Constrained by Rain

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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 © 2019 - 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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“Well, I’m told it does ease slightly during the night, but I have never been awake enough to test that theory.” Milsy grinned at us. “Mayhap we should ask someone who knows? Commander Feteran?”

I whirled round and saw Jenet’s husband grinning at us. He started towards us as Jenet moved naturally to his side, kissed him tenderly and took his hand. He had obviously disrobed from his rain clothes at the front door, for we had not seen him come in through this courtyard at the back. We were standing under the angled roof that covered the raised footway at the back of the kitchens, looking at the little lake the courtyard had become. What we could see of it that was, through the curtains of water cascading down, and given the very disturbed surface.

“Ask me what, Mistresses?” he replied after murmuring things to his wife and fondly returning her kiss.

“I wondered if the rain ever eased off and asked Milsy. She referred the question to ‘someone who would know’ and named yourself Commander,” I replied with a smile.

I had formed the habit of taking a little outside air for, despite the rain, the air was still pleasantly warm of an evening. We made this excursion after our dinner each night over at the House and before the laborious business of donning the wet weather wear for our trip back to the Hotel, where we would have the equally laborious task of shedding it all again. We had discussed whether the weather made it more sensible to cater for the Hotel guests and staff, and guards, from the Hotel kitchens. Indeed, I was keen so to do for that way I felt I could pay back some of the generosity that had been showered upon us. It would take a few days to test the ovens and ranges and to stock up on adequate supplies.

However, I appear to be drifting off the topic I wished to report.

I say I had formed that habit and ’twas true even though this particular evening was merely the fourth after the rains had commenced. Prevet and Molleena were usually the maids that came outside with us – us being Jenet, Senidet, Milsy, Waxerwet, Gullbrand and myself. Gyth generally stayed with Davvy so they could exchange news of what had happened during the courses of each other’s days, but sometimes she swapped with Waxerwet. That first night we had ALL gone to the House leaving Toria to stay with Davvy, but that was not a success, as we discovered the next day when Davvy told us privately that Toria was a very capable maid, but she ’lacked a little quickness of mind’.

But to get back to the conversation with the Commander…

“Indeed I am, as you, nay, they say, in the know. Many an uncomfortable night duty has given me an almost intimate knowledge. Yes, the rains DO ease on almost every night, but they never seem to relent totally. At least not on all the nights that I have had to observe. And when I say ease, the difference is usually only very slight. I have heard rumours of the occasional clear few bells on very rare nights.”

“Is it so very awkward travelling in such weather?”

“Indeed it is, Mistress Julina. We tend to keep our journeys as short as possible and try to avoid any longer ones. Of course, longer ones are unavoidable eventually – and you should be aware that by longer ones, I mean across town or to the outlying areas, areas that we should now describe as ‘industrial’. The main roads outside of towns or villages are all but impassable. Although well founded and well marked, with such restricted visibility, it is far too easy to wander off the road surface and end in one of the deep ditches which you shall remember run alongside.”

“I find that very strange, Commander. Surely the markstones can guide you?”

“Mistress, the markstones as you call them, are a full mark apart. With dimmed daylight and torrential rain reducing visibility, anyone is lucky to be able to see as far away as a cast. Out in the countryside, with few visible features, a traveller would find it nigh on impossible to hold to a straight course.”

“Surely the water pouring off the roadway and into the drainage ditches would be visible? That event would be much closer than a cast.”

The Commander turned to his wife and raised his eyebrows in an obvious silent question. Jenet thought briefly and then nodded her acceptance.

“Very well, Mistress, I shall take you out for a ride tomorrow so you can see for yourself. I have three days off, as it happens – well not entirely off to be fair, for I must remain on call – but we shall take a three bell excursion on the morrow.”

“Ah! You will recall, Commander, that our riding frayen are stabled in the castle at Dekarran? I should need to hire a beast from somewhere. And a saddle.” I believe that I kept the excitement and trepidation from my voice but I was suddenly looking forward to learning so much more about this downpour. And I was already feeling restless with being cooped up all day. Imagine how poor Davvy must feel, confined as she was to her room, rarely even getting out of her bed. For her future, she must remain as still as possible; patience now would be rewarded by a full recovery.

“I’ll come too,” said Waxerwet, with a definite tone that told all present she would brook no argument.

Feteran raised his hand in a commanding fashion. “Yes, I concur, for the sake of having a female companion, but I tell you now I can take no others, no maids, no-one. Any more bodies in the party and the chances of someone getting lost become too high for any form of comfort whatsoever.”

That statement was a very powerful forewarning. We already knew a little, of course, for we walked in the rains from the Hotel to the House and back. ’Twas ever uncomfortable since the sheer weight of water crashing down made each of us hunch our shoulders and keep our heads bent forward. But the buildings and their walls kept us on track, and we took advantage of all of the many roof protuberances that provided some little, but nevertheless noticeable, respite. Sometimes, I was forced to concede, the unaccustomed volume of the water made it impossible for us to see to the other side of the road. Why even now, the stable block here across the courtyard was difficult to define.

… … …

“Kallisthena!”

The Commander simply grinned at my expletive.

Waxerwet said (forcefully for her): “For once, I deem that such language is appropriate, and shall not frown at you for employing it.”

We were in the allocated disrobing room at the back of Blackstone Hotel where already, this early in the rainy season, ’twas smelling exceeding damp. We two women were shaking off the drops that still clung to our wet weather protective clothing, trying not to splash the assisting maids too much. The poor frayen we had dragged through the downpour had already expressed somehow a little delight in being once more under cover in the stabling block. I for one was fully in agreement with their sentiments. It had taken us maybe five moments to strip off their own protective coverings and I noticed that the eye protectors supplied were of very limited effectiveness.

Even after stripping them of their protections, and receiving their grateful thanks which I could somehow sense, I worried further about the poor beasts, for there were no others stabled there, all the others’ riding frayen being around the corner at the House. Just our two rented beasts were in what seemed to be the vast and cavernous stables. At least some animal fodder had been stored in the stables before the rains commenced, so we were able to feed them. There were also some small piles of supplies for the Hotel, not just fodder for us humans, but also household requisites. But really not very much at all. We would have to replenish somehow, despite the downpour.

The Commander stood in the doorway of the disrobing room, still protectively clad for he had yet to return to Blackstone House with his own animal. “Now I deem you understand a little more about the impossibility of long distance travel without a fully protective coach, and clearly defined roadway edges. But even coach travel is burdensome for the poor sagmaters, who have what is after all very limited protection ...”

“Excuse me, Commander. What is, are, saggy matters, did you say?”

“Ah, forgive me! ’Tis a word we use in the military which, I am led to believe, comes down to us from the Chivans. It simply means any and all beasts that pull wagons, coaches, carts and now, I suppose, your wenders and bacs. It is also applied to those that drag some barges along and again to those...”

I missed the last part of his sentence as that idea which had been bubbling in my head for a few days now leapt into my mind finally fully formed. I looked somewhat frantically around for my clothing so I could cross immediately to the House, my idea was to walk next to the Commander. I would go on foot this time, thus leaving the poor frayen in relative comfort. Not to say that the five minutes it would take to equip the frayen was more than it was worth for what was simply a less than five minutes walk.

“What do you now, Mistress? Do I recognise the dawning of one of your ideas?” asked the Commander with what I interpreted as being an almost shocked reaction.

“Indeed so, Commander. I must speak over it with Mistress Senidet as soon as I may.”

“Alas Mistress, that must needs wait. For I know that she has accompanied Mistress Milsy to the Palace today. With your permission, I shall inform her as soon as she gets back and perchance will be able to visit you before she disrobes.”

“Oh! I had not thought that through properly, had I? Very well, Commander, I thank you for that, and indeed for the discomfort you suffered today on our behalves in our recent, very informative, demonstration. Let me see, now. … Ah! … I shall go and discuss my ideas now with Davvy. ’Twill keep her mind off her woes for a while.”

“Then I shall take my leave, Mistresses!” He bowed somewhat stiffly, the said stiffness due entirely to the protective layers he was carrying on his body, and sketched a wave to us before ducking out of the door once more, back into the torrents falling from above.

… … ...

“I recognise that voice from somewhere!” I said to Waxerwet as we climbed the stairs to Davvy’s room from which came the unexpected rumble of a male voice – no, TWO male voices! My mind flashed suddenly to the disrobing room – there were more clothes hanging up in there than normal. My idea had driven that subconscious observation completely from my awareness. Although, upon more mature reflection, maybe that observation of mine might not have been so obvious for we were, in those early days, still establishing our routine here in the Hotel. We had us four Blackstone women, the two maids with us, four house servants and six armsmen. The last two ‘groups’ were changed twice a week to prevent any feelings of isolation. A move for which I was already recognising as being beneficial for us all since there was in that way some changes to relieve the sameness of enforced staying at home.

And today I was to start producing meals here after the successful conclusions of our kitchen tests. Another antidote to feelings of frustration.

And I have to report that the young girls who lived in the House and who frequently scampered over here made me, nay us, feel like old women with their carefree attitude, as if they were saying: “’Tis but a bit of rain.”

Today’s excursion had banished any positive feelings from my mind. We had travelled maybe three marks in all, but half a mark outside of the town had been nearly enough for me. And I had been acutely aware that every stride we took away from the city boundaries would have to be repeated as we made our way back. And indeed the roadway edges lost definition as we struggled to keep hunched against the weather and yet were still required to attempt more distant vision. A very sobering experience that gave us great insight into the extremes of the weather.

But back to the unexpected male voices I could hear as Waxerwet and I climbed the stairs.

The loudest one of the two, by now I could detect there were two, was hauntingly familiar. But annoyingly reticent as to its owner’s identity. I just could NOT place it. Some vague notion of hearing it almost buried amongst many other voices was pressing forward, obscuring any other trains of thought.

Still the puzzle would be solved in just a few steps, so I loudly observed that much to Waxerwet in order to give the people up there some advanced notice of our approach. We turned the last corner of the stairway and I naturally looked ahead to see who was there. I stopped in my tracks, one foot raised to the next stair tread. My mouth fell open. My wits were briefly scattered.

I was shocked so much I just blurted out somewhat impolitely: “Maker! What are YOU doing here?”

The voice I had heard and half-recognised belonged to that Varran man. A Sarjant, I believe, in the Jothan forces. And the chief assistant or whatever to Tenant Maralin.

To whom, it was now revealed, belonged the second voice I had heard.

And who now (grinningly) said: “And I too am pleased to see YOU, Mistresses!”

Waxerwet, the meany, left it up to me to get the conversation back to normal and I was just about to say something when Davvy squealed in obvious delight: “Oh thank the Maker you are returned, ’Lina! These two men refuse to tell me why they are here and not in Joth until all are gathered and then they needs recount their tale but the once.”

Maralin caught my eye and winked. “But Mistress Davabet, there should be others present such as Mistresses Milsy, Senidet and Jenet.”

“Oh no!” she wailed. “That is unfair in the extreme. The first two I know are at the Palace today and will probably only return after you have departed. And Mistress Jenet is over in Blackstone House.”

She looked as though she were about to burst into tears, so Maralin relented: “Actually Mistresses, they already know, for I have now told the tale no less than five times to various people in the Palace. The King and Queen have graciously offered me accommodation in the Palace for the duration of the rains and for however long it takes after them to restore the ferry services between Terban and the slip they call Beress East.

“So we are comfortably settled in a small suite of rooms there and I am handy for meetings with His Majesty and his advisors. Let me make it plain, I shall have to return to Joth at the very earliest opportunity for I have several things to arrange there, both business-wise and personal.

“As I said, I have informed Mistresses Milsy and Senidet already of all the circumstances. The Commander too knows so I must assume his wife does. It was the first two who suggested we come here today, not only to inform you and your group but also to arrange some sort of plan and/or schedule for the times that Mistress Julina and I can get together to progress our own requirements for working with one another.

“That should be a good way to relieve some of the boredom and enforced seclusion during the coming weeks maybe months, as well as advance our way towards our targets several weeks ahead of the original plans. It is somewhat uncomfortable to travel in this weather ...” I snorted at that statement which made him glance more acutely at me, “… but the relatively short distance from the Palace to here would not be too much of a trial on an occasional basis.”

“In that case, Mistresses, Sarjant, Tenant, everyone, may I suggest we descend to the kitchens, for I have to start the catering for the establishment this day, which will require but half or so of the facilities down there. I can then listen whilst carrying out one or two of my tasks. And pel will be more readily to hand.

“And maybe some beer?” I added slyly whilst looking at the Sarjant, who nodded back appreciatively.

“And I can tell you all of another idea I had this morning, one that has been building up for a few days and popped out only this morning. I need to discuss it with Senidet first, but ’tis sound, I deem.”

They were polite enough to at least pretend some interest, so it was that we all changed location, yes, even Davvy with an over-protective Toria permanently hovering around her, and I bustled about whilst the Tenant recounted his fascinating tale. At a few places, without breaking his narrative, he saw what I would need (almost before I knew it myself!) and handed me tools or pans or just a steadying hand. The time passed most swiftly and very efficiently.

“So let me start with the departure from Palarand City after that splendid dinner round the corner.”

The Sarjant broke in at that point: “’Twere the best meal I ever done eat in my life, Mistress. I will never be able to thank ’ee properly,” he rumbled.

I smiled even as I blushed at the compliment.

The Tenant restarted: “So we formed up our large party, The Duke and his family, the armsmen, and our little Jothan group of four. With carriages and wagons and the like, we could not progress as rapidly as we had expected. Nevertheless, we had an early start and crossed the old bridge over the Crescent Lake not that long after noon. The Duke and Duchess asked if we wanted to stop there at the roadhouse, the Moxgo Junction, but their twin daughters persuaded us all to continue as far as we could get before the sun set.

“They did say the next roadhouse might not be quite so well appointed, and so it proved, but that was, in its way, an advantage. For we did not delay in the morning, the basic facilities of that one encouraged us to leave early. And the Duke was pleased that he could stay somewhere different so that he was seen to be distributing his favours more widely.

