Julina makes more discoveries - some shocking in the extreme - as the town learns to live again without their Baroness, but prepare for some of her improvements.

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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 © 2013 - 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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When I started these tales, I envisaged just writing one after the other, giving glimpses in various dusty corners of my early life, and yet not getting complicated. But alas, it has not so transpired. It seems that in order to make sense of certain passages, I have to explain more and more. Earlier, I had mentioned an afternoon in which three events occurred which were of significance to the town in various ways. I had intended to just write about each of the three in turn, having started with the story of the evening we got to know Master Michen so much better. But when I started the other two stories I realised that I would have to keep breaking into the tale to explain background events and people. And so I went off to mention some of that very background before returning to those three tales. But already I see more divergences in the near future, so I have as a result had to decide that these tales will need to be intertwined with others.

For now, we have first to return in time to that momentous afternoon. I had had a visit from two sisters who lived up in the Vale and who wanted to learn some number and letter basics which started me investigating others who might like some schooling. Then I had had a visit from some friends who had persuaded me to take some time off, just a bell or so, to go with all of them to the afternoon ‘parade’ up at the campingplace where all the pre-adults and just-turned-adults of the town walk round in large circles pretending not to be sizing up all the others. There were always laughs and giggles and even some flirting, which we all enjoyed — or mostly all.

I had realised with a shock that it had been well over half a year since I had joined in the fun, so I decided there and then to go, since my next younger sister was now capable of providing an evening meal for our family. So it came to pass that I went to the camping place that afternoon, an afternoon in the period that started just after the attack on the Baroness up the Vale, and before the enormous wagon train pulled in with orders from the King for the Baroness and the Prince to return to the Palace. I had checked that Kords, my sister, had everything in hand and then told her I was leaving for a bell or so but would return for the supper. I knew she would be panicked by that announcement, but I was able to reassure her fairly easily. So for the very first time in months, I could have a bell or two to myself, with no worries about caring for my family (a housewife never actually ceases to worry, but I just pushed that to the back of my mind). And so I went just before the appointed time …

I reached the campingplace and was immediately further shocked. Normally we would have nearly all of it to ourselves, but this day there was over a half of it occupied; with many of the miners using it for their tent homes, and with more wagons than I had seen before, there were people and things dotted about all over the place.

There was of course the abandoned wagon left behind by Trogan’s mob — they had stolen it from someone they likely murdered, a poor innocent wagoneer named Grout. But they had no dranakh to haul it, after she had wandered off and never returned to them. I made a mental note to tell Epp, as she and Shemel, now very much an ‘item’, had one wagon and effectively two dranakh — maybe they could do something with it.

And there was an entire family camped around it; I suddenly recognised the two young girls who had come to visit earlier - Venna and Kalisel - and they recognised me at the same time. I think they were relieved to see someone who was not a total and complete stranger, as they came bounding over to me. I confess my heart sank, as I wanted to be able to have a carefree flirt or two and a giggle with chums, but I plastered a smile onto my face and allowed them to drag me to meet their family. They were quite charming, especially the mother, Rathina. She chatted with me for a while, introducing her husband and his somehow brother but I confess I was a little confused with the family links. There was a grandmother and a grandfather, but they weren’t married to each other, and some cousins and so on. I was trying to work out how to escape politely when Rathina tugged me aside, shooing the others away. Looking back, I was amazed just how quickly I found myself telling her of my life. I think she had that knack that only a few people have - she was a good listener. She was surprised that someone as young as I was in effect a mother, and I could feel the reappraisal happening as I added a few facts and stories.

A light seemed to dawn in her head and she suddenly grinned and said: “You have a break now from your chores, right?”

I nodded in agreement.

“And this is the first one for some time I suspect?”

Again a nod from me.

“Alright, I shall keep the younger and older family members away from you.” A wistful look crossed her face as she continued: “I did so love the passage, as we termed it, when I was your age!”

I was surprised at her insight and very grateful. I was about to throw my arms around her in appreciation when her elder son came up to ask her something. She saw my gratitude though in my eyes and smiled widely as she eased herself away from us.

