Kéntavros

It's not every day that you come across a centaur stuck in a tree...

Chapter 1

The sky was pale and cloudless, every colour faded, and sunlight filled in all but the smallest nooks and crannies.
The King’s Walk, a path carved out of the hill by the thousands of travelers who had walked between the cities of Admah and Helam, had last year been flattened, straightened, and engineered into an official route which shortened the distance to less than two days of easy walking. It ran nearly parallel to the taxed road, and occasionally veered near enough to the checkpoints that travelers could seek aid at the guard stations when needed. The path’s narrow width and tight openings restricted its use to human foot traffic, so there were no worries about being pushed aside by horses, carts and other things. The raised dirt walls along either side were dried a light tan, with the occasional pale grey stone sticking out, and the grasses on top were yellowed and white from lack of water.
Sarai had been alternating between a jog and a swift walk in order to cut her travel time to a day. She only had one thin blanket and an oilcloth, and didn’t want to be caught out overnight in the cold. If she could make it to Helam before the city gate closed for the night she could present her letter of introduction, and it would grant her an interview at the guardhouse, when they had the time, and meals and a bunk until she got her chance to speak to the administrator.
Twenty minutes past the halfway marker, Sarai heard shouting. Pleas and orders and irritation in a mix of voices. She couldn’t make out the words, but the tones were full of distress and panic, so she paused and looked back to where the last opening in the wall was still in sight.
She hurried back and stepped over the threshold to leave the path.
After scrambling over the rocks and rough terrain outside the path, Sarai came to a large hollow between three hills and saw a small crowd of centaurs, all looking up at a tree some distance from the edge of a woods.
Sarai climbed onto a low boulder and shaded her eyes to get a better look. The tree looked dead. It was tall and grey, with its lower branches ripped off and then woven together with the upper branches to form a large bowl at the top. As she watched, the face of a small boy peeked over the edge. Sarai’s eyes widened and she looked from the boy in the nest to the group of centaurs pointing and planning and shouting up at the child. The tree must be unscalable by anyone weighed down by a horse’s body, though one of the males, who looked strong enough to consider it, had reared up and was testing some of the branch stubs within his reach.
But a human might be able to do it.
Sarai took a moment to consider the situation, and then shook her head. She knew she was going to talk herself into trying to help. Best not waste time debating with herself and worrying about if they would let her. Better to put her mind to figuring out the how, since they’d be less likely to reject someone who came to them with a plan, and didn’t just look nosy.
The first few branches were ripped away close to the trunk, some still had a bit of splintered wood still sticking out, but many were fully torn away leaving shallow dips. Those holes might provide toe holds if she were holding onto a longer branch, but the lowest partial branches didn’t start until at least twice her height up the trunk. Any attempt to jump and reach them would lead to a slide down with a front full of splinters at best, and a hard crash to the ground at worst.
If she could find some way to get up to the longer branch stubs higher up, there were enough of them that she could see a path to the top. She wasn’t sure she could trust any ladder she cobbled together, and a rock pile to that height would take far too long to build, but (she looked at the milling centaurs) there might be a way.
Jumping off the boulder, Sarai walked down, snapping a twig off a shrub as she passed. Stopping not to close, but not too far from the crowd, nearest to a male who was calmly surveying the situation and looking clever, she crouched down and used the stick to draw two pictures in the dirt.

Anbir was watching Dagrim consider how to pull himself up the tree to get to his nephew. Gishkim had been taken by a wyvern when he had wandered to the edge of their camp. Fortunately the beast had dropped the boy into his nest for a later meal rather than eating him. His uncle’s current plan was to drag himself up, lower Gishkim with a rope, then lay in wait to battle the wyvern and make certain it wouldn’t be a threat as they traveled.
Dagrim hadn’t said anything about coming back down.
He might just be strong enough to climb up, but unless there was a way to jump down without killing himself, that nest would be his grave.
A twig snapped and Anbir turned his head.
A human approached, but before she got too close she crouched down to scratch in the dirt with a stick.
Anbir turned to keep an eye on her.
Smaller than most adults of her kind, and covered in dust from walking, she wore a green straw hat and a pale green garment that covered her from neck to wrists to knees, under an unbleached caplet, open at the front with a hood hanging down her back. Her lower legs were tightly covered in fabric so coated in dust he couldn’t see the colour and she wore the leather bags two legged folk often put on their feet.
The human drew two pictures, stood up, considered them, crouched down to brush away a portion, redraw it and then looked up at Anbir, waving him over before taking several steps back.
He cautiously approached and looked down at the drawings.
One of the pictures showed the tree with a two legged figure at the top using a rope to lower a smaller figure with four legs. The other showed the tree with a four legged figure that was likely Dagrim judging by the size, standing in front of it with his hands holding the trunk, and then a smaller centaur beside him, then another even smaller centaur beside them and then a two legged figure and arrows arching from the two legged to the smallest centaur, the medium centaur, Dagrim’s back, then pointing up to the nest.

Sarai watched as the centaur examined her drawings. He was slightly below average size, and had black hair gathered in tight braids along the sides of his head and one big loose braid from his forehead to the nape of his neck, where all the braids were braided together and bound off with a metal decoration at his waist. His upper body was clothed in a fitted red leather jacket that matched the long, dark red fur covering his lower body. His flank was marked with three white slashes bleached onto each side of his rump.
He had approached slowly when she’d gestured to him, his face expressionless.
After examining her drawing, he’d looked at her shocked, and asked her something in a language she assumed was Kéntavros while pointing to the drawing.
“If you’re asking if I’m offering to climb up to get the child, then yes.” She nodded as she patted her chest then pointed up at the nest. “But I’m going to need help getting high enough up to climb.” She pointed to the drawing that she hoped looked like centaurs standing side by side. “And, I’m going to need his rope.” She pointed at the line drawn between the stick figure version of herself and the centaur child being lowered from the nest, mimed holding onto a bundle of rope draped diagonally across her chest, and then pointed at the large male, standing on his hind legs gripping the trunk with his forelegs, and the long rope looped around his torso.
The male looked at her while he thought, then nodded and turned to race to the tree. He spoke urgently to the large male, who looked back at her, appearing angry. He lowered himself back to the ground to gesture in a heated debate with the smaller male. Sarai presumed the large male was trying to convince his fellow and himself that his climbing up the tree was a better plan.
After all, she was a stranger, and their races rarely mixed.
Eventually the large male looked up at the child watching him from the nest. He nodded angrily, sending the smaller male back to Sarai.
As she approached, guided by the smaller male, the large male was gesturing at another, smaller, male and an even smaller centaur, this time a female, to join him by the tree.
He handed his rope to Sarai, then stood in front of the tree, embracing it tightly. The slightly smaller male stood next to him, with an arm holding onto the larger male’s waist, and the female stood beside the smaller male, embracing his waist in turn.
Sarai dropped her travel bundle onto the ground and pulled off her shoes and tugged her half hose out from under her leg wraps, tucking them into her belt. She looped the rope around her torso, along with the string for a leather bottle filled with water an older female handed her, before approaching her first ‘stair’. The female’s dappled yellow back was as high as her shoulders. Turning back to the male she had spoken to, she patted her waist and gestured for him to lift her up. He shook his head, pushed her back and kneeled his lower body on the ground beside the female. Sarai took a deep breath, then she climbed up onto the male’s back, bracing one hand on his shoulder and the other on the female’s back. Sarai clambered over the centaurs, ignoring the way their muscles flinched and trembled, until she reached the large male.
She stood on his back with her hand on one shoulder, looking up and examining the hand and footholds on the tree trunk. His fur was black and curly, and tickled the bottoms of her feet, but he held perfectly still, every muscle tense.
Sarai reached up to hold the highest branch she could reach, stepped up onto his shoulders and began the climb.