“I must add a question here - are those twins ever a force to be reckoned with?” This question, more an observation really, made most of us smile.

“We arrived, still in the morning, at the Duke’s citadel, if that’s the right word – it is more than a mansion, more than a fort, and yet castle seems inappropriate somehow, making it sound a little forbidding. Maybe a fortified palace?” He shrugged his idle thought away. “Anyway, the twins had persuaded their parents that THEY should be the responsible people for setting up your Consociation, so, there and then, they dragged us off to see the old mill to the south and east of Brikant, leaving the Duke and Duchess to arrange the details of their return to their home.

“A thought then occurred to me in that it seemed unnecessary for the four of us all to go and inspect what we had assumed to be ruins, so I split our group into two pairs, keeping Varran and sending the other two ahead of us, hoping they could cross the river that very evening, which they just managed to do. Apparently they made it onto the very last ferry with a scant five minutes to spare, or so we were told by the ferry master the next morning.

“I must say that I think the Twins idea to be good, and, despite it having been abandoned for some time now, the building is still fairly well protected from the elements. Varran and I duly inspected the proposed site, but confess we did not do so in fine detail. We gave our opinions, and our farewells, and then made it to Terban, reaching there just after darkness had fallen. I was grateful once again to you, Mistress Julina, this time for the Beam Lantern. I was frustrated that we hadn’t managed the crossing ourselves, but nevertheless, we knew that just two more nights after this one would see us home. We were informed of the hour of the scheduled departure of the first ferry in the morning, so we arranged to be woken with time to spare.

“Well, we awoke the next day and could immediately feel a difference in the air. The local experts told us that the rains would likely begin in 2 or 3 days time, which dismayed us. That would make a very tight schedule for reaching the sanctuary of Joth City. Were we going to be stuck somewhere when we were so close to getting home?

“We arrived at the slip still some half a bell in advance of the scheduled time and were astounded to see the ferry already half a mark or more out from the shore. The slip was crowded to a certain extent with disgruntled customers. I sought out the ferry master and asked him why there was no ferry for us to board. He told us that they had had to dispatch the ferry to rescue a ship that was being borne by the currents. There were indications of some damage and no sign of anyone able to control it. With all the rowers the ferry had, they could soon catch up with the problem ship.

“Of course we fully understood that it was necessary to send a rescue mission, but the closer nature of the air and the confident predictions regarding the start of the rains made me even more nervous about the time we had left. My heart dropped further when we saw the rescued ship was being towed to the ferry slip on the OPPOSITE bank. We would then have a further wait for the ferry to return to us.

“But that didn’t happen for a long, long while.

“A long while in which several semaphores were sent forwards and backwards and the picture was made ever clearer. The ferry itself had successfully rescued the other craft and the people aboard it. However, in the close work, one of the hulls of the ferry was damaged. It seemed to be holding up but for safety’s sake, the ferry company wanted to inspect the damage more closely before venturing out on the waters with a full load. All this cost us the entire morning.

“I myself sent several semaphore messages, one across the river to our waiting companions telling them to make for Joth in all haste as it seemed the rains would crash upon us a day or two earlier than formerly expected. I also sent messages about our delay ahead to Joth and back to the Palace in Palarand as I had promised to keep His Majesty informed of my whereabouts at all times.

“I received several replies, amongst which was one from King Robanar himself who urged me not to get stuck for all the weeks of the rains in some remote village where any usefulness I could provide would be nullified. He suggested that we either return to the Palace where he would provide accommodation, or to continue to Joth as rapidly as we might where I could also be useful. Both Varran and I discussed the matters. With this enforced delay, it would mean three more night stops to get to Joth, assuming that was still possible, but only one to get back to Palarand City. The experts were saying the rains might well come in two days’ time, so even getting back to Palarand’s Palace might be too much. This was eventually the course we chose, in order to minimise any risks.

“As it happened, we got to Robanar’s Palace late in the evening only just before the skies opened.

“I had not truly believed the stories they all told me beforehand. This is my first experience down here in the Great Valley during its rainy season. I regret I ever thought of scoffing at those reporters.”

“We too are shocked at the severity of it all. We imagined, living as we did up in the mountains, that all these downvalleyers were just exaggerating and couldn’t cope with OUR tough life if they had to. My how we were wrong!”

Now it has taken me some small amount of time to write this all down, but of course the tale itself took far longer as he was relating it, what with the ‘Ooooh’s and ‘Aaaah’s from his audience, and interruptions for clarification requests and all the rest of normal conversational habits. So by the time it was finished, then ’twas time to call everyone to table to eat the simple meal I had prepared, helped by a few deft touches from the Tenant too.

… … …

“You mentioned you had had an idea, Mistress?”

I turned from feeding Davvy her latest spoonful of the dessert with which we were all finishing our meals. “Tenant, I did indeed say something to that effect!” I grinned at him before launching into my explanation which I had been thinking about in the back of my head ever since we all seated ourselves at the huge table there. “Let me first give you some background, some factors if you like.”

I paused briefly to reassure myself that my thoughts covered all that was required.

“I suppose the first thing, maybe the fundamental thing, was a journey we once undertook from Blackstone. It was still dark for we had far to go that day - on a wagon, rather than on the faster frayen. Frankly, we were not so proficient at riding in those days, some of us had never even mounted by then.

“Anyway, ’twas a drear morning with rain pouring down. Pouring? Hah! THIS is pouring I now realise - not the gentle by comparison shower we experienced that day! So we were huddled in the belly of the wagon. There was an arrangement they called a ‘crosstrees’ at the tail supporting a long pole, the other end of which was lodged somehow on the back of the driver's chair. Across this pole was draped a large tarpaulin the sides of which were attached to the walls of the wagon bed. We passengers huddled together to keep dry. But poor Jaffy, the driver, was stuck up there in the weather. And the beast, dear Josten, was uncomfortable even though dranakh can swim and everything. Miserable rain is, after all, miserable rain to everyone and everything.

“Various other journeyings reinforced my impressions as time marched by. I deem there is no requirement for me to enumerate each and every one of these. Suffice it to say that NOTHING prepared me for this downpour. But my brain has been chewing on this all for some time now.

“We walk often from here to the House and back again. For which we spend seemingly bells, or should I say hours?, putting on our wet weather clothing, walking a mere 5 mom… minutes, then a few more bells disrobing again.

“Only to do it all over again to return here.

“So it occurred to me that we could have a sort of stand on wheels, two of them actually, with a long pole between them, supported above head height. Then add a wide roof to that pole so that all six of us can huddle beneath the roofing and keep dry. We can then push this strange wagon along the streets and take our protection with us.

“Then I thought, wait a moment! Something similar could be used for getting deliveries from wagons to the house without getting too wet too much.

“And then I extended the principle to having a roof on simple wagons. Passengers and goods carried could be protected.

“But what about the poor driver? And the poor … what was it you said? … sagmater?

“And when going along, how to protect from the weather being blown in from the front?”

The Tenant stood and started clapping, which made me blush yet again. He said: “I congratulate you on thinking of this. And yes, some of it is indeed quite workable.”

He stopped to think just then, and I could read his face when he started talking again. He was NOT telling us everything when he said: “Where I come from, we actually have something similar and we use a sheet of glass to keep the rain from entering the enclosed area and yet still afford some vision.”

“Maker! I had not thought of that.” That refinement of my idea really appealed to me. I should have thought of that having seen for myself the glass sliding windows in the coach we took from South Slip to Palarand City.

At this point, I should say that it was not until MUCH later that I more fully analysed his words and realised a lot of what he must have known and didn’t say.

… … …

Older Julina: When I look back on that period of my life, then boredom is the overwhelming memory, and yet, when I come now to tidy up all the notes I then made, I realise that actually we achieved rather a lot in those days of being mostly cooped up in a large building that was virtually unoccupied!

And so it was that a routine settled upon us. I catered for the staff and the occupants of the Hotel, Gyth and Waxerwet worked on various other houses during the day (they got more and more commissions as their reputation grew, but the weather made everything slow down dreadfully), Senidet and Milsy came to us for some evenings, we went to their House on others. Davvy was a handful to start with, the healers came weekly to check on her and to change her plaster and so on.

But more specifically, after discussing my idea with Senidet, we (that is Senidet and I), with the help of a pair of young men she recruited from somewhere, spent many bells, first in the stables at the Hotel where we established a workshop for creating my movable rooves. This activity was then planned to be relocated into the large barn-like real workshop within the grounds, once we had our first crude movable cover to protect ourselves when we wanted to get there. Access to the stables was easy as there was a covering sloping roof above the walkway so we could get there without undue exposure to the elements. Access to the workshop would become so much easier once we had a basic but working example of my idea; but we still required our rain clothing to do so – just in case.

Also interspersed with all this were visits for a complete day from Tenant Maralin, usually along with Sarjant Varran. This pair arrived roughly every third day, but ’twas much more irregular than that statement implies. Much of what we learnt (we being Davvy, I, Prevet and sometimes the Sarjant) from him would be so boring to describe in detail that I fear you would be sent to sleep before reaching the end of the first paragraph.

I cannot, despite all good intentions, relate events that occurred from day to day in some sort of chronological order. There were a few continuous threads that wove in and out of our days and weeks, indeed much more than a month of the rains, so I will tell you them from the events’ perspectives rather than try to do it all in some sort of strict time sequence.

I will mention here one conversation from which we gathered a disturbing fact. We had been trying to get a feel for the normal life in Palarand. Amongst much else, Jenet had said: “The rains last year lasted six weeks, and that was a shorter period than normal. The longest I can remember was a day or two over nine weeks.”

The Tenant said: “So long! When they told me weeks, I imagined three or four!”

His words caused my heart to sink, and later discussions made it clear those of my companions had also done so at the same time.

Older Julina: I have noticed something as I prepare these notes, that mayhap I must point out. In those days, the Tenant was still relatively new to the Great Valley and his speech patterns were slightly, and yet noticeably, different to ours. I have tried to imply this difference with my reports of his words, but I confess that sometimes I have been too lazy and have spoken in his ‘voice’ but with my accent and words!

But the first thread I feel I must deal with is Davvy’s arm repairs.

/// /// /// /// /// ///

As I reported a little earlier, the healers were right.

That first week, Davvy was so grumpy, so short tempered, so snappy, so … so … so … mean-spirited. All of us found it a great burden, but the healers had at least warned us that that would happen, so that made it that degree easier to just grin and bear it. But, please remember, it was a chore that indeed had to be borne; I do not wish to make light of it, nor of Davvy’s misfortune.

When the healers returned after a week, the first thing they did was to chide Davvy for not making more of an effort to try to use her withered arm to assist, even if it was just to hold the elbow out to one side a bit and to carry things under the arm and jammed into her side. As soon as she started to whine and moan about how it was impossible to pick anything up, they cut her off short, pointing out to her that her friends were supporting her already and could easily pick things up for her. They impressed upon us all that any improvement she could make would be of great benefit once her only normally good wrist had healed.

The second thing they did was to change the plaster.

Davvy didn’t need any of the knock-out drops, she simply fainted when they brought out of a heavily-laden bag a large hammer, a chisel and a saw, amongst other things. Gyth and I and Prevet, who were present when they did it, nearly fainted as well.

But with Davvy out of it, I was once again allocated the task of holding her arm still. And the two healers went into their very practiced routine to get it done as quickly as possible. At first, her arm was held upright and they scored a deep groove from hand to elbow down what became the underside once her arm was replaced onto the table.

With the large saw they scratched through the plaster at what looked to me to be a very strange angle. And almost immediately I got an answer as to why they did something when they were building up the plaster, a something I had remarked and yet never remembered to ask about. They had built in several loops of strong yarn so they stood upright from the arm. They had packed the plaster around these. What they did now was to saw through the surface of the plaster and expose the loops. I realised they served as guides to both the direction of sawing and also the depth of sawing.

Thus aided, they were swift in getting through the plaster in the first direction. Davvy had returned to consciousness just before they were completed with the first saw cut and I deem her fascination with the process and her inner inquisitiveness prevented her from fainting away again when they started the second cut which was at an angle across the first one. The intersection point of the two cuts was at one of those yarn loops.

They were swiftly done with the second cut and the two three-sided pieces of plaster they had thus excised were simply discarded by moving them to one side.

“Now, now, Mistress!” warned Shiret. “We must needs yet break away the rest of the plaster. I know how delightful it is for you to scratch the arm where it has now been exposed, but a mere two more minutes of patience shall be rewarded by unhampered access to all those itches that have built up this last week. BUT BEWARE. You must not endanger the bones that have only just joined, so you must make every effort to keep that arm still. Yes, you may use that stick you have in your mouth, but I would recommend you let your friends do the scratching. If you break the skin we may have unwanted consequences.”

Davvy screwed up her face as she tried so hard to resist the temptation. The two healers asked for me to once more hold the elbow still and then they simply strained against the cut edges of the plaster which broke along the line they had first scored on what was now the underside. The plaster was then simply slid away. Shiret gently raised her patient’s hand and, with tender yet firm fingers, she danced her fingertips across the place of the fracture. She raised her eyes to Dilvia and nodded positively.

“You may now scratch her arm – but GENTLY!” stated Dilvia before she was good-heartedly brushed aside. Then we set to, all of us, giggling away as our nails gently scratched Davvy’s skin and she squirmed in ecstasy.

Eventually, we had to stop and Shiret carefully washed the arm. Then ’twas once more encased in a plaster covering, but this time the covering was thinner and not quite so long. Davvy was promised that she would be allowed to wiggle her fingers after the next change of plaster.

“… In the meantime, here are some exercises for you to do, to maintain some muscle tone in your arms, shoulders and neck.”

And so we continued. Davvy got less grumpy as she had things to do and help by using her mind. Her dexterity of using her withered arm rapidly improved.

At first, the healers replaced her plaster after two weeks. I shall never forget the delight she took in scratching her exposed skin when that happened.

