Chapter 11: Date with an academic

‘Well, I wouldn’t want them to think that I overcharged,’ Bilar explained over tea. They’d headed back out of the inner city to find somewhere to pass the rest of the morning before Bilar delivered her map.

‘Of course,’ Wirrin smiled. ‘And you wouldn’t want to give the impression that you’ll get everything done ahead of time or they’ll start to expect it from you.’

‘I knew you were smart, Wirrin.’ Bilar smiled back and sipped her tea. ‘That’s what I like in a woman, brains.’

Wirrin nodded seriously. ‘I mostly look for age and maturity, myself.’

‘Ah, is that why you’ve no opportunities to practice seduction?’ Bilar grinned. ‘All the other adventurers are too young.’

Wirrin snorted. ‘I practice my seduction plenty, thank you very much.’

‘I suppose it worked on me.’ Bilar kept on grinning. ‘All you had to say is “food is better with company” and I swooned for your immeasurable charm.’

Wirrin chortled. ‘My charm is very measurable.’

Bilar pressed her thumb and index finger together. ‘Very measurable.’

Wirrin grinned and sipped her tea. ‘So what do you actually study, if it’s not maps of wetlands?’

‘Oh you certainly know the way to a woman’s heart, Wirrin,’ Bilar leaned in closer. ‘My area of interest is so niche I barely ever get to talk to anyone about it.’

‘Take me for a fool and explain it, then,’ Wirrin said, settling back in her chair.

‘I’ll make you regret that,’ Bilar grinned.

‘I doubt it,’ Wirrin smiled, tapping herself on the sternum to indicate Bilar’s lack of any Church pendant.

‘Oh, a southerner who’s not interested in theology, I’m deeply shocked,’ Bilar said, deadpan. ‘My entire understanding of society is shaken to its very roots.’

Wirrin chuckled. ‘Alright, fine. Tell me about your niche studies.’

‘How much do you know about the history of Toravan?’ Bilar asked.

‘Oh, not very much,’ Wirrin said. ‘Only that it was destroyed during the Gods’ War because it was where Tevinan had holed up.’

Bilar smiled. ‘I should have expected you to know about Tevinan, I suppose,’ she said. ‘But most people know about that much, yeah.’

Wirrin nodded. ‘But you, not being like most people?’

‘Have you heard of Halvit?’

Wirrin shook her head.

Bilar proceeded to explain the entire history of Toravan, from its founding by the Halvit family roughly eight hundred years ago to Tevinan taking over, to it being destroyed in the Gods’ War.

‘That doesn’t feel too niche,’ Wirrin said.

‘Oh, that’s just background,’ Bilar said. ‘I didn’t even mention what happened to Halvit when Tevinan took over Toravan.’

‘Explain it, then.’ Wirrin was quite enjoying both the new information and the look of glee on Bilar’s face as she explained. It was always fun to listen to someone explain something that they were interested in.

‘When Balleh said they wouldn’t fight Tevinan, Halvit immediately surrendered Toravan to them,’ Bilar said. ‘And then fled here, rather than be ruled by Tevinan.’

‘Well, I have heard that Tevinan were evil, so you wouldn’t want to stay somewhere they were in charge, surely,’ Wirrin deadpanned.

Bilar chuckled. ‘Southerner,’ she smiled. ‘When they got here, Balleh put them in charge of administering the city, which had previously not been a noble position.’

Wirrin nodded along.

‘Problem was that they were hilariously corrupt,’ Bilar continued. ‘They were removed from the position before the Gods’ War even started.’

‘That’s quick,’ Wirrin agreed.

‘Exactly,’ Bilar gestured with her tea spoon. ‘And then they, apparently, completely disappeared. There are a bunch of records to do with them being removed from the position. And then nothing.’

‘Surely they weren’t relevant at that point?’ Wirrin played along.

‘Well you’d think so.’ Bilar waved the tea spoon some more. ‘But then there are rumours, and nothing else, that they let the Church into the city.’

