This is my new story, and it is very less saccharin than River or A Second Chance. Lots of violence in this one, and very little transgender. Some will come, but at least not in the first five or so chapters. I hope at least a few of my former fans will enjoy it: Dawn.

Stone

1.

This could well be the worst hangover Stone had ever experienced. He vaguely remembered getting drunk last night … oh yeah, he had been cut from the team. He had played defensive lineman for a Canadian pro football team, and had just been cut at the end of training camp. He had been injured three weeks before, and the team decided to cut him rather than pay him for several months to recover. So he had gone and gotten hammered last night, staggering out of the bar into a late spring blizzard, totally out of it.

But now it didn’t seem all so cold. He could feel the sun shining on his back. Then he felt a tickling sensation on his ass, of all places. A second later he felt another sensation on his other ass cheek. He had to open one eye to see what it was, in spite of the hangover. He looked over his shoulder to see a small bird sitting on one ass cheek, picking things off the other. Ants. There was a long line of ants marching in a line across his ass and lower back, and this red bird was sitting there, calmly picking then up as they walked, without him even feeling the beak of the bird.

The hangover abated somewhat, and suddenly he shook himself, and the bird flew a few feet away, and Stone brushed ants off his leg, ass and back as he stood. Apparently he had been lying on the normal path the ants took, and they had decided to go over rather than around. The bird was now hovering in the air, tweeting an irate song at him for disturbing its feast before it was full. A second later the small bird darted away as a large hawk flew by. But the big bird did not chase the small one, instead landing about 20 feet from Stone, who was now standing, wondering why he was totally naked. And why it was warm and summery, unlike the blizzard of last night.

The hawk was making low chirping noises, and glanced from Stone off to the left. Stone looked to the left, and saw another person walking towards him. As she neared he realized she was a woman, and a rather tiny one at that. Small in height: but her figure was beyond curvy. Her waist was tiny, but her breasts were like something a teenage comic artist wannabe would draw. They were way beyond super-heroine size. She had long red hair hanging down to her tiny waist, and her face was incredibly beautiful. She wore filmy veil-like clothing that barely covered her. She also carried a longbow over one shoulder and a quiver on the other.

“My goodness, you are a big one,” the girl said in perfect English, looking up at Stone, who towered over her. She looked down a bit, and he noticed for the first time that his flaccid penis was more than twice as long and twice as thick as before.

“That won’t do,” she said pertly, and took one of the scarfs from around her neck and tied it around his waist, with a long piece hanging down in the front, acting like a loincloth. “Better,” she pronounced. “You can call me Rayla. That isn’t my real name, but Arthur says it fits the way I look here.”

“Who is Arthur?” Stone asked.

She gestured to the hawk. “That is Arthur. What do we call you?”

“My name is Stone Wahl,” He said. “You may have heard of me. I played for the Roughriders for four years. On defense. The papers called me the Stone Wall. Do you talk to the bird?”

“Roughriders? Never heard of them. And Arthur is a hawk, not just a bird. He is my familiar. He has helped me a lot in the past week or so, explaining things. He says you will find a familiar sometime later today. Not a bird, but other than that he doesn’t know what.”

“Where are we? It was snowing last night in Regina. I’m glad its warm here. I’m really not dressed for winter.”

“Where is Regina? Somewhere in England? I was in Cleveland, Ohio until 10 days ago. Arthur says this is not Earth, and I can vouch for that: there are two moons, just a little smaller than the one on earth. He says we have a mission here, but doesn’t know what. He knew you were coming today, and brought us near. Where should we go now?”

Stone looked around. They were on a small, grassy hill. He pointed down the valley at the right. “That way,” he said. “When I was a kid, in scouts, they taught us you always go toward lower ground. If you keep going downhill, eventually you will reach water, and if you follow the water downstream eventually you will find people. Then maybe we will find out what is going on.”

“That way is east,” Rayla said. “As good a direction as any. Arthur said you had to decide: now you will find your pack and your familiar.”

“I don’t have a pack,” he said as they walked down the hill.

“Not yet,” she said tersely, and they walked on in silence. After about two miles they saw a huge bay horse standing near a flat rock that had something on it. “Your pack,” she said, pointing.

The girl had sharp eyes, it was a half-mile further on before Stone could make out the pack. There was a huge sword next to it. As they walked, Stone studied the horse. He had ridden on the farm as a boy. The horse seemed to be as big as a draft horse, but didn’t have the large hooves. It neighed as they approached, then resumed grazing on the long grass.

Rayla got to the pack first, and started going through it. She threw clothes at him. “Thank God,” she said. “Put these on.” It was a pair of buckskin trousers and a vest with fringe on the arms. He looked like a traditional First Nations’ person. “You can keep the scarf as underwear,” she added. “I’ll never wear it again.”

“Jesus,” she said, lifting the sword next. “This is crazy heavy.” She could barely hand the weapon to him. He grabbed it and swung it about, the way people did on TV. As he did, he thought he heard it sing in a soprano voice. “Blood, kill, cut, maim.”

“Did you hear that,” he asked the girl. “It sings when I swing it.”

“Maybe it is your familiar,” she said. “You can’t hear Arthur, so why would I hear your familiar.”

“I dunno. She sings a pretty vicious song, though. I wonder if she has a name.” He put the sword back into its leather sheath, and strapped it on his waist.

The bag had some food, and water in it, along with a knife and a few other tools. There was a saddle on the stone that looked large enough for the horse, so Stone walked over to it and put a hand on its shoulder.

«Greetings, friend,» a voice said in his head. Stone pulled his hand away and the voice ended. Then he carefully reached out again. Once he made contact with the horse, the voice came back.

«That was quite rude,» the voice said. “I can only speak with you when we are physically touching. My name is Doug, and I am a horse now.»

“Weren’t you always a horse?” Stone asked.

«No, until last night I was a librarian in Boulder, Colorado. In a wheelchair,” the voice said. “I was a paraplegic since a sledding accident when I was 10, nearly 50 years ago. So I have gone from no legs to four overnight. I quite like it.»

“Are you talking to it?” Rayla said stroking the horse. “Is the horse your familiar?”

“I think so,” Stone said turning back to the horse. “He says his name is Doug.” «So what happens now, can I talk to you mentally as well as verbally,» Stone said in his mind.

«It appears so. I can also communicate with the bird, but not the smaller human, even if she touches me. Interesting. Why don’t you put that saddle on me, and try riding. Something tells me I will like being ridden.»

Stone saddled the horse and put on the reins, noting that there was no bit on the unit.

«Of course not,» Doug explained. «You don’t need a painful bit to control me. I will do what you want as you think it, or tell you why not. You can’t force me like a dumb animal. That saddle looks big enough for the little one behind you as well. Will you both ride?»

«Might as well,» Stone said. He had arranged the sword on one side of the saddle, and lashed his pack to the other. He stepped into the stirrup, and then turned to Rayla.

“Do you want to ride?” he asked the girl. She looked hesitant, but then made a small nod. He reached down and grabbed her arm, and practically flung her through the air until she landed firmly on the back of the saddle.

“Oh my,” she said after she settled herself into position after flying onto the horse. She had weighed practically nothing to the big man.

There wasn’t much said for the first few miles. Rayla held on tightly around Stone’s waist, and the feeling of her large breasts pressing into his back caused certain feelings in the man. Feelings that manifested in one of his trouser legs tightening around what they contained. He felt embarrassed, and hoped the girl would not see. When they met, he had been too shocked at the new situation to react, and she had quickly concealed his organ. But now it was showing his definite attraction to the girl.

