Their destination is almost in sight

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Disclaimer:

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2018 - 2020 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2020 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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“Good morrow, all.”

A chorus of greetings erupted from those of us already seated around the table as a once more grinning Surtree came to join us with Vakter. I looked a little more closely at the two of them and they seemed a tad dishevelled somehow. Was that a straw sticking to Surtree’s collar? I jerked my chin at him and asked with my eyes what was there. His hand shot up, felt around a little, and removed the offending article. Every eye except Vakter’s was looking at him so he knew he had to answer the question we all had.

“Vakter and I have just spent a bell Tai Chiing and doing some of the tumbling exercises on a straw-strewn floor of an unoccupied stall in the stables. We had an audience of two stable lads who determined that we were mad, it seems. But we have worked up a healthy appetite, I can tell you.”

They both then proceeded rapidly to prove his point. A young male’s capacity for food is a thing of wonder.

But Surtree’s remarks caused me some small discomfort. I felt guilty at not having Tai Chied properly since we left, but ’twas guilt for but a fleeting moment.

Then came an interruption.

A man approached our table, his head cocked slightly to one side and with a very penetrative and yet enquiring glint in his eye. I kicked Pyor’s shin under the table and eye-spoke with him when he looked at me. Pyor turned and then surged to his feet.

“Master Baran?” he enquired.

“Indeed so. And you, I presume, are Master Pyor?”

The next three weeks (or so it seemed) were taken up with all the introductions and explanations as to why each of the eleven in our party were present. The only unusual thing was when Surtree was introduced as Pyor’s apprentice, an introduction that made him sit a little straighter and push his chest out a bit.

We rearranged our seating so that the three railroad men could be next to each other, which was a good thing as they used up several sheets of paper and about a week’s supply of reedlets drawing diagrams as they chatted on and on about some arcane and weird stuff to the ears of the rest of us. I was SO proud of Surtree as he made several apparently good and pertinent observations and suggestions.

The rest of us weren’t really listening that much as we chatted amongst ourselves but we were aware of their conversation too.

(Older Julina: Many weeks and months later, though, I found I could talk quite knowledgeably about the details of the railroads with some of the land’s leading experts, so my brain must have absorbed far more than I realised at the time)

We did all, however, devote our full attention when they started talking about the route through the local Gorge. Pyor had after all drawn us a diagram of it last night, which he had now produced and which started this new thread of a conversation.

“That indeed, Master Pyor, is how we originally planned it. You have been well informed. And indeed it is still possible that eventually that shall be as it is.

“However, we have struck difficulties with that plan and may well have to change things around a bit. Down the west side of the Gorge, there is a rocky outcropping which blocks the route. There is a thin and dangerously narrow animal track, down which a brave man could ride a frayen, but I doubt I myself am brave enough to do that. That narrow track winds round the face, with a long fall down to the Gorge’s bed. The twists and turns are far too sharp for a railroad track to be laid there.

“There are, we deem, three ways we can overcome this problem. Go around the problem by building some form of gallery viaduct that overhangs the Gorge, by tunnelling through the hillside, or by climbing much further up until we get above the shoulder level of the walls. All of these shall take an inordinate amount of time to achieve, and the climbing up variation, which naturally includes climbing down again at some point, is really a non-starter.

“Or ...”

He laid such emphasis on that little word, and he looked around at all of us individually when he said it and followed it with a longish pause.

“… We can take a lesson from the Trade Routes themselves. We run just one track down the side of the Gorge, down the eastern side. That would mean that we would require a bridge at this end of the Gorge, to allow the west bank tracks to cross over to join the east bank route. And then we would need to build a further bridge – more a long viaduct actually when we get down to the town itself at the far end of the Gorge.”

“Ah!” said Mompik at that point. “we were wondering, Master Baran, about the lack of signs for a town around here as we came in last evening.”

“I fully understand that, File Leader. We who live here in these houses – in what is officially named North Haligo, but which we call the ‘Threshold’ - do so because of the afternoon and evening sun. There are just fourteen houses here and a guardhouse. There exists a local term for us residents up here. I am indeed one of those we call a ‘Dweller on the Threshold’.

“Down in the town itself, there are some unfortunates who reside near the outpouring of the Gorge who never actually get direct sunlight on their dwellings.”

“How so is that, Master?” asked Gyth. For which I deem all of us silently thanked her.

“Mistress, the Gorge itself is narrow and twisty, the twists and turns going both ways, of course. The sun naturally shines from the North and the Town is situated at the south of the Gorge, as the valley walls once again spread out. Most of the houses and shops of the town are placed a short distance, maybe as much as half a mark from the mouth of the Gorge, in an attempt to get some of that precious sunlight.

“When you leave here to go to Teldor you will emerge from the Gorge into the widened area there; the cliffs to the west being just slightly lower than those to the east, so therefore the houses on the east side of the valley do manage to get some afternoon and evening sun. So the town has spread more to the east. Also the banks of the river force more to the east. There is just space for some of the waterborne craft repair businesses on the banks to the west of the Gorge mouth. But the Trade Route must squeeze through there so space is very limited at that point.

“So, to the East of the Gorge mouth is where the town is now established, and where the Count Thermin has caused to have built his new abode, cleverly constructed on a raised base to bring it up in height slightly more towards the sun’s rays.”

“What happened to his old one then?” Waxerwet asked, quite forcefully.