Wirrin nodded seriously. ‘So you want to learn more about Esbolva’s greatest heroes?’

Bilar chuckled. ‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘They didn’t resurface after Esbolva was taken over, so they mustn’t have been actual collaborators. But they founded and ran a fairly significant town for nearly three hundred years, before Tevinan took over.’

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‘So you want to know what happened to them?’

‘Oh, not exactly.’

Wirrin smiled. ‘That’s good. I was still thinking it wasn’t very niche.’

‘The Halvit family is niche,’ Bilar said. ‘I promise. But you actually nailed it with that hilarious joke of yours.’

‘Learning about heroes?’

‘Outside of the South, people generally agree that the Church is good,’ Bilar said. ‘I would argue that that’s true even in Tellen and Yantava, from my experiences there.’

Wirrin scrunched up her face a bit, dubious. ‘Depends what you mean by a good thing. But I’ll go with it.’

‘No wars, no famines, no standing armies,’ Bilar said. ‘I reckon if the battle over Bitalen hadn’t been as long as it was, Bitalen would like the Church more.’

Wirrin’s face stayed scrunched up. ‘I’ll go with it, but what’s your point?’

‘Ok, let’s go with something you’ll accept more easily,’ Bilar said. ‘The whole West loves the Church. That’s more their base than even Keredin in some ways, right?’

Wirrin smoothed her face out. ‘That was my experience as well.’

‘This observation holds up quite well once you’re north of Bitalen, is my point,’ Bilar said. ‘Even places that love the Church, aside from Keredin obviously, have stories somewhere about being betrayed during the Gods’ War. And it’s always someone like Halvit: corrupt, disgraced, or disreputable.’

‘Ok, now we’re getting somewhere,’ Wirrin said. ‘And I’m prepared to admit that you’re right about Tellan. It’s not a story I’ve chased, though.’

Bilar nodded. ‘It’s a very difficult story to chase,’ she said. ‘Most records from the Gods’ War and it’s immediate aftermath are in the care of the Church, and they won’t let me in to read them.’

It was Wirrin’s turn to point with her teaspoon. ‘So you do work for stupid rich people and hope they’ll let you read their old family journals and see if anyone wrote about the traitors.’ There was a rumbling in her head.

‘Which is also why I don’t go south anymore,’ Bilar said, nodding enthusiastically. ‘Everything down there is gone.’

‘We were not betrayed,’ Mkaer rumbled into Wirrin’s mind. ‘We were overwhelmed. Even in Mountain Side.’

‘So you’re interested because it doesn’t seem like any of it’s true?’ Wirrin asked, as the rumbling started to fade.

Bilar leaned across the table and beckoned to Wirrin. ‘It’s hard to research Church propaganda, Wirrin,’ she whispered. ‘But I still want to know if it was Church infiltrators covering up for themselves, or it was just a spontaneous sort of phenomenon.’

Wirrin smiled and whispered back. ‘Should we give that map to your stupid rich people and find somewhere to get lunch?’

Bilar patted Wirrin on the cheek. ‘See? Very smart.’

Wirrin and Bilar held hands on their way back into the city centre, where Bilar led the way through the old mansions, municipal buildings and what little of the old carvings and statues still existed, as well as the new Church buildings and statues and carvings.

‘They’re just so dull, in comparison,’ Wirrin complained as they passed an old statue garden that was mostly taken over by Church sculptures. Like their omnipresent carvings, the sculptures were solid and blocky representations of plants, suns, weapons, organs, and tools.

‘Depends what you’re into, does it?’ Bilar said. ‘You make maps, I reckon.’

Wirrin smiled and let herself be pulled away from the statue garden. ‘What connection have you spotted, Bilar?’

‘I warn you, it’s spurious at best.’

‘Oh, even better.’

‘I reckon you’ve made topographical maps of the mountains before, haven’t you?’ Bilar smiled. ‘I’m sure they’re detailed and accurate. I’m sure you put painstaking effort into making them useful.’

Wirrin shrugged. ‘Depends on the map.’