Rayla, on the other hand, was feeling strange things as well. She was atop nearly a ton of pure muscle, and was hanging on to another being just as muscular. She couldn’t see ahead: he was far too tall, so most of the time she just lay her head on his back and looked to one side or the other.

There was a farm house every mile or so, but all were deserted and burned out. Rayla said Arthur had seen the raids, made by slavers who either killed the settlers, or enslaved them early in the summer. They came to a small stream just as the first moon was rising in the dusk. “See, water,” Stone bragged to anyone who listened. “We will camp here. You said there was food in the bag? Doug can find his own.”

Doug was looking intently to the south. «There is a mare in heat nearby. I’m going to go get some nookie. I used to get laid once a year when I was younger, even when I had to pay for it. Now I am healthy, and I don’t have to wait for my birthday.» As soon as Stone dropped off the horse, he unsaddled it and it went to the brook and drank deeply, then headed south, following its nose.

Stone moved near a wooded copse and found some deadwood to bring back for a fire. When he got back, he found that Rayla had a camp set up. “Your horse found some wild animals,” she said with a smile. “Arthur says he killed the stallion and is currently fucking the lights out of the one in heat. Get that fire started and we can eat. There are some herbs and vegetables in.

Then she stood quickly and swiveled on one foot taking an arrow from its quiver in fast motion. In an instant the arrow was flying through the air and struck a rabbit Stone had not even seen. “Rabbit stew,” she announced, going to the dead animal. Do you know how to clean a rabbit?”

“I can learn,” Stone said.

“Never mind. Give me your knife and I’ll do it. Faster that way. You keep trying to make a fire. It gets kinda cold here at night and I don’t have much in the way of clothes.”

The fire was easy. Not BIC lighter easy, but there was a flint in the pack and soon Stone had small sticks blazing and found he could easily snap branches up to four inches in diameter, creating small logs for the fire. The fire was burning solidly when Rayla came back and dropped some meat into the stewpot. In a half hour wonderful aromas were coming from the pot, and soon Stone learned that he really liked the taste of rabbit stew.

As they chatted over the meal Rayla told her story. She had appeared in the strange land almost two weeks ago, without warning. She came from Ohio, and it was late fall there. She said that her body back there was very different, without going into details. Soon after she arrived, a woodsman had found her, and had said some words in a chant. That caused her to become obedient to his every command.

“I am a slave,” Rayla said. “He used me as you might expect, but that night I discovered Arthur, who saved me. He picked up the largest stone he could carry aloft, and dropped it from about 1000 feet. It hit the woodsman squarely on the head, and crushed his skull.”

“Wow, that must have taken some kind of accuracy,” Stone said.

“Arthur is special. The instant the man died the strange compulsion vanished, and I discovered that I had superior skills with his bow and arrow. I was able to hunt small game easily. But I didn’t have a flint. Meat is much better cooked.”

She cleaned the empty pot and washed it in the brook while Stone took out some rolls from the pack. One was a waterproof material and the other was a blanket.

“There is only one bedroll”, he said as she came back. He set it up so that half the groundsheet was on the ground and the other half was attached to two sticks, to make a little lean-to. The top part would keep the morning dew off them as they slept: a trick he had learned in scouts on earth. The opening faced the fire, and it still threw off enough radiant heat to warm the lean-to.

“Your familiar is coming back,” Rayla said. “Arthur says he is not alone.”

A moment later Doug trotted into the camp. He had to whinny loudly and three other horses then cautiously came close enough to be seen. One was a large mare and another was a small filly. The third horse was somewhat in between.

Stone put a hand on Doug and instantly could see memories of his familiar coming across the small herd of wild horses. First he killed the stallion, which fought for his herd but was no match for the huge Doug. Then the horse took the female in heat and did what horses will do. And well, apparently he had done it well, since she had followed him closely ever since. The other two horses also followed through their herding instinct. Doug didn’t care: the one would come into heat later, and the filly would be old enough in a year.

«Be gentle with them,» Doug said. «The little human can ride one tomorrow, and the others can be pack animals. I enjoy carrying you, but the thought of being a pack animal is demeaning.»

The horses wandered off to graze, while the humans crawled into the lean-to, after stoking the fire enough to keep it going for the night. Rayla crawled in first and snuggled into the spot where the groundsheet became the roof. Stone got in next, and had to crowd into the girl’s back to get under cover. The lone blanket covered both of them,

As Stone spread out the blanket over her, he stroked Rayla’s shoulder. He could feel her tense up. He pulled his arm away quickly.

“What is wrong?” he asked. “There are ways we could keep warm here tonight.”

“If I must, Master,” she said.

“What is this Master crap?” Stone said.

“I am a slave,” she said. “It is not a compulsion because you haven’t said the binding spell, but I am still your slave.”

“Bullshit,” Stone said. “Half my buddies on the team were Black, and there is no way I am going to have a slave.”

“You have to,” Rayla said sobbing. “If you are not my master then the first man who says the binding spell will be. I like you. You are gentle. But I have to be your slave.”

They argued in the bed for 10 minutes, and Rayla finally convinced him she would be his property. Stone was adamant he would not say the binding spell that Rayla wanted.

“I don’t like it,” Stone finally said. “I will never force you to do anything. If I say something that sounds like a command, you can say ‘are you sure, Master?’ and I will probably rephrase it. I will never sell you, and I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t want you to call me Master.”

“Arthur says that slavery is engrained in this nation, but I am glad that you will be around to protect me from it,” Rayla said softly.

This is just a short chapter. I will post one-a-days for the rest of the week to get us into the story a bit: Dawn.

Stone

2.

The next morning the pair crawled out of the lean-to and Stone went to the copse of trees to do his morning ablutions, which included trying to tame the massive hard on he had suffered through the entire night, due to being so close to the beautiful woman who seemed to be made for sex. But she didn’t want it, and Stone was not the type who would rape a girl, which is what he considered ordering her to make love to him would be.

The ride through the morning was easier, since Rayla now had her own horse. It had taken a bit of work to get the wild mare to accept her, but finally Doug got involved. Stone got on the stallion, who neighed orders to the mare who first let Rayla approach her, then allowed her to stroke her neck, and finally allowed the girl to mount her. The fact that Doug already had a rider made the mare more comfortable with Rayla, who weighed a fraction of what Stone did. She rode bareback, and really didn’t need to steer the beast, which followed immediately behind Doug. Doug told her that he had named the mare Beauty.

The pack was arranged onto one the other animal, Glory, and it and the filly, named Lucy, followed.

As they rode along the brook, which slowly grew larger, Rayla called out to Stone: “There is a town or large Village ahead. Arthur says it is called Greenwood, and it has about 800 residents. We should reach it by noon.”

Stone realized that having aerial reconnaissance was handy, and told Rayla to thank Arthur for the information. The sun was high when they saw the village near the brook, which now could be called a small river. There was no sign announcing the name of the town. As they neared it, they saw more farmhouses, which were not vacant and burned out like they had been at the start of the trip.

It looked much like a town in a western, with a single dirt main street with businesses along it, and side streets with houses branching off. There were two buildings that interested him: one had a sign saying saloon, and the other said Hotel. The Hotel looked nicer and would be the safer choice, and they pulled up in front of it.

“Arthur says that they won’t let ‘my type’ into that place,” Rayla said. Stone cursed, but they veered off to the other side of the road. There was a livery stable next to the saloon, and they went there first.

“Water the horses and feed them,” Stone told the stable man who came out. He took the horses, but really didn’t take his eyes off of Rayla. And as he started to notice people in the streets, Stone realized that Rayla was not so tiny. She was nearly as tall as the men of the town, and taller than most of the women. It was not that she was small, but that Stone was huge. He had been just over six feet tall in Saskatchewan, but this new muscular body must be over seven feet tall. He towered over everyone and had to duck to enter many doors.