And so I started chatting with Denesar. He was counted an adult, but was still at that awkward-around-girls stage. I tried to put him at ease by asking him to describe life up there, not being able to imagine living so relatively alone; but the only things he saw from day to day were pakh, dranakh, frayen, dungheaps and chores. They rarely saw any strangers, with the possible exception of a woman who rode a frayen and seemed to be interested in insects that flew, as I reported in an earlier tale.

(‘Older’ Julina says: I have taken the liberty of numbering the tales. She is referring to number 03.)

I found myself talking far longer than is usual with a stranger and didn’t really notice the time slipping by. My eyes were of course also busy, darting round here and there. At one moment, I caught sight of Rathina watching us, just as a sort of appraising questioning critical look flitted across her face. I didn’t really know what that meant – then.

I next caught sight of my friends and acquaintances; they were arriving in two or three small bunches, so I excused myself from Denesar, and went over to join them.

Only to be teased by them all as they kept eyeing Denesar, who seemed to be eyeing us. I blushed of course and vehemently denied anything was happening with him. But he was a lovely man to look at, and I secretly enjoyed all the innuendo. My own personality would wither and die though if I was to be taken up into the Vale to live out my life far away from other people, so I knew that nothing would ever come of it, but it wa … oh Maker!

It was at that moment that I recognised Rathina’s look and blushed again as I realised she was eyeing me up as a potential partner for her son! Of course, my blushes were only fodder to the teasing, but we enjoyed the giggles. I soon turned the tables though and diverted attention from myself to one of the others in my close group of four — myself, Molleena, Kellonika and Gythy (to give them all their proper names) all bound forever together by our experiences when we were much younger.

I watched as Molleena shook her wrists for the umpteenth time to get her bracelet to slither down to her wrist. She had only half a moment before raised her forearm and shaken the thing so it went nearer her elbow. She tossed her hair far more frequently than the rest of us did, and she arched her back more than we. Her eyes were the most expressive of us all, and she was attracting the attention of the boys — and she knew it. We could all see her step it up to a new level — a level that was almost shocking. Furthermore, we knew that she knew exactly what she was doing. The boys had their tongues hanging out and started to crowd us — it was like eppris to a honeypot.

“Hey sweetheart. Whatcha bovvering wiv these lads for? Two pumps and a squirt and it’s all over. Come wiv me, an’ I’ll show you what a real man can do. You’ll be singin’ in ecstasy right enuff.”

A rough, very large stranger had barged his way through the youngsters and stood addressing Molleena, ignoring all the rest of us completely. My eyes darted round as I could hear and feel the implicit violence in the air. I caught Rathina’s eyes, who seemed to take in what was happening at a mere glance. She quickly said something to her husband, Brethen. He and Brandar started towards us with intent in their eyes and some haste in their steps.

I thought quickly.

“If it pleases you, sir, we children are just having fun.” I hoped that the implied message that we were too young would get through.

His gaze switched to me: “There ain’t no way a CHILD could do those moves, so you jus’ shut your gob little one and let us adults sort this out ’twixt us.”

His creepy eyes turned back to Molleena. My heart lurched. I could see she knew exactly what she was doing and it, seemed, what she was hoping for. She wet her lips with her tongue, thrust her bosom out even further, and started twirling some of her hair around a finger. She bit her lower lip which seemed to make it swell slightly and go a shade redder. My anxiety levels shot skywards.

“Well,” she started. “A REAL man would at the very least introduce himself to start with,” she replied, an enigmatic smile on her lips. The rest of us were shocked at all sorts of levels — not least because there had been no immediate outright rejection.

“Er ... excuse me?” I said desperately, trying to use up some time for the approaching men to get near to us.

“I already told you, noisy little girl. Shut up.”

“But I really think there is something you need to know.”

“Her body told me everyfink wot I wanted to hear.”

“Yes, sir, but …” I put some desperation into my voice, which seemed to work as he switched his attention back to me.

“But wot?”

“Well, er, the thing is …”

“Last chance. Wot?”

