Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison) Subject: [Hostel] Breaking Point, Part 2 Message-ID: Date: Wed, 28 Apr 1993 02:13:58 GMT [ADMIN] If you want to actively use the West Side Hostel, or the Ale House, please write to me first, so I can give you details on either establishment. All characters herein are mine, please don't use them without getting permission first. ----- "Mommy, do we havta go home now?" The little boy stared up at his mother as she wrapped her scarf-shawl around her head. His nose was running again, she noticed, and she moistened a washcloth from the pitcher by the sink. "No, Leoni, I'm just going to talk with your father." "But won't he make you stay?" "No, dear, the sisters are sending a guard with me." Dahlina just stared from her corner, watching her mother as she washed her brother Leoni's face again, and set him on the floor. "You could take Gunk Dragon with you," Leoni offered, holding out his soft green stuffed toy. She shook her head `no' as it winked one large red eye at her - "No, Gunk is your dragon, I'll do fine. Now off to play-school." "Okay, mommie." Leoni skipped down the hall towards the childrens' class room, and Arienna sighed and went back into the room. Dahlina was still in her corner, still just sitting and staring. "What's wrong, Leena?" "Mommy, is the reason we aren't going with you cause you're afraid that Daddy would hurt us?" "Oh no, darling, it's just that it's easier to talk to him by myself, is all. Besides, it's the rule the sisters have. It just works out better this way." "I was afraid Daddy would be so mad we left that he'd kill us." "Dahlina, your Daddy loves you very much. You know that. He's just not very nice when he's drunk, and he was drinking more often." "I know, but I was scared." "Why?" "Cause of when Tori went back with her baby before the storm." "Who told you about that, Dahlina?" Arienna frowned, then gave her daughter a hug. "Toriquel came back only yesterday, these gossips are just too much. No, dear. Tori's stepdaddy isn't a very nice man, Tori shouldn't have gone alone. She was lucky the storm came, or he would have kept her there." "But our daddy won't do that, right?" "No, your daddy won't try to keep me from coming back." She smiled and thought, especially not with the guard with me. "Leena, why don't you go play with the other girls?" "They're just babies. They play with dragons an' things." "And you don't like the dragons?" "Well, Reeny fibs, she says the dragons talk." "Do they?" Arienna smiled, remembering the first day she joined the sewing circle, making stuffed dragons. "MOOOoom! they're toys, toys don't talk." Dahlina was outraged. "Not even magic toys?" Arienna chided, saddened inside that Dahlina was so cynical for a six-year-old. And her questions were too adult. "Who'd waste magic on a toy?" Dahlina rubbed out an imaginary spot on the floor with her toe. "Well, if you loved kids, would you want to make them something special?" "I spoze." "Well, there you are." Areienna tousled her daughter's hair affectionately, then straightened her dress and stood to go. "Mom?" "Yes?" "Did Tori's baby die because Tori was bad?" Arienna froze. She blinked, and swallowed, and when she spoke she knelt down beside Dahlina and spoke very gently. "No, darling. She died because she was hit on the head. It had nothing to do with Tori being good or bad, and it wasn't the baby's fault either, and don't you let anyone tell you otherwise." Dahlina pursed her lips and made a wet kiss on her mother's cheek. "Come back ok?" "I promise." Arienna went out into the hall, where the guard was waiting to escort her. The guard was a tall, redhaired woman with green eyes, and a no-nonsense sort of attitude. A sword hung at her side, throwing-stars and other more unusual weapons glinting around her. "We still don't advise this. He hasn't stopped coming, every day." "I know, but he has stopped drinking so much. Besides, I want him to know the kids are all right. They're his kids too, he deserves to know." She knew it wasn't true, she just had too see him again, for herself. The guardswoman kept her anger from her face, and replied sharply. "He deserves NOT to know - he needs motivation to change." "I know that. I'm not going back to him, not until he's been sober for more than a year." The guard looked surprised. "You're sure?" "I'm sure. He has to prove it to himself too." **** The street was a bustle of new building. There were parts that still looked shabby - the Buff' had been rebuilt first, but using the castoffs and debris from Low Town, as usual - except for one or two buildings that had been made from new lumber. The roving crews had started to put them together, and the Buff dwellers