In the saloon Rayla stood close behind Stone as he went to the man at the bar. As Stone was ordering food for them both, the girl let out a shriek and Stone turned to see a big man fondling her rear.

“Take that hand off or lose it,” Stone said sternly.

“Aw she’s just a dolly,” the man said, although he did move his hand. “I’ll fight you for her.” He stood up, and it was clear that he had been the biggest man in town, although he was a head smaller than Stone.

“On the street now,” Stone said. “Get a sword if you have one.” Turning to the bartender. “Get that food ready, this won’t take long. Rayla can start eating right away.”

He followed the man out and watched him head to a nearby blacksmith shop. He came back with a huge sword that most men couldn’t carry, let alone swing. He stood in the middle of the street, and walked towards Stone as a circle of people that gathered around, much like a schoolyard fight. He was swinging the sword as if to show that he could handle it. It was twice as thick as Stone’s sword, but as soon as he neared and started to swing a blow, Stone’s sword took over and made a vicious swipe that made a mighty clang as it hit the bigger sword and then amazingly clove right through it, with most of the blade falling to the ground.

The smith stared at the broken sword in his hand for a second, and then dropped to the ground.

“I concede sire,” he said. “That is the best sword I ever made, and you destroyed it with one blow. I beg mercy.”

“Are you the only blacksmith in town?” Stone asked.

“Yes sire, I am training my son, but his is only 12.”

“I would not deprive the town of its smith,” Stone said. “You may rise. I think you might pay for our food and stabling fees if you wish to stay on my good side.”

“Gladly sire.”

“And leave off the Sire nonsense. My name is Stone.”

“I am Notchless,” the smith said. “I will go to the stable and make sure your horses are well looked after. Tell Henderson I will pay for your meal.”

Stone headed back into the saloon, and was astonished to see Rayla caressing two ragged looking men. Her face showed desire, but then he noticed that her eyes showed horror at what she was doing.

“You two. Leave her be.”

“She is our slave,” the younger of the two said. “We said the binding spell, and it took. She is ours for the rest of her life.”

“Or the rest of your lives,” Stone said, and he drew his sword and thrust it through the chest of the man in front, and it went clean through the chest of the man standing behind. The men looked down at the weapon sticking out of them, and then died. Stone heard the sword singing with delight at having tasted blood, after missing out with the duel on the street.

Rayla instantly got control of herself again, and watched Stone lift the men off the floor and carry his burden out the door, where he tipped the sword down and the bodies fell onto the street.

Back in the saloon, Henderson, the barkeep was spreading sawdust on the blood on the floor.

“Sorry about messing up your floor, barkeep,” Stone said apologetically.

“Don’t be,” the man said. “Hopefully there will be a stain there. Everyone within miles will come to see it. It will be great for business. Your food is there on the table. Your … companion … was just getting started when those louts interrupted her.”

“Are they family men?” Stone asked as he sat down to eat, although first rubbing Rayla’s shoulder to help calm her down.

“No, they are layabouts. Neither one even has a job. They would cut wood in the forest and sell it for firewood to get the odd coin. They’ll not be missed.”

“Good. You make a good stew. A bit different from the rabbit stew we dined on last night. Compliments to the cook.”

“My wife, sire. She is an excellent cook. It is why we do so well here. Better food than the hotel, and at a lower cost. Not that I will charge you anything: the excitement will draw trade for the next week, and they will talk of it for the next year.”

Rayla didn’t eat at first, clearly upset by the events. But Stone waited until she settled down enough to get a good meal into her. They only drank water: Stone had a sense that as thirsty as they were, alcohol would dull their senses and make the afternoon trip more difficult. After about a half hour they finished and Stone started to see what the barkeep meant: there were dozens of people coming into the bar and ordering drinks, then staring at the two of them the entire time.

Finally they finished, and the bartender refused to take any payment. It suddenly hit Stone that they had no money anyway. He went with trepidation to the stables, and found that the fees there had been paid for by Notchless, the smith that Stone had spared earlier. The man was getting little work done in his forge: a throng of villagers surrounded him and looked at the broken sword. The other debris he had deposited on the street had been cleared away before they left the saloon.

Soon they were on the road again, this time with Rayla on a saddle that Notchless had given for Beauty. Stone noted that the saddle didn’t have stirrups like Doug’s did. There was a simple rope hanging down on the left side that allowed Rayla to mount the horse comfortably.

“I learned a bit talking to the smith,” Stone said. “Apparently the area we started from was called the Barrens. It used to be a productive farming area, but it was a bit far from Greenwood and when the new Duke took over a few years back he stopped sending patrols out into the area. As a result, the slavers travelling through the area stopped at farms along the route and either killed or enslaved the residents, burning the thatched buildings.”

“Damn, but I would like to run into some slavers about now. By the way, I have a name for my sword,” the big man said. “She is Impatia, from impatient. Pate for short. She was quite pissed off when I spared the smith, and was only a bit mollified by spearing Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the bar. As I was dumping them on the street outside, she insisted on twisting, to enlarge the wound, even though they were both dead at the time.”

“I thank you for saving me. That bonding was so powerful: I couldn’t fight it. It is not so bad, being bonded to you. And if you want to meet slavers, you are in luck. A train of them left Greenwood this morning, and they move much slower than we do. A slave train moves at the speed of the slowest slaves, who are on foot. Mounted we ride four or five times as fast. Arthur says we should catch up to the train in about an hour.”

Another short chapter that gets us further into the story: Dawn.

Stone

3

Kepler sat on the wagon, while his eight guards patrolled the train. There were four other wagons as well, containing food for the train, and other trade goods. The most valuable goods were the human sort, he thought to himself. Sarn was apparently short of slaves and the auction he hoped to reach on time should result in a good profit.

Just then his senior guard men, Carlson, rode up: “Riders behind. Two, on four horses. About five miles back.”

Kepler reacted immediately. Five miles on horseback could be covered quickly. He ordered the four wagons into a sort of a circle, with the slaves in their chains in the middle. His wagon was closest to the approaching riders, and his eight guards arrayed themselves around it between him and the approaching riders.

“Look, there is a dolly. A cute one,” Carlson said. “But the man is a big bugger.”

“No worry,” Kepler told his men. “Even as big as he is, he can’t fight eight of you. And that dolly looks pretty fine. She’ll score me eight or ten gold at the sale. And all of you should get a turn with her before we get there. Dismount and draw swords.”

“Ahoy, the train,” Stone shouted. “Are you dealing slaves? You will release them immediately.”

“I think not,” the slave traders called back. “I think I will take your dolly and the horses into my wares. I’d take you too, but if the dolly is sworn to you, we will have to kill you to break the bond. Dismount and fight.”

Rayla was now sworn to Stone. They had argued about it for an hour since leaving the village, and he finally had to agree to speak the oath she recited for him, locking her into slavery with him. He didn’t like it, but finally agreed it was the best way to protect her. To Rayla’s surprise, she didn’t feel all that different once the oath was made, although she did feel it take effect.

To the astonishment of Kepler and his men, the big man remained on the big horse. Who ever heard of fighting from horseback? Then the man pulled a long sword from a scabbard. It was at least double the length of the short swords his men carried.

The slaver watched as the horse darted close to his men, properly on foot with swords out and arrayed in battle formation. Then the great sword flashed and he saw it cut through the closest four men in a single slice. On one it cut the guard’s head clean off, and the next two lost both their head and upper arms as the blade sliced through the chests like a knife through butter. The last man was sliced through the waist, and fell to the ground in two pieces.

Kepler’s amazement only lasted a second though, when an arrow plunged into his eye, immediately killing him.

