City of Jade

2

BOSKYDELLS

LATE AUTUMN, 5E1010

[THE FINAL YEAR OF THE FIFTH ERA]

It was a blustery day in the Boskydells, with the wind swaying the lofty pines to and fro and the tall grass in the adjoining field rolling in undulant golden waves. An eld buccan stood back from the edge of the woods, his cloak whipping in the air. Behind him sat a stripling in chains, his wrists shackled, his legs in irons. But the elder paid no heed to the youngster on the ground; nor did the chain-wrapped stripling seem concerned over his own fate. Instead both Warrows looked up high at a rope spanning the gap between two of the swinging pines, the line alternately looping slack and then snapping taut.

Between clenched teeth, the black-haired youngster gritted, “Come on, Pip, come on. You can do it.” Yet the worried look on his face said otherwise.

The eld buccan stood stock-still and muttered under his breath, “Wait for it, bucco. Wait for it.”

And the trees swayed upright, the rope drawing tight, and in that moment, from the pine on the right, a fair-haired stripling ran out on the line. Across the space he dashed, but just ere reaching the far end, a misplaced foot gave him pause, and he teetered precariously, and in that same moment a gust caught the Warrow and the trees. Even as the buccan fell, the rope drooped and swung away. Wildly he grabbed for the line, but missed. And he plummeted down and down, to land in the net far below.

“Rats!” spat the chain-wrapped Warrow. He sighed and, with a lock pick, began probing the innards of his left-foot shackle.

The oldster trudged across the space and to the net, to find the fair-haired buccan lying on his back and looking at the swaying rope above.

“Well, lad?”

“I would have made it, Uncle Arley, but for a stupid wrong step.”

“You would have, at that.”

The youngster turned over and made his way to the brink of the net, where he grabbed the edge and somersaulted over to land on his feet on the ground.

“It’s no easy task, Pipper,” said the eld buccan. “But it’s one to be mastered, for there might come a day when you’ll have no net whatsoever.”

Pipper nodded and sighed and said, “I’ll give it another go.”

Uncle Arley grunted his assent.

“How’s Bink doing?” asked Pipper.

“I dunno,” said Arley, looking back toward the chain-wrapped stripling. “He hadn’t even started until after you fell.-Binkton worries about you, you know.”

“I know. But it’s Bink I worry about. I mean, that thing with the chains and the knives and the breaking links. . well, it just gives me the blue willies.”

Arley smiled, and then turned and started toward Binkton, as Pipper trotted to the right-hand pine and began climbing.

With the smile yet on his face, Uncle Arley slowly walked toward where Binkton sat. Though they had much left to learn, the lads-Pipper, now at fourteen summers, and Binkton, three moons older-were making good strides toward the professions Arley would have them master. Not that he hoped they would follow in his own footsteps; oh, no, that would be too perilous. Yet they were deft, and skill would come, for both had quick hands, especially Binkton, and they were very agile, especially Pipper. And they were exceptionally good with sling and bow and arrow. Why, just last year they had tried to join the Company of the King, and perhaps would have run away to do so, but for the blizzard.

As Arley came upon Binkton, that stripling had managed to get his feet freed, and now he was working on the shackle at his left wrist. Perhaps within a year or two, Binkton would be quit of all locks and chains in but a heartbeat or three; even so, and at this time, he was quite skilled for one of his young years.

Arley nodded at the dark-haired buccan, then turned and looked toward the tall swaying pines again, with the rope strung between.