By the time Sarai reached the edge of the nest she was drenched in sweat. She saw the child peaking over at her and shouted for him to get back. He just looked at her confused, but the adults below soon figured out what the problem was and yelled at him until he ducked back out of her way. Dragging herself over the edge and into the nest, Sarai collapsed onto the bottom, gulping in air while the centaur child kneeled beside her looking worried, and, with his horse body, far bigger than any human child his age would be. After a few minutes she stopped shaking and sat up to look around. She put on her shoes, drank some of her water and gave the child a sip, then found the tree trunk and tied one end of the rope to it. After tying the other end around the child’s waist and lower chest behind his forelegs, testing the knots over and over, she measured out enough length for the child to get to the edge of the nest plus a short distance. After that length, she looped the rope a few times around a large protruding branch to act as improvised pulley to ease the weight of a child far heavier than herself, then she twisted a stick as thick as her leg into the slack that was left so that she could gradually untwist the length to lower the child.
After bracing the stick, she walked back to the child and said “I’m going to lower you down, your family should catch you.” She doubted he understood her, but hoped her voice would reassure him.
She guided the boy to stand on the edge of the nest. Then she shoved him off.
Running and stumbling back to the stick, she held on while it jerked and pulled.
The child’s yell, mixed with the screams and shouts of the people below, turned to gasps when he jerked to a stop. Sarai held on as the rope swayed, then slowed. Once it stilled, she pulled the stick free of the nest and began to slowly untwist the rope, lowering the boy. She counted each turn of the stick, digging one end into the nest so that she could switch her grip, over and over, focusing her mind on the numbers, shutting out any other thoughts.
Three times the rope either slipped on or snapped one of the branches that made up the nest’s edge, jerking the stick in her hands and taking skin with it, the sudden drops causing gasps and shouts to sound from below, and once she was pulled off her feet when a number of branches snapped at the same time.
After fifty two hand-over-hands she felt the weight lessen. A couple more and the weight disappeared. She waited until sounds of cheering and celebration reached her, then collapsed.
After she caught her breath Sarai got up and moved to look over the edge.
The child had been taken away and most of the crowd had moved to the edge of the woods to fuss over him. Five people stayed and were looking up at her, including the large male who had tried to climb the tree and the smaller male she had talked to.
Sarai untangled the twisted middle of the rope, pushed the slack over the edge, then began the climb down.
She tried not to look at her hands and used her legs to take as much of her weight as possible. In just a short distance she had wholly stopped using her hands, twisting her arms around the rope and hoping she didn’t slide too fast every time she loosed the grip she had with her feet. The rope spun and swung back and forth as she descended, and she closed her eyes to keep from getting dizzy.
Before she reached the bottom, she felt hands grabbing her. She let go and opened her eyes to see the male she had talked to in front of her untangling her from the rope while someone held her dangling in the air.
She staggered when they tried to stand her on the ground, and she was picked up again.
She heard a short conversation in irritated Kéntavros before she was lifted onto the back of the large male. The smaller male held her in place and they carried her away.

Chapter 2

The centaurs had set up camp in a clearing half a mile from the tree.
Sarai was deposited inside one of the few shelters with walls, inside which was a huge bath. Her clothes were taken away by a female centaur with a golden coat marked with black rings, who was wearing a bright green garment intricately smocked at the neck and wrists, its bottom hem embroidered with butterflies hovering over flowers.
Sarai had then been washed, wrapped in a length of blue fabric that was soft, itchy and warm, then bandaged and smeared with ointments by a gaggle of adolescent girls under the supervision of a pair of elders. She assumed her attendants had been chosen for their lack of height rather than skill, but they tried to be gentle, and the medicines they applied had been mixed by the old ladies guiding them.
The youngest girl patted her own chest, saying “Minesh” repeatedly, to which Sarai had replied with her own name, gesturing to herself with the back of her hand.
Having succeeded in introducing herself, Minesh began gesturing to and naming all the others. The elders were Hili and Namazu, but the rest of the names blurred in Sarai’s tired brain.
Minesh took charge of feeding Sarai from a bowl of thick stew made with beans and starchy tubers, flavoured with a meat she couldn’t quite identify. It was a welcome service since Sarai’s hands were useless. Her palms had been covered with a layer of spider silk, then her hands bound up in many layers of thin fabric over a sticky salve which smelled of lavender, comfrey, and something that added a hint of a spicy floral scent.
After a while, Sarai gestured to Minesh to stop feeding her. At the young centaur’s concerned look, she tried to express that she was small and had only one stomach to fill, but Minesh just seemed to grow more confused.
Fortunately the elders came up to them with an armfull of faded red fabric and intervened. Namazu claimed the bowl, setting it to the side. Then she and Hili tugged away the blue fabric Sarai was wrapped in, and dropped a light red dress over her head. It had a train designed to go over a centaur's rump so she had to gather it up in order to avoid getting tangled. After that, they gave her a bowl of dark brown liquid that tasted similar to her mother’s cureall, but strong enough to make her sneeze. She drank the whole thing before it occurred to her that they might not have allowed for her smaller size.
Hili led her out of the tent, and she was handed off to a medium sized female who was introduced as Minussa.
Minussa, who had curly black hair and coat, guided Sarai to one of the sideless shelters.
It was made from a collection of red oilskins stretched between tall poles. There were five lit braziers just under the edges, and around the centre were several wooden structures consisting of a board on the ground connected to another board that stuck up in the air at an angle. In the centre of the shelter were piles of blankets where young children lay on their sides sleeping, watched over by a pair of males.
Hili pointed out one of the children with a scratched face and bandages around his arms and upper body, and said “Gishkim”. Sarai recognized him as the child she had saved and nodded, smiling sleepily. Minussa kneeled her lower body down in front of Sarai and pulled her gently into her arms. Sarai guessed Minussa was related to the child and gingerly returned the embrace. Eventually Minussa let Sarai go and rose to guide her to a pile of blankets beside the boy. She watched as Sarai burrowed into the blanket pile, then kneeled on a nearby plank structure draped with a flat pillow over the top, leaning her upper body against the part that stuck up. Sarai noticed Minussa had a diamond mark dyed red above her tail, but no other markings.
Both drowsy and abuzz from the effects of a centaur’s dose of cureall, Sarai was still awake when more adults came into the tent, including the large male who had tried to climb the tree. Minussa spoke to him and then he nodded to Sarai, patted his chest with a frown and said “Dagrim”. Swishing his tail, he settled onto a plank structure on the other side of the one next to Minussa, casting several noncommittal glances at Sarai. He had a white diamond, similar in shape to Minussa’s red diamond, along with sun symbols dyed yellow, showing white where the dye was patchy, and Sarai wondered if the diamond was a family birthmark.
Sarai yawned, arranged herself so as to hopefully bump her scrapes the least, and soon fell asleep.