Eventually the plaster was left off and her wrist was tightly bandaged for a final week of support.

I was shocked, sufficiently so that I discussed it with the others, and we all agreed how rapidly we forgot all the nastinesses associated with Davvy’s convalescence. Before the rains eased off and ceased, Davvy was back to the woman of whom we had all been so fond.

/// /// /// /// /// ///

When considering the development of my movable roof idea, then I must report we had our fair share of problems to be solved, mostly produced by the actual practical trying of things out. We worked at these as they occurred, some causing some temper tantrums I must admit, but my overall memory of the entire process was of a lot of laughter.

We started out in a corner of the stables, for we could get there relatively easily by using the protected walkways around the edges of the rear courtyard. No need for the laborious dressing up and disrobing that way. There was of course the large special workshop in the back corner of the complex, it actually formed the corner as its walls were the boundary lines of the property, but there were no covered walkways to get to it. I wondered briefly if the neighbours could access their half of the building easily, the property line ran through the middle of it after all; a solid floor-to-ceiling internal wall under the shared roof being the legal demarcation.

But back to the development of my idea.

It all started most rapidly…

“… keep the heaviness of the downpour away from both people and animals … sagmaters as the Commander calls them.”

“Oh my! Julina, you have these ideas that seem so obvious when you explain them. ’Tis a wonder that no other has come up with them.”

“I too find I have difficulties understanding why nothing has been done on this,” I replied.

“May I discuss this with Milsy? I would be discreet. We wouldn’t want someone else to get the Exclusivity Licence. We need to get on with this as soon as we may. Thank the Maker we have space here to work in comfortably whilst the heavens try to drown us.”

I gasped. For I really had not thought about Exclusivity Licences. I had just thought to make our lives a little easier getting from the Hotel to the House. Suddenly an enormously wider range of options opened up and my brain started feverishly once more.

But first we had to make a start somewhere.

And that was, in its way, hilarious.

Where do you start on a project like that? It is a roof after all, so do you start with that aspect, or do you start with the bottom and build up from there, fixing first the wheels and all the stuff necessary for them?

We chose to start with the roof. Now I have to mention that we two, Senidet and I, realised from the very beginning that we could not do this all ourselves. I was surprised at Milsy’s enthusiasm for the project and soon we had a new face to feed and a new bed to provide. A young man was allocated to us and he stayed for the duration of the rains.

An association that started off on the wrong foot.

“But Wyzen, what is wrong with working with females? If you are going to help us make a success of this project, you will have to swallow your prejudices. Look at the examples you have already in the Guilds. Her Highness, Princess Garia, Milsy and Senidet might be the forerunners, but Senidet tells me there are increasing numbers of others. What is that expression that I hear more and more often nowadays – ah, yes, KO, no that’s not it...”

“OK” interjected Senidet.

I smiled at her: “Thank you.” I turned back to young Wyzen. “OK, now I myself may not be in the Guilds as such, or in the ‘Engineers’ as we now refer to them, but I do have some reputation for ideas that have proven to be useful.”

“Indeed she has!” added Senidet and Davvy at the same time. I was pleased to see a fleeting smile shoot across the boy’s face. Now I say ‘boy’ but should point out that later we discovered he was two years my senior! His little smile told me that he wasn’t as serious and staid as he had appeared all along so far.

A few days after he started, and relieved to find that he could actually voice suggestions, Wyzen called us to the stables after dinner one evening. The first working prototype was ready to be demonstrated.

All of us trooped along to see the thing. Or maybe ’twould be better written as The Thing.

It coincided with an evening during which the Jothans had dined with us, so there were almost too many to fit into the space and still move it around in a testing manner, despite the fact that the two frayen we had hired had by then been returned to their owner(s). Wyzen was as proud as any new parent, and I was also delighted to see the physical fruition of my idea.

Both of us were brought down to ground with a bit of a bump, though, when Maralin pointed out several flaws that we had not considered. Some of which we had not, in fact, even realised would be important.

Again in retrospect, his introduction that evening of the thing he called a ‘steering wheel’ was a significant change to life in the Valley for many years to come.

A week later, Wyzen and Senidet, with some little hindrances from me which I fondly thought were helps, had produced a newer version which was unveiled again after a dinner. But this time with just us there. The roof was greatly enlarged, sticking out in all directions by at least half again from the original Thing. The main part was also elongated to accommodate the steering mechanism at the front, and the supports for what Maralin had insisted we include both front and back and which he termed ‘Mudguards’.

He had also suggested that we increase the diameter of the wheels, but no-one had been impressed by his explanations. Mind you, this was the first change we did for the next version after trying it out for real! We also appreciated his foresight in getting us to mount those mudguard thingies.

This third version required several changes of course. Having discovered that the small wheels were not so good at gliding across uneven and unseen surfaces, then the mudguards had to be changed to fit the newer, larger wheels. The front canopy was extended as the rain still made its way into our ‘protected’ space, and the rear of the contraption was closed off, allowing us to have a small carry shelf there that was fully protected.

Finally, we had a workable version that we used from then on.

And we got inundated.

But not by water pouring down, oh no. By orders from others who had seen ours being used so successfully.

We also had several different sizes soon; small ones for the staff to go across to the stores and bring requisites back dry, larger ones for various sized parties to use; we got up to parties of ten people as our maximum. After that the canopies were too heavy to move so easily.

These ‘Walking Canopies’ afforded us all some coin from the Exclusivity Licence for the rest of the rains, and the next year’s ones too. By then, better things had been produced, with features only guessed at by people like Her Highness and Maralin, to mention two.

One result of the use of the Walking Canopies was that several houses, offices and workshops all added bigger or better porches over their main doors, thus allowing people to move from canopy to destination (and back again) without requiring full foul-weather finery.

However, I must report there was a far more serious consequence of having these available now.

Wyzen, Senidet, and a colleague of Wyzen’s who had been drafted in to aid with the production to cover all the orders, an equally young man named Morkem, used one to go and investigate the workshop, delighting in the ease of moving about less encumbered by bulky clothing.

They went into the workshop building and almost immediately rushed back out again. They all but ran back to our building, panting heavily when they got there, bursting into my kitchen from the rear entrance, eyes aglow and faces animated. And dripping on my floor.

They all started talking at once so it was just a little while before I realised that the roof of the workshop was damaged in some way.

I held up a hand and was surprised when I got instant silence and attention.

“This building has a wall down the middle of it, I understand?”

“That is so!”

“And that the other side of this wall actually belongs to the neighbouring mansion?”

They looked at each other and ’twas Senidet who murmured: “Yes. ’Tis the truth. I had forgotten, somehow.”

“Does this damage look as though their side is affected as well?”

Glances back and forth preceded another reply from Senidet: “I deem that it must be so. The roof is wide open right at the end where the roof ridge meets the outer wall high up. We can see that not all the water coming in is on our side of the dividing wall. What does do so is simply pouring in and running down the walls, internal and external. Also, the wooden floor beneath is rotted, it looks. Certainly a lot of the water is draining out of there. I wonder what that is doing to the footings!”

“Then any repairs will have to be a joint venture, I deem.” I paused as another thought flashed across my mind. “Hmm. If they already know about it and failed to inform us, then they should probably bear all the repair costs. Hmmm. Be wary when you speak with them, but one of you has to go round there now and report your findings, lest they know not and some of their belongings are being ruined. The other must dash off and find Gullbrand, failing that Milsy. The sooner the repairs, even if just temporary, are effected, the better. Senidet, as a lone woman, cannot go and convey these messages.”

Again Senidet and I exchanged glances and mental cursing at the stupidity of society’s rules. But neither of us could do anything about it.

But what she could do was to shoo them away as they hesitated yet again. They finally dashed off.

Then she started thinking aloud: “Wet work, but we must needs get a tarpaulin over the gaping hole. Better would be to erect a frame first, put the tarpaulin over that, then workmen doing the repairs shall have room to move and wield tools. There are some timbers I saw in there, some of which will be dry as they were along the wall away from the gushes. But is the roof strong enough to hold, or are we sending men into danger? And is the flooring still solid?”

The inherent dangers had not occurred to me and made me put my tools down and stare at her. I was brought back to the cookery by an angry hiss from one of the pans I was supposed to be watching.

By and by, details were worked out and an emergency tarpaulin was hastily thrown over the top with long, long ropes employed to prevent the covering from being either blown or washed away. A hectic schedule was worked over the next few days as more solid and durable supports were put in place. The neighbours were grateful for our warning and were more than happy to contribute some coin to the repairs and to leave it all in the hands of those we chose to employ.

Eventually, over one dinner, the visiting Master overseeing the project explained what must have happened to cause it. This was a man fond of the sound of his own voice and he delighted in telling everyone just how good he was, and just how high his circle of colleagues and companions was.

“That internal dividing wall is the root cause,” he started. “The builders went just a little too far. I shall have to report their shoddiness. Instead of just leaving a small gap at the very top, where the wall reached the roof beam right at the end of the ridge, before it juts out to form the eaves, they decided to make the whole thing solid. So they hammered a half brick in there,” his face darkened, “without bothering to shape it properly. They were probably too lazy to keep climbing up and down their construction ladder.”

He shook all of himself first and then just his head in disbelief at such dreadfully shoddy practices.

“So the tiles just above there cracked.” His voice shifted into that of a lecturer. “Now we Masters all know that water, when it freezes, requires a greater space than that when ’tis liquid …”

Actually I didn’t know that, at least not what I would call ‘properly’. Not the applications of such knowledge. I was wondering about the significance of this new knowledge but held my peace just then. So I didn’t miss much of his utterances.

“… water got into these cracks and could not escape. Then the winter came and the water in the cracks froze which forced the cracks slightly wider. Repeat this several times, and the tiles become fatally flawed. And thus weakened. I trust you women can follow all this?”

I laid a hand on Senidet’s shoulder to pacify her and shook my head with a frown at an indignant Gyth. I saw Gullbrand do something similar to ease Waxerwet’s discomfort. All of us were seething by this time.

Oblivious, the gasbag continued: “This season they gave way. We know they were alright early in the rains because the Commander here wisely sent out inspection parties soon after they commenced. So this has happened in the last few weeks, maybe even last few days, but I deem it must be weeks judging by the dampness and rotting of the floor. We have had to effect repairs of the floor as well as the roof. The wall itself I deem to be sufficiently sound to last the remainder of the rains.

“Now recently in the Palace,” he began once more but in a tone that seemed to doubt any of us would be able to grasp the significance of these weighty matters that groups of Masters discuss over there, “we have had some discussions as to what we shall be doing once the rains cease. I gather that there is a new fledgling department being set up to unearth anything left behind by the Chivans and those that came after them. I deem that the rush of water down through the floor of that Workshop out there has washed away some of the covering of an ancient building. So this new Master has managed to get others on his side and has prevented us from destroying anything down there, which has of course made our job so much more difficult.” His tone suggested that any investigation of ancient stuff is beneath any serious Craftmaster.

I wondered if he actually knew about the excavations at the end of the Shevesty Field.

He shrugged his shoulders dismissively: “So I cannot be held to account if this simple job takes so much longer than it really should. At least the ingress of water up aloft has been prevented...”

---

Lessons are taken and given, and much is revealed and discussed

---

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 © 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.

---

“… and, if you turn it round, you have a question. ‘Are we happy?’ is the question; ‘We are happy’ is the statement. ‘Is it cold?’ is a question; ‘It is cold’ is a statement.”

Questions, statements. Sentences and phrases. Subjects, verbs, objects. Nouns, adjectives and adverbs. Persons, singular and plural. Tenses. Punctuation. Rules and exceptions. And a whole load of differently written letters and numbers. My mind was completely a’whirl with it all, and the others were having an even more difficult time of it, I knew.

I suspect that Sarjant Varran’s fondness for our food (and beer) was an important influence, but both he and Tenant Maralin had come and stayed for three nights with us in the Hotel to “make a start and get a good grounding in learning English”.

And so had started the four most intense days of instruction that I could ever recall. At the time, I thought that we were being pushed TOO hard, but a couple of days afterwards, as those early basics wormed their way into our heads, I appreciated how clever the Tenant had been throughout his lessons - and even from before!

But to return to that first night - his first words were uttered very seriously to us over the dinner table one evening: “I would remind you all that you have each individually sworn an oath to keep what we talk about here restricted only to those in the know. In other words: what happens in this room stays in this room.”

We all solemnly nodded our agreement.

“I shall combine some of the tales of the Visund with some of the lessons I am principally here to give, which I deem would be far more interesting than simply taking you all back to school.”

His first words I found to be encouraging: “Where I come from, which you will remember is also from where Her Highness does, there is a common expression that goes: ‘English is the easiest language to learn, but the most difficult to use properly!’ Actually, there is another lady here in Alaesia, called Ursula, who is also familiar with our language. This makes us a trio that speak English fluently.”

He chuckled then: “Although sometimes Ursula’s accent is difficult to grasp, I must confess. And, just occasionally, she gets her words wrong.”

“This is nominally very good for Alaesia, since the information we expect to get shall actually be in English. Which in turn is why King Robanar has determined that English shall be taught to all those that are likely to have access to that valuable information.

“However, Princess Garia has not yet returned from her mission.

“And Ursula is trapped by the rains in an unspecified haven somewhere upriver. It is doubtful that they would have made it back to Sheldane since we have not had some message to that effect; despite the rains, I am certain that being so close, some method would have been found.

“So, all of that means that you are stuck with just little me to help you and your education.”

We grinned at the thought that anyone could describe Tenant Maralin as ‘little’.

Commander Feteran politely asked: “Tenant, I would learn more of this Ursula.”

“Very well, Commander. Where shall I begin? When she was first found so to speak would probably be the best moment …

“You may remember that we Jothans were offered transport home aboard Her Other Highness’ ship, the Visund as there was to be a journey of discovery toiling against the currents of the Sirrel which would take the vessel much farther than just Joth.”

There were several nods around the table. And some very puzzled looks.

