TRAVELLER (Book 1 in the Brass Pendant Trilogy) (3 page)

BOOK: TRAVELLER (Book 1 in the Brass Pendant Trilogy)
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While I waited patiently for my pendant to turn to rise seven, I fidgeted absently with the Aldirite leather which was looped multiple times around my right wrist. The leather was soft and supple, as was all Aldirite leather, and it was tied together at the ends before those ends were tucked beneath the looped binds. It didn’t matter what time segment I was in, I never removed my pendant and I never removed the leather binds I wore around my wrist. Before I went downstairs though, I made sure my pendant was hidden beneath my clothes, and I pulled my long sleeve down firmly to make sure it completely covered my leather bound wrist.

“Good rise Livia,” said my tutor briskly.

She waited for me at the front door and was also dressed to go running in a +2013 park. Her pendant was tucked beneath her sports shirt as well, but she didn’t have to worry about wrist binds. As my mother liked to remind me on every occasion she could, I was the only Aldirite she knew of who’d been born with a shameful secret which needed to be covered.

“Good rise Mirren,” I said, with what I thought was a good attempt at sounding friendly, but my tutor didn’t look at me at all as she mumbled a reply. She avoided my eyes and opened the door for me instead, and as we were hit by the crisp morning air, we jogged slowly across the street towards the entrance to the park.

In this time segment, my schedule began every morning with a run, and running was my least favourite of my physical challenges. I didn’t mind climbing. When I’d been based in Ancient Era time segments, I’d climbed giant structures and monuments which, by this time segment, had long since crumbled into dust. When I’d lived in +2134 for a while, I’d been taken to an indoor, purpose built plastic climbing mountain every few days. In that time segment, my tutor and I could climb to impressive heights in the comfort of temperature controlled warmth, and it had been handy to be able to climb down again without having to worry about bad weather setting in. I liked swimming, if the temperature of the water was warm, and I enjoyed skiing and riding too, but I really didn’t like to run. My natural endurance wasn’t that strong and running always reminded me of this. Even though I’d been made to include running in my schedule since I was nine turns of a marker, I still couldn’t enjoy it, and the discomfort I felt when my lungs started burning hadn’t been a pain I’d gotten used to like the pain of combat injuries, or the pain of time travel, which now, I almost enjoyed. 

Unlike me, Mirren loved to run, and as we headed through the trees along the bone jolting, concrete running path in the park, I glanced at her. She was breathing steadily through her nose and her face had already settled into a blissful expression. I grimaced. I knew she entered into another world as she ran lightly along beside me, but I silently thanked her for setting an easy pace. I wondered what is was she thought about as she ran and I tried to enter another world myself, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I hated running and I kept wondering how much longer I had to keep running before I was going to be able to stop. There was definitely no blissful facial expression for me!

Behind us, I heard one of my minders who ran with a heavy step. I had a feeling he hated running too, but the Aldirite guards took turns to run behind us and this particular guard was lucky, he only had to run with us once a week at the most. 

We passed other runners on the path and I wished I didn’t have to hide my music cartridge from my tutor and the guards. It would probably have helped me if I’d been able to run to the beat of twenty first century music, like every other person who jogged in the park. We were supposed to blend in to time segments and not draw attention to ourselves, but we were also supposed to remember who we were. Aldirite music was performed at celebrations only and it was made with wooden instruments, water filled pipes, and finely tuned pitch strings. People of my race often sang as they worked too, and probably because of this, our songs were mainly about harvesting, cooking, wood turning, crystal shaping and other such community tasks. The songs on my cartridge were definitely
not
about things like that........

As the sun rose into a mostly clear sky, we ran past a park bench and a young man watched us go by with a hopeless expression on his face. His eyes darted while he frowned to himself and his clothes hung loosely on his bony frame. I wondered what it was that had removed his hope and I glanced at him sadly as I passed him while, beside me, my tutor didn’t see him at all.

My run finished eventually, as it did every morning, and I crossed the busy street with Mirren and headed thankfully back to the house.

While I was here in this time segment, I was required to go to school to enhance my social and historical appreciation of this era. Questers had to be able to speak the major languages of all the significant eras and they also had to be aware of the acceptable social customs of each time segment they were dropped in. It was thought that school was a good training ground for both these things, and all questers spent a fair amount of their time at a few different schools before they made their final challenges.

Going to school in this particular time segment had been unexpectedly enjoyable for me and, when I was back in my rooms, I bathed quickly and changed hastily into my scratchy school uniform. I certainly dressed for school with a lot more enthusiasm than I’d changed earlier for my morning run.

When I was dressed, I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and combed my hair. I had to tie it up for school but I couldn’t braid it in Aldirite style. I had to braid it loosely behind my ears instead, and I tied the remainder of my hair together loosely before twisting it around itself and fastening it at the back of my head. It was up to female questers to copy the locals when it came to styling our hair. Only to a point though. Our people would never add poisons of any kind to our hair, and we’d never put chemicals on our skin on purpose as was fashionable in this particular era. I tucked my pendant beneath my school blouse and pulled my blazer sleeve down over the leather binds which covered the shame on my wrist. Then, I ran swiftly down the stairs.

It was part of my tutor’s responsibilities to make sure I ate in Aldirite style whenever it was possible and I entered the dining room to find Mirren had already finished preparing my breakfast. She’d set the table for one and, as usual, she left me alone the moment I was seated. In front of me, a warm piece of slightly sour, spongy bread was drizzled with honey and spices, and the strong, creamy cocoa which accompanied it was as familiar to me as the solitude in which I ate. I took small bites and chewed slowly because an Aldirite, and a Denborite too for that matter, would be late to their own memorial procession rather than be forced to hurry through a meal…….