Chapter 3

The next day, Sarai awoke to milder aches and pains than she had any reason to expect.
The sun had risen to two handswidth, marking the time as midmorning, and the children were all gone from their beds, as was Dagrim. A red piebald male with russet brown hair slept next to where Minussa still rested, facing Sarai.
Minussa rose and held out her hands to help Sarai get up.
Bracing her forearms against Minussa’s hands, Sarai staggered to her feet, still dizzy from last night’s medications, and was led back to the bathing tent. Inside she was fed while most of her bandages were removed by Hili and Namazu.
They were interrupted by the return of the golden female who had taken Sarai’s clothes yesterday. She carried the clothes folded over her arms, and moved to hang them on a frame by fire, then placed Sarai’s travel bundle beside it. Sarai saw the clothes had been washed and dried and the tears she had gotten from the tree, along with all her previous haphazard repairs, had been mended with embroidered flowers and pretty blue swirls that could have been water or clouds to hide the damage.
Sarai smiled and curved her hands towards her chest, giving a little bow in the hopes of conveying the “thank you” she said in her own language. The golden female replied with a judgmental look followed by a small nod. Then she left and Sarai shrugged. She had gotten snootier looks from her sisters, delivered after far less help, over her lack of skill with a needle. The golden female’s pride was more than earned by her skills.
Hili and Namazu poked at Sarai’s skin with many smiles and nods, which she took as a good sign.
A few of the abrasions on her arms and legs were rebandaged after being treated with powder that smelled similar to the salve of the night before, but less green. Then they turned their attention to her hands.
The elder centaurs winced at the wounds on her palms which somehow looked worse than the night before, clicking their tongues as they conferred. Then Namazu nodded and left to mix medical powder with the salve while Hili spread something that numbed the area on Sarai’s hands before cleaning out the cuts and removing chunks of debris that had become visible now that the swelling had gone down. Sarai stared at the top of the tent, determinedly pretending that the hands they were working on didn’t belong to her.
When she looked down, Sarai found that her palms had been treated with a paste and thickly bandaged, with her pointer fingers and thumbs bandaged separately and the fingertips half exposed so that she would be able to use them. After she was dressed in her dried clothes, her bundle, now heavy with packets of food brought in by Minesh, was placed across her torso along with her own leather bottle and the leather bottle she had used the day before, both filled with water.
As she left the tent, Sarai was met by Minussa, Gishkim and the piebald male, who bowed, patting his chest saying “Nurma”, and Dagrim standing behind them with his arms crossed as if on guard.
Sarai dipped her head, touched her chest and gave her name in return.
Gishkim, holding a small basket the size of two cupped hands, looked up at the adults standing beside him and, at a gentle touch from Minussa, stepped forward and held it out.
The basket was half filled with jewelry. Necklaces, bracelets and rings made of fine woods, brass and copper, and on top were three silver coins. Sarai’s eyes widened. She didn’t know how much of their wealth the jewelry represented, but she knew centaurs rarely used coins, hoarding them for expenses such as taxes, when coins were the only exchange accepted.
Sarai stepped back and waved her hands in an attempt to say no. Pushing the basket back to Gishkim, she smiled, then held her hand out to indicate the centaurs before gestured to herself, then held her arms above her head to indicate shelter, mimed eating and sleeping, pointed to the embroidery on her clothes and her bundle bulging with foodstuffs, then pulled her hands towards her chest as if holding something and bowed in an attempt to gesture her thanks.
As she rose, she saw a flash of gold out of the corner of her eye, then looked up to see all the adults frowning at her, and Gishkim looking crestfallen. Nurma put a hand on Gishkim’s shoulder, guiding his hands out to again offer the basket to Sarai. Under Dagrim’s glare she sheepishly accepted the gift, bowing her thanks.
Dagrim’s look eased and he walked over beside her and pointed in the direction back to the King’s Walk. Sarai nodded and stepped forward as Dagrim led the way, and Anbir soon joined them.
The centaurs chatted above her head, moving at a speed that was probably slow for them, and Sarai soon fell behind. She watched them, amusing herself by speculating how long it would take them to realize they had lost her, betting with herself that they wouldn’t notice before they’d have to split into single file to enter the woods.
Sarai was fifty feet behind, and the males had just reached the trees, when the golden female caught up with her. She grabbed Sarai’s shoulder, placed something soft into her hands, then turned and left at a fast clip.
The males turned to look at the sound of the female’s hooves. Startled to find Sarai no longer between them, they cantered back.
Sarai examined the pair of mitts she had been given. They were long enough to cover her arms up to her elbows, sewn from soft grey leather, lined with white fur, and had black embroidery in a complicated design covering the bottom edge and side seams up to the base of the wrists.
The males paused beside her in discussion.
Sarai was startled when Anbir suddenly lifted her up onto Dagrim’s back and they set off again.

The three reached the opening to the King’s Walk faster than Sarai could have ever managed, even if she hadn’t been scraped and bruised.
Anbir helped her slide down Dagrim’s side, and then Dagrim turned to her and pointed to the basket from Gishkim, saying several words in Kéntavros, and the names Minussa and Gishkim. She held up the basket, and he took the coins.
Sarai asked “Are you going to give them to Minussa?”, miming handing over something. Dagrim held out a hand palm down and mimed sneaking the coins underneath, saying “Minussa” and a few other words.
Sarai nodded and smiled, then stepped over the threshold onto the King’s Walk.
She waved goodbye and turned to go to Helam.

