Julina gets the first two surprises she mentioned, amongst a series of little 'parties'.

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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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“Milady! This is a most welcome surprise! Children, bow or curtsey to the Countess, please. And to Master Horbelan.”

I had mentioned that I had a few surprises a week or so afterwards, and this was the first of them.

I supervised the kids even as my eyes were asking the Countess a myriad of questions. In reply, her eyes told me that 'twould be fun, so I relaxed slightly. Master Horbelan had brought with him a small version of a dajan, which we called a 'biddle'. This was designed for younger ones to use while their hands were still growing, they being really a little too small for an adult's instrument, but Master H managed with just a little difficulty. The tunes were naturally kept simple for the young ones to enjoy.

Oh, and the plucking of the strings was with a thing they called a 'bow' rather than with fingers.

Milady's maid, Tandra, stood to one side as well, after laying down a carry bag on an empty surface.

“Now children, I am here today because of what happened a week ago. When I came in then, you said you enjoyed being here because you had fun whilst learning and enjoyed dancing. So Master Horbelan and I are here today to teach you a new, fun dance. We have named the dance 'Hey Diddle Diddle' and I shall explain how we do it as soon as Mistress Julina and we three other adults have cleared a little space; we shall do so by moving these three tables over there to join those other tables there. And we shall need one of those tall stools over there as the central point round which to dance. Now one of you, you, the boy there in the green shirt, come and take Master Horbelan's biddle and hold it carefully whilst we move the furniture around.”

We four adults quickly rearranged the furniture as Countess Merizel instructed and the children gathered round the now-central stool with a light of anticipation in their eyes. When all was ready, she asked most formally for my permission to take over her class, and I granted her such permission equally formally – a good lesson there for the children already!

But the first words were in fact spoken by Master Horbelan: “And, young sir, if I might have my instrument back? I thank you most sincerely for protecting it so well.” The lad handed the instrument back to the Musicmaster who tucked a corner under his chin, and ran the strings of the bow across the strings of the biddle; just testing of course.

“Now then, I have counted ...”said the Countess brightly “... that we have an even number. So we can make an exact numbers of pairs. Choose a 'partner' and, with the shorter one of the pair on the side nearest the stool in the middle, all of you make a circle round it. That's good. Now I want you two pairs to turn round so that everyone is facing the same way round the circle – there you go!

“What we will do is dance together round the stool in a circle during the repetition part of our song. Then I shall call out one of you by singing a description like 'the girl with a red hat' and there shall be added instructions in the sing. You will need to pay attention to my words and use your minds quickly because we want to do things in the timing suggested by the music. You will soon get the hang of it. So are we ready?”

“Yes, Milady!” they all dutifully replied – in unison.

“We be at hand, children, with bow and biddle;
We shall play a new dance called hey-diddle-diddle.
Our silver laughter shall reach to the moon
And shine there like a freshly cleaned spoon.”

They all giggled at her words and then she added: “Those are the words I shall sing in each gap between instructions. This is why we call that the 'repetition'. And I shall sing them twice, so we all have time to regain our places. Then I shall sing something like this, but with the music.”

She signalled to Master Horbelan, who put the biddle under his chin and started stroking the strings with the bow.

♯ ♬ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♪ ♩ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♬

“Hey diddle diddle
There's a GIRL in the middle.
The one with the dress of yellow.
One two three
She slaps her knee
And then returns to her fellow.”

A hand signal stopped the playing and she turned back to the children.

“So when I sing there's a girl, or a boy, in the middle, the child I point to shall come to the stool and there do the actions that I sing. In this case, the girl would slap her knee and then skip back to her partner in the outer ring. Do you all understand?”

They all chorused: “Yes, Milady!”

“And try to put one foot down on the floor at the right beat of the music. You'll soon get the hang of it, but don't worry too much if you make a mistake at first. Everyone does when they learn something new. So let us begin.”

She nodded to Master Horbelan.

♯ ♬ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♪ ♩ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♬

“We be at hand, children, with bow and biddle;
We shall play a new dance called hey-diddle-diddle.
Our silver laughter shall reach to the moon
And shine there like a freshly cleaned spoon.”

She waved her hands urgently to get the circle dancing around the stool. They soon picked up her message!

“We be at hand, children, with bow and biddle;
We shall play a new dance called hey-diddle-diddle.
Our silver laughter shall reach to the moon
And shine there like a freshly cleaned spoon.

“Hey diddle diddle
There's a BOY in the middle.
The one with the cap of red.
Four five six
He points to the sticks
Over there and made of bread.

“We be at hand, children, with bow and biddle;
We shall play a new dance called hey-diddle-diddle.
Our silver laughter shall reach to the moon
And shine there like a freshly cleaned spoon.

...”

… … …

I was exhausted at the end of the lesson but the children were all laughing and singing, delight writ large upon their little faces. They absolutely loved it and all adored the Countess unashamedly. Tandra too had visibly enjoyed it and Master Horbelan was beaming with pride and delight.

