A long way up the Great Valley (but still not at the end) ...

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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 © 2020 - 2022 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 - 2022 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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The man roused himself from his reverie. His robe fell into place as he stood from where he had been squatting. He glanced up at the sun as he strode down to the shingle beach where his tiny rowing boat lay tilted on the stones. He gathered his skirts to him as he carefully stepped down the deep ridge at the normal high water mark.

In a few months even this ridge this shall be deep under the surface when the rains come.

He reached the flimsy-seeming vehicle that would take him home.

I’m glad I crossed the Sirrel today rather than my normal Faral crossing. The views back across the valley to my homeland are magnificent. Mind you, the return across the big river will be hard work. Nothing I’m not capable of, however.

He was already planning his route even before he had his craft into the water. Having spent the most part of his life on the waters round here, he was almost certain he could navigate them blindfolded. It often seemed as if the river spoke to him, so attuned to its moods was he. He grinned to himself. Messages from upstream are a lot stronger than those from downstream. His grin turned into a scowl. Much to be regretted! If only I had indeed known more information from downstream before those wretched Yodans turned my life upside down.

As was his wont, he dismissed any negative thoughts even as he shoved the frail craft back into the water and wrapped the safety line round his wrist. He held one of his two oars in the other hand, the second lying securely in the belly of the boat. It was the carried oar with which he kept the boat out in the water despite the line constantly dragging it in towards the bank. He walked scuttlingly upstream along the foreshore for what he judged to be about four ghallies.

There was no marking of any obvious distinction which would have been useful to anyone else when he stopped, looked up and down the waterway and then across the wide river to the far shore. He frowned, took up his sideward trudge once more and continued for another ghally or so. He didn’t actually count the exact 250 paces of a ghally, that would have been impossible as his body was necessarily twisted to pull the boat along, but he knew himself to be very accurate in his judgment of distances.

Again he stopped. Again he looked around. And again he felt the water, feeling the way the boat was resisting his pulling, seeing the way it pushed at the rocks. He looked at the current at both the sides and in the middle of the river, at the shadows from the sun that was just about to start setting. He studied the skies, the clouds, the winds.

He nodded.

With an ease born of much practice, indeed by now it was a solidly ingrained practice, he grabbed up his oar and skirts, stepped into the boat and shoved off into the current. He rapidly deployed both oars, then swept them in a forceful motion that brought him swiftly out into the grip of the powerful stream. Constantly rowing, but sometimes doing it a little stronger than at others, he made good his way across the Sirrel.

As he later neared what had been the far shore, he started more often to glance over his shoulder. By doing so, he kept more frequent checks on his position and all the other factors he subconsciously used. He was pleased to see that he was well within his self-imposed safety limits and was on course for a perfect landing at his chosen point on the Bibek side of the Faral. He sped down and across the confluence of the two rivers, being carried naturally further back towards the centre of the Sirrel, albeit comparatively slightly. A deft stroke or three brought him back to nearer the bank where the strength of the current was markedly less.

A few more swift and powerful strokes took him round the end of the breakwater he had been aiming for and he floated then into the relative calm of the side pool, out of the drag of the fierce main current and where there was good protection from wind and waves. There were three boathouses there, all a little run down but the one on the right, on the downstream side was in better condition than the others.

So the complete and utter absence of anything inside it until he moored his tiny boat would have been all the more surprising to a casual observer.

After he secured the craft, he scrambled up onto the boardwalk there. Standing upright, he leaned against the wall and gathered his strength to himself once more. Not just as recovery from his rowing but also to gain some strength for the trials he knew he would soon endure.

Which he did.

And which was continued into the next day.

*** *** ***

“You said you were going to do that!”

“No Dab, I didn’t. We were discussing various ways I could proceed now my business will have to be wound up and this so-called solution was entirely a product of your own thinking. I suggested five or six other ways of going ahead, but you have fixated on this version and don’t listen to anything else.”

“Yussuf! You KNOW that’s not true. I even told my friend Zenab that you were going to do it that way, as soon as you said it.”

“Dab! You just don’t listen, do you? This is entirely a fabrication of your mind. All I did was say that it was a possibility. I now regret I didn’t spurn it immediately. The idea is inefficient and impractical and will give us only limited relief.”

“You always put me down. Try to make me feel stupid and inferior. Whenever I ask a question you sneer at me. I am allowed to ask questions. Am I not your wife? And any relief, however small, is better than none.”

