Get your own Free Home PageI approached Carthon with caution. I certainly don't look like a Drytowner, with my dark brown hair and brown eyes. Still, it is a trade city and they must be used to strangers coming in. At least I don't look Comyn, more like someone out of the Kilghard Hills. I speak cahuenga without any casta accent, so I think I can get away with posing as a merchant.
Carthon is a dusty place. High winds kick the sand around in swirls as one walks through the streets of the city. The buildings are almost all of sandstone from the nearby river valley. Some are polychromed in elaborate designs but most are plain.
The most disturbing feature of the city is the constant jangle of the chains the women wear. Even though most of them are out of sight, you can still hear that horrible clicking and clanking. As I was finding shelter, I saw some Drytowner children playing. A boy of around ten years old was putting toy chains on a little girl, and I heard him say, "Now you are mine." What hope is there for this culture to change if children are channeled into such disgusting practices so early in life?
Because Carthon is on a trade route, the air is filled with exotic odors of spices along with sand. Dry, cold winds blow the sand into every crevice of my clothing the minute I step outdoors. I am staying in an inn used by foreign visitors. Tomorrow, I plan to leave at dawn, for the entire place unnerves me. I have to wonder how my Renunciate friends would view this place; personally, it makes me ill to think of what goes on behind those walls.
********************
The next morning:
Just outside of Carthon, I had that odd feeling that seems to
accompany the MacAran Gift.
I brushed it off, since all it usually means is that there is a dog nearby.
But it did not go away. I heard a whimper and turned. "Oh, Merciful
Avarra, it's Jasper! But I left him in Thendara. How did he get here?" The
poor little dog came limping up to me. The pads of his feet were worn
bloody. He was filthy and full of briars and burrs, but it was indeed Jasper.
"You silly dog! Why didn't you stay in the kennels at Thendara where you
would be safe? Look at you!" Hugging Jasper despite the dog's rather ripe condition, I took him to the riverside, washed him, put balm on his
pads, and lifted the damp dog onto my lap. Jasper lifted his head and planted
a big sloppy dog kiss on my face. "Well, " I said, "I really needed
the company, I guess. Let's go into the shade of that tree and I'll find
something in my pack for you to eat."
Jasper wagged his tail; he was happy
again since the first time since I left him at Comyn Castle all those weeks
ago. And he knew, he just knew that he would find me again if he went this way, then that.
Tonight, I pitched my traveler's tent and the two friends, one human
and one canine, snuggled in for the night. "Well, buddy," I said, "you've just put yourself up for some interesting times."