“Her father is about thirty strides away with his brother and approaching rapidly.” I gambled on him not knowing that the men nearing us were nothing to do with Molleena, and it paid off. The man looked startled and glanced quickly at the oncoming men before taking off in the other direction, trying to look innocently nonchalant. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Which turned to anger fairly quickly after the adults turned round and went back.

“Molleena, what on Anmar were you doing? Don’t you know how dangerous that was? Not just for you, but for us as well. What if there had been more of them. We are supposed to be your friends, and yet you endangered us as well.”

She had the grace to look abashed, as she said: “Oh — I didn’t think. I didn’t want to involve you. I just couldn’t help it.” Her voice was on the point of breaking, so I grabbed her and the other two and we four went off to be a bit more private. The others knew we were a tight-knit group and left us alone, knowing that they would eventually find out what we talked about.

Except it didn’t quite work out that way.

Molleena gave a little sob, burst into tears and rushed off homewards. I started after her, but she suddenly stopped, whirled round and said: “Not now, ’Lina, not now. Soon, I promise.”

She is the one person in Blackstone to whom I can confide all my innermost feelings and my bond to her is somehow a degree stronger than it is to Gyth and Kelly. This was therefore a relief, as I knew she would never break any promise made to me. She was an only child and her parents were so proud of her, their faces shone whenever they talked about her.

We three returned to the others and just shrugged it all off, saying she wasn’t feeling well. It took maybe a quarter of a bell before the carefree attitude returned, and then my time was all laughs and giggles — even some flirting, but at a considerably lesser level.

As I made my way back across the slope to our home, I was practically skipping. In fact, I deliberately chose to go downhill for a bit, down the track parallel to the Main Street that leads to the back of the Claw, just so I could let gravity enhance my mood. I hadn’t realised just how much I had been deprived of some simple fun — it was like a healing cure to me, albeit far too short.

It was two days before Molly and I managed to have some private time and it proved to be awkward for us both at first. But it then developed in a most surprising, and at least for me, educative way.

Molly had for some time now been doing certain activities about which I knew absolutely nothing. I had thought we were closer than that and I felt quite hurt at first, but she replied that I had been so tied up with my family and some domestic emergencies, that she hadn’t wanted to add to my burden. And there had been the inbuilt awkwardnesses that Trogan’s arrival had brought in accompaniment. Which was a valid point actually. I did point out, however, that there had been plenty of opportunities later. We agreed that circumstances had cropped up, but we were glad to be back to our tight harmony again. But I could detect a change in her. There was a certain distance — no, not distance, more a vagueness — as if part of her mind was disconnected, or maybe hidden away, locked from the rest of us.

We were in her huts, her parents out tending the plants and the few pakh they had. She was sobbing as she described her battle with herself, a battle that I had no idea until then existed. She described it as a compulsion over which she had no control. I told her that I could not understand what the attraction could be.

She tried to explain it to me, but what she was describing was so far away from anything in my experience that it was obvious another method would be required just to get me to come close to understanding.

She then decided to attempt to show me and I reluctantly agreed to let her try.

This was not a scenario I had ever envisaged and it took a strong effort of will to participate. Eventually, however, the lesson started.

I allowed her to match her actions to her words as she loosened my bodice and started gently to massage my breast, gently pinching the nipple as it swelled. She then switched attention to the other one.

I had of course investigated my own body, I am not ashamed to admit — but this was the first time anyone else had laid fingers on my flesh, and I was forced to concede that it was somehow a whole lot better.

As I sank back and closed my eyes, I started by telling myself that I needed to understand Molly’s reactions, needed to understand her explanations. I forced myself not to be tense, which of course only made me tense. So I then forced myself to try my hardest to relax.

By and by, I relaxed, knowing that she would never damage me, and that I had a bell or so before I had to be anywhere.

And, I have to confess, I was really rather curious.

I treated her hands as gift-bringing friends, and I became an active participant as I learnt to be passive, if that makes sense. It was a strange release for me, to give myself over just to pleasure and it was something that from that moment on I rapidly came to enjoy; her whispered words in my ears, her nibbles on my nipples, and on my ears and on my neck. All were stirring feelings in me only previously hinted at in my lonely, necessary quiet, fumblings with myself.

