“From the moment I saw you, Edie.”
There was something in his eyes I could not place. His face was compassionate and his eyes crinkled at the corners. I thought that he was a good-looking man. My eyes went to his left hand which bore no ring of marriage. I wondered if Alric would want us to wear rings. Ignoring the thought, I asked, “And the third?”
“A history of Tintar. Also printed. It will explain the ancient Tintarians’ scale of magic and power. You may laugh, but sea Tintarians used to take on the tail of a mermaid and swim for hours without breath. Air Tintarians could take flight and become invisible. Fire Tintarians could create a wall of flame. And earth Tintarians could make mountains move. They constructed this keep. I think, also, you should know the history of your new home, even if this is thousands of winters ago.”
“I agree,” I said and pulled the three books into my lap.
“Consider the printed books a gift. I can get others to replace them. The account of the terrains and regions of Tintar is handwritten and the sole copy.”
“Thank you. I will read the terrain book first so as to return it quickly.”
“I am grateful.” Again, he gave me a friendly look. “Do you have any questions before I begin your children’s lesson in The Farthest Four?”
“Why do you call them The Farthest Four?”
“The four deities are the broadest understanding of our world. There is nothing bigger, greater,fartherthan the Mother, the Father, the Sister, the Brother. You know of the Cloudlands?”
“Only as myths.”
“Well, they do exist. An eternal summer, beasts the size of ships and thriving citadels. They have no monarchies, much like Eccleston, all city-states. They are twice as advanced as our continent, but only one ship’s excursion from Tintar made it back to tell the tale and that was before any of our lifetimes. Even the Cloudlands are less real to us. The Farthest Four are the most we know of existence.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I keep asking questions.”
“Of course you do!” He stood and took off his green and brown robe. He was wearing a shortsleeved brown tunic and breeches belted with a perforated leather belt. Through one of the perforations, on his right side, was a hatchet. “Apologies, Father Fire beats down on us today.”
“You believe he is the sun?”
He shrugged, sitting back down. “It is a Tintarian saying.” Cian went on to explain that air Tintarians were either granted penchants in mysticism or physical prowess, that sea Tintarians were natural swimmers and could hold their breath for long periods, always had good hauls when fishing and never drowned, that fire Tintarians were skilled in the forge as blacksmiths, silversmiths, sometimes glassblowers, and even without flint and rock, could often start a fire and used less wood, keeping a fire burning without adding kindling. Earth magic was the most complicated with nearly a hundred identified penchants. But while Mother Earth’s magic had the most uses, it was the rarest. Sea magic was the most common as Tintar was coastal. Air magic was the second most common, the Tintarian infantry, cavalry and navy full of skilled warriors and the temple full of sages and wisemen. Fire magic was less prevalent, but still not as uncommon as earth.
“Your captain is of a fairly strong fire bloodline,” Cian added to his long description.
“I thought he was a worshipper of Mother Earth?”
Cian nodded. “He has four brothers and a father who are all blessed by Father Fire. They operate a successful forge in Pikestully. His twin is a skilled smithy and has become quite well known. But I believe his mother has a little earth magic.”
My husband has a twin, I thought, but spoke aloud, “And he has no magic?”
“None. But often, the larger half of Tintarian citizens, those without magic are just as, if not more, devout to the Four.”
Before I could stop myself, I asked, “But why is his family name Angler?”
“Many Pikestullians have fishing names. I’m sure his ancestors fished.”
I nodded. Then, smiling, I asked, “May I continue to ask questions?”
“Yes, I have been rambling.”
“Not at all. I have a different grasp of faith. I am trying to put all of this into framing that I can understand. I am from Perpatane and grew up in the faith of Saint Rodwin.”
Cian frowned. “My sympathies. From what I understand, followers must eschew drink, dancing, any pleasures of the mind or flesh. And if one indulges too much, I believe their afterlife demands them serve as slaves in some… devil-ridden realm. With demons? That is Rodwin’s hell. Our hell is to be without The Four. And am I correct in understanding that any lovemaking outside of the marriage bed is a jailing offense?”
I thought of Quinn and nodded.
He frowned. “Terrible. And tell me about the boxing? I have only ever been as far as Eccleston in my travels. So much of my duties have prevented me from leaving this country. But I have heard of the boxing practice. I don’t understand it entirely.”
37. Sacrifices
There was a reflexive tightening of my body at the mention of the box. “Yes. Smaller sins are punished not by prison but by… people are put in a coffin in their neighborhood’s Rodwin church. And they are made to lie there for days at a time. No reprieve or sustenance and… other faithful parishioners pray over them as they repent.” How I got through that explanation, I did not know. I had never even told Helena about the box. I thought of the voices that had prayed over my many boxings, the voices meant to ask for grace, damning me instead.