“We have used it to our railroad track laying advantage,” laughed Baran. “This Gorge used to be, at one time, the northernmost limit of the area known nowadays as Palarand, so a fort cum castle was constructed at the northern end to guard against invaders from wherever (who incidentally, have NEVER appeared, neither then nor since). So tradition kept the Counts in that castle up there.

“We have now partially demolished it for the railroad rails to be laid along there and it is a wonderful place for us to gather; to store the tools we need for all that construction work. And to have stabling and a place to cook a warm drink or meal and so on. ’Tis reported that the Countess Florizel and her children all danced for joy when they moved out of the old place, which was, they claimed apparently, cold, damp and draughty with insufficient ventilation to draw away all the smokes from the many fires they required to be lit.”

Ah! That must have been the destroyed building we saw last evening, where the men were all gathered, with the beasts and tools and so on.

“Anyway, back to the town itself and the required bridge or long viaduct for our rails.

“Where the rails shall emerge from the Gorge is at a point still quite high above the town. From there, we can see that the curves of the rails shall be easy to achieve so that the tracks can be laid down the east bank. Leading eventually, I am given to understand, the hundreds of marks to Brankane, the capital of Vardenale. And of course to the only deep-water port on the mouth of the Sirrel at Viridor.

“’Tis coming the other way, to run rail tracks down the WEST bank, that the difficulties lie. The cliff face there is nigh-on sheer with just a few grasses and shrubs clinging on and there is barely room for the Trade Route down to Teldor and onto Dekarran. We deem we might, just, be able to lay a single track railroad bed along there by building a bridge/viaduct from the rails as they descend above the eastern town back across the Gorge mouth and then descend gently down to the Trade Route level once the first bend on it has been negotiated. All that means a great series of arches are to be built all across from the eastern side to just downvalley from the barge repair docks. The Trade Route itself will have to complete its journey into Haligo there by using the underside of the railroad arches as a roof over the road.

“At least, that is the plan as it currently stands. Knowing the way these things have been going, then that plan shall in all probability be changed yet again, but I doubt ’twill happen too often afore the rains this year.”

Pyor laughed: “Hah! Don’t count on it. There are still a few weeks before the rains, so maybe we will be lucky and only have a hand or two of changes before then!”

We all laughed too at that, so much so that many of our fellow guests frowned as they looked round at us.

One of the older ones called out: “Don’t be so sure, young fellow-me-lad! We seed quite a few grakhs flying over recent-like. I would wager the rains’ll be early this year.”

“Don’t listen to the old codger,” called out one of his more youthful breakfasting companions. “’Tis but an old farmer’s tale!”

“I tell ’ee, young whatsyername, rains aren’t far off.”

“Now, now, Granddad. No need to get all riled up.” Their voices dropped again and we could hear no more distinct words of their still animated argument.

Surtree then said: “Excuse me Master Baran, but that seems to be a lot of construction that shall happen rather than just the simple bridge as shown in Master Pyor’s diagram here. Would it not be possible to have a copy of this made maybe further down the Gorge, after your inconvenient outcropping?”

“Good question, lad. Good question indeed. But ’tis that west wall from the mouth of the Gorge that is also a great problem. I’m afraid you shall have to trust me on that one, for today we must ride upvalley to Holville. And I will have no chance to show you what I mean.

“However, there are advantages to having a long and arched viaduct there. We are crying out for more storage space here in town and all the roominess there shall be underneath the arches shall be a boon for those who need such space.”

And so they went on, whilst the rest of us, with the exception of Steef, started to anticipate our route for the day.

We eventually stood up so we could do our final preparations before starting out on our journeyings once more. Which action provoked the railroading trio to cease their animated discussions too.

… … ...

At last, our final meal with us all together was finished and we gathered in the courtyard to say our goodbyes to those leaving us.

I confess there were tears in my eyes as I hugged Surtree. There were definitely tears flowing as Davvy hugged him. I handed a letter to Pyor, with a copy to Surtree, that was signed by me and witnessed by Waxerwet and Davvy, and which stated clearly the changes in Surtree’s status. Pyor would talk to Master Schild about it as soon as they returned.

The three of them swung up onto their beasts, Master Baran calling out in surprise when he saw that the others were mounted with the so-called ‘new’ saddles. He was till using an old-style one.

However, he still managed to ooze a degree of leadership: “Come Pyor and Surtree, let us away to inspect briefly those started towers they mentioned before we head once more in the upvalley direction. We shall return northwards along the other side of the valley to the one you used to descend. You shall see how they are doing their tasks there. The developments at Holville look to be differently organised, I deem.”

The three figures, each trailing a pack frayen behind them, waved to us all, passed out of the gateway and were lost to sight immediately.

The parting with Steef was not quite so emotional, although I did have a small lump in my throat. Steef had mounted his pack animal today, letting his sore-footed riding beast have the lighter load for a change. He too waved to us as he turned the other way out of the inn’s gateway.

I went back into the inn to pay the reckoning, with Mompik to escort me lest any light-fingered miscreants were about. That done, the men then got all twelve beasts ready whilst we women swiftly used the facilities before departing.

We turned right out of the inn’s gateway and our third day of journeying started out.

… … …

Had we wanted to be in a hurry, it would not have mattered.