had been amazingly unhelpful, for reasons that became obvious, as the new wood warped and bent in strange and unnatural ways. The old wood somehow resisted the strange effects, and a number of sturdy, if shabby, buildings had replaced the aging shanties and heaps. They were going to rendezvous at the wellhouse. The city ran a small park there. The area was open, always in full view of people. The street vendors liked to stop their carts there, so they could sell fruit and fresh bread to the people as they came for drinking water. Four carts were there. The fruit and vegetable carts were not around, because there wasn't enough of either to sell from a cart. There were some Ramesh caravels due in next week, and the spring gardens would be recovered by the next week... Arienna listened absently to the gossip of the street vendors. She couldn't afford their wares anyway. Up the street four blocks was where her house had been, on the edge of Merchant's Hill by the Low Town. The apple tree was gone, and the hedge. There was a framework going up, from the distance she wasn't sure if it was going to be the same size or not. "Ranna. You look nice." She jumped. Her husband's voice had come from the street beside her. The guardwoman stepped between them, one hand poised on her sword hilt. He was standing on the cobbles a few feet away, wearing his work clothes, his hat twisted in a knot between his hands. "That's enough. You keep three strides distance between you." "Sorry," he replied, abashed. He stepped back. The crowds parted, leaving them room to talk, kept at bay by some unknown pressure. "Vic." Her voice was tight. She swallowed. "I've been sober since the day after you left." "That's not good enough any more. You did that before." "Well, hells, what do you want?" He nervously wrung on the hat, and Arienna frowned and stared at it until he stopped, abashed. "I want you to stop beating on me and the kids, and I want you to get a job and keep it. I want you to be happy too, but we can't do that if you keep on going out with those friends of yours." "You used to like them." "I was afraid of them, Vic." He had no reply - why hadn't she told him? Or maybe she had, once or twice. He no longer remembered. He coughed, and changed the subject. "Do I get to see the kids?" "No. Not for a while. I need to get over some stuff first." "Dammit, they're my kids too. You're my WIFE." "Not any more, not once you started drinking, not once you started beating on us." Her voice rose to match his ferocity, but this time he was the one who backed down. "..sry..." he muttered. "What?" "I said I'm SORRY dammit!" He balled his fists, his face growing red. The guardswoman stepped between them again. "Back off. Cool down." Arienna sighed, and after a minute she wiped her eyes and spoke. "No, Vic. You don't get to do this again. I came to see how you did in the storm, and to find out if any of the kids' clothes survived." "I really am sorry. Uh. The house was a total loss. There was a fire next door, jumped the garden and took the kitchen, and then the winds tore the roof off and all there was left was the basement." "Gods. Well, ok. I knew it was a loss anyway." She stopped talking for a moment, lost in memory, then his nervous shuffle brought her back to the present. She smiled faintly, apologetic, "How did you get through it?" "I was press-ganged down to the river - when the storm got to the bay, I was sent off with the others to Ale House. We stayed in the caverns there, it wasn't so bad, kind of crowded." He fidgeted. "I got some money for you and the kids. I've had some work with the builders, and the clean-up crews are paying good money." He started to step forward, extending his right hand. The guard extended her sword flat between them. "Put the money on the sword blade then step back." He put a small knotted square of cloth on the sword blade. The blade seemed to catch fire with the sunlight for a moment, then faded. "No compulsions, no poisons or drugs, five coppers and two gold. You can take the pouch, Arienna." The guard stepped back towards the woman, her sword held carefully flat yet ready. Arienna took the packet of coins. "Thanks for the money, Vic. You have enough for you to live on?" "Yeah, for a while. It lasts longer when I don't drink it all," he said with an edge of self-deprecating bitterness. "I'll see you later, Vic. Come by the Hostel in two weeks and talk to the Sister, she'll tell you if I can see you." "Okay. Gods, I miss you." "I know. I've missed you." For years, she added to herself. He walked away down the street under the guardswoman's watchful gaze. "Time to go now." "I know." They began the trek back, passing the Street of Temples. There was an