Seamus looked at the pile of various trinkets, toys and clothes strewn about the table and pulled the bag of wrapping materials closer. He sighed heavily and muttered to himself: "I sure hope that man has strong arms. Or a mule or two.." He shook his head ruefully, picked up one of the small magical eggs and carefully rolled it into the center of a girls’ cloak. The cloak was one of a set of three, made from colorful, soft, thick wool he had procured from the mainland. Katharina had done an excellent job sewing them, as always and he was confident they had gotten the sizes right between them.
This one, he hoped, would cheer up little Anthonya. It had hues of a deep, rich yellow and bright orange. The other two, one in a night sky’s purple tones and one in teal so dark it was almost black, would hide dirt stains and burn marks quite well.
The thought of Teilra and Branwen singing their cloaks while trying to blow up their brother Finn made him chuckle. He bound the roll with a bit of string, fixed a small piece of parchment with Anthonya’s name under it and set it down in the big wooden box at his feet, repeating the process two more times. He had coated the entire box in three layers of oiled cloth to keep out any water. Surely that would be enough for any delivery, by ship or on land.
He had to make sure to leave a little space for the amulets’ jewelry box. Oxiana should really hurry up. Recent events had made it increasingly clear that the need for protective charms for the children was more pressing than ever.
He didn’t know how to rework the ritual to include Anthonya, but he was reasonably sure that her addition to the family had been recent enough that the witch wouldn’t try to harm her and he didn’t think she would do anything so drastic as to get the girl caught in the crossfire.
The thought of Kyre made him clench his fists. He couldn’t fathom how any half decent person could leave their children behind, let alone abandon and neglect them time and again only to have the gall to harass and spread rumors about the woman who had sacrificed much of her time and invested all her heart to pick up the pieces and raise them in their mothers’ stead. If the gods were good, the beast would be consumed by a dragon and shat out to nourish the trees on her next walk through Runewick.
He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand across his face, shaking himself briefly. No, that wouldn’t do. Heinous cow or not, she was still the girls’ mother and they would hurt terribly if anything happened to her. There was nothing to do but keep an eye on them from the distance and make sure she couldn’t do any more harm than she already had.
He would keep a closer watch on Riniao too, for Era’s sake, but he couldn’t believe he would ever harm a child or even teenager, magical or not. He bit his lip, contemplating, but reaffirmed himself after a moment.
No, however much Riniao had been damaged, at the core of his scheming was the intense urge and wish to save and protect the innocent. His eyes wandered over to the desk, where the order for potions from Tialdin for RIniao sat, waiting to be sent and took a deep breath. Problems for another day.
He grabbed the fat wolf pup Katharina had helped him make for Kyros from the table and a grin spread across his face. Not exactly to proportion, the animal was about knee height – quite possibly taller than the boy himself - and plump as pudding. Katharina had fashioned it from the softest rabbits’ wool and stuffed it with down feathers. He had used the biggest clear sapphires he could find and set them in silver to create two smooth, luminous eyes. These would be enough to pay for a bit of food and shelter, should any misfortune befall Oxiana’s parents, keeping the children safe long enough for Finn to send for help from Galmair. He would make note of it in his letter to him.
Finn! He’d almost forgotten the books. He set the stuffed wolf down in the box next to the girls’ coats and rose, almost tumbling over the bag of cloth, wood chips and straw at his feet as he rushed over to his bed side table. He had collected all his books on magic lore, a romance novel he had found particularly descriptive and instructional and a big tome on the geography and cultural distribution of the Illarion mainlands. It hurt a little to let go of “Writings on the Ancient language” and an incredibly fascinating analysis by a wizard from Gobaith called Duchan an Infarion of what he called “Inner Runes”, but finding them with him would hurt Riniao and the girls would be able to use them for their studies in a few years.
Finn would find the cultural atlas interesting and the novel helpful, he knew, and keep the rest of the books safe until the time came that the girls could understand them. He bound the books together with a thick leather strap and put them down beside the stuffed animal.