Chapter 4

Sarai made it to the gates of Helam before dusk in spite of walking at an ambling pace for much of the way.
While digging through the abundance of the centaur’s gifts at her first rest, she found a pot of salve that smelled and looked the same as what they had used on her wounds before, and she gratefully reapplied it to some of her sores.
The food the centaurs had given her, meat stuffed buns, sweet flatbreads, fruits and hard cheeses, didn’t need any preparation, so she didn’t have to build a fire or boil water and only had to pause long enough to eat before carrying on. The food was more than bountiful enough to keep hunger from pausing her steps.
Making it through the gate with only a friendly chat with the guards, Sarai followed their directions to the guardhouse and presented herself at the desk inside the first room.
The man sitting there had salt and pepper hair and the most impressively styled mustache Sarai had ever seen. It ran down both sides of his mouth and continued until it was long enough to reach his chest. Beads, red and green and silver, started from the bottom of his chin and continued until the ends, which were finished with silver points. There was a scar on his chin, and he was missing the two last fingers on his left hand. He wore an unbleached tunic under a navy guard's tabard with three medals shaped like stars sewn to the left of his chest.
“So, what can I do for you?”
Sarai pulled out her letter of introduction, with a bit of difficulty due to the bandages, and handed it to him. “Greetings Sir, my name is Sarai from Bela, North of Admah, descended from Eglah and cousin to Manessah, a guard of five years, who has been asked to vouch for me. I’m here to apply to be a guard.”
“Hm, well I’m Beerah the clerk, Sarai from Bela, North of Admah, descended from Eglah. I’ll check with Manessah and pass your name to the administrator if he vouches for you. But what on Earth happened to your hands?”
Sarai held a hand up, turning it back and forth as she examined it, then met his eyes. “I, uh, helped a centaur out of a tree.”
Beerah blinked. “Out of a…? What.”
Sarai nodded. “It was a child and I’m pretty sure something with wings put him there.”
Beerah considered her for a minute.
Then he hit a block of wood sitting on the desk with a small mallet and a warm tone sounded. A guard stepped out from the opening behind him. “Dan here will lead you to the women’s billet. You can sleep there tonight. You’re too late for last meal, but he’ll point out where to get breakfast tomorrow. I expect you to be on time to sit with me and tell the whole of that tale.”
Sarai bowed. “Yes, Clerk Beerah. Thank you, Clerk Beerah.” and followed Dan out.
As he led her to the billet, she asked “How early does Clerk Beerah eat breakfast?”
Dan smirked, though not too unkindly. “First sitting, at dawn.”
Sarai’s shoulder drooped as she sighed, and Dan nodded in amused sympathy.

It was three days before Clerk Berrah led Sarai to the administrator’s office. When she got there Manessah was standing at attention beside the desk, where a middle aged woman with tightly braided grey hair sat. She was wearing a heavy iron chain of office over a narrow green tabard layered over a navy guard's tabard, with six medals shaped like stars sewn on the left side.
“Administrator Hogla, this is applicant Sarai.” Clerk Berrah introduced.
The administrator looked Sarai up and down. “You wish to join the guard?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was wanting to move to a city, and I’m good at herding people, problem solving and stopping people from going where I don’t want them to go. I’m not the best at fighting, but good enough to back someone up. You won’t regret hiring me.”
Administrator Hogla looked at Manessah, who nodded “Sarai has always been honest, steady and quick to lend a hand when people were in trouble. She’s a bit bossy and likely to take over if she thinks she knows what’s best, but really that’s what our job is. That's why I suggested she apply.”
The woman nodded, then looked at Sarai. “In that case, you can join training. Food and lodging will be provided, and if you make it into the guard you will receive half pay for your training time.” She gestured towards the door “Clerk Berrah will get you settled and tell you your schedule.” Catching Clerk Berrah’s eyes she added “And please note in her file that Manessah should get the credit, good or ill, for recommending Sarai to us.” She nodded and then turned her attention to the papers on her desk.
Clearly dismissed, the others left.

Chapter 5

After they had seen the human woman to the King’s Walk, Dagrim and Anbir hunted up some cavy from the brush and started a fire to cook the meat along with some dough wrapped sticks, then buried pea pods in the coals for a second meal. After they ate the meat and bread Dagrim sat, shelling roasted peas and throwing the pods through the entrance onto the King’s Walk.
Beside him, Anbir said “It was kind of Sarai to try to give back the gifts from your sister’s family.”
Dagrim grunted. “It was rude.”
“And it wasn’t rude for you to take the coins?” Anbir raised his eyebrow.
“Of course it was rude. But we need those coins more than she does.” Dagrim concentrated on a tricky pod then held out the peas from inside to Anbir. “Humans don’t have to argue to get paid in coins and can fit inside the offices and roofed markets to do borrowing.”
Anbir caught the peas and popped them into his mouth. After swallowing he asked “Are you really going to sneak those into Minussa’s bundle without telling her… and without telling her that the human wanted her to have them back?” He grabbed some of the pods that had cooled down and started shelling, “The coins aren’t going to be any use if no one knows they’re there.”
Dagrim grunted “Well they aren’t any use to register our lands unless we can get another and then five more before winter to pay the taxes. Between these three, my seven and the eight Enkara, Hazi and Uanna have, we only have eighteen large out of the nineteen we need just for the registration.”
Anbir considered, then nodding to himself said “Have you talked to Shua?”
Dagrim grunted “She trades with humans. She even uses a human name.”
“Yes, and humans trade in coins. They also like the pictures Shua makes with thread. You saw. Sarai’s eyes grew three times their size when she was looking at the mittens Shua handed her, and she kept stroking the flowers Shua used to cover the rips in her clothes.” Anbir smiled, “It could be that humans have been paying Shua coins for her sewing.”
Dagrim grunted.
Anbir rubbed his chin, looking sideways at Dagrim. “If Shua pays into registering the land with us, she wouldn’t be moving on into the same tribe as Hurin next Summer.”
Dagrim glared at Anbir.
Anbir grabbed a few more cooled pods and then concentrated on shelling them as he spoke in an off-hand manner “And if someone were to build her a permanent shelter right next to where he built his own, he might just happen to see her every day. Someone might even happen to pass by and notice things that needed doing for her while she was there sewing, things that would mean having to sit beside her for a time while he’s fixing her tables and stands and such.”
Dagrim grabbed one of the pods, hot from the coals, and threw it at him.

