Book One: Onnu and Pannu

Trade and Resources

Weaver deftly arranged for the trade of mushrooms, cave yeast (for lack of a better term), and their mineral goods for some of her limited supply of peryarn, some clay bowls, shoes as Stan had them available, and what foodstuffs Clay and Dean could make portable.
   Bjorn said they didn't need much peryarn at the moment; just enough to stitch their leather clothing together more securely than the woven moss they'd been using. They saved the gut strings for their instruments, made of the shells of a subterranean creature they just called "roly poly", though they didn't resemble the creature from Erdewaz. As best he could describe them, they must look like a softshell turtle and a mushroom got mixed together.
   They might decide to export the instruments at a later date, Bjorn said, but they wanted to exchange the things they made the most for the things they needed the most. Luxuries would wait, he said.
   They would trade roasted creatures across the board, as they had extras, to spice up their diets. Onnu got the feeling that they bordered on the ascetic, but varying one's diet was good for the health, so they didn't see it as a luxury. Music was good for the soul, so that would be seen as necessary.
   She did wonder, though, why they made pretty beads, if they knew they wouldn't use them. When they'd been trading for a while, she got up the nerve to ask, and he laughed.
   "There was nothing we needed that could be made with such pretty stones, so why not make things that others will trade for? Then we aren't depleting a vital resource."
   "That actually makes perfect sense," she chuckled. He stood taller, and she reminded herself to be careful how she spoke to them. Not that she wouldn't point out the very logical methodology, but compliments... She wasn't sure what would happen when he got home. If they borderline worshipped dragons, any perceived favor could sow discord in the mountains.
   Except he said they had a dragon in their caves, so how does that factor in? Would an air dragon's favor be more or less valuable than a stone dragon's favor? The whole thing made her head hurt. She didn't see anyone as more or less valuable than anyone else, and trying to think that way just felt wrong.
   So she didn't.
   The mushrooms did, indeed, thicken stews and gravies, but Clay also added them to stir fry preparations and roasts. The cave yeast leavened their bread, and the mosses were traded for use in dyes. Dean made a killer mushroom sauce that even impressed Bjorn.
   Firmen traded for the materials to make the collar, but none of the chain was fine enough for his new friend. The mountain clan hadn't made jewelry grade chain that fine yet, as their tools were too large. Bjorn suggested their own craftsmen play around with the metals, to see what they could come up with.
   Firmen decided to name the khagulo Wraith, because he could hide on his body so well, the healers had a hard time finding him to work on his wounds. He had to pry the little thing away from him and hold his arm out for treatment. Wraith suffered it with ill grace, trying to find new places to hide each day. Eventually, they declared him fit enough to recover on his own merit, and Wraith settled down.
   That isn't to say he stopped finding creative ways to hide, but Firmen allowed it. He considered it an enrichment activity. It was better than having a bored khagulo on one's person, and no one knew what they were capable of. As much as he enjoyed research, he wasn't keen on learning that by experimentation!
   He brought Wraith out to the grove, or one of the lone trees on the plains, every day, once he was healed. He hovered over the little khagulo, in case there was another liala hiding nearby. Maggie reminded him that if there were, Wraith would be the first to know, but he was quick to point out how their lives had become intertwined, in the first place.
   When they were outside of the Hold, Wraith was alert. He would perch atop Firmen's head, or wrap around his neck, and his little eyes would swivel three hundred and sixty degrees the whole time. Once they reached what he learned was the safety of the Hold, and the healers stopped poking and prodding, he would fall asleep coiled around Firmen's neck. He grew so relaxed, Firmen had a sling made so he wouldn't fall off his shoulders... again. Wraith did not find it as amusing as everyone else, so he was attempting to save his little friend's dignity.
   When they were around the traders, however, Onnu bid Wraith hide as well as he was able. Bjorn and his companions' eyes were a little too keen for their taste. They didn't know what tasks they would come up with for Wraith to do, and they didn't want to know. The idea of him being stuck underground, away from the trees that sustained him, gave all who knew khagulos the shivers. Firmen took to "wandering" away when they met the traders, on the pretext of studying the forest denizens or gathering supplies.
   The other Holds were kept in the dark, as well, which was a difficult decision to make. Onnu was concerned for the welfare of the wild khagulo populations, should the kin elsewhere take a shine to having their own personal scouts. Firmen feared they wouldn't understand how important it was to bring them to the trees, or the trees to them, as often as possible. They were trying to be good stewards of the land and its resources, and who knew what impact it would have, to remove so many of the scouts that the woodland animals relied so heavily on? They surely didn't, and felt it irresponsible to act as though they did.