“That’s enough now woman. You always drag any conversation away from its point, just as you are trying to do now. Can you not, just for once, stick to the subject at hand? We are supposed to be discussing all the ways we might have as to how to revive our fortunes.”

“Well I already told you ... how often now? ... just how to do it.”

“But that idea of yours fails to take into consideration so many of the factors that are relevant,” he said testily.

“Well I would do it that way.”

“Yes,” he said both wryly and still a little tautly, “I’m sure you would.”

“So you ARE going to do it that way! At last.”

“NO I AM NOT! CAN YOU NOT FINALLY UNDERSTAND THAT?”

It had been enough for him, her dogged determination to stick to her idea and not consider any other way, to assume that only her idea had merit, her permanent insistence upon not letting others get on with things, always having to be involved and showing total distrust of anyone else doing anything. His fists clenched in his frustration, his jaw set and his pulse throbbed. His cheeks had reddened.

“There’s no need to shout, you bully. You were the one who let our boats be taken from us, you were the one who didn’t take adequate precautions.”

He opened his mouth to shout some more at his wife but realised for probably the 1000th time in his life that it would be a totally useless exercise.

With considerable strength, he took a deep breath, swallowed a couple of times, and then, using a forced moderate tone, said: “And all this is solving our problems how? Can we please simply stick to the subject? Can we stick to facts and not half-formed ideas that bubble up inside your head? Can we maybe look at ALL the facts not just choose some of them?”

“I don’t understand what you have become. You are always so bad tempered nowadays.”

“Gah!” he exclaimed in frustration. He turned on his heel and stomped out of the house once more, frightened that he might resort to raising his fists to her, or even striking her.

“That’s right,” Dab called after him, “run away like you always do.”

How can the woman be so obtuse?

It was a very satisfying CRASH with which the door swung to behind him, cutting off any more remarks.

He walked down the path to the street and leaned on the gatepost, letting his pulse slow gently. His eyes swept over the hillslopes up above the town. The sight of all those fruit bushes and orchards always helped him ground himself. He enjoyed the strange regularly-shaped plantations, created specially for the Narakh, that were dotted so irregularly across the bountiful fields. His inner turmoil eased gradually. He watched the avians wheel above him and the animals scampering up amongst the berries. He lost himself once more in his thoughts.

Sometime later, not exactly certain precisely how much later, he became aware of a regular stomping getting ever louder and louder.

He switched his gaze to the bend in the street just a little lower down. He was unsurprised to see a squad of armsmen appear. There were a dozen of them following their colourfully dressed leader. What did surprise him however was when the leader pointed to him and held up a hand to prevent him turning away.

He straightened up and unconsciously dusted down his robe as the squad got ever nearer.

“Craftmaster Yussuf?” enquired the leader, calling out from a hand or so of strides away.

“Indeed so,” he replied, shooting along with his remark a querying look.

“Senior Captain Hannar, at your service!” The officer came to a halt just in front of him and snapped to attention.

Yussuf looked on in amazement as the Captain then turned on his heel and clicked his fingers.

In response, a very nervous under-officer, with deeply reddening cheeks, came forward clutching tightly onto a scroll. The young lad, for he was surely not yet a full man, also snapped to attention next to his Captain. He raised the scroll to eye level, unrolled it with both hands, and started with a slightly squeaky voice that was just too loud for the circumstances, but which soon deepened as he intoned: “His Grace, the Margrave of Faral, Simbran the Younger, has charged me to invite you to meet with him at your earliest opportunity. We all are here to escort you to the Fortress.” He waved his hand to include the squad with him, nearly dropping the scroll as he did so. Many smiles were being suppressed.

There was however no doubt that the ‘invitation’ was expected to be accepted on the instant.

“I must find a more suitable robe, Captain. I shall go and change and rejoin you in just a few moments.” He swung on his heel and scurried back to the house, his brain feverishly worrying about the reason for this summons. His conscience was clear so he was not really worried about being arrested (And surely the Captain would have said he was arresting me if that was the case?) but he could imagine no other grounds for this summons.

Behind him, the Captain was saying: “Well done! You see, it wasn’t so difficult after all. Now if I may offer a few little tips? The Craftmaster is a citizen of Faralmark and so did not require His Grace’s full titling. You are allowed ...”

The door swung to behind Yussuf, cutting off any more of that conversation. Yussuf was half-grinning even as he was wondering what ’twas all about.

“Decided to slink back in have you?”

The grin dropped immediately from his lips.