Chapter 6

Two months later, on her afternoon off, Sarai dressed in some of the finery from Gishkim’s basket and a large red shawl draped crossways over the worn green tunic, her festival best since the golden centaur had adorned it.
She walked to the grains and spice store near Eastern Well and climbed the narrow spiral steps to the restaurant on the roof. Lining up, she soon reached the stall, paying a Thalathah for a set of skewers to be put on the braiser, and a couple half Wahid for the sweet flatbread that had drawn her to this stall. Sarai had found the eatery when the scent of herbs, reminding her of the flavours from the centaurs sweetbreads, wafted down to the street when she had passed by one day.
After collecting her food, Sarai found a spot next to the wooden cage full of rabbits and cavy, set out of sight of the slaughter table. Offering the small animals the weeds she had collected while walking through the streets, she scratched their noses as they nuzzled her fingers asking for more.
Sarai finished her meal and watched the sun set before heading down the stairs to the road.
Walking toward the guardhouse, Sarai ran into her cousin Manessah leading a couple of private soldiers from the merchant families. They had come to coordinate for the barley and strawberry harvest festivals which would both be happening the same week.
In two weeks the first batches of new beer for the year were going to be delivered to the city along with the first harvest of fruit abundant enough to take to market. Between the farmers and merchants and those who just wanted a taste, Helam’s population would soon double.
“Hi Sarai.” Manessah waved at her and she smiled back. “Ira, Libni, this is my cousin Sarai. She’s on her half day, but she’s one of the new guards. You’ll probably run into each other frequently during the festivals’ week.”
Sarai nodded at the men. “It’s good to meet you. I hope everything goes smoothly.”
Ira smiled and nodded at Sarai, and Libni reached for her hand with a grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. You look like you’re all ready for the festival?”
Extracting her hand with a smile, Sarai shook her head. “Just celebrating my half day.”
Libni kept smiling and then reached out to lift up her necklace, moving closer to examine it. Sarai stepped back and Libni let the necklace drop, saying “Nice jewelry, but you should have it reworked so that it’s not so obvious that it’s centaur made, or everyone will think you can’t afford to pay the price for human work.”
Sarai frowned. “Are you telling me you think my jewelry is not well made?”
Libni quickly waved his hand in negation. “No it’s a beautiful piece, but everyone knows centaurs are so desperate for coins, you can haggle them down to a pittance.”
Her frown deepened. “It was a gift. I’m not going to get a gift remade just because people tend to cheat the people who gave it to me. You’re suggesting I pay someone to disrespect my friends’ kindness.”
Manessah stepped between them. “Hey, let’s continue on to the guardhouse. I need to introduce you to the clerk before end of day.” He waved the other men down the road. “I’ll just say goodbye to my cousin and then catch up with you.”
As soon as the other men got out of earshot, Manessah leaned over, saying “Aunt Eglah has been asking me to introduce some men to you. I take it Libni won’t be an option?”
Sarai glared at him. “He picked up something I was wearing, on my chest. My chest. Never mind what he said.” She sighed and shook her head. “No, I certainly do not want you to introduce him to me for Mother.”
Manessah nodded as he began backing away to follow the other men. “Well, I tried.” Winking, he continued. “At least I’ll be able to report that you talked to two, whole, real live men outside of work.” Turning, he waved goodbye and ran after the others.
Sarai shook her head as she turned to head home. She would have to write her mother and tell her she was too busy getting used to the city to search out a father for her future grandchildren just yet.

Chapter 7

It was early morning on the third day of the barley and strawberry harvest festivals when Dagrim led a group of ten into Helam.
The centaurs strode through the gates, larger males surrounding those who were younger, older or smaller.
Pausing at each guard Dagrim, Anbir and Hazi took turns asking if they spoke Kéntavros, then repeated the human phrase “Deed Office”, which Shua had spent days drilling with them.
The centaurs grew more and more skitterish as they made their way through crowds, surrounded by fragile humans sticking their breakable feet far too close to hooves.
Following pointing fingers, the group ended up at the guardhouse, where they again asked for “Deed Office’, or someone who could understand their language.
The guards talked amongst themselves before sending someone into the building.
A man came out and stood at the top of the stairs doing his best to look down at them, and after considering the look on the human’s face, Anbir patted Dagrim on the shoulder and stepped in front of him to deal with this person who would likely be far too much for Dagrim’s thinning patience.

Sarai came back to the guardhouse for midday meal, along with Ozni who she’d been partnered with that day, only to find the way blocked by a mass of centaurs.
Hoping onto a chair outside a nearby shop, her eyes widened as she saw Dagrim at the base of the stairs to the guardhouse. He was gripping one of the senior guards by the front of his uniform and holding him so that he was stretched out over the stairs with his tip toes barely keeping purchase against the strip of wood along the stair edge. The guard’s helmet hung off the back of his head, kept in place by the chin ties hooked onto his nose. Anbir stood at his side, trying to calm his friend and the nearby guards at the same time, and the golden female stood nearby, speaking a mix of trade speech and Kéntavros beseechingly to the guards.
Over the rump of the nearest centaur, Sarai spotted a tuft of grey hair.
Untying and pulling off her helmet, Sarai waved to the closest centaur facing almost in her direction and shouted “Namazu? Hili?” and pointed in the direction of the tuft of grey hair.
The male looked startled and displeased, but then an aged hand hit him on his lower chest and he backed up with a frown, looking down at the elderly female pushing at him to back out of the way.
Once the male had been displaced to Namazu’s satisfaction, she stepped forward and grabbed Sarai’s free hand and then slapped at the helmet in her other hand.
Sarai quickly plopped the helmet back on her head, letting the side flaps dangle, and Namazu pulled Sarai’s hands closer to examine the palms she had treated after the human had gotten Gishkim out of the wyvern’s nest. Once the elder was satisfied enough to let go, Sarai patted her chest, then pointed to the front of the crowd, saying “I have to talk to Dagrim.”
Namazu nodded vigorously saying something Sarai interpreted as ‘You had bloody well better.’ and then hit the rump of the closest large male in Sarai’s way, shouting and gesturing in a way that Sarai took to mean ‘Let her through and make sure the ones in front of you do too.’
Sarai hopped off the chair and quickly made it to the front of the group as the centaurs moved aside to let her through, each letting the centaur in front of them know they should do the same.