’Twas surely impossible to go anywhere above a walking pace, so crowded was it. The valley walls seemed to squeeze inwards, the constant sound of the rushing water beneath the seeming myriad of bridges, the darkness (for the sun could only penetrate at a certain, specific, short period of the day), the clamour all made me very glad I did not actually live there.

But I learned a great deal as various thoughts and memories zoomed through my head. Captain Bleskin had once told us about how difficult it would be for an invading force to come upvalley. A hand of moments here in this tight-pressing gorge made me understand exactly what he meant. We had the greatest difficulty picking a path through the people, animals, carts and wagons that seemed to occupy the entire gorge floor.

I doubt any of us were surprised to find an inn at the other end of the gorge called the ‘Southern Gate’. What was surprising to us geographically down there was the rapidity of the way the valley walls opened right up again.

Of course, once we emerged from the gloom, which had been most oppressive both visually and orally, we had to find our way to the semaphore station. Which meant turning away from the way we wanted to go.

I sent my messages off and we continued on our way, retracing our path across the upper town until we regained the Trade Route. I was quite surprised at the amount of business I saw being done by the wenders they had operating here. And the bacs.

And, of course, I was very pleased to see most of the wenders and bacs were decked out in Master Tanon’s colours. I idly wondered if I would actually recoup the accounting for all of us from the inn last night from the amount of journeyings I saw going on down here right now.

And the rapidity of the river’s flow was colossal until it spilt over the final ledge and created a wide river once again. Two marks or so farther down, no observer would believe the foaming torrent was so closely situated behind us – down there the river was almost calm.

Where the raging torrent tumbled at long last into a peaceful basin, a small ‘extra’ town had sprung up, a little town to feed the many wharves and warehouses situated there. I looked around this part eagerly, for I wanted to get a feel for the facilities that are provided to those who work with the barges.

Also down there, quite close to the eruption of the torrent, an obviously new and very large building was still being worked upon, despite it being occupied already. Our enquiries elicited the information that this was the new castle belonging to Count Thermin and his family. In fact, we could just make out the men-at-arms exercising in the courtyard there. The surprising answer, remember, as to why they needed a new castle, was that their old one, on the northern approaches had been demolished to make way for the railroad!

We all breathed a sigh of relief as we regained the Trade Road with a much wider valley around us. It felt somehow that some invisible bonds about us had been cut and dropped away.

Just next to the road as it came out of Haligo and turned sharp left as dictated by the valley wall, there was a large barge repair area, in which there was one being busily worked upon. ’Twas sturdy-looking but yet somehow to a lesser degree, it seemed a bit battered. Many workers were swarming over it, scrubbing, sawing, planing, painting. Obviously, the vessel was under new ownership, for a worker was just painting out the old name prior to adding the new one. This vessel was looking like our frayen, a little tired, a little worn in places, as though it had had a hard life so far.

“Something seems to suggest that this barge has been abandoned for a little while?” I asked generally of my companions.

“Aye, I deem you are right,” said Mompik slowly as he studied the vessel closely.

“I also deem you are right Julina. There are signs to my eyes of neglect on what had been before a well-maintained barge.” Gyth agreed with Mompik and I.

“Hmmm. I wonder what the new name shall be?” I had seen the old name as it disappeared from sight under a generous application of white paint. The ‘Gray Skwod’ it had been called. I idly wondered to myself if anyone had ever told me what exactly a skwod is or was. All I actually knew about them, I realised with a great start, was that there was a ‘Nest’ of them up in Tranidor, which was now a part of Meglina. I was about to comment on that when another observation side-tracked the conversation.

“But look at the differences in the barges down here on this side of Haligo!” said Gyth. “Steef did warn us, but seeing the actuality is far more demonstrative somehow.”

“Yes! It is, is it not?”

And then we got into discussing barges in some depth. (And yes, you may smile at that!)

It was a busy river here, bearing all sorts of sailed and rowed craft as well as a busy towpath that was full of dranakh pulling barges up and downstream.

“That question of Surtree’s last night, that was a really intelligent one wasn’t it?” asked Davvy to many agreeing nods.

I think that had been possibly the most surprising of all Steef’s revelations.

Surtree had asked how barges passed each other if they all needed towing along a towpath.

“Do they hold one of the ropes up on high on poles or something, so that the other can pass beneath it?”

“Something similar in fact, but a lot neater. And it works whether the two barges concerned are going in the same direction or in the opposite direction. Alright, sometimes, yes, it is necessary to pole the ropes upwards. But can you remember when we watched that little drama on the river earlier, that the second line, the one they used ‘just in case’, had little things that looked akin to circles dotted every so often along it?”

We cast our minds back and realised that we had in fact seen that, but not really registered it.

“Those circles on the rope, they are actually weights woven in. They are there to make the rope sink if necessary. One of the two barges that are involved in a passing simply lets their rope sink below the water. The other barge is then unhindered.”

We had all been impressed once again with the simplicity of it all.

… … …

Before too long at all had passed, we were settling down to what had become normal travel for us. We were out in the countryside, no town around us. The well-maintained Trade Route stretched ahead of us. Roadhouses appeared every half mark or so. All this was so very familiar to us.

Except for one thing.

This part of the Trade Route was the busiest road I had ever seen.

A constant stream of traffic somehow kept moving along it in both directions. There were wagons, carts, carriages, dranakh, frayen and walkers. I doubted that we would have been able, in all actuality, to ever have pushed the pace to that which I had originally planned.