Soon I was imagining however that it was someone else entirely.

The sensations were incredible and I rapidly starting enjoying it myself. When she laid her lips on mine, the timing was perfect and a shiver of shock shot through me. My lips parted of their own accord, and the blood started to pound in my body. It wasn’t long before I felt damp down there and my legs attempted to open all by themselves. My breathing was just a series of short gasps and I felt my back arch. I felt her other hand gather up my skirts and I raised myself to allow them to be bunched around my waist.

It seemed like ages later, as her assault on my lips and my breasts continued, that her finger swooped onto exactly the right spot and my body jerked. I was no longer just merely damp as my legs tried to open even wider and I felt my intimate parts thrust forward to get more, more — I must have more. Her finger knew exactly what to do, and I felt like a huge wave was building in me. I know I moaned aloud as my hands reached for her breasts to return the favour. She hissed in delight as I found a stiff nipple and I rolled it between my fingers. She clasped my thigh between her legs and started rubbing her mound against my flexing muscles.

Molly suddenly stood up, away from me. I moaned in what I discovered was extreme frustration.

“Now you know, ’Lina. That is how I feel just being near a man. Any man.”

My scattered wits tried hard to reassemble themselves. It took some time as I zig-zagged between frustration, shock, anger, amazement and wonder. And compassion.

It would be remiss of me to simply write down everything that she then told me, but I have had her permission to post the following overview — much will have to be left to your imagination!

Based upon promises made, Molly allowed herself to be seduced by Perril, the son of the then shoemaker, Jasinet’s brother. She believed his promises and actually freely gave away her virginity to him. She discovered that she adored the physical act. Coming from a very strict family, in which her father and uncles are all convinced that womenfolk are beneath them, she discovered that with sex, she had, for the first time in her life, a ‘voice’. Men actually listened to her. She was paid attention to. It was a heady discovery.

She was no longer a sub-species.

And she found she loved her body’s responses to the stimulation.

Somehow, Perril wormed his way into her mind, and she just could not say no.

She remembers listening to his voice one day after they had made love, as they were just talking about this and that. The subject got onto grakh somehow and he stood up and got something from a shelf to use to illustrate what he was saying. He stood over her as he showed her the way a grakh flew. He used a shiny metal cylinder in his hands as she looked upwards to him standing over her. He waved the shiny cylinder back and forth and she concentrated on it. His words somehow became soothing and at the same time compulsive.

That’s all she remembers of that particular encounter, she says she must have fallen asleep just after that. She thought that Perril would be angry with her, but when she woke, he had a wide smile on his face — wider than she had ever seen before. She interpreted that as a declaration of his love for her, and she said that at that very moment she fell deeply in love with him. She would do anything for him.

By this time, I had mastered my body’s reactions and was once more back in control. I understood her a lot more now, but still failed to comprehend why she was unable to control herself as I had been able to do.

But from that day on, she has been literally addicted to having sexual intimacy. And that somehow Perril became more like the men of her family, treating her as a mere chattel. She gave herself to him more frequently to try to rekindle that delicious smile she had seen, but that seemed to merely make him despise her somehow. She became desperate to please him. It was difficult of course, knowing that very little that went on was missed by someone in the village.

One day, he brought round another girl and told Molly and the other girl to make out together. They both found themselves obeying.

Another day, however, the relationship with Perril finally and drastically changed. Perril threatened to tell her parents about her unless she did what he told her to.

Which meant that soon it involved her making love with other men and watching afterwards as they paid coin to Perril. He showed his contempt for her more and more every time. This wasn’t frequent as the town gossips would have seized upon it, but Perril was surprisingly inventive when it came to explaining things away.

Occasionally, Perril would turn up with the other girl and watch as the two of them performed for him. These times were passed off as just friends visiting. Molly learnt that this other girl had fallen for the same promises and was also strangely compelled. Molly’s home was the preferred place, as she was the only one frequently alone during the afternoons, and there was only one more hut in direct view, the occupant being away every day.