The Tenant continued: “They broke that said journey for nigh-on a month in Joth City whilst the vessel was stationed there for some repairs, having been damaged after an adventure or two.”

He held up a hand. “Now is NOT the time for descriptions of those adventures, but I doubt not other evenings I am here whilst the downpour continues can be passed filling out those details. Princess Garia is unavailable and Mistress Ursula, assuming she has stayed aboard the ship, is likewise indisposed.

“For the moment allow me to complete the overall picture once the ship had been repaired. Suffice it to say that I later rejoined the ship’s company for when they departed Joth City to continue upriver as I had been charged by my Duke to deliver several bundles of papers to the rulers between Joth and Yod. The ship of course continued upriver after I left them. Of that journey I regret I have no first hand knowledge.

“’Twas was on its way back down the river Sirrel, we assume, having visited many of the upriver lands, when the rains caught her. By the way, in English we always say that a ship is a female, so that last ‘her’ was a reference to the Visund, but would also be an accurate description of both Ursula and Her Other Highness.

“That is the overview of the ship’s journey and I must repeat, we are all assuming that the expedition was successful enough to have turned round and started home. We have no definitive knowledge that that was so.

“That cannot however be considered to be my main purpose. That is to bring Mistress Julina, and anyone else interested, up to a satisfactory level of knowledge of the English language.

“We shall come here to make a start on the English lessons in the morning after next.”

He paused to take a breath and a large sip of wine.

“Tenant, if it pleases? Visund? Another Her Highness? And you used another strange word to my ears – ‘trio’?”

Wyzen was sitting in with us at that dinner table of course, as were the others; I had long been trying to persuade them all that sooner or later they was going to have to learn English, even whilst acknowledging that the ‘later’ option could be a few years away yet. So they might as well just see if they wanted to get in as early as anyone else, always bearing in mind that this might distract them from their allocated duties.

Just as I was about to take it upon myself to answer Wyzen, Maralin spoke once more: “Indeed, Goodman. I will for now be brief since the fuller story, the MUCH fuller story, can be told at another time, I deem. And many of our company here know much on these subjects. So I shall continue with a quick description of my journey home to Joth aboard the Visund. I deem, ’twill explain much of the background to the tale and also explain why I have such a depth of knowledge.”

Feteran prompted: “Ursula?”

“Indeed so, Commander. I shall cover that as deeply as I may!” He shot the Commander a meaningful look which was received with a silent “Oh!” and a slow nod. I’m almost certain of that but it was done so subtly I doubt anyone else noticed. I was doubting of it myself and soon lost that track as the other subject grabbed my full attention.

“As for the word ‘trio’. This is an English word that means a group of three. Strangely, that word is of Roman – or, as you call them, Chivan - origin where they used the word ‘tres’ for three.”

Marilin looked round at the other guildsmen that Senidet and Milsy had recruited into our household. Both Morkem and Havelin were gazing at him with jaws dropped. Senidet, Milsy, Jenet too were all paying the closest of attentions and Commander Feteran showed himself to be avidly interested, as did the off-duty guards who were also seated with us.

Everyone waited for the Tenant to resume.

Which he did after swallowing another mouthful of wine.

“Some already know, but, to set the scene properly, I will assume that none do. I beg the indulgence of those already with the necessary knowledge.

“Princess Eriana arrived from Einnland nearly a year ago, with her ship the Visund, and her powerful crew. After a … colourful … few months, during which they became Palarandi citizens and fought hard in the war, they became a regular part of the military forces, not so much called upon once the war was over. Now, at that time, I myself had been here in Palarand for various reasons, including the marriage of the Prince and Princess, along with my Duke and some others from Joth. When we discovered that Her Highness intended to explore the upper levels of the river here in the Great Valley, we decided to return to Joth by travelling upriver aboard the Princess’ vessel.

“Amongst several adventures we had actually getting to Joth, one was the discovery of the woman we named Ursula who also came from ... let us say NEAR to where I originated. And near to where Princess Garia originated as well, of course.”

I felt rather than heard Feteran sigh at that, but did not concentrate on that distraction.

“If you ever meet Mistress Ursula, you will hear what I said earlier - she speaks English with a different accent from mine, and she employs some differences in the use of her words, but as I said, this language is supposedly the easiest to learn.” His voice changed to a slightly sterner tone at that point. “There is another side to it though. I mentioned that they also say that English is the HARDEST language to use properly. I doubt we shall need to get that advanced, though.”

His tone softened as directed his gaze and remarks more directly to me. “As I understand it, your job will be simply to bring people up to a standard that they can then understand the written and spo… er... printed information on the materials that Her Highness shall bring back with her.”

As he said that, I noticed a flicker in his eyes as he stumbled over that word in the middle. I was sure he was going to say ‘spoken’ but that would be crazy for Her Highness couldn’t possibly read aloud all that I had been told she would bring back. And not everybody would be able to remember it all after hearing it just the once.

Suddenly I realised that probably his stumble was because he used a word combination out of habit and then realised that it was inappropriate.

Everyone appreciated that the Tenant had left open many threads for later discovery and explanation, but were content, at that moment in time, to allow the basic statements to remain unexpanded.

Meanwhile, over the course of several evening meals, he and Gullbrand, with whom Princess Eriana was in irregular touch by letters, kept us amused and informed of several of Her Highness’ adventures as she travelled up the incredible Sirrel. But more of that journey later, I must first explain how MY education progressed.

/// /// /// /// /// ///

So it was that, two mornings later, it all began.

He started talking to us at first with simple sentences, to get us used to the sounds, rhythms and cadences of this new language. He would begin by saying something in our normal language, Valleyspeak as it was more widely known, and then saying the same thing in the English. Most of these new words he used were easy to pick up and our vocabulary expanded almost without us even realising it. Sentences were short. Not all were sensible; a fact that he acknowledged meant the words should be noted with what he called “a bit of give and take.”

Which required him to then explain what he meant by that.

Which got complicated - until, all of a sudden, it clicked somehow in my head.

I mentioned that, to my mind, he was very clever in his approach, in his strategy of talking to us first before we even considered writing and reading. But his cleverness wasn’t just confined to that. He usually picked up on our general conversations over the evening meals and he incorporated some of those into the next day’s lessons, so we got answers to many questions – twice! Or even thrice! (For some reason, that English word ‘thrice’ seemed to call to me somehow and for a long, long while, it became my favourite.)

Let me just try to illustrate that point about a plurality of answers. I shall choose one example: we had been talking about Blackstone one evening, in Valleyspeak at the time, a subject which fascinated Maralin as he had not yet been outside the Great Valley itself. He could not, or so it seemed to us, get enough and thus questioned us closely. I doubt I did the subject justice but did manage to get him to understand the length of the Bray/Palar river valley. And some of the diversity to be found along its length.

“… take us a minimum of a week to return to our head of the valley. I certainly would not like to repeat the haste with which we descended, that was uncomfortable in the extreme. I hope our poor frayen have recovered properly.” I gasped suddenly. I had given no thought to dear Trumpa for a long while but now his name had come up, I immediately found I was missing the dear old thing really quite fiercely.

But to get back to the Tenant and how he used such conversations. He realised that we were almost as thirsty for knowledge about the Great Valley as he was about the Palar and Bray, so the next day he started his lessons by first giving us a little lecture in the Palarandi – sorry, Valleyspeak – tongue. He illustrated this lecture on a chalkboard and just the knowledge he imparted then was so valuable to me, indeed to all of us.

“As you all know, the Great Valley is fifty or sixty marks wide between two mostly clearly defined edges, or walls really. We have all seen one or both of these walls on a clear day. All right, they aren’t straight and unbroken walls; side streams and rivers, some rock falls, years of harsh weathering have all made their effects obvious, and there are several major trade roads that work their way up from the Great Valley floor into the mountains that exist on either side.

“What is less well known is that the length of the Valley is quite a few hundreds of marks. Much more than ten times the distance between the walls.”

He paused there for the easily-forecast gasps from his audience, which duly arrived.

And he got even more after his next statement: “With a length that is at least ten times the width of the Great Valley then that all means that Yod is positioned closer to us right now than the half-way point. And Yod is close to two hundred marks distant! Which I am now given to understand approximates to the distance from here to Blackstone.”

He looked around at us as we all struggled suddenly with not just the calculations, but also the concept. Again, I was unaware of my surroundings until a sudden … light, I suppose, seemed to come on in my head. I found myself nodding. His chalk outlines on the slate board helped my brain immensely, so I assume it did the same for the others. (Older Julina: Not that I can actually ever remember us talking about that; that thought only just occurred as I wrote up these notes.)

“Way back in the Chivan times, I find it easier to imagine in my mind that there was a main trade route running down each edge of the Valley at the foot of the walls, and one down the middle. The middle one of course would have to cross and re-cross the Sirrel as that river weaved its own way, bouncing first off one wall before diving across the valley floor only to then bounce off the other wall. Now the river itself doesn’t go in a straight line as it dives across the Valley, so there are irregularly shaped countries and islands created on the way.”

He dashed a few more lines on his crude map – which he was at great pains to point out was not particularly accurate. But his simple description enabled most of us to grasp quite easily a mind-picture of the valley we lived in.

“Many of the countries in the Valley have capitals that are positioned historically from the days before the river changed its banks, which it has done time and time again. So the trade route used also tends to wander from a purely straight road along the Valley floor.

“And that forcibly reminds us that the river isn’t still either. It cuts and carves wider bends, some short cuts and so on. Any student of Palarandi history knows about the Great Flood and, much later, the absorption by Palarand of the old countries of Brikant and Kendeven. And of course that the Crescent Lake is itself the old river course.

“This constant alteration of course, along with weathering and rockfalls and so on has meant that the trade routes that used to run along the sides of the valley have now all but disappeared. But they still exist in Palarand as it happens, although at one point long ago the river cut into the wall itself …” he pointed to where his crudely drawn Crescent Lake actually touched the mark he had made representing the valley wall, “... so travellers on that side of the Valley now need to take a pair of Crescent Lake ferries to maintain their course.” He waved his hand at the appropriate places on his chalky chart. “Even so, that is still the better route for accessing Plif on the estuary mouth from countries further upstream.

“So Palarand is the stopper in the flask of the Valley and has lands on both sides of the river valley as well as in the middle of the Valley itself. No traffic that comes downvalley can avoid crossing into Palarand at some time if they wish to travel further to say Plif or Vardenale.

“The next country immediately upstream of Palarand is Brugan. And in many ways Brugan can be considered to be a key country for all the trade that comes downstream. Some might say it’s THE key country rather than just a key country.”

Using his finger as a pointer, he illustrated his talk as he went along, pointing out the relevant things on his crude map. “Once a traveller going downvalley has reached Brugan, then there is a decision to be made. The Plif-bound traffic tends to go off to the Valley Wall and cross into central Palarand at the ferry which plies between Fia’s Wood on the Brugan side and the village of Wallside on the Palarandi side. Wallside itself has gradually moved with the river bank and so isn’t actually at the foot of the wall any more. From Wallside the route follows the foot of the wall all along the Valley up to the Crescent Lake ferries. As it does so it passes through the Moxgo Cross, where the cross-mountain route goes up to the right, up to The Lookout and on all the way to Moxgo. To the left at this crossing, the route goes across the floor to Moxgo Junction where a traveller would turn either right to go to Palarand City or left to Brikant.

“But back to Brugan. The more heavily used route heads from Brugan up to the village of Beress. This is a village in which there are several businesses associated with trade. At Beress the traveller has another decision to make. Go right, drop down the short, sharp hill to the river bank and the ferry across to Terban to get to Brikant and onto to Palarand City via the Moxgo Junction I mentioned earlier; or keep to the left of Beress and head off towards Dekarran and the Palar Valley.

“In fact, at certain times of year, when ’tis still too dangerous to use the ferry from South Slip direct to Dekarran, then a wagon from Palarand City would need to travel to Dekarran via Moxgo Junction, Brikant, Terban, cross the river and then reach the junction at Beress.

“I shall mention here in passing that many travellers mistakenly name the ferry from Terban as crossing to Beress, but in fact the Brugan side of the ferry is situated at an unnamed slip, separated from Beress itself by that slope and a thick stand of trees. ’Tis my guess that in a few years time, Beress will have expanded sufficiently to make that misnaming more accurate!

“On the road from Beress to Dekarran, the Therel River here tumbles down from the mountains above and cuts across to join the Sirrel. The steep and narrow valley down which it flows carries also a trade route that goes many, many marks across to Davenarga, via the Therel Vale to the Kingdom of Shald at first. This confluence of the two rivers is basically the border between Brugan and Palarand, although in all actuality the way the roads run means that the border posts are a little distance removed from the actual river.”

Thus can you, the reader of these scribbles of mine, see that his topic for the English lesson that day also satisfied parts of our great curiosity about the Great Valley.

He then wiped the blackboard slate completely clean and started again, drawing and saying exactly the same things once more but this time in English, and much slower.

A lot later, I asked him, on one day just before the rains stopped: “How can you get the words exactly the same each time you say something in different tongues? By which I mean, how can you remember what you said so accurately?”

“I wish I knew! Since my arrival here, I have discovered that my memory has somehow been enhanced. I can even remember lessons I had in school to which I paid no heed whatsoever. I can remember the technical names of sentence construction, grammar, punctuation, everything! The tenses of verbs. All that sort of stuff which I didn’t even know I knew until I came to think of it, came to need it.”

Now I have concentrated on this episode, this example, in order to give you a flavour as to how events transpired. And how intelligent the Tenant was. He parcelled out our language learning allowing our brains to work on it even while we did other things. We didn’t get tired of it all, as we would have done had we kept at it from dawn to dusk.

Some little things I picked up during those language lessons struck something in my head in such a way that I can still remember them. There were several reasons that these snippets stuck so vividly, so ’twould be impossible for me to mention them all, lest I go on and on for page after page. Perchance you would allow me to give a simple example of this point.

This one made me think about our own language and realise a point about it which I had never before considered. For we did the same thing!