One of these roadhouses seemed to be bigger, better appointed and busier than the others we had passed. We passed this one too, for ’twas as yet not time for a break.

Waxerwet demanded of a fellow traveller on the road: “Excuse me, Master? That roadhouse we have just passed – why is it so different?”

“Ah! Mistress, ’tis a most famous one. Many folk say that one of the cheeses available there is the best in the land. ’Tis named Silton after the name of that roadhouse.”

I gasped at that and wished now we had stopped to see where the Brayview Administrator Kolston’s famous cheese was mostly sold. It was, we knew, actually made in South Tranidor but was shipped all the way down here whence it had gained a reputation. And whence it had gained a name.

The river in this stretch of the valley twisted and turned, sometimes nearer the road, sometimes farther away. The road itself was not straight, kinking first left, then right, then left again and then right again, the stretches between the kinks getting progressively longer it seemed. We covered some few marks in this way. A final kink to the left opened up a long straight road in front of us, the first long straight stretch we had seen since we were approaching Tranidor. It almost made me feel at home again.

“Our beasts seem a lot happier today,” remarked Davvy. “Even the Rangers’ ones.”

“They realise that we are not forcing the pace today as we have done for the past two days,” replied Kabarad. “Although they are still not as sprightly as they were last week up in Blackstone.”

“We have pushed them hard, as we all know. I just hope that we have not done any permanent damage,” Rakshak voiced my own worry. And probably the same worry everyone else had.

“The inn’s beastsman seemed to think they would recover, with longer rest and good fodder. And plenty of water,” added Mompik.

“Let me see now,” I mused aloud, recalling a list of distances I had once seen. “From Teldor to Dekarran is less than from Blackstone to Bezlet, and yet more than from Blackstone to the Forest Roadhouse. About the same as Blackstone to the Retreat, I would say.

“And from Haligo to Teldor, which we are currently doing, is just a little farther than getting to Bezlet from home. We have a ferry to cross to get out of Teldor, so I propose we stay in Teldor tonight. The ferry wait and crossing will be extra rest for the animals for they shall not require to carry us so we should arrive in Teldor in good time to find an inn and get settled in, with an allowance then to explore the town a little before our dinner.

“The other option is to push on through Teldor tonight and find a roadhouse towards Dekarran. That would be a little like riding from Blackstone to Brayview, I would estimate.”

“What plans have you for the morning, Julina?”

“Ah, Mompik, a good question. If we stay in Teldor, then ’twould have to be that we are up at first light, to give me maximum time with Senidet before the Royal Party depart the following morning. If we stay in a roadhouse nearer to Dekarran, then we could leave a little later, I suppose.”

“May I therefore suggest that we see how weary our animals are when we get to Teldor? I confess I would favour staying in the town tonight, but understand, and indeed approve, if you wish to carry on.”

“Indeed, Julina, I feel that would be the best,” said ‘mother’ Waxerwet. The others all agreed.

“So we shall stay in the town tonight, then.”

… … ...

The river had turned more than the road had at that last kink I mentioned, so we found ourselves getting more and more distant from it. And, although there were some farms along here, the river bank was getting ever more crowded with industrial sites.

Arising from which was ever more smoke and steam. And noise.

And down there amongst it all was a sight that Pyor and Surtree should have seen. There was a long stretch of double sets of railroad tracks, several marks long, I estimated. There were laden wagons on the rails, being pulled by dranakh. ’Twas exactly as Pyor had once described to me the way he felt it should be developed up by our homes. Have such a double set of rails along the Loop Road round to just below the Bunkhouse.

Every so often the twin sets of rails came together, connected with a set of those Pyor Points. Then came a short stretch of straight single rails followed by another set of the Pyor Points which allowed the rails to continue once more as a double set. Somehow, ’twas obvious to us observers that the rails here were made of wood.

At one point, we saw one of those hand-pump-wagons that someone had told us about yesterday – ah, yes! It had been that worker just outside South Tranidor, the one who could talk the hind leg off a pakh. The little wagon was flying along along in a most alarming fashion. The two men operating it were bending and straightening, bending and straightening, bending and straightening. How very strenuous, it all seemed to me. And yet, I doubt I had ever espied a vehicle travelling at such a speed.

Suddenly I saw why they were trying so very hard.

There was a line painted across the rails and a huge crowd were gathered near there. This was obviously a race along that set of rails, for as the wagon flashed past the line, the operators clearly eased off; some of the crowd looked on happily at some of the more downcast ones, hands held out. I realised further that there had been a number of wagers concluded. A considerable number, it must be said.

We watched in fascination as factory and busy workplace after factory and busy workplace passed by our eyes. There were also new wharves that seemed to be nearly as busy as the road we were on. There were newly made side lanes from the Trade Route down to the industrial strip along the side of the river, all of them in use in one way or another as we went by.

… … ...

The comparative luxury of the roadhouse we eventually stopped in to take refreshment made me regret my previous choice of using the west bank road from Tranidor to Haligo.

So much so that I found it most necessary to say: “I must apologise to you all for the choice of route we took yesterday. It appears from our current surroundings that ’twas a poor choice of mine.”

“Julina, you were not to know. We have survived, we have further experiences to add to our lives, ’twas not so bad as you fear.”

“Thank you for being kind enough to try to ease my guilt.”