She was sure that the other girl had not simply drowned in the river as everyone thought, but had taken her own life. Molly said she felt that way quite often, and yet could not bring herself to do it.

I was horrified. This was my best of best friends and I had not been there for her. She assured me that she did not blame me, she knew how hard I was working for my family, but she admitted to feeling cut off from anyone who cared. By this time, Trogan had arrived and there was very little light-hearted visiting going on anywhere anyhow.

She revealed with a very teary voice that Perril had even tried negotiating with Trogan’s men; in exchange for easy times for his family, then they could have sex with Molly whenever her parents were out. They, however, found themselves more attracted to game they had to chase and hunt, or beat into submission or take by force — not someone who was just compliant. Perril of course did all this behind his parents back, they being convinced that it was their reasonableness and sense that made their dealings with Trogan relatively peaceful compared to some. Molly could never understand why Trogan didn’t tell his parents about Perril but for some reason he didn’t, for which she was grateful — it would have been round the village in a flash.

Molly found something prevented her telling her family what was going on, and the more often she did things, the deeper her addiction and the more of a hurdle it was to confess. She broke down again at that point, saying that she wished she had come to me in the first instance, as she could tell me with no qualms.

Molly sees this time she was describing as the lowest of low points, because she just became a thing once again, an implement to be used. And Perril knew this, keeping her dangling like some puppet on strings — an entertainment he had seen on one of his Tranidor visits.

But she was still addicted to the act itself, and Perril seemed to be in her mind urging her on.

Trogan’s reign came to its violent end, and suddenly there were more people out and about. Perril’s opportunities became scarcer and this made him angry — blaming the Baroness somehow for turning his little world upside down.

Even now, she knows that Perril is dead, she knows that he can affect her no more, but still he is in her head, telling her she needs to experience those feelings again and again and again.

She knows she shouldn’t be like this, but she accepts that she is. She needs to have sex. As simple as that. Now Perril was gone, there had been no demands upon her, but she still sometimes heard Perril’s voice in her head demanding that she service some man. Sometimes, like the other night, she just had to have someone, preferably a man, but a woman would do to “take the edge off”, as she put it.

I felt really, really sorry for her, not simply because of what she had been through in the past year but also because she was being torn; her addiction was simply forcing her to do it. I did manage to extract a promise from her that she would hold back on her seduction routines when we others were around. I also got a promise that she would come to me if she encountered any difficulties. It was simply the best I could hope for.

I knew that I mustn’t hurry off, that would imply that I wanted to distance myself from her in her times of trouble. But in actuality, I wanted to distance myself from her. I had another burning question in my mind that I needed to examine in private. I managed to calm her down and she told me she felt so much better knowing that someone else knew her depths of despair. Her face lost some of the haunted look she had been bearing recently.

As I wandered away, my mind reeling from all that had happened and that I had learnt, that burning question remained in my head, nudging, nudging, nudging at my conscience. I tried to lock it away, but it refused to be shoved aside.

Why had I wished that it was Kellonika doing those things to my body?

My confusion only grew through the next few days, but I managed to control myself. Was I wanting it to have been Kelly because it was Kelly, or was it because, if it had to be a woman, then I wanted it to be Kelly rather than Molly? I knew I was still interested in men, though. I often found myself eyeing up someone. So why was I even contemplating a woman in any pairing? Was I some sort of freak?

I had plenty of distractions to aid the process of regaining normalcy, mind you. Outside of the daily distraction of running a family, we had the arrival of the giant caravan of wagons, the subsequent meeting with the women’s group, my sounding out other girls about some form of schooling, the departure of the Prince and Baroness and all their retinue and associates, and then the move of Master Michen and his father into the centre of town — a move my family all assisted.