Dagrim had had enough.
They had spent hours hemmed in and funneled through narrow streets, with signs and flags on poles sticking out of the buildings at shoulder height making the way even narrower. Humans constantly ran past, through spaces that were too close. And the few humans who were willing to stop and listen to their request for “Deed Office” all pointed them to this building which looked like a barracks rather than an office filled with bureaucracy. And to top it all off, the idiot in front of him was confidently shouting some kind of gibberish, almost Kéntavros, and made just enough sense to let him know they had been sent to the Wrong Place!
He’d grabbed Idiot (that was his name now. Dagrim had decided), and immediately realized his mistake. Dagrim was now stuck holding Idiot while trying to figure out how to let him go without Idiot’s fellow guards taking the opportunity to attack.
And then he heard his name.
Turning his head, he saw Sarai running up the stairs, pulling her helmet off so he could clearly see her face and saying something that sounded placating.
Dagrim took the opportunity. He pushed Idiot fully back onto the top step and let him go, then bowed deeply and respectfully to Sarai.
Watching the other guards out of the corner of his eyes, Dagrim held the bow, thinking at them ‘See what a well behaved, good centaur I am, harmless and obedient as long as I’m dealing with someone who’s not an idiot.’
Sarai, looking greatly relieved, held up her hand to him, and then when Dagrim did nothing more than straighten up and stand there hunching his shoulders, in a failed attempt to look smaller, she turned to look at Idiot. She started to speak, turned her head to give Dagrim a quick glance, then turned back to Idiot and spoke to him.
Idiot replied with some long winded explanation, with Sarai asking questions, until Idiot said something that made her narrow her eyes. Dagrim could not understand what she said to Idiot after that, but by the end he was pleased to see the man deflated.
Sarai then stood looking at the tribe for a long moment before she took a deep breath, bowed to the group and stepped down two stairs so that she could look up at them and spoke.

Molid was an idiot.
When she’d asked what he and the centaurs had been talking about, Molid had said “They asked me where the deed office was, and I told them it was in the properties office of the courts building, but they’ll need currency if they want to do any business with the office.”
Sarai replied “They have coins, and they have at least one sought after craftsperson to earn more. Why didn’t you just guide them to the courts building? Even if they didn’t have money, once you got them there they’d be not your problem, in addition to it being where they asked to go?”
Then with full confidence Molid began, “That centaur…” He pointed at Anbir, and Sarai clarified “Anbir?”
Molid was taken aback “What does that mean?”
“That’s his name.” Sarai replied.
Looking disgruntled, Molid continued. “Well, he babbled nonsense, and when I tried to clarify, that big brute…”
“Dagrim” Sarai interrupted.
“What!?” Molid asked.
“The big brute’s name is Dagrim.” Sarai replied blandly.
“I don’t care! He grabbed me!”
Sarai mulled this over for a moment, then asked “If you couldn’t understand the centaurs, why did you think they would understand you?”
Puffing out his chest Molid replied. “I am an expert in Kéntavros. I learned the language at the university in Nachon city and was greatly praised by my teachers. They even asked me to tutor the younger learners before I started my second year!”
“Human teachers?” Sarai asked.
“Of course, human teachers.” Molid huffed.
“Teaching Kéntavros in the North Westernmost area of the kingdom two months travel by fast horse from here?” Sarai asked
Molid paused, as realization started to filter into his brain “...yes.”
Gently, Sarai asked. “Is it possible that you were taught a dialect that’s spoken in the North, or maybe even a version spoken only by human scholars, and not the dialect that’s spoken here?”
Molid did not reply.
Sarai turned away from him and stood looking at the tribe, trying to think of a way to fix this. The only thing she could think to do was to do what she had told Molid that he should have done and guide them to the courts building. It wouldn’t undo the damage done by Molid, but at least things shouldn’t get worse. She bowed to the centaurs from the top step then stepped down far enough that she was lower than everyone but still visible. Waving her arms in the direction of the courts building, she shouted “Deeds Office!” as loud as she could, and walked down the stairs and along the road.
Sarai was two houses along, with the centaurs following behind, before she remembered to shout back “Ozni! I’m going to take them to the courts! I’ll probably finish my shift with them. Can you clear it with the administrator?”
“You go, take them away! I’ll go back and clear it and get someone to grab you some food!” Ozni shouted and waved her off.
Five blocks later Ozni, along with Peleg and Haggith, guards known for their mellow temperaments, caught up with her and handed Sarai a clay water bottle and a fried pastry stuffed with beans from a bundle tied to his belt.
As she bit into the bun Ozni said “I told Administrator that you somehow talked a large group of centaurs out of pummelling Molid, defused their ire and moved them off our doorstep. And that you were guiding them on their way to being the properties office’s problem. She said that this is now your assignment for the day, and even for the week if need be. Just send one of us back to let them know if things go past sunset. Peleg, Haggith and I have been assigned to walk the corners of the crowd for you so that we can divert anyone that wants to start something with the centaurs. Congratulations! You’re now leading your first patrol!”
Sarai mumbled her gratitude around a mouthful of bun and shifted the food in her hands so that she could give him a thumbs up.
Once she had finished the food and brushed off the crumbs, the golden female moved forward through the crowd to approach her.
She walked alongside Sarai for a bit, and then said in trades. “You travel us Deed Office?”
Sarai nodded, surprised, and replied in trades. “Yes. We” She gestured to include herself and all the centaurs. “traveling properties office. Properties office inside courts building. Deed office inside properties office.”
They traveled silently for a bit, then Sarai asked “You didn’t talk to translator?”
The golden female answered “Listened. Translator Stultus talked wrong.”
“Stultus?”
The golden female smiled with a glint in her eye, “Dagrim name gave.”
“Stultus meaning?” Sarai asked, but Shua shook her head in answer, her smile growing.
Sarai decided it was better not to know and switched topics. “Your name?”
“Shua.” Shua replied.
Sarai nodded. “You talk to deed office?”
Shua looked like someone gathering their courage, then nodded firmly. Then she looked at Sarai. “You talk deed office?”
Sarai nodded. “I’ll help.”

