totem-Maker (part one)

(2018, Stephanie Foster)