Page 63 of Swordheart
“Errr…” Halla wasn’t sure how to explain. Gnoles were small, badger-like creatures that favored brightly colored clothing and did odd jobs in cities. They had shown up in Anuket City and environs about fifteen years ago, and hardly anyone noticed them anymore. There was even a small burrow of them in Rutger’s Howe. Humans treated them with a sort of good-natured contempt, and the gnoles returned the favor. “Well, they look like that… they’re nice enough. I mean, they’re usually very polite. They show up and do work and keep things clean.”
“Are they dangerous?”
This was a complicated question. Halla had to think about it. “Are humans dangerous?”
“Very.”
“Then probably, yes. But I’ve never heard of a gnole attacking anybody. Or, I mean, I’ve heard of it, but usually from really drunk people who were probably attacked by their own feet, if you know what I mean, and tried to pin it on a gnole. They don’t bother anybody and they leave the world cleaner than it was, so most people don’t have a problem with them.”
Sarkis looked unconvinced. “We do not have them in the Weeping Lands.”
Halla privately thought they didn’t have a lot of things in the Weeping Lands, but it didn’t seem diplomatic to say so. “They migrated in years ago. We didn’t see them in the outlying towns much, but they were already in Archenhold by the time I moved here.” She considered for a bit. “Errr… have you not met nonhuman people before?”
“A few. The Thinnang—the rabbit folk—have a dwelling inthe Weeping Lands. And one encounters a minotaur from time to time near the sea, of course.” He shrugged. “There are always stories of shapechangers and forest-folk, but I don’t know how many are true.”
“There’s rune in the Vagrant Hills,” said Halla. “At least there’s supposed to be. I’ve never seen one. Mostly, though, there’s gnoles.”
The gnole in question was long gone. The crowd had begun to grow thicker as they approached Archon’s Glory.
“A defensible city,” said Sarkis, eyeing Archon’s Glory with approval. “At least the core. The rest would be burned during a siege, of course.”
“Well, Archenhold’s right on Anuket’s doorstep,” said Halla, shrugging. “They have to maintain their independence or they’d get swallowed up. So they keep the city walls maintained and their standing army is no joke. Young men from Rutger’s Howe would go join up if they wanted to impress young women.”
“Did it?”
“Did it what?”
“Impress the young women.”
“I’m not sure. It didn’t impressme,anyway, when I was young.”
Sarkis actually laughed. Halla had grown to appreciate his laughter all the more for its rarity. “Wise girl. In the steading, they said the foolish girls sighed after warriors, but the smart ones married the farmers.”
“The steading?”
“Where I grew up.”
“In the Weeping Lands?”
“Yes.”
“What was it like?”
He appeared to consider this at some length, as they approached the outer city of Archon’s Glory. Brightly colored banners hung over the streets, flapping in the wind. The houses were no morethan two stories high, which gave the outer city an oddly truncated appearance.
“It was… empty,” he said finally.
Halla looked at him, puzzled. “What was?”
“The steading.”
“Oh! Err… why was it empty?”
“All of the Weeping Lands is empty. The wind howls over the grass and you think you can see for a thousand miles. But you can’t. There are folds and hills and clefts in the earth. It is rotten with holes and old places.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Very much.”