Doug pranced back, so as not to get any of the gore in front of him on his hooves. The other four soldiers reacted quickly, dropping to their knees with their swords in front of them. The three unarmed wagoneers just stared in shock, as did the slaves within the wagons.

“Do you yield?” Stone yelled. All seven of the remaining men nodded yes. There were the wagoneers, who had not fought, and four cowering guards who considered their duty over with the death of their master. “Then rise, but leave your swords where they are for now.” Stone then went between two wagons, one with the dead slaver slumped over. He saw that the slaves were chained together with shackles on their ankles.

“Who has the keys to unlock these chains?” he asked the nearest wagoneer.

“Kepler kept them under his seat of the wagon he drove,” the man said. “There is a hidden compartment when you lift up the seat.” Stone used his sword point to thrust the slaver’s body to the ground. He reached over to open the compartment and saw a large set of keys and several cloth sacks. He snagged the key ring with the tip of the sword, and flicked it. It flew through the air, and the guard named Carlson was able to catch it in midair.

“Unchain them. Remove the chains and the shackles,” Stone ordered. All four guards immediately went into the circle and started work. Stone went back to the hiding spot and took the two sacks over to Rayla, who was about 25 yards away. She had shot the arrow that had killed the slaver. One bag was full of gold livres, and the other had smaller denominations: silver denari down to copper farthings.

“No more problems with cash,” Rayla said as she ran her fingers through the coins.

“Well, hopefully. All these people will need cash to get started again. But there is a lot here, and we should have something left.”

Stone moved Doug into the circle shouting: “People! You are now free. You can go where you will. We will give you a small bit of money for travel and to get started. You are no longer slaves.”

Then an elderly man spoke up: “We thank you for rescuing us. But are we required to go free? I have been a slave all my life, and I don’t wish freedom. Hopefully an owner less vicious than that thing,” he gestured at the body on the ground. “But given a choice, I would remain a slave.”

Stone was dumbfounded. “How many more of you feel this way?” Only about a dozen hands went up, while over 100, plus children, shook their heads.”

“Well, I’ll have to think about that. Do you mind not being chained?” The man replied: “When we are sold we will not be in chains. And none of us are apt to run away.”

“Good,” Stone said. “Put the chains and shackles into the wagons. I see some of you have sores on your legs. Go over to my companion and she will see if she can help you. And some of you have no shoes. You may take the boots from those things, if they fit,” he pointed to the dead guards then the slaver’s body. “And him. I’m afraid that most of the rest of their clothes are in bad shape, thanks to my sword. If any of the guards, dead or alive, have spare boots or clothes, distribute them to the neediest.”

About 30 walked over to Rayna, and she organized the women to boil water in the big pot from the chuckwagon, and learned that there were some white linen bolts in a trade wagon that she had the men tear into bandages. Soon water was boiling and wounds were being cleaned and bandaged.

Meanwhile Stone moved over to Carlson, who seemed to be the leader of the remaining guards. “Where were you going? Where were the slaves to be sold?”

“In Sarn, the ducal seat,” the guard said. “Kepler always dealt with an auctioneer there. We were pushing to get there for the Friday sale. He didn’t like the idea of paying to feed them for another week.”

“Well, we are not going to push these poor folk, but there are only 13 who want to continue ‘there’. We can probably put them all on wagons and make better time. As for the others …”

“Attention please,” Stone shouted again, and every face turned to join him. “I don’t know how many of you know where you are going to go.”

“My wife and family had a farm in the Barrens,” a man said. “I’d like to go back there. I saw that this lot burn my house and barn last week. But I would like to see if the crop I planted there this spring is untouched. It would be a chore to rebuild, but if we can get through to fall and harvest, then we can move somewhere else, away from the slave routes.”

“Good plan,” Stone said. “I have seen the Barrens and there are many other burned out farms there. Those of you who are farmers might want to check them out. Try to stay close together though. And those of you that have other trades should find a good spot to set up a little town. I recommend along the stream up there, but you are free men and can go where you wish.”

“You three,” he pointed to the other guards. “I am taking Carlson with me into Sarn to get supplies and give these others their wish. I want the three of you to accompany these freed men, and provide them some protection on the trip and beyond. Set up a base in the town and hold weekly training sessions. I see that there are weapons in that wagon. Each adult male can take a sword and any other tools that any of you might need for your trade. I want you all to form a militia, and these three will train you, so that if slavers arrive, you can fight. They will stop harassing you if they know you are armed and trained. You three come to me.”

The first guard was a tall redhead named Wooden. Stone reached down and picked him up by his collar, so his legs were dangling three feet off the ground. “Do you swear to protect and train these people, and never again work for slavers?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“This will hurt a bit,” Stone said, and drew Pate from her scabbard. He held the sword to the man’s throat and made a tiny cut.

“This one will be true,” Pate sang to Stone.

“Go to Rayla for a bandage,” Stone said, setting the man down. The next was shorter and a few years older, named Herebond. He too was lifted in the air, and passed Pate’s blood test.

The third man was fidgeting. He was younger, named Millstream, and when Stone lifted him into the air, there was a muttering from the former slaves. He was given the oath, and agreed as the other two. But the blood test went differently. Pate reported that the man was sadistic, and had been known to rape the women slaves, as had two of the other four who died.

Pate then cut deeper into the neck, killing the man, causing Pate to sing. Stone tossed the body to the ground face first, so little blood would spoil his clothes.

“Two will do as well as three,” Stone said, and over the next few seconds the former slaves started to applaud. Apparently Millstream was not well liked by the freed people.

“I suggest that you all stay for the evening, which is approaching fast. Let’s get a supper organized, Rayla. And I also want to disperse some cash to those who will be leaving us tomorrow. I think we can give 2 silver denari to each man or woman over the age of 15. The guards will get more: one gold each, which will be their pay for one year. I hope to be back in a week or two. I think you can make it to Greenwood tomorrow, and to the Barrens in another day or two. You can buy supplies in Greenwood. I will send at least one wagon with you for your tools, arms, some trade goods and space for the smallest and weakest among you. The other three wagons will go to Sarn with me.”

That evening it was a happy bunch, glad to be free again, and better fed than they had been all trip. There was even some singing until they dropped asleep.

Another short chapter. I promise there will be some longer ones soon: Dawn.

Stone

4

Mick woke up in early dawn from his spot under the wagon. It was a relief not to have had to sleep in chains and shackles, and finding himself a spot under the wagon meant that the morning dew had not soaked him. But another seven men had the same idea, and there was a snoring mass of bodies that he had to crawl over before hurrying off to the latrines.

On his return he found the giant sitting with the three remaining guards around the fire. He approached, and the big man beckoned him over, and then poured him a cup of chock, a drink he hadn’t touched since being captured a month ago, although he had smelled its wonderful aroma at the guard fire when he was in chains.

“I’m told by Rayla that we will spend another day or so here,” the giant said.

“She orders you around as though you were the slave, and her the master,” Carlson said.

“Yes,” the giant admitted with a smile. “We do have a bit of an unusual relationship. But it generally works out. Apparently there is a woman near to giving birth, and Rayla says she needs rest.”

“I know of her, Nessa,” Mick said. “She was on the chain directly in front of me, with her husband Ranston in front of her. Her time is near. Yesterday … no, the day before, she nearly collapsed from fatigue in the early morning. Any slave who falls is killed and left there, so her husband asked me to hoist her onto his shoulders.” Then, about three hours later, when he was nearly falling himself due to the double weight, I took her into my arms and carried her for several hours to allow him to recover. He carried her until the stopping time, and we both took turns carrying her yesterday, until you appeared.”

