The Chronicle of Katya the Wanderer

Yuri the Gentleman

Written in 532 AU 34th of Summer

From my own memory and that of the recordkeeper

As soon as I woke up, I found old Hugh writing away in the corner on what I presumed were important documents. The air in that dormitory was freezing so I spent at least half an hour awake but cowering from the cold under the thin military blanket. When I did finally get out of bed and get dressed, I walked up behind his chair trying to peer over his long gray hair and bony hunched back.

"What are you writing?"

He sighed "A letter."

"To who?"

"My wife back in Sunton."

"What's she like?"

"Why do you care to know? Are you a suitor seeking her fancy? These old bones can still hold a rapier just so you know." He turned around pointing a finger at me in an accusatory fashion. He began to giggle lightly after looking at the embarrassed look on my face.

"If you want to know so badly, I'll tell you." He offered.

"No, it's fine." I replied timidly.

"Well if you don't mind, I have a question for you. What is a village girl like you traveling so far from home?"

"Wanted to." I said plainly.

"You want me to believe that? Trust me girl, the world away from home is a world not worth living in."

"I don't think so, seeing snow and pines all my life is gonna get boring, and a boring life isn't worth living."

"Quite the adventurous aren't you. Well... not my place to stop you. However, I oughta warn you, down south the vice grip of the law is much tighter. They won't let a common girl like you travel freely. In my opinion, you ought to travel in noble fashion."

"But, I'm no noble."

"No one is born a noble, babies don't come out of their mother's womb reciting ancient poems nor do they come out with perfect knowledge of court etiquette or an affinity for the flute. Nobles are born in rooms with their tutors and governesses. I am no royal tutor, however I was quite the diplomat in my day. I can teach you how to write, how to dance, how to sway the hearts of both men and women."

"Really!?" I popped in excitement.

"With one caveat, you will no longer be a fair country maiden. You shall take on the face of a wily and charming gentleman by the name of ... Hold on ..."

"Oh, how about Yuri?"

"Hmm..." he pondered for a second imagining how the ladies of Sunton would think of the fair young man Yuri with his distant foreign name, dirty blonde hair and unfamiliar accent.

"Excellent choice, girl. The moment you leave this fort, you shall be Yuri Tomson -- son of a wealthy burgess involved in the sale of lumber and sent south to seek a position at court."

"This is all quite exciting, isn't it? Dancing in the great halls of the royal palace, traveling far and wide in silk and carriage, and -"

"Well hold on, my tutelage comes at a steep price. Help me with my work here at the fort and then I'll teach all I know."

"A deal only a fool wouldn't take." I reached out my hand and he reached out his to meet it. We shook on the matter.

I would meet with the old man at night to be tutored in etiquette, writing, and all matters of culture, while during the day I helped him with the endless amount of paperwork he was tasked with. It was a lot of counting pelts, looking through wagons, checking permits, balancing the books along with the quartermaster and other such bureaucratic tedium.

In three cycles, I would make preparations to leave for Sunton, the largest city in all of Anthwyn and then I planned to advance further onto the king's court at Andaric's Hall. During the week before my first voyage, I wrote to my parents promising that in my next letter, I would be writing from an ocean away from home. However, the issue of crossing the sea was rather difficult to resolve. I tried to persuade the lieutenant to allow me to travel with him along with his escort; he was not convinced. Out of desperation, I pleaded with him to at least allow me to stay on the convict ship, which was set to sail right behind his ship. Through much back-and-forth conversation, I was finally permitted to board the Scarborough along with approximately three hundred other men.

Packing my bags, I put emphasis on my writing supplies trying my best to stuff them in without damaging the delicate paper or breaking my treasured quill. The old record keeper had gifted me a rather ornate pen case for my quill, on the top side was a painted image of Andaric's victory at Mount Varus. It depicted the First King of Summer holding his sword to the throat of Varus as he stood triumphantly in front of his fallen foe. The old poems say that Varus's blood burned with such rage at his first and only defeat that it melted enough snow to create the God's Mouth. I packed the old man's gift in a leather pouch and put it atop the rest of the belongings in my bag.

Soon, I would set out to sea, with the massive bridge which sews the Hound's Mouth shut behind me. Soon I will arrive in the city Andaric built and hopefully, I'll find my way to his summer palace. From here I will no longer be writing about the past, now everything is ahead of me.