“Hush now, Dab. There is a squad of soldiers outside that have been sent to escort me to the Margrave. I need my best robe immediately. If you could fetch it out while I swiftly wash my face and hands?” He dragged his current robe up over his head as he turned to the water butt.

“Why are you being arrested?”

He sighed before injecting a note of urgency into his voice: “I’m NOT being arrested. Do you think they would allow me back in unescorted if I was being arrested? Allow me to just simply turn away from them and take refuge in my house? Now will you please fetch my robe? I must hurry.”

“Well you must have done something wrong? Unless you … oh! Typical of you to arrange an appointment and not tell me. How selfish you are. I would have loved to have some notice that we were going to meet the Margrave of all people. I must find my best robes. Do you think I should also wear my best jewellery?”

He sighed again, this time very loudly.

“YOU are not invited. ’Tis I alone.”

“You are so unfeeling! Do you ever consider me? Are you then ashamed of me?”

He had finished drying himself off by then, so he just pushed past her, saying: “Never mind. I will fetch my robe myself.”

“Don’t you just barge me out of the way, you brute.”

Why oh why can she not just do something without querying it? Or without suggesting better ways which aren’t actually better? Or without understanding?

He felt his irritation rising again. But he swallowed it back, dressed himself properly, and went back downstairs.

“Right then, I shall be off.”

“When shall you be back? I suppose you will require a dinner of some sort? But we have but little in the store, since you haven’t been working for months and we have sold almost everything off. How you expect me to run a household like this, I just don’t know.”

He sighed again: “As I have no idea at all as to why the Margrave requires me, how do you imagine I should know how long I am going to be?”

“Well if you had arranged this properly you WOULD know!”

He just shook his head and went out of the front door, not trusting himself to speak civilly.

“How dare you walk out on me? Come back here ...”.

Any further words were cut off by the closing of the door. Which was not overly gentle.

*** *** ***

“I understand you had two hands and more of ships, trading mostly downriver?”

Yussuf shook himself he hoped unobtrusively. ’Twas ever thus; given the Margrave’s physical stature, the depth of the voice that came rumbling out of his chest was ever startling at first. Yussuf had, he believed, successfully hidden his … amazement.

“Aye, Your Grace. Until they disappeared. I can only assume that they were casualties of the Yodan war. I have sent many messages downriver at a considerable cost in an attempt to find out what happened but as yet have had no replies. It is most frustrating as well as worrying.”

“I can fully comprehend your feelings. That was a war which has also cost this entire country much coin. I have asked around about you. I must confess that in the past, I had not appreciated just how much you personally and your company had done for us – for all of Faralmark. There were others too, of course. But you are the one that seems to have stood out from the others; at least from that which I can ascertain. I am naturally aware that all traders have been hit hard but I can confidently say demand is at last growing once more, particularly for our wines.”

He paused briefly.

“Might I just swiftly return to the days before the war and ask you how you organised all the complex matters? Did you have routines and that sort of thing?”

“Your Grace, I had to have some formal routines just to cope. In general, I had two boats on the Faral, trading from here up the river to our sister land of Upper Faral, at least as far as the falls. We mostly brought down fuel wood whilst carrying up other goods, including as it happens some of our Faralmark wine.”

He paused for thought. “Let me see - we mostly had clothes, shoes, fruit, wine and a certain amount of animal fodder as our normal cargoes.

“Downriver my larger customers used to be in Lower Fanir, that was until Yod fully invaded them, and also Pakmal, mostly in Pakmal Town making use of the channels they used to keep open that allowed river traffic to reach the town centre. I assume those channels are still navigable.

“Back in the Great Valley, Upper Fanir was also a frequent stop but my captains didn’t stop there once Yod had invaded them as well. All that dropping off of trade started actually when Yod took over the entire Yodak valley, throwing out the Pakmalis from their half of that valley. At the same time, Yod took over the big Lower Fanir island. I should have heeded my gut-feel when they did that.

“But then I got a good contract to regularly ship the best Zebrin wood down to the glass factories on the starboard, that is the right, bank in Forguland; that wood being their preferred variety. The Zebrin vessels then being too small for the quantities involved. From there I was contracted to bring the empty bottles up here for our wineries to fill. I suppose that one might say greed got the better of me.

“I once again had that sinking feeling when Yod finally invaded both Fanirs and that narrow strip in Ferenis betwixt the Fer River and the valley wall. But I continued trading. Sometimes as far downvalley as Joth, and once even to Brugan.