All too quickly everyone left, but not before I discovered that each and every one of the children could now count up to twelve, even if some of them had to sing to do so!

I was glad that my Call was over as the strenuous exercise we had had would have been most uncomfortable otherwise.

This had been the first of what we later called the 'Lesson Parties' and Milady performed so wonderfully on the same morning each week from then on until they departed, so she did five in all.

After that first lesson party, and after returning the Salon to its normal arrangement of furniture, I popped into the kitchens to say that I was going to go home to have a quick shower and to change my clothing. Paivi and Venket were just about to leave to go over to the 'Tree' and I smiled as I heard them humming the catchy little 'Hey Diddle Diddle' tune.

It was as I was descending East Street on my way home that the next surprise came. All the wagons descending East Street, not that there were many at that time of day, had been halted behind the Claw, leaving an empty road from there down to behind Blandel's, the Stonemason's, where the southernmost and most wiggly-waggly connecting road down from the Dam Road joined to East Street, before that in turn joined to the Forest Road.

Further down East Street, I could see a single wagon going against the normal direction of East Street, that is going uphill, and turning into the connecting road, which was called for some reason 'The Cut'. This wagon had two drivers, was surrounded at each corner by four mounted soldiers, soldiers who were visibly weary, and the drivers too looked strained, even from the distance I was away. I scampered across the Claw's Paddock to the south-east corner to get as close as I could.

Looking uphill, I could see that there were two other groups of soldiers holding up traffic on the Dam Road, one group by the Community Hall, another a hand of casts towards the Dam from the junction with the Cut. It became obvious to me that this wagon was being given a clear area all around it of about a hundred or so strides. I saw the two Princes observing from the topmost balcony of the Community Hall.

And then I noticed that Jafferkin Park had been marked off to surround the Community Hall and just by its freshly marked southernmost edge, a new track had been laid using the Michen Method leading to an isolated new hut built half way from the road to the aqueduct.

I watched as the single wagon laboriously climbed up The Cut and reached the Dam Road, where it headed originally towards the Community Hall, but only for a relatively brief distance. Indeed, as I suspected, it turned into this new lane and headed for the new hut.

Now this hut was strange as it had walls, but incomplete walls, and the roof was perched on poles such that there was a clear gap between the top of the walls and the underside of the roof.

I realised suddenly that I had spent far too much time gawping and ran swiftly home to have my shower and change of attire, all the while wondering what that activity I had observed actually meant. I was sure that the four newly arrived, and yet strained, mounted soldiers were wearing Palace colours.

As I showered, I spent much time thinking up schemes for finding out more.

The shower was most welcome, and the fresh clothing.

But I still had a burning desire to solve the mystery of the lonely wagon, and the lonely hut. I plotted and planned, even as I was returning to the Salon for my day's work there.

And had to laugh when I entered.

“... never go near it! Ah! Julina, just in time. I have come in to warn you all about a newly-arrived wagon,” said Em. “This wagon needs to be parked away from anywhere, and a sort of hut has been built for it four casts or so away from the Community Hall, between that and the Dam Road where it heads into the narrowed mouth of the Vale. If anyone gets near to it with a lamp or flame, then a disaster shall occur; a disaster of such magnitude that no-one here can possibly imagine. The Steward is calling everyone, and I really mean everyone, to a demonstration tomorrow morn up at where the new barracks are to be. No-one shall be working at the half after the third bell.”

“What on Anmar could a single wagon do to cause such a disaster?”

“I must leave it to the demonstration tomorrow, for I too was astounded when I first observed this effect down in Palarand City – this demonstration shall be slightly different to that which I saw, but nevertheless shall be impressive. The Steward and the Commander however are adamant that everyone must see so they understand why the load shall be under permanent guard.

“In the meantime, we must all make sure that no adventurous little boys go near that wagon. That message must get out rapidly. The wagon as I said is guarded by soldiers at all times and anyone caught trying to sneak up on it will be treated as a traitor!

“Yes, the matter is deemed to be that serious!

“On another side, the Commander has sent the four guards that arrived with it and the two drivers here for a meal tonight to thank them for their arduous duty in bringing the wagon here all the way from Palarand City itself. Why that wagon had its own ferry boat across the Sirrel and no other wagon has been allowed close to it in all its journey! The poor drivers and soldiers have had to exist on cold rations for the week or so it has taken them to get here, for there MUST be no chance of any flame or ember getting anywhere near it.”

We all gasped at the message Em was so intensely conveying.

I turned to my lad. “Surtree, hand over whatever it is you are doing to Kords and then I want you to find as many urchins as you can and tell them to spread the news. We need to make sure that no-one approaches that mystery wagon. I'm sure that the Steward shall have a demonstration that shall convince us, but until then, we must be our most careful.”

I turned to all the others who were staring at Em open-mouthed.