“You are a good man,” the giant said. “Apparently when people went over to be bandaged by the Rayla, a woman took her there. Rayla immediately left the other woman to do the bandages, and took over with Nessa, the pregnant lady. She went off and shot a rabbit, and stewed it, feeding the girl broth until she recovered enough to sleep.”

“Yes, that other woman was my wife, Tansa,” Mick said. “She spent most of the evening with your dolly.”

“Please do not call her that,” the big man said. “Her name is Rayla and I am Stone. Now, since you are first awake today, I want these three louts to start teaching you sword work. There were practice sticks in one of the wagons.”

One guard went and got two pairs of sticks. For the next hour Mick was pummeled with the sticks, shaped like swords that did not cut, but they did bruise. After an hour he was exhausted, but realized that the teaching the men were giving him meant that fewer of their blows hit, compared to the start of the lessons. By then there was a group of about a dozen men surrounding them. As Mick rested, three other men started training, one to a guard. After another hour, they broke again, and the guards took three new men. After a while the giant brought more sticks, and Mick was paired up with one of the other men who had just been trained, and the other two were also paired. Fighting against another former slave was easier than against the guards, and Mick started getting hits in, while fending off most of those of his opponents.

During the rest periods for the remainder of the morning, Mick noticed that the red-haired dolly had come to the giant, and again was giving him orders. The big man was sent to trot off in the fields until he came upon a huge hawk sitting on a stone: these were big flat stones, as much as 300 pounds and the giant would rock the stone to pull it loose, and then carry it to the camp. He did this at least a half dozen times.

The training broke for lunch, and as the bruised and weary men walked back to the campfire Mick saw what the stones were for. A big former slave had told them last night that he was a smith: a proper smith, not just a slave helper. He had a hot fire burning in a little oven made of the stones, with four other slaves taking turns with two bellows to keep the fire hot. The smith would put a shackle into the fire, and while it was heating he would take a red-hot one out of the fire and hammer it on the anvil. Luckily smithy tools were in one of the wagons. The smith was splitting the shackles, eventually getting four pieces out of each of the shackles. They were being shaped into metal stirrups, like Stone had on his horse. There was a leather worker cutting strips to hold the stirrups, and attaching them to the saddles from the horses.

He watched the smith as he ate a delicious lunch: for the first time they were being fed three times a day. Mick had missed the breakfast gruel due to his training, not noticing since he was used to only eating in the evening.

In the afternoon the guards said there would be no more training with the sticks, since most of the men were battered and bruised. But Mick and five others who had excelled with the sticks were taken to the livery string, and spent the afternoon learning about horses, and how to ride, something he had never done.

While they were being briefed on the parts and care of a horse, a former slave arrived with four saddles that had the new stirrups attached. Apparently there were ex-slaves who knew leatherwork, and had made these. The saddles were put on the horses of the guards, and one other horse. Mick was ordered to climb onto that horse, after being shown how by the guards. Then the giant took over, and explained how to control the horse with the legs, now possible with the new stirrups.

“I can see why you fought on horseback,” Carlson said, amazed at how easy it was to get the horse to do his bidding. “You have so much more control. I think we need longer swords, though.”

“Have the smith make some when he is finished with the stirrups,” Stone said. “He can use the chains for metal. In fact, I think it would be extremely appropriate that he use slave chains to make swords to fight slavers.”

That night, Mick crawled back under his wagon, exhausted by all the training. He was asleep before the sun set. He woke in the predawn to hear an odd noise. It was the wailing of a child, but younger than any who had survived the trip. He looked around, and found Ranston lying near him, at the edge of the wagon cover. He poked him: “Listen”.

A second child started to wail, mirroring the first.

“Nessa! The babies!” Ranston said, scrambling up and heading towards the sound. Mick got up slower, and followed him. At a small tent there were four or five women, including Mick’s wife, cleaning up the squalling babes. “Here is the father,” Tansa said, handing him one of the baby girls, swaddled in clean new linen.

Ranston took the precious bundle carefully, and then held it high and shouted: “This is my daughter, Rayla: a free woman. He gave the babe back to the woman, and then took the other girl who had been handed to Mick. This time he called out: “This is my daughter, Tansa: a free woman.”

He then took the babe into the tent and handed it to her mother, who immediately took it to nurse. Then the other baby latched to the other breast, and the crying stopped as they nursed. “You have a namesake,” Mick told his wife, who was tidying up around the small family of four.

“Yes,” Tansa replied with a smile. “It’s a beautiful thing, and to be honored by the naming is special. Rayla also appreciates it: she did so much more than I did. Free women: such a birth gift.”

“Mitch went off to stoke up the fire. No one else was there yet, but the guards arrived soon, with the makings of a pot of choc. “We will have to show you where the choc is stored, since you are an early riser,” Herebond said as he mixed the beverage.

Stone and the other guards soon joined the men, and then Ranston appeared with a silly grin on his face, and was congratulated and given a cup of choc. Once the sun appeared in the sky, the guards and the two former slaves headed to get sticks for training. Mick was surprised that he didn’t gain many more bruises this morning. He seemed to have mastered most of the defensive moves the prior morning. That was good. There is nothing worse than a bruise on top of an older bruise.

This one is a bit longer: Dawn.

Stone

5

That morning Rayla told Stone that they could leave the next day. It would give Nessa and the girls another day to recover from the birth, even though they would ride out on the wagons on the trip north. The craftsmen would have another four sets of stirrups done today for the remaining horses. In the morning Stone oversaw the reordering of the wagons. He now planned on taking two to Sarn, and the other two would go with the former slaves, who would now have an armed guard of eight: the two guards and six mounted militia, including Mick. Other men would serve on foot as militia. With at least nine foot militia bearing swords, and another five with pikes or other weapons, there was little chance of any slaver train trying to attack them.

Most of the trade goods were shifted to the wagons going to the Barrens. Almost everything on them would be of use to the people. Stone wanted the two other wagons primarily to buy more supplies in Sarn: even after dispersing money to the former slaves, over half of Kepler’s stash of gold was left. The money would buy tools, seed, and food for the new community the ex-slaves hoped to create. They could also buy another wagon or two, if needed.

Stone was sitting on Doug, confident that the re-packing was done, when he heard childish laughter to the west. They trotted over to see what it was. Most of the teens were playing in the river: Carlson had said it was named the Green River. It was only waist deep here, without much current, only enough to keep it clear and sparkling with a sandy bottom and banks. The preteen kids in the water were calling over a boy on the bank, and he jumped off to join them. Boys and girls both were only wearing underpants.

“Hey,” Stone heard a small voice under the bank say as the boy ran past. Stone looked down and saw a small girl of about three yelling at the teen boy as he ran past. It was Ranston’s second oldest child, the youngest of the former slaves, before Nessa had given birth to the twins. They also had a young son of about six, who Stone had last seen play-fighting with sticks from the firewood pile with a boy about two years older.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Stone asked the girl.

“He wrecked my sand fort,” she said, just on the edge of breaking into tears.

“Awe, that is awful,” Stone said. “Can you fix it? What is your name?”

“I is Lillibet. Doan wanna fix it,” she lisped. “Your horsie is very big.”

“He is. I think he is the biggest horse in the world. Would you like to sit on him?”

“Can I?” she asked eagerly, the incipient tears disappearing.

“For a few minutes. My name is Stone,” he said, lifting her up and placing her into the too-big saddle, where she was unable to spread her feet over the sides. Her eyes got wide in amazement.

“It is so high,” she lisped softly. “I can see all the kids in the river. What are they doing?”

Stone looked, and saw that four boys had four girls on their shoulders and were pushing each other around, trying to knock the other teams into the water. It was midway between playing and courting, although Stone didn’t say that to the little girl.