“Come Julina,” said Mompik, quite surprisingly a little testily. “When we were preparing for this trip, I had the wrong impression of the situation. Subsequently, I gained the wrong impression of yourself and your colleagues. My eyes have been opened as to what you do, what you have achieved and with whom you surround yourself.

“Waxerwet there is a sensible, intelligent, good-natured, jolly and at the same time stern over-watcher of you three younger ones. She has brilliantly helped and guided when any of you have required it. And her delight at seeing such new things is also a delight to observe.

“Her daughter here is a highly intelligent woman with her own strongly held views. She has a similar delight to her mother at the revelations she has encountered. And she has weighed all that you have done and is quite prepared to jump in if required. That she has found no requirement so to do is one of the greatest compliments I can bestow.

“Young Davvy here is a treasure beyond price. She helps you, listens to you, supports you and smooths things as far as she can to make your life as easy as she can. And she herself has many good ideas that have made all our lives easier on this trip.

“I have learnt why your mission is as it is. I believe that from what I have learnt on this trip that ’twould be a great loss to Blackstone, and yet I deem that your employment down here would be of an equal or greater benefit to our entire land. I will do anything within my power to help you reach a decision and will back that decision to the fullest extent of my powers.”

“And that goes for us too,” said Vakter, indicating the other two with his hand.

I had to leap to my feet and find my way awkwardly to the women’s facilities. It was awkward because my eyes were filled with unshed tears. Unshed because I refused, simply refused, to cry in front of them. Davvy’s one useful hand nestled under my elbow to make it easier. Then Gyth’s hand slid under my other one.

And I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

… … …

“Good afternoon, Mistress Julina! We have everything ready for you.”

She laughed as I looked confusedly at Waxerwet and then at Mompik.

“We had two men on frayen arrive a bell or so ago, telling us you and your party were coming. They said that arranging all this was to be a surprise for you.”

My head was swivelling between Waxerwet and Mompik still. ’Twas the latter who answered: “We arranged this with the two men when you dashed off with the girls where we stopped earlier. We had been enquiring about good places to stay. Several recommended here, and the two men said that they would get here before us and so would warn the people here.”

I had to grin at that, ruefully it must be admitted. If my weakness had not arisen, then this pleasant surprise could never have happened.

We were in the ‘Fishermen’s Rest’ in the centre of Teldor. They explained to me that: “... the name is a joke, for, when fishermen retire, they mostly want to get as far as possible from the water they have been on for all their lives. This inn was built on the one spot in Teldor that is farthest away as it is possible to be from either of the rivers.”

I confess I had to smile when I heard that, as did the other three women with us. The soldiers were just a bit too busy being military and efficient to be able to crack a smile.

But one of the preparations they had made involved a bathhouse, deep warm water and sweet smelling soaps. We were very soon luxuriating in there.

We emerged, went to our rooms and changed into something decent to be seen in whilst supping in the dining room.

To our great amusement, we eight were obviously the subject of much speculation amongst the other diners in the inn that night. Just to confuse them, we sometimes stood and changed places, breaking up the ‘couples’ the others thought they had identified. The Rangers were not in uniform that night, wanting to have their uniforms washed and pressed in order to make a good impression when arriving at Dekarran Castle in the morning.

Knowing that this was the last night of our ‘Downvalley Dash’ made for a strange mixture of weariness, relief and yet not a little sorrow that the adventure was coming to an end. Our journey next week back up the valley would not be imbued with quite such urgency. I idly wondered when exactly it would be that we would depart. The beasts needed a good rest. But then again, my purse was not bottomless. The longer we stayed in the Inn, the more ’twould cost me.

It would depend, I guessed, upon the urgency of the Duke’s replies to the missives we were bringing. I hoped Mompik would remember to tell His Grace (as I remembered Countess Merizel had told me he should be addressed) about our animals’ weariness.

The meal was very good, just a few little things I would have done differently, and we parted to our rooms at a sensible hour, that little bit steadier on our feet than we had been the night before.

… … …

There were some of the diners from the previous evening present when we took our breakfasts in the morning, and they all gasped with surprise when the smart Rangers appeared, fully formally dressed and armed. More whispered speculation was flying about amongst them as we ate, so we adopted our most formal attitudes in word and in body language, just to mess about with them slightly. We lingered not over our meal, somehow wanting to get going, to get the journey finished and done with.

We ate, we women prepared ourselves with a last-minute visit to the facilities, I paid the accounting and we went out to the courtyard where the stable boys had prepared our mounts. Again there was a lot of surprise from the gathering crowd of onlookers, particularly when we women swung up to straddle our beasts. Mompik was suppressing a grin as he issued his orders, orders which surprised us as well as the onlookers.

“Guards! Vakter in the van, I shall bring up the rear. You other two take each side, so we surround the prisoners. Dekarran party, head out.”

We rode out with our heads held proudly high. We even managed to turn onto the street outside with a precision that would have made any military group proud.

We got about two casts down the road before we all burst out laughing. Davvy had to stop for she couldn’t hold her ribs with her one good arm whilst still guiding her animal with the reins. We all stopped too, of course, and we looked back to the Inn’s gateway where a forest of heads were peering out at us. Oh deary me! That just renewed our laughter. I was grateful we had used the facilities only just before.