“Right you lot. If any of you have younger brothers, then go now and warn them. Come along! Wake up! Get moving. You heard Mistress Michet – the word must be spread as rapidly as possible. Hurry away – and hurry back.

“Kords, you deal with 'Kin and Kord, I will continue here. I'll take over Surtree's tasks. Maker! Are you all deaf? Go!”

It was only then that I realised not many of them had younger brothers! We all laughed, but inwardly I felt really stupid. It was suddenly very hot here in the kitchen, for I felt my cheeks burning.

… … …

You would be right in thinking that my mind was a bit scattered that day – I had something heavy on it, my mind that is, and hadn't yet found a solution to it. It was an ever growing worry in there, even if I tried hard to suppress it. Or to think of other things, or busy myself.

It just wouldn't go away.

… … …

I went out shortly afterwards since I wanted to check how the Hawbrier bushes were doing, because very soon it would be nice to have some fresh and tangy fruit to serve and I knew 'twas coming up to time for the Hawbriers to start pushing out their lovely sweet and tangy blue and purply produce.

As it happened, my little excursion proved to be valuable in not just one way, but several.

Surtree had just scampered back from his previous mission so I decided he could accompany me. After a quick visit for each of us to use the facilities, we stepped out onto Main Street. We were both taken aback a little by no less than four working places where Main Street had been dug up. Each work site was about a cast down the slope from the one above it. Having seen the works over by the Tree and in the Artisans' Area we both immediately recognised that enough room had been left for wagons to pass on one side of the street, the uphill side, while work was being done under ground level on the other side.

By each work site, there was a little pile of what looked like concrete pipes, smaller around than my forearm, and painted a bright colour at each end – there was a red, a green, a blue, a yellow, a white and also a dull brown and a dull black one. And another with unpainted ends that was considerably larger in diameter.

Surtree and I immediately wandered up to the site nearest us and peered down at the men working there.

“Good morrow! Might I enquire what's happening here,” I asked politely.

The leading man was glad of an excuse for a little break; I could tell by the way he leaned on his shovel handle as he straightened up with a grunt of relief.

“Well, Mistress, like. It's sorta complicated. We are making these tubey thingies so that stuff can cross the road but not be damaged by wagons. The big tube here will reach just beyond the half-way point, like, and stick out nearly a stride at the side here. The littler tubes will be pushed through the big tube. Then we'll close up the road this side and open it up on t'other. The same will happen then over there, but we will attach that side's green tube, to this side's one, and the red and so on, sealing them together. Then we will hammer the big tube into its final place and seal that. And then put the road back so it can be used.”

“Thank you for that explanation. It was most clear. Except for one thing. Why?”

“Ah! Young Mistress Senidet - she's a Guildswoman would you believe? - says it's to do with sumpfing called 'Lectrix'. Some fancy idea what she brought up from the capital itself. When she has done her bit 'ere like, then the ends of these tubes are going to be concreted in and made weather proof. Probably have more of these tube thingies connecting up the ends of the under-road ones, up and down under the footwalk boards. All has to be sealed tight like 'cos Lectrix don't like water or sumpfing like that. Oh yes, and each tube, little ones and big 'un is to have a length or two of twine through it, so that in the future whatever's needed can be simple pulled through from one side to the other.”

My major surprise, though, had been that it seemed to me that Senidet was the one in charge, not only of the project, but also of the workers. She waved to us from where she was a few casts upslope and would have come down to talk to us had not one of the workers called to her to ask her something. She shrugged and hunched her shoulders at us, so we waved again and passed on.

I made a mental note to tackle Senidet later for more information so I only bid the man a farewell after a few more quick questions, like how long it would take and so on. Surtree too asked a few relevant questions and we both got a sort of grudging respect from all the men working there.

Surtree and I thanked the foreman once again and set off once more towards the Hawbriers. I wanted Surtree to have just a few moments learning something new for we would surely just take the two hands or so of moments to get to the bushes. I would point out this and that, check the bud growth, and then we would get back to the Salon. Half a bell at the outside, surely?

Now, where we were going obviously wasn't the only patch of Hawbriers in Town but these were the best, more luscious and fatter I deem than most of the others to be found about. They grew just on the west meadow side of the water margins around the various places where the Bray bubbled out from the hillside. Some were scattered in isolated locations, but there was a particular large group of bushes at a particular spot that produced the finest fruit.

And there was a particular consideration, a particular convention if you like, that all who picked from the centre of this group of bushes followed. This was what I wanted Surtree to know about and why I had dragged him along with me. There wouldn't be anything to actually pick just yet, so access to the centre would be a little easier and he could learn the basics a little easier.

But before I get onto that, I need to mention another long-term resident of Blackstone.

His name is Vastan. I must first put up my hand and confess something. We girls, when younger of course, use to laugh about him behind his back – often, and not quite so quietly. He is about a hand and a half more of years than I, and 'twas only about three or so years ago that I first ever really spoke with him; a conversation that still haunts me for I discovered just then his rather sad story, and felt so guilty about our earlier lack of tolerance.