“I think the girls have gotten the boys to be their horsies,” he explained. “But you have a real horsie.”

“There you are,” a voice from a few yards behind said. It was Ranston, come to fetch his daughter. “Are you bothering Stone?”

“Look daddy, I am riding the big horsie,” she said. Then she stood on the saddle and jumped at Stone, grabbing around his neck with her tiny arms as he reached out to hold her safe.

“I love you, Mr. Stone,” she said, giving the big man a hug even though her arms wouldn’t even reach around his massive neck. “You are so nice.”

Ranston plucked his daughter away. “I’m sorry, sir. She shouldn’t have been a bother to you.” To his daughter he said: “Do you want to go see your baby sisters?”

“The babies. Yes,” she said joyously, and they headed off to the camp.

Stone had a lump in his throat, and was unable to speak for a moment.

“Did the big giant just get conquered by a girl less than three feet tall?” a teasing voice said.

“Pretty much,” he admitted, turning to Rayla. He gestured at the teens in the water. “Isn’t wonderful, to be able to hear children’s laughter. I insist on coming back to these people once we finish up in Sarn, no matter what. So why are you over here?”

“Well, Ranston was looking for his daughter, and of course Arthur spotted her in a few seconds. So I led him over here. I wanted to talk to you for a second.”

“Oh, about what?”

“Just to let you know that it is all right for us to split up tomorrow. The shackle wounds are not all healed, but they should be fine in time. Ranston’s wife is ready to travel … on a wagon … and the babies are coming along wonderfully.”

“Yes. I did not have you pegged as a midwife.”

“You are not nearly as surprised as I was,” Rayla said.

Stone mounted, leaving the redhead staring out over the joyful play of the teens. He asked the horse to take him to the wagons that were heading north tomorrow. He had to root around in one for a bit until he found the pile of chains and shackles that had been taken off the slaves. The smaller children had not worn leg shackles, but smaller bindings that went around a wrist, and were chained to one or the other parent. He grabbed one set and took it to the smith, who had just finished the second four stirrups.

“Can you take the chain off this?” he asked the smith, who took the chain and hit it cold with his hammer and chisel, snapping one of the small chain links.

“Thanks,” Stone said. “Do you want me to take the chain back to the wagon?”

“No problem,” the smith said. “I still have another good hour of light before I need to end my days work, and I think I will find the other small chains like this and join them together. They might be useful in situations where a rope won’t do.”

Stone then took the tiny shackle and hooked it onto Doug’s saddle. «A favor from your lady,» the horse said.

“Yes. Does it bother you?”

«Not at all. Though it might bounce around a bit at a gallop.»

“I don’t think so. It is twisted on there pretty tightly. It will remind me why we are doing this.”

«So you have figured out our mission?»

“Well, I don’t know if it was the reason we were all brought here, but I’m pretty sure that my mission now is to end slavery on this world. Or at least make it more humane. This will remind me that no child will ever be a slave again, if I can prevent it,” Stone said. Then he thought of the 13 people who had refused to leave slavery, for reasons he could not fathom. Suddenly Carlson, riding hard towards them, hailed him.

“Captain,” the guard said, using the term that Stone had said the men were to use instead of Mylord or Master. “There is a wagon approaching. Traders by the look of them. One very old, the other young, but adult.”

Doug trotted off after the guard and they came to the wagon. There was no slave train accompanying them, so they were welcomed to the tent, and asked if they wanted to stay for dinner.

“Who are all these people?” the old man asked.

“Former slaves who have been freed,” Stone said. “They were being taken to Sarn to be sold, and I convinced their slave master to free them. He is buried over there.” The big man pointed to the mass grave where the slave master and guards were buried.

“Oh my,” the old man gasped. “Were I a younger man I might want to be free.”

“You are a slave?” Doug asked. “If so you are freed now. I thought you were the owner of this wagon.”

“No,” the old man replied. “Young Dak here owns the wagon … and me. I was purchased as a young man by his grandfather, and worked 40 years with his father. When the master died five years ago, I took young Dak into the business, which I knew well, when he was still a lad who had only made one trip with us.”

“You are free now,” Stone said, “if you want it.”

“No, thank you very much, but I don’t know how to be free. After 70 years as a slave I know that role very well. I would remain in it, if I may.”

“There are others in the train who feel the same way,” Doug said. “I don’t understand it. They would rather be taken to Sarn and put in auction than take their freedom.”

“I hope they get good masters like I have,” the ancient said. “But perhaps I can explain the reason why they fear freedom, as I do. I have gone an entire lifetime without having to make a decision. That is the master’s role. To be forced to make decisions all day long: frightening.”

That evening the two men joined their meal in with the train. The traders had a large wheel of cheese, which some of the former slaves had never tasted and none had recently, and all were given a slice with the stew that was served, liberally peppered with small game that Rayla had shot during a hunting trip earlier in the day.

When all were full and happy, Stone stood and announced that the sleeping-in late many had enjoyed the last two days was over, and there would be an early start in the morning. Rayla had given him a list of the names of who would ride the wagons and he read it: Nessa and her babies, along with her young son and daughter, Lillibet, and two adults whose shackle sores were not healed. Other young children were on the list, including two girls who had been playing in the river. That caused Stone to change topic.

“I noticed six or eight youngsters playing in the river this afternoon, and I can’t tell you how it warmed my heart to hear such joy as they were experiencing. But I want to warn them. They were in couples, and I think more than a little flirting was happening. The age of majority in this country is 15 for boys and 13 for girls, and I feel that some, if not all, of those playing were younger than that. This kind of play can lead to unexpected results, and it would be difficult for a young couple to start out with a baby right away. I expect the mothers of the girls to speak to them tonight, and if any of you do not have a mother, seek out Rayla. She is easy to talk to.”

He looked around, spotting several young faces very red in color. “Is there anything else? The children should go to bed now, even though it is still light. Dawn will come early tomorrow. The wise adult will also lay down soon.”

Two of the elderly slaves came forward. They were among the 13 who had said that they wished to go to the auction in Sarn.

“Pardon, captain,” one said. “We two would like to go on with the others tomorrow. There is a risk of a bad master in an auction. Instead we would go with the others. But as slaves, not freemen. I would join with Kepple, the thatcher. I was slave to a thatcher for many years, and know how to select the proper plants for thatch, and can lead a team of cutters he wants to send into the bogs. And Mara here wants to work for Ranston Petters, to help his young wife with her youngsters.

Stone stood by, pensive. He had hoped that the community could be slavery free, but it would be cruel to deprive these two of good masters.

“Okay,” Stone said. “I will allow this. I have been thinking about slavery a lot these past few days, and I want to set up some rules. 1) No child can be a slave. They might be given simple chores, by the owners of their parents, but must be given time for play and also given schooling, so they learn how to read, write and deal with numbers. The master of their parents must support these children as he does his own. 2) No slave family can be broken apart by sale. 3) No master will whip his slave. You can discipline them, but no more than a hired servant. Remember the rule of thumb: no hitting with a stick thicker than the thumb, and that will be the thumb of the slave, not the master. Extended whippings are not allowed, even ‘to set an example,’ 4) Each slave will be given an allowance of cash each quarter, to be no less than a third of what a paid servant can earn. 5) Any slave who announces in public “I am free” three times in succession will become free immediately, and will receive the allowance owed to him or her. The former owner will receive no compensation. 6) Slaves will receive one day off each fortnight, and at least four consecutive hours off each day.”

“These rules may seem to make it uneconomic to own a slave, and if this is the case I will be happy. Between the allowance and room and board, and clothing, it will cost nearly as much to keep a slave, as hiring a servant. But this will allow those who would prefer to remain in slavery that option. It also ensures that eventually slavery will die out as those who wish to remain enslaved pass on. If any of the others here wish to make arrangements with others of those going north, do so this evening, and make your choice known by choosing whichever wagon train you want in the morning.”