His words were: “ … and also to get an appreciation of the importance of where the emphasis is placed.”

(Older Julina: For some other strange reason, I also really liked that English word ‘emphasis’ when he introduced it.)

“The SPOON was in the pot is totally different in meaning to the spoon was in the POT. Each sentence gives a different implication even though the same six words are employed in the same order. And then consider the following: The spoon WAS in the pot.”

All this description might seem a little confusing, but, as I trust you will appreciate, it would not be clearer if I were to keep to a strict timeline type of presentation.

The language lessons were not the only valuable things I learnt from the Tenant. I also learnt some considerations I should take into account for when the Consociation opened up. And also some things to help make our times in the kitchens more efficient.

And I was not the sole recipient of his breadth of knowledge, he gave a few valuable technical pointers to several of our Guildspeople.

But for me, for now, I shall concentrate just upon what I learnt from him.

For instance, we laughed at first as there was some confusion about the use of the word ‘course’.

One meaning was as a plate in a dinner, so we might serve a 4-course dinner, each course being served on a fresh plate. Whereas another meaning of ‘course’ was as a sequence of lessons, related in some way. And students would arrive to do a particular course, say on sauces or the like, where each lesson was on one particular sauce but the whole group of lessons – the entire course – was all about many sauces.

He made me think hard about what topics should be covered in what course and to realise that I couldn’t hope for success if I were to try to do everything at first.

And, he added at the end, there were yet other meanings of ‘course’, of course.

He also often lent a hand as we prepared the meals. And in fact he sneaked in some extra English lessons when we were there! By using my everyday utensils, I started out learning the new English names for things with which I was so very familiar.

We didn’t have English lessons every day, Tenant Maralin had other duties in the Palace apparently. As I mentioned before, he came roughly every three days after that initial burst. But that was implying too much regularity. Sometimes he came two days consecutively, sometimes there was a gap of nearly a week. But by the time the sun came out again, we were all quite proficient, helped along by being able to chatter amongst ourselves.

At much irritation to others close by us, we went through an extended phase of speaking in sentences containing two languages. When we first started to talk amongst ourselves in English, then we were all giggling with embarrassment, but that phase didn’t last long.

/// /// /// /// /// ///

The Tenant had replied to my request to expand his audience with an expression which took me a long, long while to appreciate: “The more the merrier” he had said, and had repeated it slowly and concisely several times. It stuck firmly in my head then. But as this had been in English, I couldn’t even begin to understand it at that time. But I knew enough to be aware that this was some form of approval of the idea.

As a result, this soon meant that we had a short period (which gradually grew longer) each night over the dinner table when English was to be the ‘main’ language. The three young Guildsmen were busy during the day and had soon become very enthusiastic about our ‘English Moments’, for they were keen to advance their knowledge in any way they could.

I do not wish to be selfish and report on only my own, or my Blackstone colleagues’, activities – there were several others in our Hotel and in Blackstone House and I naturally received several reports of their activities, either directly from them, or from others who had some knowledge. After having considered everything, we were all mostly cooped up while the skies above emptied themselves in great gouts, so ’twas scarce surprising that we chatted and talked of other matters.

Wyzen and Morkem, of course, were mostly involved with furthering the developments, and increasing the production, of the Walking Canopies. A third young man had been given lodging with us to aid these two. I have mentioned him before – his name was Havelin. Quite often, of an evening, these three … lads, I suppose I could call them … would gather with Milsy, Tarvan and/or Senidet and they would jabber away on various technical topics as well as talk about several colleagues.

But that Havelin was very swiftly obsessed. Consumed it could be said.

Not even Tenant Maralin could dissuade him from his avowed intent.

Havelin was convinced that he could make a wagon that was pulled along the roads by a steam engine mounted on its own back! I suspect that I was at least partly to blame for this obsession since I had held forth over the dinner table, one evening early on in Havelin’s stay with us, all about the railroad and the developments I had witnessed and learnt about before arriving here in Palarand City. I had also described seeing that funny boat thing buzzing about on one of the ponds or lakes as we came down the Palar valley.

So Havelin spent as many minutes as he could over in the big barn trying to develop his idea in his time away from the Walking Canopy production. But he was also torn between that and learning English and talking technical stuff with Senidet, Milsy, Tarvan, Wyzen and Morkem. Maralin often contributed to these discussions and I had the feeling that his knowledge was greater than he showed, that he was sort of nudging the others into this or that course of action – but I could never really point to some specific instance of that happening.

Havelin would not be deflected from his self-imposed task though, even while acknowledging the Tenant’s point that such a wagon would of necessity also require a huge water tank and a store of coal to keep the fires burning. He seized upon the Tenant’s confirmation that such a wagon would be possible. And was glad when Maralin confirmed that such a vehicle would be immensely valuable as an extremely strong puller or pusher.

We all enjoyed his reports of his ‘progress’ and the difficulties he had encountered and in one way or another overcome or by-passed. I silently remarked that I was glad Pyor was not about, as Havelin managed to destroy several wagons in his experiments.

I remember one night, when we hadn’t a particularly full house to dinner, that started as an evening of hilarity. It began with Gullbrand describing the journey of a letter sent by Princess Eriana downvalley from wherever she had reached containing instructions for Djerk of all people, and his colleague Maarku. The way Gullbrand related the story had everyone in tears of laughter and I shall attempt to reproduce his tale shortly, but for the moment I am describing young Havelin.

Havelin was probably infected by the roars of laughter that Gullbrand’s story had elicited, so he made his ‘progress report’ that night in a similar fashion. Before that, none of us had had any idea that the young man had a lighter side to his nature.

He started it off by complementing the kitchen team that had produced such a fine evening meal and continued surprisingly, indeed shockingly, with a joke (of sorts). “I don’t know how you all manage to cook such tasty and satisfying food every e’en. I personally only manage to burn everything whenever I have attempted such a task. I even manage to burn water!

“I am aware that I normally go back across to the ‘workshop’ each evening to toil upon my tasks, which I confess has been accurately described by some around this table as an obsession, but am unable to do so upon this occasion for I have very little upon which to work, not having had time to prepare the latest arrival.”

One of the guards by the door started to cough and I was getting quite worried before I realised he was trying to suppress laughter. And soon, after a little thought, we were all grinning at Havelin’s monumental understatement.

We actually had a new guest at dinner that night, a wagoneer, barely an adult, named Nim and who had been sent by the Palace to bring yet another wagon for Havelin to destroy. The poor lad had twisted his ankle after dropping off the wagon and Dilvia the healer had told him to keep off the ankle for a good two days. Despite the rains, we had sent a messenger to his home and his employers and Havelin had been allocated to be his companion and to support him when he needed to move around here in our home. We had placed one of the smaller rooms on the ground floor at his disposal and equipped it with a comfortable chair, a small table and a bed which could be pushed out of sight during the day. It was obvious that this was for him complete luxury which made us all think there was something far deeper in his background.

As we got to know him during the first full day, all of us, Havelin included, started to get irate at the tales Nim told of his home life, where he had been dismissed as a simpleton and had never been fed a decent meal. His father had died and his elder brother had assumed the headship of the house. Both the brother and his only other relative, his mother, had deemed him to be an idiot and thus not worthy of any consideration. When he wasn’t busy having been ordered to do simple tasks, he was generally ignored. We discovered that actually he had a very receptive mind and was simply in need of some education, however simple.

When we rose from table though, one night after his arrival, everything of this nature changed. Most of us had left the dining room when there came a thunderous knocking at the door. I was nearest to it and was reaching to open it when Gullbrand shouted “No!” I stayed my hand immediately, turning to him with a question written loudly in my face.

Then, with Gullbrand’s permission, Tenant Maralin took charge with a forceful and decisive display at odds with his normal gentle nature. The two leaders were extremely doubtful that the claim from without as being from the City Watch was actually genuine. When they mentioned it, I too began to see why they hesitated. They tried to usher all the women into the kitchens, but I refused to go, explaining that my, albeit little, skill at unarmed combat might prove helpful as it would be a great surprise should I need it. Maralin decided to let me stay, probably because time was slipping away rapidly and a response was already overdue should all this be genuine. Later he scolded me, explaining that I was too valuable an asset to Palarand to be placed in any potentially dangerous situation, a viewpoint forcefully endorsed by Feteran once he had been given the details.

When I was finally allowed to open the door, I was almost knocked to the floor as the leader of a band of three men barged forcefully into our spacious entrance hallway, announcing himself as Captain Maximus of the City Watch.

And he also said that he was there to arrest Nim, who had supposedly murdered his mother earlier in the day. At that point, we all knew he was lying because Nim had been with us for the entirety of the day. And we thus all knew immediately that this was not a proper visit from the Watch.

The next half an hour was hectic in the extreme, ending with the lying leader being knocked out and confessions from the other two that made us understand that the unconscious leader was in fact Nim’s brother. And that the horrible man had murdered his own mother and was trying to get Nim arrested for the crime.

Insufficient research on his part had now enabled him to be captured; if he had done some more research and planned better, then maybe he would have got away with it, but his arrogance and misplaced sense of superiority led to his downfall. Later, when the rains had ceased, the King took a very dim view of his behaviour and his execution was the first one ordered when life had returned to more normality. His two accomplices had been marked and sentenced to a year’s hard labour; however their families were looked after for them.

After the tumultuous incursion, the least we could do was to offer Nim some education and subsequently both accommodation and employment. He and Havelin struck up a mutual friendship, enjoying as they did each other’s company, and the two men were soon sharing accommodation closer to the Palace. Gullbrand and Waxerwet acted for Nim in the sale of the family’s plot of land and invested the coin so raised in Nim’s name.

There were several other ramifications from this unfortunate and unwarranted intrusion which I shall mention some other time, if I remember, but this subject is now dragging me ever farther from the theme of this tale I had envisaged when I commenced.

/// /// /// /// /// ///

As you will have remarked, we usually had a quite large group of us every evening around the dining table and naturally over the days and weeks we talked about a myriad of subjects.

Things ranging everywhere it seemed from the difficulties of obtaining fresh supplies and the problems that caused, to the plans already set in motion to develop a home base that shall be the hub of what they shall call the Navy at the old ferryport and under-utilised riverport at Sheldane; the place where the Yodan invasion had landed. Talking of these things made us feel far more important to Palarand than we were in all actuality.

Let me now concentrate more upon just one of those topics, one which was quite fascinating to us all.

With the frequent (and yet still occasional as opposed to regular) presence of Tenant Maralin and Sarjant Varran and the almost regular presence of Gullbrand, this topic was really quite well covered – the upriver voyage of the Visund undertaken under the ‘command’ (for want of any better word) of Princess Eriana.

Yes, the information we received was all about events that had happened some weeks beforehand and aside from not being fresh, we were made aware that a lot of it might not be fully detailed, maybe even just a little inaccurate, being as how we were receiving reports of reports and sometimes even reports of reports of other reports.

Maralin had been aboard the vessel all the way up to Forguland and so could relate first hand some of the details that Gullbrand could generally confirm, the latter having received a few notes from the Princess when she found time to send him an occasional progress report.

Maralin explained that he himself learnt bare information about some later events from a variety of sources up to and including the King himself, who was being informed on a regular basis by Lord Kalmenar, as could only be expected. Maralin also received some limited news via Duke Wallesan back in Joth who was also being kept in intermittent touch. We were not quite sure why the King himself would discuss such matters with a mere foreign Tenant, but we knew the Tenant’s origins gave him some exalted access rights.

Currently, no-one knew where exactly the Visund and her company were all sheltering from the rains. As Gullbrand once said: “They could be all the way up in, say, Faralmark which was their original minimal target or anywhere between there and Sheldane down here in Palarand, which is where the new base is to be completed.

“The rains reportedly came a little early this year, not that I would be able to tell, so communications from upriver, which were taking more than a week, sometimes two or even three, were cut off abruptly. I must doubt that they reached Palarand though for if they had indeed just managed to squeeze in the time to reach Sheldane, then, although the rains would by then have cut off the semaphore, I would still have expected an urgent message to have been despatched via some poor Valley Messenger, if only to set the King’s mind to rest. I have no doubt we shall all be inundated with messages once the rains ease and the Valley Messenger Service can properly recommence their excellent activities.”

I must say at this point that such were the skills of the narrators of each of the incidents, we felt we were almost with them whilst afloat.

We were amazed at the discovery of that Ursula - that filled us with amazement and a host of questions. When Feteran remained mostly silent, I realised that the two men must have discussed this matter more privately somewhere and somewhen.

Then we were incensed at the treatment by that awful Duke Jarwin. There were some very tight lips around the table when that unsavoury adventure was related. If Commander Feteran ever gets near the man, I am sure blood will be spilt.

Later we were also shocked by the attack of the river monster. Not a few of us were imbued with a scare of the river after that. I still have qualms to this day of using a ferry.

We were pleased, however, to hear that a relatively safe haven was found in Joth for repairs to the ship and the crew and we all approved of Eriana’s subsequent stopping to honour her fallen just across the water. We all found ourselves thanking Maralin and Varran as representatives of the welcoming Joth, so closely were we by now associating with the voyage of the Visund.

Around that time, it transpired, the Princess also met the men she had been forced to leave behind due to injuries. Some of them had married local girls in the meantime and there were a few to-be-expected pregnancies as a result.

And that gave rise to the most amusing tale Gullbrand had recounted of the letter the Princess had sent, a subject I referred to earlier.

As most of us knew well, a Royal Party had been up to Blackstone to visit and two of Princess Eriana’s men had accompanied that … expedition, let’s call it. There were also two of Prince Torulf’s men-at-arms along, but we are concerned only with the Princess’ men at this juncture. The two men sworn to the Princess were Djerk and Maarku.

So the Princess decided that her two men should head upriver, but on frayen of course, as soon as they reached Dekarran in order to escort the wounded men and their families back to Palarand, she correctly judging that the open-decked Visund would be no place for pregnant women and/or babies.