Vastan is a highly intelligent man, in fact he is so intelligent that he found at that time most of his mundane life to be extremely boring. He would find things to do that make his tasks more difficult, just to inject some more 'interest' into doing them. The patterns he makes when asked to cut the grasses in a meadow or paddock are a wonder to behold and he does that all in his head as he works. It involves flattening the grasses in a particular way that the surface takes on slightly different hues, thus creating giant pictures to an eye many strides away.

From a young child he always wanted to be a soldier, and he had never wavered in that desire.

But the soldiery would not have him.

From birth, his eyes have been defective. He can only see things close to him.

Which makes his meadow pictures all the more remarkable. For he himself cannot see the final effects.

Yes, he can see Kalikan in the sky on a night when it shines brightly, but he has only been told about the other two moons, he has never been able to see them. And his view of Kalikan is just as a brightish blob in contrast to its surroundings. He can 'see' indistinct blobs as people or beasts farther away than a hand of strides, and buildings are large enough to form more blobs to him but details only come into his mind when they are within that hand of strides perimeter.

We, as girls, did not know this of course, and thought it funny to laugh at him groping his way about town. Some of the boys were crueller, and tried to arrange things so that he would stumble on or over obstacles they placed in his path.

I was however very glad to see him during the day when Surtree and I went to inspect the Hawbriers as you shall see for yourselves. As it happened, I was to learn more of his character far sooner than I had ever expected.

But it all started when we two heard a commotion ahead of us as we made our way through and past some jumbled rocks, bushes and other vegetation, following a well-trodden winding path.

“No, no. You cannot dig them up! I shall not let you.”

I gasped in surprise as I heard Vastan's panicked voice. Surtree and I looked at each other and scurried forward to get a better view and better understanding.

There, on the far side of the first Briers, we saw a group of workers taunting and teasing poor Vastan, having learnt quickly, or maybe already knowing, of his disabilities. They were all bearing shovels, and picks and the like. Upslope, a wagon, carefully drawn up on the solid ground rather than the watery, boggy ground near the tiny stream, was laden with more of the concrete pipes we had recently seen over at Main Street – the larger ones.

“What's going on here?” I shouted as I dashed forward. Standing in front of the clump of some hand of hands of briers stood Vastan, one arm stretched wide. He was faced by a group of four labourers, two of whom seemed a little uncomfortable though. It seemed he was protecting the briers from the group of men.

“Mistress Julina! Thank the Maker! They might listen more to you. And whoever is come along with you.”

It seemed to me that Vastan's lack of abilities with his eyes had made his other senses somehow more acute for I was frequently taken by surprise at his ability to identify someone by their voice or even by their footfall.

But I was extremely angry at the sight of blood trickling down the back of Vastan's head, from under his right hand as he held it over the wound. Obviously, he had suffered from some form of attack and the anger made me change in some surprising way.

Maybe it heightened MY senses, for the air seemed clearer somehow, the light more sharp and defined, I swear I could hear each of the men breathing as well as the munch as the dranakh attached to the wagon tore up some of the forage from the ground. Something about the dranakh flickered in yet another corner of my mind.

I can still to this day see so clearly in my mind the colour of the men's teeth and tunic shirts. I seemed to smell the rank underarm and stale body sweat on them at the same time as the individual aromas from the several flowers and plants growing thereabouts. That mixture stills resonates in my memory even now.

The shock of having this heightened awareness, just moments after thinking of Vastan's, almost knocked me down in surprise and I actually felt it all waver and begin to fade, but the slow drip of blood oozing from the poor man's wound rekindled my ire, and the feelings flooded back again.

As if from a distance, I heard my own voice say: “Why did you attack this man? What is the task you have been given? Who gave you your orders?”

Even as I was saying this, I was aware that the wagon driver was returning from behind a bush, his hands readjusting his clothing at crutch level. My brain took in his features and then, seemingly without movement, I was studying the dranakh.

“Why should that be relevant to a mere girl? Who are you to order me about?” one man said surlily.

I was grateful for the surly response, because now I knew who was the chargehand of this gang of labourers.

I turned directly to him and lied, but only lied really by implication, with a false smile pasted into my cheeks: “It seems to me that Goodman Vastan here is protecting my Hawbrier bushes. I wish merely to establish just what ...”

“I don't need to tell you nuffink,” came the equally surly response.

I redirected my attention once more, this time putting a little steel into my voice: “Goodman Rabeez, would you and dear Hedda please return your load to where you found it. Blackstone Wagons has decided to refuse this commission. Please inform Goodman Kulyer that I shall arrange some sort of compensation.”

“Aye, aye, Mistress!”

“Hold hard, driver. You have a contract with us, you can't just leave.”

“Indeed I can, Goodman Wexen– I have just had a direct order from the owner of my company. One that you heard as right as everyone else.”