“I suppose I was lucky when I twisted my knee and had to send the flotilla off whilst I stayed up here in bed as my wife looked after me. None of my boats nor my men have been seen since. And the fees they were supposed to bring back with them have also disappeared.”

His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“I regret, Your Grace, that my wife and I are now having to struggle, what with no boats, no cargoes and no coin. We have sold nearly all that we can. Indeed I am getting most desperate. Thank the Maker we have no children.”

The Margrave’s face fell in obvious shock. “I had no idea, Craftmaster, no idea at all. However, I suspect there might be a solution closer to hand than you have hitherto realised.”

He beckoned Yussuf to him, then led him to the large window where he gestured through the opening: “Look at that. The hillsides to the north and west covered with berry bushes; the frequent Narakh plantations; the river there flowing down from Upper Faral.”

He turned and gestured to the window in the other wall even as he led Yussuf across to it.

“Now let us look out of this window. The great loop of the Sirrel is there and the two arms either side of the strip of Zebrin over there. Here in Bibek we control the confluence of the two rivers, which has given us certain advantages in certain areas.

“Time was, those stretches of river, both Sirrel and Faral, were all but jammed with craft, plying in every direction; upstream, downstream and across from side to side. Today, just look - there is but one trading craft visible on the Sirrel.”

A swift glance at the craft, even though still several dozen ghallies away, enabled Yussuf to say: “Down from Mirdul, Your Grace.”

“Is that so? I have been waiting for that one for a day or two now. One day, you must tell me the secrets that enabled you to identify it so very swiftly.

“But to get back to my main point - all is needed to be rebuilt now. That Mirdul vessel is merely the start of one … thread, shall we call it? Maybe a strand, to put it in ropemaker’s terms?

“We and all our neighbouring countries are suffering much as you and your poor wife have done. Craft have disappeared as have funds and men. But you know that only too well. We need to re-establish safe and solid trade treaties. Those accursed Yodans have destroyed many of the traditions set down over centuries; from when we and our sister land were in fact all one, named Faral - ’tis from way back then that I receive my title which is simply the Margrave of Faral.

“Now I am tearing my hair out trying to keep abreast of all the messages and signals that are flying around as we start anew. And I need to maintain law and order here, troubles with which are increasing as the folk get more and more desperate. As you will be aware, I was away for quite some time, visiting Palarand where and when the King there, King Robanar, had much information to impart. My absence there also accounts for some of the delay in getting news back to you, as you will comprehend shortly. I can be in but one place at a time.

“First, I should give you some more background. I have been doing some investigations which led me to you. The trail, believe it or not started all the way down in Palarand. Yod, you may have heard, actually invaded Palarand itself. To do so, they first invaded Joth, but just secured the area around Joth City, which gave them a staging post much closer to Palarand than anything in their own lands. The invasion of that strip of land in Ferenis was to enable them to cover the invasion of Joth by getting troops nearer.

“All this required numerous journeys across water for their armsmen. After their defeat on Palarandi soil, their transports were left behind. As were those in Joth City – well most of them that is.

“Now I have to ask you if you have heard of a country named Einnland?”

Puzzled as to where this second apparent sidetrack was leading, Yussuf replied: “I regret, Your Grace, I have not.”

“Nor had I before I met a Princess from there who has now established herself in Palarand and sworn fealty to Robanar there. Her name is Eriana. She had sailed round the coast from Einnland and reached Palarand. In fact, she and her men were largely responsible for defeating Yod for ’twas they who imposed the first major defeat upon Yodan forces, by capturing the fortress at Boldan’s Rock and subsequently clearing Yod away from the wharf area below.

“She saw the transports that Yod had left behind and very swiftly recognised them to be well-founded and well-designed cargo craft, suitable for bulk cargoes like barrels, crates and so on. However, being new to the Great Valley, she was unable to recognise them within the context of our Valley. ’Twas only several weeks later that anyone else started wondering about them. By that time, many of them had been broken up in order to re-use the timbers.

“One thing led to another. Questions were asked. Leads investigated and discarded. Stories followed up. Until they were identified as being YOURS, your design being apparently unique on the Sirrel. Even as we speak, the surviving four vessels are being delivered upriver. They are currently being patched up in a yard in Smordan, a yard of which I know you have heard. For they built them originally according to your design, which you had commissioned due to their well-deserved superlative reputation and the length and excellence of their timbers. They shall be there refreshed at Faralmark’s expense and then returned to you and your control, unconditionally. You may expect them within a month.