Next came five little jute bags filled with dried fruits and nuts he had procured at the Hemptie harbor. The elven merchant selling them had assured him they would keep and be delicious for years and years due to a charm they used during production and he really hoped he hadn’t been lying.
Seamus had purchased a pound each of cherry, gooseberry, pineapple, banana, hazelnut, walnut and almond and it had cost him a pretty penny. He filled four little sacks with an even mix, adding a generous half pound or so to each bag before tying it off and putting it with the rest of the parcel. Kyros was too young for such things but he hoped Oxiana’s parents would appreciate the snack and so he took a fifth, much larger bag.
However, instead of simply filling it with the fruit mix, he added enough to fill the bag about half-way before taking a silk purse, thick enough to hide the sound of jingling gold coins within and placed it on top of the fruit before stuffing the rest of the sack to the brim and tying it off as well.
He had bought a special jewelry box from the thieves below Galmair that should cover the children’s amulets and make them look like cheap leather necklaces set with wooden pearls until Finn’s hands touched the clutch of the box, but they’d only had one such box and it was barely big enough to hold the four amulets.
He added the bag to the big box and took a step back, eyeing the package with a sheepish grin. Surely, one mule would be enough.
The man chuckled as he turned to the table once more. He had to put together the little wooden shelf contraption he had bought at the harbor that was meant for safely transporting wine. The thing would hold three decent sized bottles for Oxiana’s parents. He stuck the wooden pieces together as the dwarf at the harbor had instructed him and added a bit of straw to each chamber for padding.
The first bottle was a fine elderberry mead he had procured from a chubby halfling lass at the harbor in Runewick. She’d let him have a taste and it had reminded him of Era’s elderberry muffins, so he’d purchased several bottles. He hoped Oxiana’s mother would like the sweet, thick drink. His auntie and her gaggle of gossipy grannies always enjoyed such liquors most in his experience.
Next was a very strong brandy he had bought from a lizard thief in the Underground. Supposedly, it was made from some peculiar seaweed and having just a tiny sip of the fiery, dry beverage had made the hair at the nape of his neck rise in protest and the tip of his tongue curl up in a misguided and futile attempt at ducking for safety. He was sending the bottle along because he had heard old men enjoyed dry brandy – and Oxiana’s father, surely, would be ancient – but also because he suspected the ungodly liquid might melt not just through the floor of his apartment but quite possibly straight down through the core of the Galmair mountains and into Letma’s lair, should he ever drop the bottle.
In the third little shelf space, he put a bottle of fine elven wine that he had found quite relaxing. Gedwyn and he had enjoyed a bottle or two in the past while resting in front of the chimney and if it could calm down even that brash, bothersome, boisterous bully of a baker, surely it would suffice to help soothe Oxiana’s parents’ nerves after having to take care of the little fiends.
He closed the shelf, wrapped it in a bit of coarse, thick wool as padding and put it in the box together with the rest of the parcel. The wooden box was almost full. All that was to do now was add the jewelry box with the charms once it was done, pad everything with straw, nail it shut and send it off with the courier.
Seamus walked over to his desk and flipped open the huge notebook on top that served as his business ledger and calendar. His finger brushed across the page, coming to rest at the top and he blinked, startled. He’d had it in his head that his birthday had been barely a few weeks past, but it was already the 18th of Adras! Between all the trouble with Riniao, business and his training, time flew by it seemed.
It was too late then, to send the package off to arrive before the Naras storms and no courier would undertake the voyage during Mas. They would have to aim for a delivery during Chos then, which suited him well enough because it meant he would perform the ritual in Naras. While not particularly well suited for sea voyages, the winds would be an excellent, favorable catalyst for the magic he was due to perform. The only thing to do now then, was to get Oxiana in gear so they didn’t waste any more time.
“Well then,” he thought, closing the ledger and cracking his knuckles, “time to heat up the forge and wake up my dear lazy master.” He grinned fondly as he blew out the candles in the room, threw on his cloak and left the apartment, mindful to lock behind him.