“The owner …? That slip of a girl? You're surely joking?”

“Indeed not. This is Mistress ...” he emphasised the 'Mistress' “... Julina, who is of some relevance and importance in this town. I would advise you, and you should take this as the best advice you shall have this day, to answer her questions and swiftly. Oh, and answer them politely would be my next piece of advice!”

“It is no business of hers what we do. My boss gave me my orders and hers is not to question them. I shall do my job as told me and that's an end to it.”

I raised my voice again and employed the sweetest and most reasonable tones I could muster: “Goodman Rabeez, you have your new orders. Please obey them now. This man is obviously not for turning from his misguided course. Surtree, would you please run and fetch Master Rindal, or Master Bezan. If neither are available, then please inform the Steward that he might delegate someone to come here. As quick as you may, thank you. I deem Mistresses Sukhana and Mousa will also be interested and will want to come or send someone. Mistress Michet would also be an advantage. Inform them all that this man Wexen wishes to dig up our best Hawbrier bushes.”

I turned back to the man and looked him slowly up and down, before speaking equally slowly to him once more: “Using what knowledge I have from Master Bezan and the Steward, I deem that your task is to lay a further concrete pipe from up there, where the housing is expanding, down to the stink pools ...” his eyes widened in surprise and I knew my guess had hit home “... due to the ever-increasing need to remove waste from the housing areas. You would be better advised to use the east bank of this stream rather than the west one. And that way, our venerable and almost venerated Hawbriers shall remain undisturbed.”

“I has me orders, and we shall do them. Come lads, let's rip those damned bushes out.”

Steel inserted itself into my tone: “If one leaf on that bush, one branch, one thorn, one root is harmed, I shall make sure that you never work in this town again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Pah! Lads, she's just bluffing. Let's get on with it.”

“I don't think she is, Wexen. That driver was quick to obey her. And I don't hold with hitting women, like. The simpleton there was a different matter, he must be used to being struck – but I don't hit no woman, never.”

“Come, there are four of us. She will soon be moved.”

“Three, Wexen! And I shall join them to resist you. I told you not to beat the poor man there, and I shall now defend him physically rather than just verbally. And them bushes too.”

Wexen swung round and stared at the one of the men, the one who had just spoken up; one I vaguely recognised from somewhere. He was the man who had looked the most uncomfortable throughout all this.

“Why? You heard our orders. And I'm in charge and gave you orders to do something. So do it. Like now!”

“This is indeed Mistress Julina. She also teaches people to read and write. She taught me in one of my many and indeed still ongoing lessons and she teaches my nipper, who loves her almost more than his mum. She had the Countess herself join their lesson last week. She makes all their lessons such fun.

“She is friends, make note Wexen, with the Countess and she has the ear of the Prince and the Steward. You have tried to bully the wrong person this time. She surely will fulfil her threat to have you thrown out of town. I bain't be touching neither her nor her bushes. And I will defend them against you and anyone else what tries to touch her or them. Or that man there. If Mistress Julina says them bushes are important, then they are indeed important.”

Another man piped up: “I ain't goin' agin 'im. Nor 'er.”

And so we had a tense, but now much calmer situation.

The two men who had gone against Wexen started digging a trench where I had suggested. Wexen and his one remaining companion stood sullenly where they were. Vastan and I stood defiantly before the bushes.

We stayed like that for what seemed a bell or more, but must actually have been somewhat less. Wexen continued to bluster, but Vastan and I, albeit keeping a wary eye upon him, ignored him and his companion. Eventually he subsided into silence, as did everybody there gathered. Except for the scrape of the shovel and the thwack of the pick.

“So what happens here?” a male voice finally called out. A sigh enabled me to release some of the tension in my body.

I had for a little while observed the man approaching on frayen back, closely followed by Surtree who was also mounted (with a nervous but determined look upon his face). But it was only as the pair neared that I realised that the beast was none other than my Trumpa. What a sensible lad that Surtree was!

“Master Rindal, good morrow,” I began.

“Mistress Julina, a good morrow to you in return.” His eyes were scanning the scene though, even as he uttered the pleasantries.

“May I present here on my left Goodman Vastan, an honest and hardworking fellow who suffers from poor eyesight, but NOT from a poor brain. Over there is Goodman Wexen, a chargehand leading these labourers who have been commissioned to dig a deep trench in which to lay a pipe designed to carry waste down from the expanding living accommodation to the stink pits downslope. Two of his team have taken up my suggestion of digging such trench on the east bank of the rivulet here, but Chargehand Wexen has decided to dig it down the west bank, and refuses to give up his idea about the best side. I did point out that ultimately the east bank would be less work for him, but he refuses to budge.”

“Thank you. However, I assume that is not the real problem, for else you would not have summoned me so particularly. I deem it is something to do with these briers?”

