Finarvi — Viewing Fields
????, Sea Season
Sea Season, direct follow-on from last log. [[[S02:session-32|Session 32]]]
Venlar picks his way with surprising care past the children playing by the door, as if he has never yet fallen over on someone that small, and does not want to. He signals to someone – probably one of his thralls – to come and saddle up a horse for Mellia, although he does his own.
Mellia thanks the nice man and gets into the saddle.
“As I understand it, most of these are running horses, not riding horses,” Venlar muses. “For shorter journeys or chariot work.” He manages to get on without disgracing himself. His mount is large enough for him, as long as he does not press the issue – while it is a tall example of a Sartarite horse, he is a tall example of a Sartarite person.
“I admit I was surprised when I first saw them,” says Finarvi. He walks amiably besides Mellia and Venlar. “My mount is near Yehna’s, outside the palisade. I’ll retrieve her on the way. I have proven to everyone here that I cannot outrun a horse, even these little ones.” He grins.
“Oh… I will need to do that at some point. I have a history with mud…” Venlar looks like he is wondering about fleeing Sartar rather than getting dirty.
Finarvi makes an agreeable noise. If he was in Venlar’s place, the horizon would be tempting him too.
“There are several places that Yamia has picked out,” Venlar says. “Five hides in all must be transferred, as well as those my father bought.”
Finarvi listens patiently while the Sambari noble talks about title deeds and other incomprehensibles. They walk at a leisurely pace back to Yehna’s holding, where Fin whistles for Madryn. The roan mare trots over, and for a wonder Redoubtable comes with her for once. He treats them both to a mouthful of dried apple while he saddles Madryn.
Venlar is obviously knowledgeable about law, perhaps not so much about the way that things are in the Blue Tree Tula. Redoubtable is obviously considering evil, but he keeps it at bay for a while.
Finarvi swings lightly into the saddle. “That’s better,” he announces. “Which way first?”
“Up to a rise that looks like an alynx, and turn left,” Venlar says, indicating the broad but rocky pasture that leads that way. “And… now we are away from people here, what do you think about the village as it stands?”
“They are wonderful people, but I fear for them.”
Venlar nods, and looks to Finarvi for input.
“They are in a better position than last year, now relations with the Alynxfish clan are improving,” Finarvi ventured. “But the threat from Tusk Riders and Dragon newts has not gone away. Having the Malani warriors around should help.”
“And the harvests?” Venlar checks.
“Not as poor as they had in Apple Lane, I think.” Finarvi sounds uncertain. Farming is something that happens to other people.
Venlar nods. “Food is going to be tight here,” he says, “But if the next harvest is good, all will be well.” It is not exactly a judgement on the place, but unsaid parts of the declaration hang in the air.
Mellia mutters something, possibly a prayer.
They ride in companionable silence for a while. The Grazelander is more relaxed out here, away from palisades and walls.
Venlar has the map of where to go in his mind, and there are several fields he looks at happily, watching the early season ploughing in one, and the turn-out of horses into another. “We do that with cows, where I am from. But at least they have an ox-team for the plough.”
Finarvi periodically scans the horizon for danger, but he’s clearly happy to be outdoors.
“The fields look good. We must hope the Mighty Mother is kind,” Mellia says.