Marda reached into one of the clay bowls on the table filled with a minty smelling mixture and rubbed some of it onto my hand all around the bruised side.  It tingled.  She then re-splinted it.  It was masterfully done again, more like the way Navarre had splinted it than Trenwyn’s hasty job.  I was very grateful but a sense of foreboding undercut my gratitude.  What did Marda know about the Seti? 

Zita leaned toward me, “Marda is the best healer north of Heshbon.  She can cure just about anything.  Marda knows every plant and its uses like the back of her hand.”

“Zita exaggerates, of course,” Marda said flatly. 

“And Marda is too modest.  Many villagers owe her their lives,” Zita waved a finger at Marda as her mouth opened to argue, “And you cannot deny this.  There’s Feld, Haragis—“

“It’s only because these people have no sense,” Marda cut her off.  “A little common sense can keep a healer out of business.” 

Zita shrugged, turning again to me.  “Either way, she’s the best.”

“Thank you, Marda.”  I waved my hand experimentally.  It still tingled a bit, but in a good way.  It was as if I could feel the healing going on under the bandages. 

She met my gaze, her own intense.  “You’re welcome, Ethereal.”  She glanced at Zita for a moment, then asked, “I would like to hear your story, if you’re willing.  I promise I can keep whatever secrets you have.”

“Marda!” Zita hissed, “She doesn’t have to tell us if she doesn’t want to.  She’s in trouble with…” she stopped herself, shooting me an indiscernible glance.

“With the Seti.” I finished for them both.  It was time to deal with the elephant in the room.  Sighing, I began.  “I’m not sure how you both know all this and, honestly, it frightens me that you do know so much, but if it isn’t a secret, there’s no harm telling.  I was apparently marked for death by the Seti back on Earth.  That’s why Trenwyn kidnapped me and brought me here.  The Duri removed the sign, but…” I stopped again.  Somehow the renaming felt very personal to share.

“But you need a new name?” Marda asked.

I nodded.  

“It’s usually that when earthers are here for any length of time.  The Seti have your name then?”

I nodded again and Marda shook her head, lips drawing into a thin frown as if to say, what a shame.

“But you’ve been here for several days now, yes?  What are they waiting on?”

I swallowed.  “I told them I would need some time to find a new name.  To think of the right one.  I don’t really want to rename at all.”

The women nodded sympathetically.  “Do you have to, now that the sign is gone?” she asked.

“They still have my true name,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but if you were to return to Earth and then move somewhere else, those that know your name would have difficulty finding you.  You could even change your name there to make it more difficult, since name change there means nothing.” 

She had a point.  “I definitely like that idea better than becoming not me,” I admitted.  “But the Duri seem very set on the name change.”  I’d even begun to wonder how I would get out of it if Navarre succeeded in freeing me.  I couldn’t tell them the truth and, without that piece of the puzzle, it did seem crazy to keep avoiding the chance to free myself of the Seti and rename.

“Ethereal, are you free tomorrow morning?” Marda inquired.

“Uh, yes, I think so.”

“Come by for some tea,” she invited.  “We can talk a bit more and then, if you like, I will go with you to the Duri stead and present our alternate plan.  I, myself, am rather against renaming unless death is certain otherwise.  I’ve met two other earthers who have gone through the process and survived and it’s very, very difficult.  Maybe even more difficult than for those of us native to Orb.”  She turned to Zita, handing her a small bottle of opaque brown glass.  “And this is what you wanted for your lamb,” she smiled.

“Thank you, she’ll feel so much better if I can heal her poor little foot.”  Zita now turned to me, expectant, and I sensed that it was time to go.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” Marda asked as we walked toward the door.

“Yes.”  This woman knew things, I was sure, and I wanted to be able to talk with her at length.  If she could help me with the Duri too, even better.  “I can get you some money for helping me today then too.”  I really felt like I should pay her for her services since this was her profession.

Marda just tsked. “Nonesense, Ethereal.  I’m helping you because I want to, not for any payment.  Now, keep the sun on your side, ladies,” Marda said as a farewell before we emerged onto the street.

“And the wind always with you,” Zita called back.

The sun was setting now and I wondered what time it was.  “Should we head to the tavern—The Bane?” I asked Zita.

“Yes.  Let’s stop by my shop to lock up for the night and then we’ll go.”

“Why is it called The Bane anyway?”

Zita laughed her musical laugh.  “Its full name is The Courier’s Bane, but everyone just calls it The Bane.  I suppose because if couriers stop there and get too drunk, they won’t deliver their messages on time.”

I still didn’t really understand where the name came from and Zita seemed to gather this from my expression for she took a breath and went on.

“You see, Ethereal, Rhir is only as big as it is because it’s the only major stop in the Roughlands on the road from Dervis to the Northern Kelet.  Most of the outside business here comes from the courier system and the stables.”

I’d heard places like these mentioned before, but had no concept of them.  I wished I could see a map of this place.  “So it’s like the country’s postal system?”  I hazarded a guess. 

Zita opened the door to her shop and ushered me in before continuing.  “I’m not sure.  It is how messages and news are carried within the Dervisian Empire and then to other kelets and powers here in the north and to the south.”