“Which brings me finally to why I have invited you here. An opportunity has arisen. One I deem that would be most suitable for a man of your abilities.”

He looked piercingly at Yussuf, at first directly into his eyes before sweeping up and down his body once more. He nodded curtly, obviously to himself, apparently most pleased with what he saw.

“I am hoping that you will accept my offer of becoming Faralmark’s Trade and Transport Minister.”

A sudden silence descended, starkly tinged with a feeling of shock emanating from one side of the room.

“I repeat that your boats shall be refurbished regardless of whether or not you accept the post.”

Again a significant pause.

“But we as a nation MUST get our trade business up and running as soon as we might. I would expect that the two of us would meet every morning at a regular time, whenever both are in town. If you agree, then we shall spend the next bell now, discussing what we see needs to be done. I have mentioned already that I have far too much more on my plate to which I MUST be able to devote the appropriate amount of time, and yet we stand or fall as a nation upon our trade.”

Yussuf was totally speechless. His mind was reeling. His jaw had dropped in shock. He knew that he had a momentous decision to make, a choice that would change his life substantially.

But the choice was not really a choice at all, was it?

Still he hesitated. “Your Grace, I am honoured to be considered for this post, but I know not what it exactly involves. I am most flattered that you have selected myself as a possibility. I daresay that I could manage the contractual side, but my expertise on the transport side is really limited to waterborne craft. I know little or nothing about wagons and carts. Also, it seems to me that sooner or later Trade and Transport might have to become two separate entities for the one might create tension with the other, but I cannot say that with any degree of definition. I speak merely my very first thoughts.”

“Mere details, Craftmaster, mere details. We can appoint deputies, people like that. We can work things like that out between us. But I need someone as soon as they can start.” A brief pause. “May I then address you as Minister Yussuf?”

Yussuf stood back, turned completely round a few times, eyes tightly shut, quite obviously deep in thought. The Margrave was wise enough to remain silent, to let him think it through. The Margrave suppressed a smile as Yussuf’s hands twitched and gestured in time to some internal discussion.

Yussuf opened his eyes, faced the Margrave and unsmilingly nodded briefly. “Yes,” he replied slowly, “I deem you might, Your Grace!”

The Margrave’s face split into a huge grin. “Capital! Splendid! Now I shall issue instructions for you to have a purse of coin to take with you home when you leave this evening, to allay some immediate problems for you. I cannot have my Ministers distracted by easily soluble domestic problems.”

He launched himself with renewed vigour into further details: “We have already cleared a room as an office on the floor below, one which also has views in both directions. Let us repair there forthwith. There you can meet your assistant who can help you settle in. His name is Lim. He is recently made a Master, both in the Scribing and the Administrating branches. His employment he knows is currently merely temporary. You can hire him permanently if you find you can work together. As regards your duties, then first we must discuss how we are to set and then achieve our targets and then I must tell you more about the Princess Eriana, her role in the future of something called the Confederation and also about something called railroads...”

*** *** ***

“So what did he want?”

“We first discussed matters about getting some of our boats returned to us. They have been, at long last, eventually traced. They are currently being repaired after hard use by the Yodans. They shall be delivered here within the month, after being repaired at Faralmark’s expense.”

“What? I can scarce believe it. How many of them have been found? And what of the men who disappeared with them?” Her face fell from the smile that had previously appeared. “But how are we to survive for another month and more until the boats start earning? How will we get contracts for them? And how shall we survive just this week?”

“Four of the boats have been traced to us. And as for contracts then we can apply to the Minister for Trade and Transport,” he replied with a grin.

Which went completely unnoticed.

“Only four of our boats, can you not demand we get the rest?”

“As for surviving, the Margrave has employed me in a job and has given me an advance. We shall be alright. In fact ...” he hefted the purse into his other hand.

But that was all mostly ignored. Yussuf almost grinned when it was obvious she just had not seen their sudden influx of ready cash.

“Good then, we can survive for some little while. Now you have some temporary employment you must have the Margrave’s ear. Well then, you shall be able to demand we get the other boats back.”

“Dab, my dear, it won’t work like that ...”

“Oh Maker! Why are you always so negative?”

“Dab, will you listen to me please, while I tell you more details of what happened this morning?”

“There you go again, getting all huffy. Just concentrate, dear, on getting our boats back. That will be your priority from now on.”

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