There was the formal announcement of the appointment of Fedren to be the Sheriff, as the Watch Officer was now to be called and the formal presentation of Bleskin as the Steward. I was also involved when Bezan started to make plans for the positioning of this new Community Hall. Master Bezan had come round to discuss things with Father, as it was indeed as the women had envisaged; the Hall was most likely to be built on the site of Master Michen’s old house, now abandoned. In order to accommodate that, we and two other families would need to be moved as well. I was consulted on the layout of a new house that would be built for us, another new job that was of immense interest to me. And allowed me to do something other than that wretched self-analysis.

We had another women’s meeting and several things were agreed there, which will become apparent in some future tales.

But there was an event of major impact on my life that happened shortly thereafter. I met the woman named Swayga for the first time. I had no foreknowledge though that this would be significant, as you will see.

Father had been released from the constraints imposed by Trogan and had immediately done a quick study of his domain. You may remember that he was responsible for the roadside ditches and markers and so on, all the way from Blackstone down to the Chaarn junction. Having first examined the damages that had occurred all along the full length, he explained to me once that the most efficient way of effecting the required maintenance was to get the far end done first as the work nearer home was easier to perform and the workers could simply go out from Blackstone and return. This made sense to me, and apparently to the others involved.

This was one of the reasons that Father had spent so much time recently down at the roadhouse. When he came back home, he told us all about the amazing new design that had been suggested by the Baroness, and the good work done by Master Bezan to get it through in such a swift time and so efficiently. Most of the staff that work there had been recruited from Blackstone — this was really helpful for not a few families — but there were others that had come up from Tranidor as well. These included a brother and sister pair. His name is Steef and she is Swayga.

Master Bezan told the Staff Captain (I forget the word he used, never having heard it before, but my query elicited that there was a man in charge of the staff that worked at the roadhouse, so I call him the Staff Captain) that the Baroness had strongly suggested that all the staff there do something called ‘rotation’. This means that they are not permanently in their one little room, which might be shared with others, but that every so often, they go and work for one of the suppliers of food, or coal or animal fodder or something. Just to have a change of scenery occasionally. Say maybe every fourth week, go and spend a week doing something other than what they normally did.

So Father brought Steef and Swayga up with him, so they could learn more from Master Michen about the hunting, and from some of the farmers. We had by this time our hands full as Master Bezan was getting our new home planned, the old one obstructing a needed access route to the chosen site for the Community Hall. I was, as mentioned elsewhere, involved with the design of the layout of the new house and had spent some time with father and Master Bezan.

Our last major meeting together of that period was when Master Bezan came to share our food one evening. This ended up dropping quite a large surprise to me. The younger ones had been bundled off to bed and there was just the three of us sitting round the table.

“So Master Kordulen, I believe that we have an agreement with regard to the home for your family? Mistress Julina here has some very sensible suggestions and I am satisfied that she understands all that is involved. I must congratulate you both on an exceptionally well-brought-up family. And I have no remaining qualms about asking you to contribute your knowledge to another project that is of urgency.” He turned to me before continuing. “Mistress Julina, I would like to ask your father to spend some days, maybe as long as a week exploring for me down around the Chaarn Junction. This will mean quite a few more nights away from you. Do I have your permission to ask it of him?”

I swallowed hard before replying but realised that actually it wouldn’t be that bad, and this sounded like some sort of promotion or change of direction for Father, whose eyes were telling me he wanted to do it.

“Thank you Master Bezan for the consideration, and I’m sure I can cope. But it would be nice to know when and maybe some more details.”

“It is all actually quite simple to explain, perchance not so simple to action. As you are both aware, we foresee greatly increased traffic as more and more coal is transported down the valley. There is however a problem on the road. The uphill climb to join the Chaarn trade route, means that we cannot fully load the wagons, thus requiring more wagons and animals and also more time. Before this incline, the route is all downhill. After the road joins the Chaarn road, it is also all downhill.”

I inadvertently interrupted his speech with a deep sigh. I was immediately embarrassed.

“Why the sigh, Mistress?”

“Oh I do apologise. It’s just that I have never travelled down that road as anything other than a babe in arms, and yet I feel I know every stride from Father’s reports and from tales from others.”

“I am amazed! Surely, Master Kordulen, you have taken your family at least to Tranidor?”