By and by, we progressed through the town, stopping only for me to send my usual semaphores up to Tranidor (Epp) and Blackstone (Em) and down to the Countess in Dekarran, whom I had also been keeping aware of our progress. I asked her if she could be so kind as to arrange accommodation for us at the Inn the others had used. I reflected briefly on the fact that I could not receive any replies to my messages since we had so far never known exactly where we would be for any of the nights, so we would go to that Inn in the hope that a reservation had been able to be made.

So I did sort of know where we would be that night – in the Inn where the Captain and the Wedding Party had stayed when they descended the valley to attend Their Highnesses’ nuptials. It was named the ‘White Safkh’. I was curious to learn what that inn was like, something I was looking forward to being able to share with others who had had experience of it.

We rode down to the ferry which would carry us across the mouth of the Telar, and from the south side of which the Trade Road went as straight as an arrow all the 30 odd marks to Dekarran. It was a minor curiosity to me that the ferry slip here was on the south side of Teldor and yet was named North Slip. We found the place where I would pay for our passage, then stood beside our mounts, conserving their strengths, as we watched the ferry battle the currents as it crossed towards us from their South Slip.

We were given what I felt was undue deferment by the others waiting with us to cross, but that meant we would be first off and on our way with a reasonably clear road ahead of us. This was our first time on a ferry and so we stood there looking all around and gaining as much as anyone could from the experience.

The skills of the ferrymen crewing the vessel that day were very impressive to us first-timers. The boat lined up with the slip and just gently kissed the slope with no noticeable shock. The ramp was lowered, and we were away, drawing some inquisitive glances from those awaiting their turn to cross over to the town.

We noticed a difference in the hills and ridges as we progressed. No – better to say we noticed some overall differences.

The ground sloped up on the right towards a line of forest. There were farms here, too, but they seemed to be larger than the many smaller ones that dotted the space between the road and the river bank. Some of the lower fields of these larger farms had been ploughed for crops but others, where the slope was greater, had animals in them. Above the forest the rock-strewn slopes of the mountainside reared up, making a jagged line that seemed to get jaggeder and jaggeder as we neared our destination.

There are two larger rivers – I wanted to say streams at first but these were larger than streams and yet so much smaller than the Palar itself – that have carved distinct valleys in the major valley wall to the right of this road. We crossed the first and liked the rugged beauty of it as it tumbled down into the so much wider Palar on our left. The plentiful craft down on the Palar itself generally gave ‘our’ side river a wide berth at that confluence although I noticed something I would have to ask Steef about; there was a bridge down there, right across the mouth of the side river. It looked very strongly to me as though it were a towpath. Why would they have a towpath across somewhere other vessels were avoiding?

“Shall we enquire of travellers about your accommodation this evening, Julina? We shall be in the castle barracks I expect, but shall of course escort you first to wherever you might find your beds.”

I realised with a jerk that I had failed to pass on my information. How could I be such a ked? “There is no need, Mompik. Other travellers have been this way before and have recommended that we stay in a place near the docks. Captain Bleskin himself overnighted there when he and a party of Blackstonians came down to attend the Royal Wedding. It is named the ‘White Safkh’. Which animal is apparently some sort of sea monster, by the way.”

“Do you tell me? I wonder if their inn has a sign with a picturing on it. I would fain see a representation of such a monster.”

“I have sent a semaphore down to Countess Merizel asking her to detail someone to go down there and make reservations for us. We shall find out if my arrangements have been successful when we get there, I suppose.”

Just after we had crossed that first side river, the Palar swung gently away from the road. Doing so opened up a much wider space betwixt the two. It was with some sorrow that I saw that much of that space was being given over to the construction of yet more of those ‘factories’ and work places, removing some farms forever from the landscape. Again, down there we saw the burgeoning lengths of railroad roadbeds being constructed. I found myself desperately hoping that all this change, all this … destruction, was going to be worth it.

I think that by that time, we were all ready for the journey to be over, so we were progressing with little conversation amongst us. But that is not to say we were uncomfortable with one another. The companionship was almost growing in the silence, it seemed to me.

We passed on, making a steady progress, passing along at a generally faster pace than almost all the other traffic going our way. And yet so much slower than our first day’s hecticity.

Then a bell or so later, we got to the second of those two side rivers I mentioned.

… … ...

I shall always remember that moment. Every sight, etched into my head in full colour, every sound, every taste, every touch, every noise.

The day was very warm, with a few high clouds scudding across a sky that was the same cerulean shade as the under wing of a brifil. Occasionally there was a large enough cloud to plunge us into a welcome shadow. The Palar was sparkling where the wakes of the many craft upon it were making large ripples on its deeper blue shades. The side river was noisily dashing and tumbling beneath the bridge we were using to cross it, almost completely silvery white from the turbulence. It was joyously shouting its exuberance to anyone who could listen.

’Twas one of those moments when the road was by happenstance clear of anyone else in either direction. I was internally debating whether or not ’twas time for a natural break.

Mompik was bringing up the rear. Kabarad was in the van. Vakter was to the left and Rakshak to the right. I and Waxerwet were the leading pair of women, I on the left. Gyth was behind me, and the pack animal I was leading, while Davvy was next to her and behind Waxerwet.

I can even remember remarking another new-to-me avian sort ahead of us, one with a bright orange body and a yellow head.

There was a hint of salt in the air; water and salt and what I later discovered to be a form of seaweed, although the scent and taste of it were beyond my experience just at that moment.