It sounded like a postal system.  “Zita, thank you for helping me,” I said suddenly, on impulse.  I’d only met the woman a little over an hour ago, but she was probably the closest thing I had to a friend here. 

“It’s nothing,” Zita insisted.  “I enjoy getting to know interesting people.  Most of the interesting people that come through here are connected to the Seti in some way.”  I noticed her little shiver, though she tried to hide it. 

“Are all Seti really that bad?” 

Zita just shrugged and set about putting away the balls of yarn she’d left on the shop counter.  “As far as I’m concerned, the Seti and all of their agents can go to Gehenna.” Her tone was vehement.  

I assumed that Gehenna meant hell.  “What about the Duri?  Are all of them so…” I reached for the right word, “stoic?”  It wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but it would have to do.

Zita smirked.  “I see Master Trenwyn has left an impression.  An accurate one, too.  The Duri prefer a life of simple things, as near to the earth and animals as possible.  They are rather ascetic, but some of them can loosen up at times.”

“And what about Omri?  You said your husband is an Omri maj?” It seemed strange to me for a maj to marry a normal human, but then again, what did I know.

“Omri are vibrant and majestic.”  A light shone in her eyes as she spoke and I guessed that she was thinking specifically of Orik.  She seemed very much in love with him. 

            I’d guessed her thinking right, for her next question was, “Have you ever been in love, Ethereal?”  It caught me entirely off guard.

“Umm, no, not really.”  Why was she asking this?

“There is no one special in your life?  Back in your world?”

“No.”  I laughed, shaking my head.  Indeed, I had become very disappointed in prospects. 

“It’s the most wonderful thing in the world,” she told me, finishing with the yarn.  “But I’m sure you’ll find someone.  Maybe even here at the spring festival!”  She winked at me.  “When you come to my house, I’ll make sure that you have all you need to be the prettiest maid at the festival.”

“I put myself completely into your competent hands, Zita.  I’m sure you’ll do a better job with me than I could.”

“Excellent.  Shall we head over to the Bane now?”

A few minutes later we climbed the tavern’s steps and entered the common room.  The place was half full of people—the busiest I’d seen it, and a fire burned on the large hearth beneath the moose head.  Sure enough, musicians were playing on the small stage and I could smell meat, reminding me I was hungry.  The ceiling was hazy with smoke from numerous pipes and my eyes scanned the patrons, hoping to find Trenwyn.  The men in the room seemed to be mostly locals, here to gab about the day’s happenings and share a round of beer, but there were two who looked out of the place, seated at the bar.  I stiffened upon seeing the livery, grabbing Zita’s arm.  “Who are they?” I hissed.

She followed my gaze.  “Those are couriers, Ethereal, nothing to be alarmed by.”

I let out a breath, seeing now that it was a dark blue and silver livery rather than black and silver, as I’d feared.  

“Look, there they are.”  Zita’s voice called my attention to two large men in cloaks with hoods, seated by themselves at a table toward the back wall.  Zita headed straight for them, pulling me with her.  “Ethereal, this is my love, Orik, and his friend, Aqtal.  They are both Omri.”

At her introduction, both men looked up from the table and the strange game of dominoes they’d been playing.

“Welcome to Rhir, my lady,” the first said.  He rose, extending a hand and I realized just how massive the maj was.  His other notable feature was the bright red beard and matching waves of hair I could see under the hood.  The irony struck me.  Zita was so small and dark and this fiery giant was like her antithesis.  

“Good evening, lady Ethereal.”

I turned toward the other voice and the second maj stood.  He was tall as well, but not as tall or as broad as Orik, and his long beard was oiled and black.  A hooked nose made him resemble a bird slightly and his dark eyes were intense as he met my gaze.

Orik addressed me again, “Are you bored to death with the Duri yet?” There was a mischievous sparkle in his eye and I couldn’t help but smile.

“They do seem to be a bit on the cautious side,” I admitted.

Aqtal smirked at this and Orik Grinned broadly.  “To put it mildly, my lady.”

“Ethereal is going to stay with us tomorrow night,” Zita informed him. 

“How lovely, my dove.”  

I couldn’t tell if he actually thought it lovely, or if he was just humoring her.

“Would you ladies care to sit down?”

“No, don’t let us disturb your game, love.  We’ll get some food and then perhaps join you later.  Or maybe we’ll join the Duri.”  She winked at him, but he just grinned back.

“Let’s sit over here, Ethereal.”  Zita led me to a large but unoccupied table, plopping down in one of the chairs.

“Were they playing dominoes?” I asked, my eyes still on the small table between the two Omri majai.  It looked different than the dominoes I’d seen before. 

“They’re kamaiz chips, they’re playing Kel’s Favor,” Zita announced.  “Maybe they call them dominoes on Earth. It’s a gambling game.”

“Oh.”  I saw Meggie approaching us and frowned, realizing I had no money so I probably shouldn’t be ordering food. 

“What can I get you ladies?” Meggie bobbed a curtsy and flashed a smile.

“Two dark ales,” Zita ordered.  “And some stew, please.”