“Indeed, Master. The problem here is this large clump of bushes. For years immemorial, they have provided our community with the very best of fruits from all the Hawbriers this side of the forest edge. But the Chargehand has decided that he shall rip them up to lay his wretched trench and pipework. I refuse to allow a valuable food source to be lost to us all when there are viable alternatives that exist, alternatives that do not threaten the bushes. I came here to make a brief inspection that I might have an idea of when the fruit might be ready, and incidentally I deem that we have another three or four weeks. When I arrived, I found that these four men, but these two in particular, had bullied and indeed struck poor Vastan here. Despite my need to be elsewhere, I deemed it necessary to remain and send my lad Surtree for help. Until my arrival Vastan had valiantly defended the bushes alone.”

“Now I understand. Thank you.” He turned his gaze. “You, Wexen wasn't it? Is what the Mistress has just explained true?”

I gasped in shock!

Never had my word been doubted before. I was about to explode angrily when Vastan gripped my arm most forcibly and shook his head at me, hissing in my ear: “Let Wexen be shown to be a liar, if he does lie that is. His is the dilemna now, not yours. Keep calm and carry on!”

I forced myself to look at Wexen and saw that indeed Vastan was right. The urge to lie to justify himself was warring with the unknown consequences of being caught in a lie; all this was clearly written upon his very open face.

Which fact was immediately obvious to Master Rindal too, for he said with perfect timing: “The truth now man, you will certainly regret any lie.”

A heartbeat or two passed, but then, finally, Wexen's shoulders slumped, and he confirmed what I said.

“Now,” continued Master Rindal, “who told you to drive your works down the west bank?”

“No-one,” he replied, sullenly. “The ground is just easier for us, as any fool can see.”

Rindal's face frowned at the implications of that remark. I admired the way in which he didn't react angrily, instead brushing aside what could have been construed as rude criticism of either him or me or both: “Ah! And you have based your observations upon what exactly? Surely you have scouted further downstream first? Before making such an important decision? I deem you did not do so! For had you indeed done so, you would have found that the Mistress' suggestion is indeed far better for you at the lower end of where the pipe must run. Let this be a lesson to you, examine the whole task first before deciding to make a start!”

“With respect, Master. I don't know who you are, and I was told to start here. By my supervisor.”

“But you have already admitted that the start point was not specified as to which side of the stream. So your continued determination to do so on the west side is founded merely upon your desire not to be shown to have chosen unwisely, rather than founded upon facts. Many men who have been stopped from doing something calamitous have actually thanked the person, but you for some reason resent the fact that information has arisen to suggest an alternative. An attitude that now needs to be reported to your supervisors.”

He gestured meaningfully to the other two men but kept his gaze upon Wexen: “Make a start there, where your two men have started scratching already. If your supervisor has any objections, then direct him to myself or Master Bezan, for I shall report all this to him as well. My name is Rindal, and 'tis my task to ensure that the ever-increasing population of this town is adequately fed. I cannot allow you to just rip away anything that can provide us all with a balanced diet. These bushes and briers are a valuable food source that must be preserved.”

He stopped there and was about to turn to me once more, when another thought hit him. He turned back to Wexen: “I assume you DO know who Master Bezan is?”

“Actually, Master, I have never seen him. I do know OF him, of course.”

“What about Master Simman?”

“Oh I know HIM, Master. I worked under him on the Community Hall.”

Rindal laughed. “Then I shall inform him too. By the way, were you aware that Mistress Julina here designed much of the Community Hall? She and her close friend Mistress Gythy? Indeed, those two are in a group that holds an Exclusivity Licence on some of the parts. You would do well to heed her voice and her suggestions in future. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Master!” came the reply, a complicated mixture of wonderment and resentment that none of us had heard before. We fought back smiles.

“Right, then – you carry on, on THIS side. And if you come across any other bushes, make sure they are checked out before you rip them up, is that clear? Don't dig within a stride of it, lest you damage the roots.”

“Aye, sir!” was the begrudging reply.

“Now, Mistress Julina and Goodman Vastan, let me examine closely these bushes of yours.”

The three of us went over to the first of the bushes, the upslope one. Vastan, Surtree and I remained silent as the man entered eagerly into his realm of expert knowledge.

A hand of moments passed.

“This is indeed a fine specimen of a Hawbrier. At first, the leaves looked a little strange to me, they are ever so slightly more rounded than I had expected. But I deem you are right. You shall have fruit within the month. There is a vitality about this bush though that I find difficult to explain. Only last week, I was inspecting the growth around your Fish Farm, and there were some hawbriers there. These are ever so slightly different somehow. 'Tis slightly puzzling. Mayhap 'tis the increased altitude, but I would not have deemed 'tis so very different. A cast or so, I would have thought.”

“I know the bushes you mean. The fruit there is good, but not as good as these. These are known to all us long-time residents as the very best of bests. Why their fruit tends towards the purple rather than the blue of those downva...”

I broke off as Rindal gave a little cry. A sort of shocked gasp, it was.