Finally three of the women came forth and one started to speak: “I am Amber,” their spokesman said. “I and several others in the group are seamstresses, and we wanted to do something for Rayla, who has done so much for us in healing and helping Nessa with her children. We found a bolt of this gorgeous blue material in the wagons, and cut off a piece to make this.” She held out what appeared to be a dress.

Rayla was stunned into silence. Her eyes looked yearningly to Stone, as she said: “A Dolly must wear clothing like I have on. It is part of the geas laid onto us.”

Stone leaned over and whispered in her ear: “I am your master. If I order you to wear this dress, can you?”

“As you wish, master,” she said meekly, although her eyes shone with desire. She turned to the women. “I accept your gracious gift. It is beautiful. Can one of you help me into it?”

The garment was actually a two-piece set. The top, large enough to accommodate her large chest, was separate from the bottom, which was actually pants, although the legs were wide enough to look like a dress. “To allow you to ride, milady,” one woman said.

Rayla was in tears as she thanked all the women. With a garment like this she no longer was recognizable as a dolly. Her figure hinted at it, but people could no longer assume that she was not a normal woman, especially the way that Stone treated her. It was as though a stigma had been removed.

Thus in the early dawn the train headed north with all but six of the slaves joining it, Thus all six of the slaves going to Sarn were able to ride on the wagons. Carlson drove the wagon that the slaver Kepler had been in, and Stone and Rayla rode their horses, while Glory and the filly traipsed along behind. All the other horses went north, ridden by the former guards and the best men of the militia.

Stone

6.

The wagon train heading south, if two wagons can be called a train, arrived in the next village just before noon. Carlson said the village was called Greenford, the last place where the Green River could be forded. And since they needed to get to the other side to reach Sarn, they would have to ford here.

There were only 10 people in the party: six slaves, two wagon drivers, Rayla and Stone. So Stone decided they would eat lunch in the village, and they all piled into the local saloon while the horses were looked after in the adjoining stables.

Rayla reveled in her new outfit, which cut the amount of staring that men did. It did not eliminate it, as she was still strikingly beautiful, but not having so much skin showing cut the staring, especially when Stone stared at the starers. And actually he was stared at as well, due to his immense size.

The 10 all had a hearty lunch of a stew, and Carlson wondered off to sit with some people he knew from prior trips to the village. It took about an hour, and Stone went to pay the bill as the others headed to the stable to see to the horses. When Stone went to the stables, he put a hand on Doug. «No tip for the stable boy,» the horse said. «He was light on the oats, and didn’t give us any rub down.»

“All is well sire?” the boy said to Stone as he mounted.

“No. You didn’t rub the horses, and they weren’t properly fed.” He reached out and grabbed a 100-pound sack of unopened oats, picking it up as if it weighed next to nothing. He flung it on the back of the wagon and tossed the man tuppence, even though the oats would be worth nearly sixpence on their own. If you aren’t happy with my solution to your cheating, then you and I can meet in the street to settle the argument.”

“No, sire,” the man stammered. “Very good sire.”

«Very good indeed,» Doug said. «Grass is tasty in this new body, but I will enjoy oats for dinner tonight.»

“You are not to hog the oats,” Stone said. “Make sure your companions get a fair share. And the four wagon horses as well.”

«Define fair,» the horse snapped back. «I’m bigger than any two of them. I should get twice the feed.»

“Okay, but make sure the others all get a good meal out of it tonight. And I expect the bag to last for two days. That is what Carlson says the trip to Sarn will take.”

They were at the river, and Doug had no problems fording it on his huge horse. But for Rayla and the wagons it was more of a challenge. The water went up to a few inches short of the wagon beds, so the slaves stayed dry. Rayla had to hold her legs up to keep her boots from getting wet, and the filly wouldn’t cross at all until Doug came back and walked next to her as Stone pulled her across on her rope.

Once they were back on the other side Stone tied the filly and the pack horse to the two wagons again, and the group continued.

They made good time through the day, and camped quite a few miles closer to Sarn than Carlson expected. He was used to walking slaves, and with them riding they made better time. They set up a lean camp, with Rayla and Stone in a tent and the wagoneers and slaves under the wagons. Carlson wanted to set up a watch, but Rayla said it was unnecessary. Arthur would soar overhead and alert her of any danger.

The bird spotted the patrol coming out from the city several miles ahead when they had started up again in the morning, after a hot breakfast. Stone watched the slaves eat, and noted that they seemed to be fitter: nearly younger, after having been fed three times a day. He wondered if the slaver’s stinginess had been false economy. These older slaves would have sold for a penny each the way they looked before. But now it would be tuppence each, or maybe three.

The patrol was four men, in a uniform of some sort, rather gaudy looking to Stone. Rayla spread off to the side, knowing her arrows worked best at a distance.

“Ho travellers,” the captain of the patrol said. “Where are you headed, and for what purpose?”

“To Sarn,” Stone replied. “With a small group of slaves for the market, and two wagons to fill with goods to return home with.” He already thought of the other group up north as home. He hoped they were doing well.

“I see,” the man said. “There is a toll of four silvers for this road.”

“A toll, or a bribe,” Stone said.

“As I said, four silvers. Per wagon,” the man said, and Stone then knew it was a bribe. Tolls do not get inflated like that.”

“I’m sorry, but I find this a free road, and will not pay your bribe. The four men slipped off their mounts, and pulled their swords.

“Really,” Stone said in exasperation and Doug moved into swords length of the four. Doug drew Pate, and warned her he didn’t want to draw blood, causing her to scream in anguish. It took two mighty slices through the air for the big man to knock the four men down with the side of his sword. One man flew at least 15 feet, the three others smaller distances, and their short swords went flying. The wagons passed by. Stone thought of taking the four horses, but decided he wanted no more trouble than he was in already.

It was nearly an hour later when Arthur warned that the guard was mounted behind them, riding furiously. They caught up a few moment later, and went two per side, keeping their distance from the wagons.

“You are all under arrest, and we will escort you to Sarn,” the leader of the group told Stone.

“Well, we are going to Sarn anyway, so you may ride along,” Stone said. “But since you are so unfriendly you must find your own rations when we stop for lunch.”

“There will be no stopping for lunch,” the guard said. “You are going straight to the castle.”

Stone fixed a stare at the man, who eventually looked down. “And exactly who is going to make us continue? We stop for lunch in two hours, and we will go to the slave dealer first. I will continue to the castle with you after. Just be warned that my sword will cut just as easily as it slapped you down. And you won’t be getting up. Ever.”

The land was changing as they travelled. After the ford the farms seemed smaller and closer together, with better houses and out buildings. And now they were getting quite close together. They did find a small clearing outside one of the nicer clearings. When the landowner came out to complain, a silver flipped from Stone made him decide to accommodate them, and even let the horses to use his water trough.

The guards moved cautiously about as they ate their lunch. They tried to look like they were in charge even though the train completely ignored them. Rayla and Carlson ate together, and made plans. Carlson would negotiate with the auctioneer, although he had little hope of getting anything for the slaves. The auctioneer had a minimum price of five pence per slave, and he doubted any would fetch more than that. Then Stone would go off with his ‘guard’ to the castle, while Rayla and Carlson would start buying supplies to fill the wagon. Rayla would hold the gold, and Carlson would bargain prices, since he knew the value of product through his years as a trader. Once the two wagons were full, they would take them to a merchant Carlson knew and wait for Stone there. Arthur would keep an eye on Stone through the castle windows.