My tutor appeared as soon as I was done, making me suspect she’d been listening for the sound of my chair scraping, and I thanked her as she cleared the table silently.

“I’ll be home just before set four,” I said to her cheerfully, as I tried to make another attempt at friendliness, but Mirren only nodded; and she didn’t say another word as she ushered me hastily out the front door with my cup and bowl still held in her hands. It was as if she couldn’t get me out the door fast enough, and when she closed the front door firmly, I sighed and hitched my bag of bound, paper books a little higher on my shoulder before heading for my front gate.

Despite my disappointment at my tutor’s unresponsive demeanour, it didn’t take long for my spirits to lift. One of my favourite things about going to school here was walking there. Although I was often alone inside whatever dwelling I was based in, I was rarely allowed to be outside in a time segment by myself. I was surprised I’d been allowed to do it here, but at my begging, Mirren had applied to my mother and father directly for permission for me to walk to school, and I’d been granted it, seeing as I was so close to my finals. I wasn’t entirely alone of course. Aldirite guards shadowed me as always and I guessed there was probably at least four of them somewhere around me now. But, if I deliberately didn’t look for them, I felt almost……free.

Other students walked to different schools along this street too, and as I walked, I passed by rowdy groups of them. They laughed and talked loudly to each other and I listened to the local phrases they used, and to the pattern of their speech. Mothers walked with small children and adults walked along this street too. Two old ladies with scarfs tied over their hair pulled covered trolleys on wheels behind them as they walked. Life moved and bustled around me and, except for the old ladies, everyone hurried. It was a clear, fresh day and I quickened my step a little to match the pace of the locals. 

Traffic flowed on the road beside me and, on my other side, I walked past narrow terrace houses similar to my own. They had high front fences, and hedges were cut neatly around their security coded gates. This was an affluent area. Our people always based ourselves among affluence as we moved throughout the eras. More than once, over the turns, I’d asked my tutors the reason for this and I’d been answered with pained expressions and much shaking of heads. I’d been told firmly that to be of a low station was acceptable and that servants were necessary for any Kingdom to function well. But, to be so poor as to be without a task to do was to be without honour, and neither Aldirites nor Denborites would tolerate such poverty in their Kingdoms, therefore we shouldn’t have to tolerate it anywhere else.

Of course, this was an early twenty first century city and poverty wasn’t confined to fenced areas here like it was in some eras. As I walked to my exclusive inner city school through expensive inner city houses and past upper class inner city stores, I walked past the entrance to an underground train station, and it was here that those without homes to warm them sometimes sat against the steps.

There was one man in particular I’d seen here more than once, and as I walked towards the steps now, I looked for him among the other unshaven men and uncared for women who sat amongst their grimy belongings. Sure enough, he was there this morning and he sat with his back against the stair rail. He held his thin coat around himself to protect his chest from the cool autumn air and his legs were crossed beneath his coat as well. His hair was medium length, and grey, with slightly matted ends as if it hadn’t grown, or been combed, for many years. His face was lined, but surprising clean compared to his homeless friends, and his beard was neatly trimmed. I knew he watched my approach, as always, and for some reason, I could never tear my eyes from his.

I wasn’t sure what it was about him that had originally caught my attention, but I think it was his eyes. He had pale, aqua coloured eyes, but I knew it wasn’t the colour I’d noticed most. It was the way he noticed everything and everyone who went by him. As I walked towards him now, I knew he saw I enjoyed my walk, and I knew he saw my guilty glance at his homeless friends too. It was like he saw inside my soul as I passed, and every time he was here, he asked me the same question in a surprisingly rich and mellow voice.

“Are you lost?” he asked me, as always……and I couldn’t look away. It was as if I was the one without hope and he was the one offering hope to me. That was what it was about his eyes……they weren’t without hope like the eyes of the others on the stairs……they were full of a fierce hope that burned deeply within them. I shook my head awkwardly and walked passed him quickly, and I let my breath out slowly before I continued towards my school.

I took a short cut through a public courtyard with a water fountain in the middle, and I walked beside benches and under evergreen trees growing in large pots, before I walked down some concrete stairs. When I turned onto the street at the bottom of the stairs, I could see the school building and I smiled at little. This structure was considered to be old by the people here. Stone gate posts supported the large iron front gates and wide stairs led the way to heavy wooden entry doors set into red brick walls. The rectangular windows were edged with white, painted bricks and others students wearing the same scratchy uniform milled about the steps, or were dropped at the gate where they stepped from shiny, expensive cars.

I was a turn or so older than the other students in my year, but I wasn’t here to pass exams or compete with them in any way, so it didn’t matter. Most of what was taught here was either wrong or very basic, but I wasn’t here to learn inaccurate facts either. I was only here to copy the language phrases and to learn to blend in.

As I waited to cross the street, Evangeline alighted from a sleek, black car which had pulled up in front of the school.

Evangeline was training as a quester too and she was my partner for the final challenges. We’d been placed together about six months ago in order to get to know each other in preparation for the finals, and unfortunately, we’d disliked each other instantly on sight.

I’d been looking forward to finally having someone to work with. Some questers worked in groups for most of their training, but I’d been privately tutored the whole time, and Evangeline’s reaction on meeting me had been disappointing. My similar reaction on meeting her however, had surprised me completely. We’d spent the first few days pretending to be nice while we’d both gritted our teeth and tolerated each other’s insincere words. After almost a week though, I’d found I couldn’t take anymore falseness, and while waiting for a weapons training class, I’d suggested we avoid each other whenever circumstances allowed and work together without speaking whenever it was required. Thankfully, Evangeline had been very glad to comply, and after that, it was much easier for both of us. Surprisingly, we worked very well together under this new agenda.

BOOK: TRAVELLER (Book 1 in the Brass Pendant Trilogy)
9.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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