“Purple-hued, you say?” His voice contained a sudden urgency.

Vastan and I looked at each other and nodded. Vastan indicated that I should answer.

“Indeed so Master, less so on the outer bushes, but more and more so as you get nearer the centre of this clump. There is one in there that is so dark a purple that anyone would believe 'twas made from the midnight sky itself.”

“Maker!” he barely breathed. “You don't have just Hawbriers here! You have a Haw King! No wonder the leaves are slightly different. Show me! I have heard of such a thing, but never seen one. There are none reported in any of the countries in the Great Valley this side of Yod. Oh by all that I have ever held dear, I have made a major discovery, with your help, the two of you! I am a Questor of the Natural Sciences, but this must be my greatest ever find.”

He raised his voice loudly. “This is now a protected species site. It is to be enjoyed that that oaf wasn't allowed to rip this all up. This is the only sighting of an extremely rare plant in the whole of Palarand, indeed in the whole of the Great Valley. I shall have to get Simman to wall this area off, make a proper growing garden for this. And an inspection area for the Questors from far and wide to be able to come and see.”

He turned back to us.

“Show me! Show me the central one. I deem that its roots have encountered the roots of the others and thus conveyed a purpleness to the surrounding bushes as well as a slight leaf modification. It shall probably be more of an effect the closer we go. But be careful not to damage too much as we head towards the centre ...”

I led the way, for I was the one amongst us who had most often visited the site, to pick the fruit each year. Unbidden, unwritten, untold, all we berry and fruit hunters had managed to ensure that we didn't strip the bush in the middle. We had always left some growing buds for others to find. And for the bush to keep for itself.

Once he had seen it, I sent Surtree back to Trumpa that he might ride back to the Salon and tell them I was delayed (as if they hadn't worked that out already) and would be another bell or two. I gave him some other instructions too and finally told him to pitch in to help where he could in the Kitchens, not to come back here.

Vastan and I then had a fascinating bell of instruction from someone who demonstrated easily he was indeed a Master in his field. By and by, we retreated carefully to the outside of the clump; by then we were chatting with each other freely.

“Vastan, how come you were here at the right time?” asked our Teacher, for he had indeed taught us much that day.

His face flushed slightly as he considered his reply, but in the end he decided to be fully open. “You may not be aware that most people think of me as a simpleton, just because I do not see well. I do not believe that I am so much of a simpleton as they deem. ...”

“Indeed not, Vastan, for the questions you have asked of me today show a lively and intelligent mind! A mind that needs be put to work for it is surely being wasted dreadfully at present.”

I nodded my agreement with the older man's words, even as I waved my hand to get Vastan back to explaining. His embarrassment made him stutter slightly as he continued: “N... N... Nev... Nevertheless, I have no real friends. Every so often, it all catches up with me, and, on the nights when Kalikan is at its brightest, I take a bottle of wine and go to drink it amongst the flowers and the bushes of the water margin.

“We are always three, counting myself, my shadow and my oh so distant friend, the shimmering moon. Luckily that moon knows nothing of drinking, and, as for my shadow, why, he is never thirsty! We have a most agreeable party, the three of us; when I sing, the moon listens to me in silence. When I dance, my shadow dances along with me too.

“Now you will know that after all festivities, parties and gatherings, the guests must depart. This sadness I never know because when I go home, then the moon goes with me and also my shadow follows me.

“So I had a little party here last night, and I dropped my neckscarf. I returned today to find it and had only just done so when those men came along.”

I was crying by the time he was finished, but was sniffing back the tears. I half suspected that Rindal was also emotionally upset. His voice was a bit wavery as he asked: “Goodman Vastan, what exactly do you do?”

“A little of this and a little of that, Master. I usually keep the grasses down in the summer, and deliver coal to houses in the winter. Other menial tasks here and there. I make enough to feed myself most days.”

“And enough for your occasional bottles of wine, I deem,” said the Questor with a glint in his eye and a smile on his lips.

“Vastan, I will leave instructions that you may have a bottle of wine from the Salon, but just the one each month! As a reward for your bravery today!”

By that time, we had got back to where the working gang were digging. They were within earshot. Wexen was quick to lean on his implement as he said, a little sourly: “You have influence at the Salon, too?”

Rindal and Vastan both glared at him, Rindal coughing meaningfully. Wexen looked puzzled for a moment. Maybe one of my two companions mouthed the word, but if so I saw it not.

“Er ... Mistress!” Wexen added hastily and with some distaste.

“You could say that, Goodman.”

“I've heard that 'tis good there. My missus keeps nagging me that we should save our coin and have a special evening there.”

“Well don't bother to try to get in when I'm on duty. I shall refuse you entrance. Your behaviour today has been unacceptable. Maybe you should try to explain that to your wife!”

Vastan and Rindal both burst out in laughter while Wexen stood with his mouth hanging open.