If I had adequate words, I could even describe the heady scents of the plants, shrubs and bushes that grew in great and joyous profusion just off each side of the road.

The heavy earthy tones of animal droppings tried to mask the more pleasant ones of the plants, for a street scrubbing party had obviously passed this way not long before, leaving most of the droppings in small elongated piles on each side of the streetway, but carefully not in the drainage ditches.

( Older Julina; Even now, sitting here at my desk, I can close my eyes and see it all once again. I believe that there was a small tear near the hem of Waxerwet’s riding skirt, and Davvy was working her withered arm up and down presumably to relieve some of her muscles. I can even sniff it all again.)

“’Ware! Soldiers approaching rapidly!” called Kabarad.

“Blackstone Rangers! Van change bringing me to the front!” called Mompik loudly. “Execute!”

As smoothly as I have ever seen either before or since, the men performed their moves and Mompik was riding ahead. “Close up please ladies, you two in the rear come forward until next to the pack animals. Weapons ready men but sheathed. All of us ride to the left so that we hug the edge there. Vakter, a crossbow at the ready, please.”

The oncoming guardsmen were now close enough to be seen as individuals. Their red and blue halved uniforms proclaimed them to be Duke Gilbanar’s men. They slowed as they neared.

Their leader called: “Mistress Julina? We are from the Castle at Dekarran with messages from Countess Merizel.” He swung his gaze to the man at the front of our group. “File Leader Mompak? I am Quadrant Shar – third Quadrant. I am impressed by your readiness. You may stand your men easy now.”

“With respect, Quadrant. Not until I know you are who you say you are.”

“I admire your fortitude, young man. I deem you have a question for me, one that has a two word answer. One that was selected by a mutual acquaintance. Whom you are also to question me about.”

I could see Mompik begin to relax. “This person, would he be of a military background?”

“Indeed! He transferred from our barracks to gain a long overdue promotion up in Blackstone.”

I should have kept quiet, but the tension in the air forced me to burst out: “Quadrant Ponstib!”

Both the groups’ leaders looked at me in astonishment.

“Indeed, Mistress Julina. That is the name I had in mind. That both of us had in mind.”

Mompik returned to his attempts at ascertaining this Quadrant Shar’s credentials. “In which case, you would know the name of the late night drink he favours.”

I giggled as Quadrant Shar began to answer. I timed my next outburst to harmonise with the second word.

“Whistler’s ...” began Shar.

“… Whetstone,” we both completed at the same time.

Both men were again astonished.

Mompik was first to recover: “How in the name of all that the Maker has done here on Anmar, could you POSSIBLY know the answer to that? You are a constant surprise with the depth of your knowledge, Mistress. You are consistent in your ability to astound me with just how much you know.”

Shar of course didn’t know me that well. His question was loaded with suspicion. “And where is or are the origins of this Whistler’s Whetstone?”

“Dekarran Castle Guards Barrack room,” I answered as insouciantly as possible.

Their mouths just dropped open.

I noticed too that all the others in my party of travellers were looking on in astonishment too. And the three guardsmen that Shar had brought with him. I looked more closely at one of them, some recognition forcing its way into my mind.

“Jarman? Jarran? Jarlin? Something like that anyway. You came up to Blackstone with the Prince and the then Baroness Garia, did you not? But you weren’t a guardsman then, I seem to recall. Maybe a wagon guard? … No … hold … a driver of a wagon?”

“Your memory is excellent, Mistress. ’Tis Jarrin, though.” He turned to Shar. “This is indeed Mistress Julina of Blackstone, Quadrant. I can confirm it as I was asked to. I also recognise the young lady there, her name starts with a ‘G’ I deem.”

“Gythy is my name err…. Driver? Guardsman?”

“Guardsman, Mistress.”

“Well all seems to be in order,” said Mompik. “Stand down men. Back to riding ease. And uncock that bow, please, Vakter.”

“Will you allow your men to take my commands, File Leader Mompak?”

“’ Tis actually Mompik, Quadrant, for the record. But I shall indeed release my men to you, Quadrant. Men, we are now under the Quadrant’s command.”

“That was well done, Mompik. A credit to Quadrant Ponstib’s training. You shall carry back a good review mark, when you return. Now men, some of my men from Dekarran shall take the van while two of you – you and you – shall take the rear. The other one shall take the right flank with Jarrin here. Meanwhile Mompik and I need to question Mistress Julina about the depth and breadth of her knowledge. Take your positions. Execute. Good. Advance.”

My mind was already racing for I knew not if Mompik knew all of Em’s story. Would I have to keep quiet about that?

We headed off at a brisk pace. I was about to say something when Mompik beat me to it: “With respect Quadrant, we must needs slow down a trifle. These animals we are astride on have travelled all the way from Blackstone in only three days. They are on the point of exhaustion.”

“Guards! Three-quarter pace! Execute.” We slowed down some.

But not enough.

Mompik suggested that we should actually adopt a half pace which was soon performed upon Shar’s order. I could see Shar studying each of our beasts to satisfy himself of their state. This man was being extremely cautious.

Then he turned to me and started my interrogation.

“Mistress Julina. Who are you? How know you so much about Dekarran Guards? This mystery I must resolve!”

Now I had two ways I could have continued and I was torn as to which way to go.

My mischievous side won out, and I decided to make him a little more uncomfortable first: “So you accept that I am indeed Mistress Julina?” My tone was aloof, almost arrogant which made Gyth, Davvy, Waxerwet and the Rangers all look at me in surprise, if not shock.