“Regretfully no, Master Bezan. I have always wanted to, but when Julissa left us and poor Julina took over so well, I have not had the courage to ask her to do something that would add so to her burden.”

“And I have had no wish to disrupt Father, who works so hard for us.”

“Oh Maker! I really feel that you should see more of the valley than just this little town! I will see what I can do to arrange for somewhere for you to stay.”

“Oh Master, there’s no need for that. Mistress Epp — oh sorry, I should say Mistress Megrozen — has a house in Tranidor and she does a regular run with townsfolk. She also has a business down there that apparently produces enough for the upkeep of the house. I shall simply ask her — she is a friend and I’m sure she could fit us in sometime in the future. I wanted to wait until little Korden was a bit older — it would be easier for me then.”

“Really? That IS interesting. I have met Mistress Epp briefly. I was unaware she had a residence down there, let alone a business — why on Anmar does she stay here? I must discuss …

“Oh … forget that for now! I’ll finish first with my project description. The problem is that uphill stretch on the route. I would like to find an alternative route along which to build a new road which would cut out that incline. I have a team looking for possibilities on the other side of the river, but I thought to ask you, being the most knowledgeable in the Town, to check out the possibilities on this side of the river. The far side would involve at least one bridge across the Bray, which would add to the expense.

“The route must eventually be wide enough for say three wagons, but in the first instance we could make it so traffic going down valley only can use the new road, the old road can service the up valley traffic for the time being. Therefore, we could start with a way large enough for just one wagon and sideriders. What is very important is that there must be no sharp bends, but, having said that, it does not have to be straight. Any bends would have to be sweeping ones, that if they described a circle would be not less than an eighth, or maybe a tenth of a mark across, gentler curves being preferred.”

Father hissed a little as he acknowledged the description.

“It would be a good idea not to cut out access to existing roadhouses after the junction, but if the route chosen means that that happens, then so be it. This new route must be consistently downhill, preferably with a constant angle of descent — if that is just not possible, and I strongly suspect that it will not prove to be possible, then at the very most it can be flat in parts. No uphill stretch though, that is also of the utmost importance. If necessary we can cut out pieces of ground, and maybe use that waste to support any stretches that might need building up for whatever reason. I imagine that the total length of the piece would be about a hand of marks from where it diverges from the existing road to where it rejoins it. Maybe six or as much as seven.

“It would be nice to have some idea of possibilities before the winter sets in, as we could then start construction early in the spring of next year. I will add that eventually we expect to construct a new, wide, gently sloped, gently winding roadbed all the way from here down valley, probably as far as Haligo.”

“Maker!” breathed Father in astonishment, “there is more to this than just a road, I’ll wager.”

“You may well be right, Master. But I need not explain that just yet. Not because it’s a secret, but simply because it is very complicated and not even certain that that would be the chosen solution. But the immediate problem we have is that incline upwards on the route between here and Tranidor. Do you feel capable of doing some investigation?”

“Aye, Master Bezan. Actually I happen to know there is a network of foresters’ tracks down there. I have always wanted to explore them. Julina dear, when may I start? Let’s say I will be gone a week.”

“If you could do some of the repairs tomorrow and the day after, then I think we’ll be good after that.”

“If the repairs are not major, then why bother? We will not be here for very much longer?”

“Oh, I was forgetting for a moment. Then you just need to check the things we’ll need to have working properly for the winter. We would like to have a family dinner, just all of us, before you go off again.”

“Alright. Tomorrow evening we have Steef and Swayga coming for a meal, so then we will have a family meal the following evening. I will leave in the morning after that, with your permission, Master?”

“Certainly. That’s faster than I expected. Come and find me at the roadhouse and I will arrange for your accommodation and victuals there. And now, Mistress Julina I must thank you for a most pleasant evening, and thank you Master Kordulen for introducing me to such a wonderful family. And your home-made wine is very palatable. My thanks, and my wishes for a good night.”

So started Father’s newest project and we met Swayga and her brother Steef as a family the following evening, as will be described in the next instalment.

Wow, more amazing changes starting with so little fanfare.

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