By that time, I was in need of some relief, and would have done nearly anything for a mug of pel. I thought rapidly, and realised that the nearest spot to us would be Waxerwet's home.

Bing!

Another thought had shot through my head. You may remember I had this ongoing problem in the back of my head, a heavy problem, one that wouldn't go away? Well that other thought had just jogged a glorious solution to that problem.

I was singing as I skipped downslope to Gyth's and her mother's house, encouraging the other two to come with me.

When we got there, I ran to the outhouse after ushering the two men into the family room. When I got back, I found they had obeyed my 'suggestion' and had thrown open the windows to air the place, one had set a fire in the small oven, and so we sat down to chat as things got ready. I soon leapt up though as I did some of the housework even as we were talking. Soon there was a pot of pel on the table.

I explained that Gyth and her mother were far downvalley on a project for me, and that I had been charged with keeping the place tidy for their return.

All the while I was humming and singing to myself and bouncing around with excitement. When asked why, I simply replied: “I have just found a solution to a problem that had been weighing me down.” I dare say I may have blushed slightly as I said it and the men changed the subject somewhat abruptly.

In the next bell of interesting and sometimes deep chatting, I do believe that both men became impressed with my own intellect, but 'twas certainly that of Vastan that came to the fore. So much so that Rindal offered him there and then an apprenticeship, and he accepted, tears running down his face. At last, he was recognised as being someone of worth. In that respect he reminded me somewhat of poor Venket.

Then, after a few more twists in the conversation, Vastan asked me about the Exclusivity Licence, which I answered to both their surprises as I listed all the ones that I had. Then the discussion broadened into how exactly they work.

At the end of which, Vastan summed it all up quite well: “The basic idea is registered centrally as being yours. Anyone who makes the item you thought of then has to pay you a sum for each item they sell. Say one twentieth of the selling price. This usually lasts for two or four years, for by that time others will have learnt how to make it themselves, maybe in a neighbouring country. Take forks for example, Her Highness has the Exclusivity Licence on those. Every single fork manufactured and sold ends with her receiving some coin. Which is one reason she is so rich a Princess now. Some things, however, have a permanently running Exclusivity Licence. And some of THOSE are open ones.”

This had been fascinating to him in our discussions. Even Master Rindal learnt something then.

“They are where your name is on the Exclusivity Licence but you have declared that anyone can make them as and when they want. You will receive no coin from them, but you prevent anyone else claiming it for their own. That way, no-one can cheat you of any dues you might be otherwise owed.”

“I doubt I could have put it any better! An excellent summation, Vastan.”

Soon after that, the men departed. I sent them off towards Master Jepp, to get the legal side of things tied up for Vastan's future employment. I finished my maintenance duties around the house, and then did a little extra work for myself. Work that was allied with that problem solved thing.

… … …

“Good evening, Ted!”

“Julina! Excuse me! What can I do for you, Mistress?”

“I was wondering if you happened to know where I might find that Djork fellow, the Einnlander? I must give him something this evening.”

“He has just finished his duty and will be eating in the mess hall. Tomorrow we have a huge exercise they are bynaming the 'Hunter Games' so we are all charged with getting a good night.”

“The Hunter Games?”

“Yes, Mistress Michet's hunters, and some of the recruits, are going to try to attack a strong squad of our experienced guards up in the folds of the Vale. They have the local knowledge, the guards have the experience. It should be a good match of abilities. The exercise is scheduled for three days, and we will nearly all be away from the town during that time.”

“So he only has tonight free, really?”

“Indeed so!”

“I had better send an urchin to find him then, as I deem this needs to be done as soon as possible.”

“May the message wait a half bell?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then I shall take your message for you. I have to go up there when my duty finishes to deliver another message, so 'twould be no bother. What shall I tell him?”

“Could he meet me at the back door to the Salon at the second night Bell please? I have something to give him.”

“That's simple enough. Salon back door. Second bell. I shall be returning for the evening with Senidet, so if he is unable to attend, I shall bring a message accordingly.”

“You're a married man, Ted. So I can give you a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek.”

I did so and he blushed.

I was still in my good, bubbly mood, humming and singing when not kissing married soldiers, so I laughed gaily at Ted's slight blush, and teased him by saying: “Don't forget to tell your wife!”

I went back to the Salon and Kelly's eyes asked me if the mission was accomplished. Mine replied in the affirmative.

Earlier, she had soon realised what I was planning, and she approved when I told her all the details privately. So much so, that she told me to leave earlier than normal that night.

… … …

“Whose house is this?”

“My friend Gythy's, and her mother. They are downvalley at the moment so I have approved access. I was at my wit's end to find somewhere suitable. My own house would be too disrespectful. A hired room was not the right thing. Then I suddenly realised the opportunity this afternoon. And you're off up the Vale for a few days. So it had to be tonight.”

“And what, precisely, has to happen tonight?”

“I want you to make me a real woman, and this is not my Fruitable Week.”

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