Whether it was a question that I asked in answer to HIS question, or whether it was the question itself, or whether it was my assumed tones, I don’t know; however, a number of surprised looks flitted across his face. I turned away slightly and looked at Mompik, winking at him with the eye most shielded from Shar. HIS face went immediately blank – which told me that he was waiting for how I was going to deal with this.

“Well … yes, I suppose I must. You answered to that name, and File Leader Mompik and his men have travelled with you for days and they all confirm it. Guardsman Jarrin recognises you. So yes, Mistress, I accept you as this Julina person.”

“Then are you not somewhat delinquent in your duties, Quadrant?” I lifted my nose a little higher.

“Huh? What? I don’t follow.”

“I can see that you do indeed find it difficult to follow. What is the purpose of your expedition this morn?”

“Well, we were sent to find you.”

“And?”

“And to … OH! Your pardon, Mistress. Yes, I do have messages for you.” He started floundering a little as I looked at him steadily.

“So which is more important? Your interrogation of me, or your fulfilment of your assigned duties?”

“Ah! Yes, Mistress. I see now what you mean!”

“Now,” I continued, almost breaking across his words, “as you have failed to give me any messages, I can only guess that the orders you were given will be confirmed by these mysterious messages you are holding back – and that they include your accompanying us these fifteen or so marks back to Dekarran.”

“That is true, Mistress.”

“So it is entirely up to you, Quadrant. We have two or more bells for you to complete your interrogation AND to pass on the messages. Which would you prefer to do first?”

I couldn’t keep it up any longer though and started giggling as he tried to make a decision. Which made the poor man a little angry with me.

I held up a hand in apology, which he was gracious enough to accept after I said: “Nay, Quadrant, I am not giggling at YOU, I am doing so at myself. I find I cannot keep up the pretence of being an arrogant and aloof woman. Please be so kind as to ask Mompik here to find that that is just not in my character. I was indulging myself and it was a little bit at your expense, for which I swiftly and humbly apologise.”

I grinned at him, and he started to grin back as my journey’s companions began to laugh. There was a muttered “Got ’im” from one of the guards.

I saw just a little cunning enter his face as he said: “Errrm … the message from Countess Merizel is that she has NOT booked rooms for you down at the ‘White Safkh’.”

I had sufficient clues by then to be able to ask: “But, Quadrant, I deem that that is not the message in its entirety?”

He grinned back. “No Mistress, your party is invited to stay in the Castle this night.” He laughed as the shock hit us.

At the Castle? With all those other Royal Guests? Oh Maker! What shall I, no, we, wear? I looked at the others and saw the delight and then the dismay hit them too.

“Now you understand why I wish to know more of you, Mistress. Why should a … a … a … well, I’m not sure WHAT you are actually, receive such an invitation from the Countess, and backed up by the Count too? Their safety is a prime concern of mine and I would know more of you Mistress. I determined to use the display of knowledge you showed as a way of finding out that more of you.”

“Quadrant,” I said, my mind worrying about presenting ourselves amongst such august company, “I am merely a cook.”

“A cook!?” exclaimed Mompik.

“Yes,” I replied. “That is my primary function. Gyth here, Mistress Gythy that is and I both work in the ‘Salon’ up in Blackstone.”

“How then does the Count and Countess know you?”

“Ah! That is a complex tale, Quadrant, as is the one concerning my knowledge of Dekarran Guards and their practices. Allow me to start by saying I am also a teacher. I teach people their letters and numbers and how to read. The Countess was kind enough to join in with some of my lessons with the younger children. And then the Count and Countess were among the eight guests that enjoyed near a week at Princess Garia’s ‘Retreat’ up there, and I was lucky enough to be selected to do the catering for them during that time.”

“Mompik,” demanded Shar, “why is your mouth hanging open like that. It appears you do not agree with the Mistress’ account?”

“No, Quadrant. That is, yes, Quadrant. I do agree with that account as a number of even further things have now dropped into place. I have learnt that Mistress Julina here has a company that runs inns in Tranidor, Bezlet and Blackstone. I have also learnt that she owns a company that is involved in the development of Palarand’s railroads. AND she is involved with the opening up of barging services up the Palar as far as Bezlet. I had not connected her other activities too. But I know enough about Blackstone to know that she must be telling the truth. What she says ties in so much.”

Gyth, the wretch, then added: “And she invented the hand glass mirrors. And she invented the Beam Lanterns. And she invented the wender system. And she invented the bacs!”

“Oh hush, Gyth! All that is not relevant.”

“Not relevant?” This came from Waxerwet. “The Quadrant needs to know about you and us, after all there was that fuss with the then Baroness in Dekarran Castle, so they MUST be careful. We have just let him know your full talents. Although I confess I would fain know how you know about that Guards’ drink!”

She turned to Quadrant Shar who was looking a little as if he had been hit on the head with a sandbag. “Our mission to here is because Prince Keren himself has asked our dear Julina to open an institute of learning down in Dekarran. He asked that she leave everything she knows and holds dear behind her, and move down here, just to teach cooks to be better. The PRINCE himself. You may ask him when we get to the Castle soon.”

Quadrant Shar, however, looked confused.

“Ask the Prince? How? He and his party moved on to Palarand and the Palace two mornings ago!”

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