There were no laws against centaurs participating in commerce, but buildings where financial exchange and bargaining took place were mostly built for humans. And, the more official the building, the narrower the doors and the lower the ceiling.
Buildings built for the King's business were notoriously awkward to enter into even for humans, especially for those who had grown large, whether from military training or from the indulgence of wealth. With narrow corridors and ducking lintels designed to force the proud to bow, it was almost impossible to create an imposing presence by wearing heavy armor and long weapons that stuck out, catching corners. Trailing fabric, expansive sleeves and tall headdresses were similarly deflated. The ability to enter a room standing tall, with massive hats of office and accompanied by whatever number of assistants they could muster, was reserved for the staff of the courts, who could enter rooms through wide back doors.
The guards and the centaurs arrived at the building of the properties office and stood surveying the structure.
The widest door was the main entrance, which had a double door, but was still only half again as wide as the single doors at the guardhouse. Every entrance that led into the courts building was short.
Sarai looked up the stairs to the landing, just deep enough to accommodate the swing of the door, and then at Dagrim.
He caught her staring at him and smiled wryly, shaking his head and waving his hand in negation. He stepped back and gestured Anbir forward.
Shua stepped up as well, saying in trades “Anbir, Sarai, Shua go.”
Sarai nodded. Getting into the building did seem a little less impossible with the smaller male and the golden female, but she still couldn’t figure out how they were going to get through the corridors.
Then Dagrim looked back, stomped his front hoof twice and jerked his head at someone Sarai couldn’t see through the crowd.
The crowd parted, and one of the males came forward drawing a small cart and pulled out four wheeled objects. Each was made from a flat piece of wood, a bit more than half her height in length, one end cut straight and the other curved out in a semicircle. They had padded leather cushions nailed to one side and each had four small cart wheels. Two of them had a metal ball hitch attached to the curved end, and the other two had a bent metal ring, so that they appeared to fit together. On each corner of the flat ends the wood had been carved with holes that could accommodate a rope. Dagrim reached into the cart and pulled out four wooden canes, each with two legs, joined at three points with crossbars, and tipped with resin.
Dagrim handed the canes to Anbir and then grabbed two of the wheeled objects and hooked them together into one long contraption and placed it on the ground. Shua awkwardly lowered herself to kneel on them, looking at Sarai. The centaur’s height had been reduced by about a third, though she would probably still have to bow to get through the doorways, and the hinge created by the hitch and ring looked like it would let them maneuver around corners. Sarai noticed for the first time that Shua’s tail had been braided and bundled into a short stub that was unlikely to get caught on anything. She glanced at Anbir and saw that his tail was styled in the same manner.
Dagrim helped Shua get up and off the contraption, then handed her a small bundle from inside his tunic. He handed Anbir a leather budget with intricately carved decorations, then separated the contraption into two parts, arranged all four wheeled objects under his arm, and stood looking at Sarai expectantly. She nodded and then turned to Ozni, saying in common tongue “I’m going to go in with them. You and the others stay with the other centaurs. They should be fine, but keep anyone passing by calm. You could say…” She thought for a moment. “Just let anyone who asks know that they are a peaceful delegation and are waiting for their representatives to come back from inside. Stress that they are being courteous by all staying outside and not clogging the hallways.”

Dagrim walked carefully up the stairs carrying the wheeled boards. They had been crafted tens of years ago by a tribe near Nachon, and were sent to any centaurs that would need to deal with human bureaucracy. It would be his task to repair and store them afterwards, until he could deliver them to the next group who needed them. He didn’t like the way the wheels had to be tightened before each use and already had plans to make a set to keep, and many thoughts on how to better the design.
When they got near the top of the stairs, Sarai hurried forward to open the doors, holding one against the side of the building and calling to one of the other guards who ran up the stairs to hold the other door.
Handing the set of wheeled boards he had spent several days repairing to Shua, Dagrim placed the front piece from the other set on the landing, rolled it partially into the corridor and hooked the back half on. Since the landing was too narrow to fit the whole thing, the back wheels hung in the air and Dagrim braced it. Anbir handed Sarai the four canes and climbed onto the wheeled boards, bending his upper body so that he could fit under the low ceiling, and kneeled on the padded surface.
Once he was settled, Anbir took back a pair of canes, and tucked them against his side. He braced his hands against the walls on either side of the corridor and pulled himself forward.
Feeling the wheels catch as they rolled, Anbir yelled back at Dagrim. “You spent days fixing these, how come they’re still rickety?”
“The other one needed more work, so I concentrated on it once I made sure yours was safe.”
Anbir grunted and moved forward. Once he was far enough in, he stopped and looked back to see Shua’s wheeled boards gliding smoothly forward as she pulled herself along using her canes.
Anbir smiled to himself and then waited until Sarai made her way down the corridor, edging around the two centaurs and murmuring what sounded like apologies whenever she had to brace her hands against their backs and shoulders to make it through the narrow space they’d left her.
With their human there to hold open doors, help them when they got stuck on corners, and speak to the humans running around inside the building, they soon made it to the office they needed.
Emerging through the doors to the rooms of the properties offices, the centaurs were relieved to find it spacious by human standards. The first room was tall enough for Shua to stand if she bowed her head, and wide enough to accommodate a large table with wide doorless entryways at either side leading to other rooms.
Sitting at the table was someone with a very important looking hat and a thick iron necklace.
Sarai talked to the elderly man under the hat and was directed to a room to the left. She walked over and poked her head in to ask some questions. Apparently hearing an agreeable answer, she nodded and then waved the centaurs over.
Anbir helped Shua up off her wheeled boards, then rolled over to look through the door. The room was small, holding chairs, and a desk where a small chubby human with a moderately impressive hat sat looking out at them. Several shelves filled with scrolls, stacks of low boxes and piles of papers lined the walls. But the ceiling matched the height of the outer room, so Shua would be able to enter on her hooves.
While Sarai pulled most of the chairs out to the main room, leaving just one to the far side, Anbir maneuvered off of his wheeled boards, unhooking and stacking them and Shua added hers to the pile before rolling them to a corner.
Taking the leather budget containing their maps and a request for the deed to the lands they traditionally wintered in, Shua ducked under the doorframe and entered the room.
Shua kneeled facing the man behind the desk and negotiations began.