‘What’s the point of a map, Wirrin?’

‘To represent a place. And before you ask, I do know what the most accurate possible map is.’

‘Exactly. How about all this Church art, then? What’s the point of it?’

Wirrin shrugged again. ‘To remind us that they’re there, I assume.’

Bilar laughed. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen art even in Ettovica.’

‘As have I.’

‘So what’s the point of art? Just to remind us that people were there?’

Wirrin thought about it as Bilar pulled her along. ‘I think it might be, actually. Leave some pretty mark on the world.’

‘Absolutely a lost cause,’ Bilar said. ‘Alright, just wait here.’

They’d come to a stop at a mansion toward the northern edge of the inner city. It wasn’t quite the very edge, but it was the house a new family, not any remains from before the Gods’ War.

Bilar let go of Wirrin’s hand and climbed three wide steps up to the front door, where she rang a bell. She pulled the map out of her pocket and smoothed it flat as the two of them waited for the door to be opened.

When the door was opened, it was by a middle-aged man in a smart, dark suit and an expression somewhere between weariness and annoyance. He looked at Bilar for a couple of seconds before it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything.

‘Bilar,’ Bilar said. ‘For master Heran.’ She offered the map to the man.

He nodded once, took the map, handed over two coins, and closed the door.

Bilar sighed her way back down the stairs and took Wirrin’s hand again, leaning close to mutter. ‘I hate that guy.’

Wirrin snorted. ‘Looked mutual.’

‘Worth the trouble, though, them stupid rich people,’ Bilar said, holding up two golden flowers, not nearly as freshly pressed as the ones remaining in Wirrin’s purse.

‘Maybe you can buy a poor adventurer some lunch,’ Wirrin smiled. ‘If you’re so rich.’

‘Your purse is still bigger than mine.’

‘It’s not always about size.’

Bilar chuckled as she led the way away from the mansion. ‘I’ll tell you what,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll pick the place and you pay.’

‘A good deal if I’ve ever heard one,’ Wirrin said. ‘As long as it’s the sort of thing you’d normally eat. This is about company, after all.’

‘How could I forget?’

Bilar led the way east, back past the university and library, and back out of the inner city. Wirrin hadn’t been in this area of Esbolva for a long while, but the student quarter looked exactly as she remembered it.

The university, like the library, was technically open to anyone. There was a cost to attend, though. So the less wealthy students lived, ate and often worked in a section of the city that had, over time, essentially become reserved for them.

Bilar still picked one of the more expensive places to eat within the student quarter, but all that meant was that the drinks were an extra silver.

‘You’ll eat me out of house and home,’ Wirrin joked as she paid. ‘So far I’ve spent the same on treating you to the luxuries of the city as I paid for all the food I needed to get here from Tellan.’

Bilar grinned. ‘As if you’ve got a house or home, adventurer.’

‘Balovt lin tellanen,’ Wirrin grinned back.

‘Tetal hir tetal,’ Bilar smirked.

Wirrin leaned over the counter. ‘Young man, do you have any beds in the immediate vicinity? I need to ravish someone.’

Bilar snorted, the young man in question stuttered about how there weren’t any beds here but there was an inn just up the street if they wanted.

Wirrin dragged Bilar over to a table. They’d spent a while drinking tea so that Bilar could tell Wirrin the history of Toravan, so lunch was a bit late and the covered eatery was fairly empty.

‘San atic Sovtanen?’ Wirrin asked.

‘Sin toticra toc oullanen.’ Bilar shrugged.

‘Still better than nothing,’ Wirrin said, switching back. ‘Seems like I bother learning all these languages and no one bothers to learn mine.’

Bilar smiled. ‘You want me to tell you why that is?’

‘Is it because Sovtanen was only spoken up to Bitalen except for maybe fifteen years before the Gods’ War nearly wiped out all the speakers of it?’

Bilar frowned dramatically. ‘And you said you weren’t an academic.’

After lunch, they walked the short way to Bilar’s apartment.