( Older Julina:Now I have to point out here that at the time of this event, she had merely the one vessel with her so maybe her decision might have been changed had she then known of any additions she was soon to get – well soonish anyway.)

So she penned a letter with her instructions to Djerk and Maarku and gave it to Tenant Maralin to forward to Dekarran once he returned to Joth. He duly sent it to Countess Merizel to hand to the men when they arrived (which they had done the day we set up the Brewery Company when I was still up there in Blackstone!) Of course that meant that Princess Eriana needed to explain it all to the Countess as well.

Let me interject here by saying that as Gullbrand related the tale, his timing, phrasing and twinkling in his eyes as well as the … contortions ... he made of his face gave rise to much merriment and we were all enthralled by his … performance! Yes, that’s the right word – performance. But let me continue ...

The letter was sent from Joth (or nearby) to Dekarran, a long journey of many days. However, in her haste, Princess Eriana had written the letter in Norse - which the Countess was unable to read.

Now, as we all are aware, Dekarran is a lot nearer to Palarand City than it is to Joth, so the Countess decided to send the letter to Gullbrand to translate, knowing that she would therefore receive a reply as soon as would be humanly possible and certainly a lot more swiftly than returning it to the Princess who may even have travelled on by then.

Gullbrand received the latter and its accompanying explanation requesting a rapid reply. Which reply he duly formulated and he sent the needed translation back to Dekarran within a week of it being originally received there.

He told us all this in such a way that all our faces were wreathed in smiles as the story progressed.

But the original had been sent in Norse you shall remember. Which is a language that the Countess was insufficiently practised with to be able to copy. So she had sent the original to Gullbrand.

Who had thought it to be a mere copy.

“So, by that point in time, we had a situation that everyone concerned understood what was required by Her Highness,” explained a mostly serious Gullbrand before sipping a little wine.

His face changed quite suddenly. “Well, nearly everyone!” said Gullbrand as he grinned engagingly. “All except the two absent Norsemen to whom the letter was actually addressed!”

We all laughed at that moment.

He continued: “They were still upvalley from Dekarran, by quite a long way.”

Again a pause and an engaging grin: “Which was fortunate, as it happened, because the Countess realised that they would need the instructions in their own language when they arrived. So she had to send a further message to me to return the Norse version as soon as I could.”

And yet again he grinned, but this time in a slightly embarrassed way, as he said: “Now this is where my small error came to light.” We all could do nothing other than laugh at him as he pulled a wry face.

As he subsequently smilingly explained: “I had by then thrown the original away, believing it to be a copy and that the Countess still retained the original. So I had to ask her to send me a copy of my translation so I could take that and translate it back into Norse!”

We all laughed out loud at that point.

And so the translated letter was sent back once more to Palarand for Gullbrand to repeat the instructions in the Norse script. Which he duly did and sent the entire packet back to Dekarran, finally washing his hands of the whole matter.

“Or so I thought!” he continued after a pause left long enough for us all to believe the tale had come to its conclusion.

“That was my undoing, I suppose. Thinking that is!”

We all gawped at him, this quiet, gentle, benign but firm man who was in command of us all, well in command in a civilian sort of way. Waxerwet smiled indulgently at him and we all noticed her take his hand – a hand that was not immediately withdrawn.

“For a thought crossed my mind about a week later.” Again he paused, his audience all waiting for his explanation. He waited long enough for some eager anticipation to build.

“Can Djerk and/or Maarku actually read and write?”

Oh how we laughed!

/// /// /// /// /// ///

I hope I have managed to convey to you how we passed the time whilst the heavens emptied themselves outside. Yes, we were cooped up most of the time. Yes, occasionally tempers flared. But now I look back upon that period, it really wasn’t that bad.

I had plenty of time to experiment with new recipes, and made what preparations I could for my uncertain future, aspects of which were still worrying me. I tried out some teaching techniques on some of the girls ‘locked up’ with us and confirmed my suspicions that young Heliga had good talent, showing great promise in her grasp of some basic things like methods of cooking and cutting. It was difficult to evaluate her on the choosing of foodstuffs, since we so rarely ventured out, and even more rarely did we do so together.

She however taught ME something, something to which I rapidly became addicted – yes, I DO mean addicted.

We were fooling around in the kitchens, trying out some things in a very experimental way; me and four or so others.

“Obviously, we should only cook food that is beneficial to the health of the person eating; there should be a mixture of things, vegetables, meats, sauces and so on lest the fare becomes boring. Also obviously, the main thing that makes a meal a good meal is the taste of it. Secondly comes the smell of it. If it smells bad or tastes bad, then the eater will be put off. I have also noticed that some diners are sometimes put off by the FEEL of their food. Now I don’t necessarily mean that they should investigate it with their fingers, or spread it over their skin or anything, I mean whether it is too hard, too dry, too soft, too crunchy and so on. You could almost say that a good meal appeals to all the senses!”

We passed onto another topic as I showed them how to prepare something else and almost forgot about that little episode. I remember we got a good amount of praise later, once the meal had been consumed.

However, the next day, when I announced the menu plan for the day, Heliga diffidently asked: “Mistress Julina?”

Now that put me on alert, for normally she called me simply ’Lina. “Yes Heliga?”

“You know I have cooked all these proposed dishes several times before and you have even been kind enough to praise me on occasion.”

“That is so.”

“Well would you allow me to go and work on one of the dishes in a remote corner with no peeping from anyone? I have had an idea I would like to test before announcing it.”

Intrigued, I of course allowed her her privacy and worked on with the others after watching Heliga select small quantities of each of the foodstuffs we would later serve up. I could not help myself during the next few bells as I kept glancing over at her turned back. When she left her station she hung up some kitchen cloths to hide her endeavours so we all kept our promises. She occasionally came over to ‘steal’ a spoon of this vegetable or that sauce.

I was at the point of checking the numbers of plates required (for the third time), just before putting the meal together for serving, when Heliga called me over.

“Would you please try this main course I have prepared, ’Lin… er… Mistress?” she said as she held out a plate that did indeed resemble those we were about to put together for our several hands of diners. The meat was on it, the vegetables and the sauce, all piled in the centre of the plate to make it easier for the servants to refrain from dropping anything off. I scanned it hard, looking for some difference but nothing sprang out at me.

I shot a glance at her, not only wondering at her insistence at the stiff formality but also at her endeavours in her private corner. “Certainly, Mistress Heliga,” I replied, emphasising the formality; which I noticed elicited a small but fleeting grin.

I took out my fork and unwrapped the cloth from around it. Using a knife, I cut off a bite-sized piece and leant forward to let my mouth receive the offering. As entirely expected, it tasted fine, just as we had always done it. “This is very good, Heliga. But what do you imagine is any different?”

She held up a finger and turned round, taking my fork with her. “Please don’t peek yet.”

After doing something hidden with my fork and a knife (her actions were plain to see even with her turned back blocking my full view), she turned once more and proffered me the now reloaded fork.

Obviously she wanted me to try this new morsel, so I did. I frowned. “This tastes just the same, just as good. What have you been doing all this time?”

By now, all the others had gathered together just behind me.

She pointed to the plate of food she had first offered me, then turned and tore down her makeshift curtaining, revealing a second plate which she picked up and placed next to the first.

We all gasped.

“Now which plate would you prefer to eat?”

I swallowed to help me close my mouth which had dropped open with wonder.

“Definitely the second!” A thought struck me suddenly: “The two plates DO contain the same food?”

“Oh yes! Exactly the same. And exactly the same amounts, take and give.”

I had to say it: “This, Heliga, is BRILLIANT. Well done! How on Anmar did you manage to think of this?”

“Well, you said the other day that someone could almost say a good meal appeals to all the senses! I wasted some time trying to include hearing but my feeble brain failed to find anyway to do that. But now we have taste, smell, touch and sight. Four out of five isn’t bad, I deem!”

“Oh yes! The LOOK of the food, arranged as you have so cleverly done, and topped with tiny sprinkles of leaves and so on makes it all so much more attractive. Congratulations!”

I turned to the others and said: “Right then, we have a new way of setting out the plates so that will take a little longer now to get them ready. Let me go and announce to the diners that they should attend now at table, and I will come back and help. One of you start chopping up some of those leaves into small bits. Let Heliga show you how.”

This meal we served up proved to be a huge success and Heliga almost burst into flames as she blushed with all the complements she was given.

And so was born what is now the thing most people assign to me and the Consociation! I weary from the need to correct people and mention Heliga.

/// /// /// /// /// ///

I have mentioned that episode in some detail as it leads onto, once again, the English lessons.

Heliga had misused one of the Tenant’s expressions and that version we had all unthinkingly adopted. I learnt how difficult it was to rid one’s brain of things that were mistaken and yet had become lodged there.

The correct expression was supposed to be ‘give or take’ or ‘an amount of give and take’ but Heliga had said ‘take and give.’ Oh how difficult it was to get the correct version to settle into my brain. There were other such little errors that crept into our speech but I deem that one was the one most difficult to unlearn.

To finish this narrative, I must mention that I was very slow on the uptake about one thing.

As the availability of Walking Canopies increased, and I suppose the knowledge of them, we received an increasing number of exalted men visiting us to learn some English – to get an early start on things, if you like.

Naturally, Tenant Maralin dealt with most of them whenever he was here, and I must say that he was of great assistance. Some of these men, nearly all Questors as they used to be called, were enthusiastic but the odd one was extremely reluctant. We had all shades in between.

It wasn’t until the Tenant told me one day that I was being “a little thick!” when I queried this.

I stared at him, half annoyed and half intrigued.

He laughed. “They come for your food as much as for the language. You really do not understand how talented you are in the kitchen, do you?”

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It’s not all fun and games when confined

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Disclaimer:

No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended by the author of this directory which is copyright © 2015 – 2022 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

The references are to the ongoing multi-part tale that throws some light into just how Garia's innovative 'suggestions' are being implemented in the lands awarded to her. These tales are copyright © 2013 - 2022 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

These chapters are a side tale to Penny Lane's great masterpieces “Somewhere Else Entirely” and “The Voyage of the Visund” and of course use some of the associated characters and situations that arise from those stories set in the world called ‘Anmar’.
These main stories were created by Penny Lane, whose stories are also copyright © 2010 - 2022 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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“Why are you two laughing at me? You always try to put me down somehow!” So saying, Davvy crossly stood up from her desk and stormed out of the room, tears welling on her lids.

I was NOT going to have such behaviour, so I too jumped to my feet and stormed after her. “NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME YOUNG LADY! …” I had got as far as that when she slammed the door behind her. I was reaching for the handle when Prevet grabbed my arm. I swung round on her, but before I could roar at her as well, she just said: “Hold, Mistress, hold! ’Tis but frustration that is the cause. She shall come to her senses soon. Let it all cool down for a moment or two. Hasty words now will make but a trivial matter far more serious than it warrants.”

She looked steadily at me, some message in her eyes that I was too incensed to comprehend right at that moment.

We had been alone for the past five days, no visitors, no-one from Blackstone House for meals, no deliveries, no nothing! We had been staring at the same walls, we had exhausted every topic of conversation it seemed. The dim light indoors seemed dusty and stale, the food in the kitchen seemed … boring and uninspiring.

Prevet and I had simply smiled at each other when we saw Davvy use her fingers to tuck her hair behind her ears, hair that she no longer had but the gesture was so strongly engrained that she still did it automatically. ’Twas a simple fond smile of, I had thought, gentleness. But Davvy had exploded in anger.

But also right at that moment, I heard the cheery greetings from Maralin and Varran as they entered from the disrobing room.

And an amazing transformation took place then. I felt lighter somehow, my dangerously bad mood dissipated like early morning mist in the sunlight.

And I belatedly realised that I had reacted badly to Davvy’s misplaced distress. I took immediate steps to rectify that and we were soon hugging each other with some more tears.

And then we dived straight back into learning English, which as it happened was a ‘Good Thing’ because something happened on the next morning; but I shall tell you about that a bit later. Suffice it to say that Maralin had decided to go back to basics as he said yet again: “The stronger the base, the stronger the structure.”

… … …

Later that evening, as we all sat around the dining table enjoying the peace and companionability (I suspect this might be yet another word I have invented!) after another fine meal – not bland at all this one! - Gullbrand started a lengthy explanation, having been asked about the Einnlander origins of their presence here in Palarand.

He started by describing briefly his capital town and the King there, along with hints of the way of life. We women all winced as he described the King’s intentions regarding his daughter, Princess Eriana. He explained the decisions taken to run away from such harshness and then he launched into the tale of their travels.

“After all the trials and tribulations of our journey - a hasty departure, storms, massive waves, pursuit that was steadily gaining upon us - it was sad that three of our number had to die when we eventually managed to come ashore in some sort of safety. Poor Goran, Klaas and Wulf. There were many bruises and sprains and also a few broken bones, but all in all, we were 40 other souls happy to be still breathing.

“We had been 58 aboard when we embarked. Captain Balrik Fork-beard was generous and honourable though, announcing that we were all about to go into exile. He allowed anyone to leave the ship before we cast off and even gave them a handful of coin. Seven took up his offer, the first of which promptly ran along the quayside to alert the authorities that we were about to sail away. This added to the urgency for us to cast off and I personally felt that Balrik delayed a hand of moments too long. A pursuit ship very nearly caught us a day or so later.

“So we were 51 when we sailed, or so we thought. A stowaway was found just as we were about to round the headland that protects Jotlheim and its port so that made 52.

“Captain Balrik’s family had never been to sea before so they clustered closely around him, hampering his easy movements around the ship. His wife and daughter each had a maid, of course, who were even more nervous and clung to their principals in a state of almost permanent fear. His two trusted lieutenants were added to the group to help provide an air of calm and safety. It certainly worked - for a few hours.

“But this large group proved to be a fatal mistake when the first storm arose. The steersman and a crewman were combining to fight the steering sweep when the Captain came over to them for some nautical reason beyond my knowledge. And so all seven of them moved as an unwieldy group. The wind was howling, the sail was down and the men in the belly were all rowing as if the Gods themselves had commanded them. The drumbeats for the rowing cadence were almost impossible to hear, but somehow these men managed to keep an even time as the ship knifed through the confused seas.