Sarai watched as the clerk looked over the map Shua brought out and then checked the location against several more maps he pulled off the shelves, each with different outlines and shaded in spaces. Once he determined that their location was unclaimed, he pulled out a ledger and began writing in the land size, distance from the nearest city and the number of water sources, calculating the value.
Finally he looked up at Sarai “This looks all in order, tell them they will need to bring nineteen sitta for the deed along with five for the first year's taxes.”
Shua replied in trades “We have all.”, startling the clerk, and pulled out the bundle Dagrim had given her, counting out eighteen sitta, then untied and drew out a belt she wore under her tunic. It was strung with three rings full of khamsah and a purse out of which Shua pulled two sab’ah. Watching around the door frame, Anbir yelped and he and Shua had a short conversation in Kéntavros before Anbir grunted and nodded.
The clerk counted all the coins into a box, including sixty khamsah, which he pulled one by one off the rings. Then he pulled a book of contracts off the shelf behind him and brought out a couple thick pieces of paper. He copied a page titled deeds and another titled land tax onto the papers, adding in the location and size of the property, and the amounts paid. “Very good, now we just need three arba’ah for the registration fee and I’ll be able to send this out to be stamped and a copy made for the King’s records.”
Seeing Shua’s mouth drop open, Sarai stood up from her chair and walked over, partially screening her from the clerk, to whisper in trades “Have?”
Shua blinked and then dug into her purse, pulling out three wahid and a thalathah, enough for a cheap meal at a street stall, but only a tenth of what they needed to finish the costs. The centaur grabbed Sarai’s arm to stop her when she pulled out her own purse, but Sarai only had a couple half wahid anyway.
Sarai turned to the clerk, switching back to common tongue. “Could they borrow the amount for the registration fee? I would vouch for them.”
The clerk shook his head. “We’re required to receive all funds in real coins.”
Sarai nodded, then turned to Shua in trades. “Others have coins?”, but Shua shook her head.
Closing her eyes, Sarai thought, then said “I have.”
Shua shook her head, but Sarai patted her hand and said. “Sewing for me, pay before.” At Shua’s nod, she turned to the clerk. “Can they wait here and I’ll come back with the money? Shua is a skilled sewist, so I’d be pleased to hire her, but I’ll have to run home and back for payment.”
The clerk raised an eyebrow, but nodded and said “You have two hours until end of day.”
Raising clasped hands to her forehead in thanks, Sarai almost ran out the door to the outer corridor, before grabbing the doorframe and swinging back to shout in trades “Shua! How Kéntavros say everything is okay, stay put until I get back?”

Dagrim saw Sarai bolt out of the door without Anbir and Shua, and rose to stand so fast he banged every knee and fetlock.
The human ran down the stairs in a way that looked impossible to the centaur, barely stopping to shout something to the other guards, before skidding to a halt in front of him and taking a deep breath and saying in garbled Kéntavros “Good, stay, here soon.” and then ran down the street. He looked after her puzzled, then at the other guards who seemed unbothered.
The guard Ozni, who had talked to Sarai as if they were friends when they were walking through the streets, shrugged at him, then made a gesture like patting the air that may have been meant as comfort or to ask him to lay back down, before walking up the stairs and through the door.
The sun had lowered a full hand when Sarai came back. She paused at the base of the stairs to bend over, resting her hands on her knees panting. She gathered her breath, then straightened and ran up the stairs.
Some time later Ozni came out and resumed his place waiting with the centaurs.

Sarai arrived at the clerk's desk, placed a pile of coins on the top a bit less gently then she should have, then dropped into the nearby chair.
Ozni stuck his head in “So, should I go back out?”
Short of breath, Sarai nodded and waved him away.
The clerk counted the coins and swept them into a small box, separate from the box he’d stored the purchase and tax funds and said in trades “Done. You wait for stamp.” and reached back to tug a curled metal wire sticking out of the wall behind him. Soon an assistant came in and took the papers.
While they waited, the clerk drew out some thin paper to write on. He handed it to Sarai, and she saw that it was a letter of debt for three arba’ah. “Put your name here.” he pointed to the space for creditor, and after Sarai filled her name he handed the paper to Shua “And your name here.” pointing to the debtor’s spot. Smiling, Shua painted ink on her thumb and pressed it onto the paper. The clerk took it back and examined the mark before turning to Sarai “Do you accept this contract without her written name?”
Sarai shrugged. “I was going to accept just her word, so… yes?”
The clerk frowned at her, clearly offended by the idea of an agreement without paperwork, then took out a small stamp and marked the page in the bottom left corner. “Two ithnan for the notarization.” Sarai pulled out her two half wahid and held them up.
Shua smiled and handed the clerk a thalathah, receiving an ithnan in return, and the clerk handed Sarai the paper.
They continued to wait.
The assistant returned just before end of day with the papers, each now decorated with a large blue stamp.

Sarai opened the double doors to the outside and waved Ozni over to hold open one side while she held the other.
Dagrim went up the stairs and caught the front of Anbir’s wheeled boards as he came to the door. Pulling the board out, he held Anbir’s hand so that he could stand with his front legs as Dagrim unhooked the front wheeled board and then handed it to Ozni, then Dagrim held onto the back wheeled board as Anbir used Dagrim’s back as a railing while he climbed off of the contraption and rotated himself to gingerly back down the stairs. Ozni called one of the other guards, who grabbed both halves of the wheeled boards and carted them down the stairs before coming back up to wait for the next load.
Once Anbir was clear, they repeated the process for Shua, though she was used to stairs and didn’t need Dagrim’s support once she was on steady ground. At Anbir’s suggestion she guided Dagrim down the stairs instead.
Once everyone was back on flat ground, Anbir reached into the leather budget and pulled out a pair of thick paper pages and held them aloft triumphantly.
“We have registered the deed for our winter lands! We can build!”
The centaurs cheered.

Three months later, Dagrim returned to Helam.
He met Hurin at the gate, handing off the cart holding the wheeled boards to the other centaur, along with a basket of sweet roasted spiced nuts from his wedding to Shua for Hurin to distribute to his tribe.
That happy business done, Dagrim headed into the city.
He made his way to the guardhouse and asked for Sarai with the first guard he met. After being gestured at to stay put, he waited patiently, only to grunt in disgust when he saw Idiot come out to greet him.
Fortunately, Idiot was smart enough to stand there silently, after asking another guard something that included Sarai’s name, and not make anything worse.
The other guard left, and after some time, Sarai came down the road. Pulling off her helmet as she walked, she smiled widely and waved a greeting as soon as she got near.
Speaking one of the human phrases Shua had taught him, he handed her the bundle he’d been carrying on his back. “Your clothing.”
Sarai eagerly pulled it open, and drew out the two tunics inside.
The rest of the centaurs had departed right after receiving the deed, but Datrim had stayed to accompany Shua while she measured and planned Sarai’s clothing and waited until the next morning so that Sarai could buy the blue fabric they had decided on.
The wrists, hems and collars of the tunics were covered in embroidery. One had red flowers and bees, the other a double handswidth of green leaves.
Sarai held them out to get a better look and her eyes got bigger than Dagrim had thought possible, just like Anbir said they would.
She said something that Dagrim interpreted as gratitude while holding the tunics against herself, and handed Dagrim Shua’s letter of debt.
He solemnly ripped it in half before folding the remains and tucking them respectfully in the front of his jacket. Dagrim then pulled out a bundle of spiced nuts, handing them to her with a smile, and said the next phrases Shua had taught him. “Shua married me. Share wedding.”
Sarai said something in a happy, quiet scream. Smiling and chatting at him, she tasted the nuts before holding the bundle against her chest and bowing her thanks.
Dagrim bowed in return, then waved goodbye and turned towards the gate, towards home.