arch, made of red silken ribands, and the brisk cold wind from the bay seemed to wash over the top of the arch. It was warm and dry underneath. "What's that?" she asked the guardswoman. "The shelter. There wasn't room in the temples, a wandering hermit priest showed the temple dwellers how to consecrate the street until it isn't needed any more. So the storm never hit the street, and they have warmth and food there until Low City is rebuilt and the farms and gardens are back together." "I know that woman." "Who?" "The one with the little girl, can we stop for a minute please?" "Sure." The guardswoman saw a young man in priest's garb, and went over to speak with him, leaving Arienna to her friend - but still watching her. "Sahrae!" Arienna called out, waving, and caught the woman's attention. They met together in a quick, desperate hug. "Arienna! I was afraid you had been lost in the storm! Nobody had seen you for days, and then the house was burned - where have you been?" "I'm staying at the West Hostel, Sahrae." "Vic finally went too far? Are the children all right?" "Yes, we got out early enough. Just. How's your Thomas?" "He was on the seawalls." Sahrae's grey eyes clouded and she looked away. "I'm sorry." "No, I haven't given up. His body wasn't found, and there's still lots being found alive. My neighbor Drinna, her husband was a dock worker, was reported lost, and he came back. So I'm not giving up hope." "We'll pray for you then. Is your house gone?" "Yes. The Weavers' Guild is still paying for spun thread, though, and I managed to bring my handloom, so I'll be all right. Besides, the priestess of Aditi has been giving wood to build new houses." Arienna nodded, not knowing what to say, watching as Sahrae spun yarn with her drop-spindle. Finally she fell back on the time-worn rituals. "How's your daughter doing?" "She's fine. Misses her daddy. She's been helping a lot with the weaving and spinning." Sahrae stopped, sighed and wiped the edges of her eyes. "Our house will be ready again in a few days, we'll have to make do with woven seagrass mats and shakework tables. If you get tired of staying in the Hostel, let me know, I'll make room for you." "I thank you, but for now I've got to stay. You remember Toriquel Jandae?" "Yes, she was Venderi's daughter, wasn't she? Married the caravan master?" "Well, her caravan master was a gambler and a fool and he lost his business, so they moved back in with her family. And you know how Venderi's second husband was. Thedrik, his name is." "Oh, no..." "Tori had gone to the Hostel two weeks before I did. That was why I finally gave in and went there - I didn't know her all that well, but you know, the word came around on the streets, so I knew the kids would be safe there." Sahrae nodded, waiting for the other woman to continue. When she did, it was in a subdued voice. "Tori went back home just before the storm hit, took the baby with her." She blinked, and her hand trembled a little as she dropped the spindle, tightening the fibers into yarn. "Are they all right?" "Their house was spared, they were on the far side of the hill from the worst of the winds. No, there was a fight between Thedrik and Tori's husband, Dirk. So after that Thedrik struck the child for crying, just a few hours before the storm hit, and it died before the day was out. They couldn't get out to see a priest-healer or a chiurgeon." "Gods no. What happened to Thedrik?" "Venderi turned him out on the street, got all four of her sons to do it. I hear she's filed a plaint with the Guard, but nothing's come of it yet." Sahrae shook her head in distaste. "The same as always." She sighed. Another baby gone. They were so fragile at that age, always dying, from croup or the flux or the fevers. It wasn't right that they should be dying because some fool man with a temper couldn't stay his hand. She pulled a ball of yarn from her rucksack and added the new length to it, snapping the end off the spindle with unaccustomed ferocity. A sort of sour laugh at her clumsiness came out. Finally she spoke again. "So how did you hear all of this?" "Tori's back at the Hostel again. The brothers started in on her as they had before, but this time they wanted more than just food. Venderi seems to think it was just and proper since she lost them the income from Thedrik's businesses." Arienna made a face. "Ah well. Such as is, can't be done for, they say." "They do. Visit me at the Hostel if you want, I'm sure that Dahlina would like seeing your Lissa again." "I'll try." They hugged and pressed their hands together, the clasp of friends who see each other too seldom, and then Arienna walked alone back to where the guardswoman waited, leaving Sahrae to start her spinning again.