“I was looking back at one point and I could scarce credit my eyes. Behind us, a rogue wave reared up and broke across the stern of the ship. One moment the group of nine people were all gathered there and then, in the blink of an eye they were all swept overboard into the hungry depths. We non-rowers were suddenly tasked with bailing the shipped water out, and Tor Magnusson, who had been nearest, ran and grabbed the now-untended steering sweep and swiftly brought the ship under control before it could broach. One moment we were 52 aboard, suddenly we were 43.

“Although we came close to losing several others overboard in the wild days that followed, we managed to keep everyone afloat with us. I had been going to say we managed to keep everyone dry, but none of us were that. It seemed to us that the storms were unrelenting, marching one after the other intent on nothing less than bringing about our doom. The heavy pounding we received took a great toll on us as people and also on the ship itself, with several planks eventually springing, thus allowing water in. At one point we were foundering so we had to ditch our swords and shields just to help the vessel ride a bit higher.

“Then we spotted a low-lying shore, mostly reeds and marshy, muddy banks which we could see more and more clearly as we crept closer and closer – it seemed at first though that there were few if any trees, trees which would be necessary for us to make much-needed repairs. We all knew we had to land as soon as we could, it was unclear just how much longer we could keep the valiant vessel from foundering.

“And so we came ashore in Plif. With a thump that unfortunately three of us failed to survive.

“Almost as if the weather was aligned somehow with our ship, as soon as we were no longer bobbing about (well in all reality ’twas more lurching with all that water sloshing about in the ship’s bilges) at the water’s behest, the weather eased. It was as if the storms fled from us once our keel had kissed the kelp.

“We were no longer bobbing, as I said, but we were also no longer horizontal. The ship was canted over enough to make things awkward as the men first started making a more private area at the prow for the three women. At the same time, others had already scrambled to inspect the hull from outside and soon plans for repairs were being drawn up.

“Meanwhile still more men, four in all, had been tasked with rowing one of the praams along the coast to see if there was any habitation, even hopefully a port, nearby. They first headed east which was into the wind and sea. We all knew this was the natural thing to do since it would make their return easier; but they failed to find any trace of anything or anyone on that first day – much to Her Highness’ intense displeasure. And that despite the fact we had actually sailed past that bit of coast just before our unscheduled and ungainly landing.

“And so it was that the three dozen and four of us spent a less-than-comfortable evening and night living at an angle. An acutely disagreeable angle.

“As mentioned, the women were given some privacy by erecting a sailcloth wall just abaft of the prow and I dare say that made them feel a little less uncomfortable, but I can guarantee that no-one aboard was going to use the word comfort in any association other than longingly during that long and seemingly unending night. It was almost with relief we greeted the noisy chorus produced as the avians sang their aubades to the sun which was wearily heaving itself above the horizon. At least now we didn’t need to pretend to be asleep.

“And then, quite early on on that next day, we heard a hail from inland and saw a wagon drawn by a fearsome creature – one I now know to be a dranakh – with some locals who were generously bringing us some supplies. Once the tricky business of discovering a pathway through the marshy land surrounding us had been completed, then of course Eriana and her maids wanted to go to whatever village these saviours had appeared from and there find some decent rest. So Eriana, Geska and Odgarda accompanied by Lars for some protection, and by myself to help with translations and the like, hitched a ride on the now-empty wagon to meet the local headman, leaving the other 35 men with the stranded ship; four of whom were in the praam again searching this time to the west, so of course they too soon saw the village and port, which excited report they brought back to the stranded ship only to be a little deflated when they found out the others already knew!

“The headman of the village, Mucro, was warily welcoming at first since, as with all sea-faring communities, they understood the problems and privations brought about by a shipwreck. The women were found suitable accommodation and we two men had cot beds in a nearby room, so our sleep was a lot better than it had been just the night before. But Mucro was also concerned by the sudden jump in numbers he might have to feed.

“Whilst we were with Mucro and his village, the weather had moderated sufficiently for the crew left behind to patch and then refloat the Visund and move it down nearer to us. Too large for the tiny fishing port, the ship was beached a little further along the coast but this time with the sides level - thus far more conducive to sleep than they had been.”

Gullbrand then sat back letting all that information wash over us. And giving himself a chance to have a drink!

“But that was in Plif, you say? How then did you all get to Palarand?”

“I deem the full complications of our journey to Palarand City and subsequent acceptance by King Robanar and Queen Terys into the Palace is really a tale for some other time, but I will just say that meeting the now-Princess Garia was MOST beneficial to us all, but particularly so to Princess Eriana. I shall attempt to explain that at some appropriate moment.

“As we are effectively alone here in this house, I shall be somewhat familiar with names otherwise I fear confusion will reign if I keep referring to one or other of the Princesses!

“So Garia made a somewhat surprising suggestion; Eriana, Lars and I discussed it in detail; the King gave some promises and finally Eriana accepted that suggestion and the challenges involved in it. Subsequently, I was despatched to fetch most of her crew who were now billeted in two overall locations back in Plif. One group, the larger of the two, were with the ship as it was patched up, and the other group was in the town of Simbek, which some of you may not know is Plif’s capital.

“We had split the men originally after the advice of the village headman Murco; he had suggested a Princess should have an honour guard after all when paying respects to the country’s leader, Duke Shabreth. We strongly suspected that he also wanted a few fewer mouths to feed from his meagre supplies! With Lars there to make it a ten-man squad, we took with us nine of the crew which of course left 26 men with the ship. The nine extra men were then found billets in Simbek when we moved on to Palarand, Duke Shabreth having found accommodation for them and also conveyances for the five of us.

“And so it stayed like that for the next few weeks as we got to know Palarand, its King and Queen and its Palace.

“And then, as mentioned, I was sent back to Plif to fetch the men. We had decided that we needed enough men to stay with the ship and to bring it when properly sea-worthy to Palarand in general, Dekarran in particular, as the advice we were given was that the Palarandi shipbuilders were the most likely to be able to do a solid and trusted job, Plif being a relatively poor country of mostly fishermen and reed-cutters; and also that, of the Palarandi shipwrights, then the Dekarran men were considered to be nowadays the most skilful.

“So we three - Eriana, Lars and myself - expended much thought about the men we had available. We pored over the crew list and made a selection of those suitable. It was always clear that maybe when I got back to the ship, other factors could have cropped up, so we treated our deliberations as a simple plan, one that was flexible enough to pass muster.

“In the end, I left Adin, Bo, Brodgar, Halvard, Niall, Ormund, Toke, Tor Gunnarson and Tor Magnusson behind to bring the ship to us when they could; the last mentioned being appointed Captain.

“The rest of us left the ship then and made our way to Simbek where we collected the others and, after certain celebrations to begin Yuletide (not that that was what the locals called the period lasting a week and a half from the shortest day), we travelled as surreptitiously as possible to Palarand City where the 26 men were delivered to the Kellend Estate.

“It was deemed unwise to let any Yodan agents or spies know that an unusual fighting force was about, so we had progressed along our journey with a great degree of secrecy. Once at the Kellend Estate, the men all trained enthusiastically although not all were selected for the cross-country trek to Boldan’s Rock – for example Vidrik had been injured when we crash-landed onto the Plif shore and he was not considered to be yet of a sufficient degree of fitness for the rigours of a snow-covered cross-country trek. He had proved himself to be adept at Garia’s new-to-us unarmed combat techniques and so joined Garia’s personal guard.

“Kjellmund and Olof had expressed a desire to learn more of Master Haflin’s arts and so they joined him, the Royal Armourer, to help both the Palace Guard and the Armourer’s forges.

“Sigsten was a tall and capable sailor, indeed one of the better sailors, but Milsy felt he would be the best candidate for helping with the stringing of her wires aloft. He was delighted to be able to learn more of her arcane arts.

“Jorl, Folke, Tor Hakonsson, Orm and Knut were all employed helping build up the Estate for its future use.

“The remaining seventeen all went on that heroic and successful expedition that so set the Yodans on their heels. Sadly, two of them were killed outright – Sten and Gylfi – while Kammon died later of his wounds. Four others – Dakig, Lukku, Matz and Radwan – had to be left behind, too sorely injured to travel back to their new home here. The ten men who did return with Eriana were greeted as heroes, along with the two women guards who also went along.

“So seventeen men set out, ten returned.”

He stopped there as the gravitas of the situation worked its way into his audience’s mindset. We all took a drink and I found myself raising a glass on high. All the others soon followed my action. Gullbrand mouthed a ‘thank you’ to me before continuing.

“Now, the surviving warriors had a sort of triumphant return journey through the several countries in between. Forguland and Ferenis had gladly donated wagons and carriages to make their journey more pleasant. They departed after the pyres of Gylfi and Sten. This was a signal for Eriana to disband officially the force and, for the moment, to retire from the war.

“Their departure was complicated, of course, by the need to reascend to the Fort and collect their frayen and belongings before once again descending after also taking their leave of the five injured men they were leaving behind. As it happened, they had been gone for no more than a few days when poor Kammon succumbed.

“So their first stop was across the Sirrel in Forguland, just at the foot of the scene of their triumphs, but this time to take passage across the water! The next day they crossed the river yet again to Hulmar and made their way, after a strong request from Duke Wallesan, to Joth City itself rather than take the normal trade route direct to Thorn. There they were feted and dined and generally made a fuss of - for, would you believe? - fourteen days!

“All right, yes there were also some practical reasons for that length of stay; Eriana and Duke Wallesan agreed to travel to Palarand in company, for Duke Wallesan had determined he was to go all the way there and might as well travel with the Eriana group. But he first had to set his affairs into order and consider his plans for the countries they would pass through and also the needs he would have when sharing information and having discussions with their leaders.

“After leaving Joth, the enlarged party got to Smordan for their next overnight stop, and then they got as far as Virgulend where they had a further grateful reception and overnighted for two nights. This was then repeated in Brugan after which they departed once more but this time with Duke Bardanar and his retinue also joining them and Wallesan’s group.

“Which meant that their progress became almost painfully slow. It took a day to get to Brikant and then another to get only as far as the Moxgo Junction, where accommodation was tight for the simple reason that there were plenty of others using those facilities too then. Trade caravans didn’t stop travelling just because of a distant war!

“They eventually arrived at the Palace in Palarand in the late afternoon of the following day. There they received a heroes’ welcome, of course, separate from all the other arrivals of the high and mighty who were gathering there for some important meeting. As honoured troops, afterwards they were accommodated with the Palace guard.

“All this was nearly a full month before The Wedding …” we could all hear the capital letters in his speech! “… and I was briefly involved again with Eriana and her men in that intervening time, despite having transferred my expertise and allegiance here to House Blackstone not long after the Einnlander Regiment had departed for Boldan’s Rock and their subsequent heroics. I had been left behind with nothing to do, so I was glad to be of use to someone! I found myself becoming an organiser for Garia rather than for Eriana.

“Now, before I continue, I must just hark back briefly to previous events. You will recall that Eriana, Lars and I had had long and detailed conversations as to who would be brought to the Kellend Estate and who should be left with the ship?”

We all nodded.

“Well, the time had come for the Visund to be shifted to a carefully selected boatyard, chosen after much detailed advice from others, for professional repairs. This entailed much more consideration that might at first be apparent. You may recall we had left nine men with the ship in Plif, but two of them were quite ineffectual, being the ship’s lad, Tor, son of Gunnar, and Adin, the ship’s cook. And so we determined that we should send some of the men to assist, to swell the numbers for this brief passage.

“We could, it seemed to us, choose from those recently returned from Boldan’s Rock or from those who had remained at the Estate. In the end, we decided to send the extra men from the group of Estate workers, the others we felt had travelled widely and thus should be allowed to enjoy their rests. It would also have the added benefit of allowing whoever we chose to see more of the Great Valley and of Palarand.

“King Robanar, or someone in his service at least, had arranged for a ship’s pilot to be engaged so the small party of four - the pilot and Folke, Orm and Knut - were despatched to Plif to bring the Visund and the other men to Dekarran. For once, an uneventful expedition passed with no alarums and the ship duly arrived in Dekarran without any untimely delays.

“Which event caused quite some excitement in Dekarran as no-one had ever seen a ship quite like that! It rapidly became the talk of the town. The authorities there decided that there was too much distraction from gawpers, so they towed the Visund to a large enough shed and kept the vessel mostly hidden from curious eyes, safe inside a shed to which access could be strictly controlled.

“This arrangement suited Tor, son of Magnus, who as Captain was satisfied with all the security arrangements. It also suited the shipwrights for they could progress relatively unhindered. They asked a myriad of questions of course but then, having gained all the necessary knowledge, wanted their unfettered access. Everyone was thus happy with the arrangements – so much so that ALL the Einnlander men departed Dekarran and reached Palarand City in plenty enough time to enjoy The Wedding. I can tell you, those who had been stuck in Plif all that time were amazed and astounded at most of what they saw here in the capital of what has become the richest land in the Great Valley. And they had been amazed enough at seeing Dekarran for the first time!

“In the meantime, the Princesses had been talking and laying plans, Eriana openly wondering about what was to become of her and her men. Garia made a suggestion that the Federation to come would require something she called a Navy; soon discussions, discussions that very swiftly involved even the King himself and the high-powered leaders gathered, revealed that there would probably be two branches of this Navy, one based on the River and another based upon the open ocean.

“This of course rapidly developed into a plan for Eriana to sail up the river in the summer for her to see what the river folk were like and what they might require. It was soon apparent that they should, of course, go in the Visund, which would therefore need some further refitting lest they be caught somewhere by the rains. So the Dekarran shipwrights moved the Visund once more, to another dock for some effective decking to be added – all this being done whilst the Einnlanders were over here in Palarand City.

“Garia had strongly suggested that the Einnlander men were particularly suited to be considered as a ship-bourne warrior force. I confess that I have forgotten the word she used but …”

“Marines!” interjected Maralin, with an apologetic grin.

