Free The Fall of Ventaris by Neil McGarry, Daniel Ravipinto, Amy Houser Page B

through the heddles. “But since the cloth I make with this is not large, I can make only enough for small things like belts and bags,” Jana had explained, demonstrating.
    The other type of loom was called a Domae word that Duchess could not even begin to pronounce, but in Rodaas was known by the outrageous name of a warp-weighted loom , a more elaborate device of thick upright beams, narrower horizontal sticks and a device that resembled a rolling pin. “The warp-beam,” Jana explained when Duchess pointed that out. This device, too heavy to easily carry, was set at a slant against a wall, with the threads hanging down from the top, near the not-rolling pin. The fabric was woven from the top down, and the weaver could move around the device as necessary. “With this, I can make enough cloth for shirts or trousers, cloaks and dresses.”
    And things only got more complicated from there. Weaving, Jana explained, consisted of three basic steps: shedding, picking and battening. This was true regardless of the type of loom one used, and of course each process looked different depending on the loom. Then there were motions to let off and to take up, as well as various stops, like warp stop and weft stop. The tools had strange names like pirn and shuttle and picking stick and seemed far less comfortable to her hand than the rolling pins and wooden spoons she’d used in Noam’s bakery. Jana, naturally, handled these devices as if she were born with them.
    Finally, Duchess threw up her hands. “It would be easier just to learn magic and conjure up the stuff!” She gestured to the piles of cloth Jana had produced.
    The Domae flashed a rare grin. “This is easy. Soon I will show you how to felt.” Duchess groaned.
    They’d been at it most of the afternoon, so when Jana proposed to make tea Duchess eagerly took her up on it. She was amazed by the way Jana explained the complexities of weaving so easily in a language not her own, and said as much. “It is not something most of my camp learned,” she explained, pouring steaming brown liquid into cups. “My aunt insisted that I be fluent, and she is not a woman who understands no .”
    Duchess grinned and took up her cup; the contents smelled divine. “I’ve known a few women like that myself,” she said, thinking of Minette. She sipped and tasted mint and perhaps also orange. “Did your aunt raise you?”
    Jana nodded, taking a seat on the other side of the low table. “My mother died when I was very young, from a fever.” She gave Duchess an appraising look. “Something I have said has made you sad.”
    Duchess tried to pass it off — she’d never even discussed this with Lysander — but something about Jana’s manner made such conversation almost natural. “My mother died, too, in childbirth. I never knew her.” Her father rarely spoke of it, and she had followed suit.
    Jana nodded again, sympathy clear in her liquid brown eyes. “I was only three years old then, so I do not remember her well. My aunt Adelpha took over and saw to me.” She sipped neatly from her cup. “Did you have an aunt to raise you?”
    Duchess hesitated. Although she’d already revealed her real name and history to Lysander, Noam’s training was hard to gainsay. Still, she found herself strangely unwilling to lie to her new business partner. Finally, she said, “My father didn’t have any sisters, so he raised me himself. Me and my brother and sister.” She felt suddenly shaky, and took another sip of tea. “I haven’t seen them in a long time...oh, eight years or more.”
    “They did not grow up in a baker’s house, like you.” It was not a question.
    She shook her head. “There was a fire when I was just a girl, and my father died when my house burned. Then Noam the baker took me in, but my brother and sister vanished.” There was more to that story, but she didn’t want to go into the who and where and why as she had with Lysander. It was still hard to speak of