Gullbrand raised a hand in thanks and nodded his agreement. “That was it, I thank you!”

“Now where was I? Ah, yes! Much more was discussed and in the end it was decided that a Navy base would be constructed at Sheldane where both ocean and river coincided. It would also be useful as it was already an old port and it would be advantageous to minimise interruptions to any of the very important existing ferry slips. They agreed that this would be the destination for the return of the Visund.”

He held up a hand to forestall the obvious question that followed on from that statement. He took the opportunity to take a further sip of liquid which he seemed to usher down his throat with his spread fingers to an obvious delight written large upon his face.

He continued: “As I mentioned earlier, it had been decided by those powers-that-be that Eriana would take the Visund upriver, visiting as many countries as she could. She would thus be able to carry the news of the Federation and could extol its virtues, whilst also carrying certain important documents all the way up to Faralmark, since the Margrave of that land had already joined. The principle objective, as stated earlier, was for Eriana to learn about the river of course with a view to designing what might be needed with regard to this branch of the Navy.

“However, the ship must needs be made ready so the Einnlander men soon returned to Dekarran, or visited for the first time, since ALL the men, not just those who had crewed her, travelled there to fully prepare her for the voyage. The plans though can only be described as being dynamic for the original idea was slowly, or maybe rapidly would be more accurate, being buried. That the voyage would take place was always the idea, but that was being expanded almost daily, it seemed to us. They all got to Dekarran some nine days or so before the eventual departure.”

Gullbrand sighed and sat back in his chair, apparently somewhere lost in his memories.

It was the ‘new’ man Nim who then asked Gullbrand what appeared to be a simple question: “If I may, Milord, …” (no-one could yet break him of the habit of giving everyone he spoke to a title) “… you mentioned that plans that had been made with regard to this Vizand ship thing had been expanded?” His intense and yet puzzled visage told us all that he was struggling a little with all this, and yet he was aware enough that maybe he should explain why he was asking, so he rushed on, saying: “If you’ll pardon my interruption, that is. I am truly fascinated by all this information, but, truth to tell, am a little overawed by it all. And you did say we were keeping things informal this e’en!”

I think there were several around the dinner table that night who were secretly glad of the question, for the flow of detailed information had been threatening to become overwhelming.

Gullbrand sat upright once again and nodded encouragingly at the youngster as he once again took up the reins of the conversation: “Indeed so, young Nim. Garia and Keren were off to visit Blackstone, Robanar was busy with the new Federation and the Einnlanders were effectively lounging around with nothing to do.

“As we said, this expedition was basically to gather information. The first addition to the objectives I have already mentioned. This was to carry documents all the way up to Faralmark. Then another addition was added.

“And for the explanation of that, my throat and mouth shall be grateful if I hand over to Tenant Maralin here to continue with the descriptions!”

I took advantage of that ‘natural’ break in the proceedings to arrange for some more drinks to be served and for several of us females to make a swift dash for the ‘facilities’. I was quite surprised at the almost universal fascination with the story of the Einnlanders and the enthusiasm they all had for Maralin to relate the next part of their tale.

A few moments, nay, sorry, minutes of bustle then occurred before we all sat down once more, our faces turned to our visitor.

“Let me start by thanking Gullbrand for his enlightening and entertaining descriptions of how he and his countrymen came to be here. I will gladly follow his example and dispense with titles as I go along, being as how this is such an informal gathering. I deem this will simplify things greatly.

“As you all know, Duke Wallesan and several of us accompanied the thirteen heroes and heroines from our home in Joth back down to Palarand’s palace. So we naturally got to know them quite well. This is relevant because it seemed a sensible way for us to return to Joth by jumping aboard the ship that was going there – and beyond! And so we became yet another expansion in the plans for the Visund.

“Before we go much further, though, I find us must introduce a strange complication to your understanding, a complication that got me very confused at first. Therefore I wish to explain that confusion from the outset.

“A river, or a stream, or a brook, or a rill, or a bourne – indeed any watercourse – runs downhill, however gentle the slope might be. You all know this but have mayhap never actually thought about that. So a stream starts at the top of the hill and travels down to the bottom. That stream has, of course, two sides. So all streams, all rivers, all watercourses are referenced by this motion and one side is known as the right bank whist the other is known as the left bank. This is ALWAYS referenced to the direction of travel of the water.

“Now, when we returned to Joth aboard the Visund, we were travelling UP stream. So we were facing in the opposite direction to the flow of water. Thus the bank to our left as we went along was called the Right Bank! As you can readily imagine, this was really quite confusing at first.

“You may recall or perhaps already know that Princess Eriana’s brother arrived in Plif with two ships and accompanied Duke Shabreth to Palarand with a large and menacing escort of Einnlanders in order to force Eriana to return to Einnland with him. After various happenings, one of Prince Torulf’s ships was sent back to Einnland to reassure the King there, whilst the other remained here to take Torulf back later, after he had learnt enough of our lands and habits.

“As a result of all this, to help gain more insight, four of his men also joined the Visund on its upriver expedition. They were there to help and observe although it soon became obvious that two of them would NOT be returning with Torulf, fully intending to stay here – and probably to join Eriana’s men.

“Also aboard was a river pilot and two armed guardswomen, different from those who went to Boldan’s Rock, to accompany Eriana. Finally, King Robanar allocated a noble to help Eriana with any required diplomacy as the vessel went from land to land.

“Thus, at departure, we had the three women, twenty Einnlander men from the Visund, four Einnlander men from Torulf’s group, Lord Kalmenar, the diplomat, and the Pilot, Master Prell. That’s 26 men and 3 women in all, to accompany Duke Wallesan, myself and the four troops of the Jothan escort, which squad included Captain Hambran and even Sarjant Varran over there. This amounted then to a ship’s company of 35 in all, three of them women.

“Being on the water opened all our eyes, I deem. We learnt that to make headway against the river, we must sometimes let ourselves be driven back downriver for a short while. This sounds strange but is easy to understand when I explain that the strongest current sometimes changes sides of the river. So, to make decent headway, we need to fight against the weaker currents. And that means we have to change sides of the river from time to time. Which means that sometimes we have to go across the strong current, which takes us downstream for a little bit.”

A breath of sudden understanding was expelled by someone and then a few more until we all understood.

Changing topic slightly, the Tenant began again.

“The Sirrel at Dekarran is quite wide when compared to further upstream and as we went upstream the river narrowed relatively quickly. But that is NOT to say that it is narrow, not by a long way. Up at Joth, ’tis still roughly two marks wide. But by getting our timings correct, we managed to catch the incoming tide and this swept us upstream at a rate that was frankly astounding to those of us unused to such practices.

“The river bends a lot around there, almost doubling back on itself as it sweeps from side wall to side wall. And gradually the tidal influence waned. But the sail on the Visund meant that we need not row all that much. Which was quite important as it happened once we had passed the Brugan Edge Ferry and made a fair distance towards the large bend round the south of Brugan. One of the men, Folke if my memory serves, who would normally be rowing was acting as a lookout when he spotted something on a low-lying sandbank, not really able to be classed as an island.

“As you all know, Princess Garia came to Anmar from another world where knowledge levels are far in advance of those currently here. She gives of that knowledge freely that all Anmarian lives might be bettered. On that world are many countries just as there are here. As it happens I too come from that other world and indeed from the same country as Garia. As this has become open knowledge nowadays, I am not breaking any oaths in telling you this – although there are still some topics I am oathbound NOT to mention.

“But let me return to our voyage, where, despite working our way against the current of the mighty river, we happened to have an increased number of men available to keep watch. Folke called an alert and pointed to a small lump of dried mud, just slightly above the water level, upon which we all then saw something unexpected.

“Lying there, in the middle of the Sirrel, was something that upon closer inspection proved to be another transferee from Earth!

“This time, she came from another country to that of Garia and I, but she can nevertheless speak our language. After the usual initial confusion we have all experienced, she seems to have settled down to life on Anmar. For various reasons, we named her Ursula and that name has been accepted and used by her.

“She chose to continue with the Visund rather than settle in Joth and so I do not know whether or not she remains with the ship, since we have heard nothing from them since before the rains commenced. The last message we had, or at least about which I have been told, is from just after they started a return journey and it suggested that they might have cut things a little short in attempting to get all the way back to Palarand. At that time, no mention had been made of Ursula leaving them.

“I do hope that they made it at least as far as Joth where we know they will have had a warm welcome. But to come back to Ursula, she is a skilled and trained healer and when the ship stopped in Joth for an extended stay, she demonstrated her skills ably and put into practice many sensible suggestions.”

“Excuse me, Tenant?”

“Yes, Nim?”

“You say there was an extended stay in Joth? That seems strange to me if one of the objectives of the voyage was to get all the way up to this Faralmark wherever that might be.”

“Well the fact was that the Visund had again been damaged after an attack from a river monster. Repairs could not be done overnight. But, if you will forgive me, I shall not go again into the stories of the voyage up to Joth, Gullbrand there has all the details and shall have a little more time than I currently do to explain them all in detail to you on some future occasion. My task, I deem, is now to give you an introduction to this Ursula. All of course framed by the passage of the Visund.”

He stopped for a sip of water at that juncture leaving us all impatient for him to continue.

“We met monsters both in the water and on land, …”

“Duke Jarwin!” I found myself spitting out, for I knew of that unsavoury incident.

He nodded his agreement at me and swiftly continued: “… but, for now, I just wish to let you all know as much as I do about Ursula who had become the 36th member of our company.”

He paused again there, not only to gather his thoughts back to his track but also probably to let us reflect on the things he had said before about this mystery woman. But it was, inevitably, young Nim, with his new-found thirst for knowledge that broke the silence: “Tenant, you said the other evening, a week or so ago, a few things about this Ursula but seemed hesitant for some reason. Has something now changed that you feel you can say more?”

Maralin looked at Nim with an almost shocked gaze. “That, Nim, is a very astute question. There is a simple explanation, though. But a complicated explanation of the explanation!” He grinned at us then, shrugged acceptingly as he realised he had once again been diverted from his main path.

“When Princess Garia originally arrived, she managed to persuade everyone around the King that she was indeed from another world. And also that she had knowledge that could be dangerous in the wrong hands. And so it was agreed that everything she wanted to tell us would be … passed through, I suppose is the best way to say it ... a selection committee. That in itself involved many oaths of non-disclosure. Once it was established that I too came from this other world, naturally I too was involved with this process. Ursula is also clearly from our world, and so I had to discover to what extent this selection committee would approve of any knowledge about Ursula being bandied about. Had we still been at war, then I have no doubt that I would have been silenced on the subject, but now the war is over, except for a few hard-core fanatics, then I have been allowed to tell you about her.”

“Ah!” answered Nim, “thank you.”

“But you must also remember that none here in Palarand have yet met Ursula except myself and Sarjant Varran, all that anyone knows is from our reports and from the messages sent by Princess Eriana and her company. Ursula is a very talented healer, indeed she saved the life of a guardsman in Joth using techniques from our world that were not known here, and she is learning local healers knowledge at a fast rate. As well as expanding THEIR knowledge.

“So she has been a very welcome addition to the ship’s company as they travel onwards. But she was not the only addition to the numbers! After the attack by a gogon, the Visund was stationed in Joth for repairs for a good few weeks and it soon became obvious that Ursula could not go around freely without a maid, so one was found, young Tyra. When Ursula elected to remain with the Visund, then Tyra too went along. So she would, if you have been keeping up with me in the counting, be the 37th member of the crew, but forget not that six of us Jothans had removed ourselves once we reached home. So she became the 31st member.

“Once they had departed Joth, I was with them for a little bit of the way, but what I am about to report can no longer be considered as direct personal observation. The river Pilot, Prell, had taken on another contract, intending to return to the Visund before they departed Joth, but sadly he twisted an ankle which had been weakened in the gogon attack. So Eriana continued the short passages up to Ferenis and Forguland without any pilot. There they found an abandoned boat’s officer who had been a prisoner of Yod and who was trying to return to his home in Faralmark. So he was hired to replace Prell.

“I was told but confess cannot remember whether ’twas in Ferenis or Forguland, that a young runaway leaped aboard just as they were about to cast off and the issue was finally resolved when Eriana formally adopted the young child to get them away from their abusive father. So that was another added to the crew list. 32 now.

“They passed on upriver to Yod where they encountered several further difficulties. At one place, they stopped for an overnight, anticipating a normal riverside welcome, but discovered some renegade soldiers were holding the locals in some sort of slavery. These men tried to take the ship and crew prisoner but were soon shown the error of their ways, very finally for several of them. In this event, Eriana rescued several people, men and women, who had been previously held and had been treated most harshly.

“There were six men and five women who travelled on with them from this most unfortunate place, and also Eriana took along one of the barges these thugs had captured in order to help with the accommodation. So now she had a small flotilla rather than just the Visund. Two ships with thirty-two men and eleven women in all.

“And of course, their onward journey was also not without incident. But I deem that is enough on this subject for now.”

… … …

The next morning presented me with a surprise. No less than five Questors appeared, led by Master Rindal. They all wished to make early starts, or so they claimed, in learning English, one of them not having been here before.

But then came my great surprise. This time, Maralin handed them over to me rather than teaching them himself. He was going to sit in the background and help only if required.

And so my days of teaching the greatest minds of our land began. After a first few stumbles as they got over their perceived problems of being lectured at by a girl, they appreciated, I deem, being firmly reminded why they were here, why I was the one to do it and why the King had so arranged it all. I confess that having Rindal there was a great boon as he fully supported me and squashed any suggestions that the others made regarding my capabilities. After the initial awkwardnesses, those seemed to be forgotten as they allowed the knowledge to sink in and override nearly everything else.

The day went quite well and the men all enjoyed the lessons (or so they said) but maybe not as much as the evening meal!

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Nim's tale is a side story to the main one called Julina of Blackstone, aka JoB.

The story fits into the sequence of JoB just after #92 and before #93.