It was about five when they reached the auction site, located in the center of Sarn. After depositing the slaves, and noting that they need not be chained or shackled, the group split up. The four guards surrounded Stone and Doug as if they were escorting him, but they looked less than convincing. All had dusty uniforms with some tears as a result of their encounter with Pate. Two had welts across their face from the sword, and another was certain he had a cracked rib, and winced every time it pained him. They rode up to the gate of the castle.

“Hi Mitch,” a gatesman called out to the leader of the patrol, as his partner opened the gate, “You fellows look pretty beat up.”

“A bit of trouble, nothing we couldn’t handle,” Mitch replied as Stone entered the castle. The four guards stopped chatting and hurried after him.

“Where are the stables?” Stone asked.

“Down this way,” Mitch replied and led Stone to the stables.

“Feed him and give him a good rub down,” Stone said, handing the reins to a stable boy. He then looked at the guards. “Now, take me to your Duke. I think he will be interested in how his guard treats travellers on the road.”

“You aren’t going to the Duke,” Mitch said. “You are off to the dungeons, down this way.”

“I think not,” Stone said plucking the man off his horse and putting more than a little pressure on the man’s shoulder, which still hurt from the earlier tussle.

Mitch winced, but spoke bravely. “You can handle four men out in the country, but this is a castle with over 100 armed men in it. Do you think you can handle all of us?”

“I will try,” Stone said. “But I can assure you that you four will die first. Now, take me to the Duke.”

Mitch said nothing until Stone squeezed harder, until the man doubled over in pain. “Okay,” he said. “But Sir Mowath will have something to say about all this.”

He grudgingly led Stone away from the stables and through a maze of hallways and passages, eventually reaching a part of the castle that had finer furnishings, such as paintings and tapestries on the wall.

“Captain Mitchell you fool,” an officious looking man said. “What have you got here? Who is the giant? Some sideshow freak?”

“No Sir Mowath,” the guard said. “We met them on the road. He resisted paying the ‘toll’ and then assaulted us when we tried to force him.”

“Really? How many of them were there. I assume the rest are in the dungeons.”

“No sire. He had only two wagoneers with him, and a girl. He was the only one who attacked us.”

“And he lives? Four against one? He is a big bugger but … Hey, you can’t go in there,” the knight said as he notice Stone approaching a door.

Stone had gotten bored and looking around had noticed an ornate door, with two guards standing in front of it. He walked up to it, and the guards had crossed their pikes to prevent entry. Stone just reached out and grabbed a pike in each hand and squeezed, snapping the weapons like sticks. He shoved the men to the side, each landing hard on the stone floor, and opened the door and went inside.

“You are the Duke?” he said to the man at a table, looking over maps spread out on it.

“Yes, who are you? How did you get past the guard?” the man said sharply.

“I am Stone Wahl, former defensive captain of the Saskatchewan Roughriders,” Stone said. “Your guard are not as effective as you think they are.”

Behind him Sir Mowath burst into the room, followed by Mitchell and his three men, and the two guards from the door, still holding the broken pikes.

“Your Grace,” Sir Mowath said rapidly. “This man is a criminal. He assaulted a patrol of four men on the road, and then these two at the door. I must ask you to allow me to take him to the dungeons. Get him men.”

The four guards from the road advanced with drawn swords, and Stone drew Pate again, telling her that there would be no blood this time either. He swung, and struck Mitchell’s sword, slicing it in two. He hit the man with the cracked rib, on the head this time, using the flat of the blade, and knocked him unconscious across the room. The blade disarmed the other two, with their swords flying across the room.

“I have already declined the offer to visit your dungeons,” Stone said. “I did agree to visit the castle, but I don’t think you can hold me.”

Mowath screamed at the men holding the broken pikes: “Call out the rest of the guard. Get every man down here immediately.” The men scurried away.

“Hold a bit, Sir Mowath,” the duke said. “This man is clearly a fighter, and with the Duke of Kona massing his troops, we need every fighter we can get. Let’s make the man a captain and send him north towards Kona.”

“He can’t fight,” Mowath said. “My men told me he was too stupid to get off his horse. How can he be a captain?”

“Apparently he beat down four good men from his horse. It is decided then, he will be captain of our 200 horsemen. Are you willing to fight for me, sir?” The Duke of Sarn asked.

Stone thought for a minute. This could be a good way to make all these troubles go away. “Aye Sire,” he said, bowing in front of the noble. “But I can only spend a little time before other needs become pressing. A month or so at the most.”

“That will do,” the Duke said, taking a small sword and touching each of Stone’s shoulders in turn. “I dub you Sir Stone of Wahl. You will have two weeks to train your men, and then you will head north as our advance party. Sir Mowath will follow with the rest of the army. You are to scout out the enemy positions. Only start combat if it is required.”

This is the last of the chapters in the queue, so it will probably be a few days until the next one. Enjoy: Dawn.

Stone

7.

“The Duke is a fool,” Sir Mowath said with a curse. Captain Mitchell gasped at the sacrilege. He had been brought up to believe that the nobility were appointed by God. But Mowath was his patron, and he said nothing.

“The old fart was completely taken in by this upstart. Yes, he is a giant, and can wield a sword, but that doesn’t make him worthy of knighthood. Why the man doesn’t even have the sense to get off his horse to fight, from what you say.”

“He did us pretty well four to one,” Mitch noted.

“Yes, but will he do as well with the Duke of Kona’s men? I have a bit of a surprise planned for the muscle-bound lug. He will lead this small troop of 200 riders out to scout the Konans, but my spies tell me they are moving an army of 5000 against us in two weeks. Big Boy can lead his horsemen against their forward troops, and get wiped out against the first wave, which is supposed to be 2000. Then I will appear on the scene with our 2500 foot soldiers and we can take out the remaining Konans, or at least bruise them so badly they will go back to their pathetic little land. And I will appear as the savior of Sarn, beloved by all. Then when our Duke suffers a little mishap, I will be the natural choice to replace him.”

Mitchell gulped. Was the knight talking of usurping the Duke? That would be treason. But then the other spoke again: “And if I become Duke, then someone else will need to become the knight defender of the realm. You may well attain that position, Mitch.”

Suddenly Mowath did not sound quite so treasonous, Mitchell thought.

---------

When Stone let Rayna and Carlson know he would be detained for a month, it was decided that Carlson would take the wagons back to the Barrens to supply the people. Stone wanted Rayna to go with him, but she flatly refused. Stone considered ordering her to do so, but he realized that doing so could be the start of him becoming a slave master. He next ordered her not to follow the army, and she refused that as well. In the end they agreed that she could accompany them, but separately, a few hundred yards to the east. In any battle, she could use her bow, but was not to enter the physical fray. Finally she agreed with that.

Back at the castle Sir Mowath introduced Stone to his men, 203 men on small horses. Small compared to Doug, anyway. Stone noticed they had the stirrup-less saddles, and immediately got the castle smith and sadler working to give them the new saddles.

Two days later the first 10 new saddles appeared, and Stone started training the first men in the art of fighting on horseback. The rest of the troop were given sword sticks, and made to attack the mounted men. They were amazed to see how effective a fighting force the mounted men could provide.

Even outnumbered 193 to 11, the foot soldiers got few blows in, but were battered by the sticks wielded by the horsemen. Even though men got up and attacked again after being struck by the horsemen (in a real battle they would have been dead or wounded) in just over an hour the foot soldiers conceded defeat and clamored for new saddles of their own.

The next day all the men participated in drills on horseback. Normally there was no drill on horses. After all, they were just used to convey troops to the battle site, so nothing was needed except learning to ride side-by-side in twos. But now Stone taught several other basic formations for attacking, and moving in battle. And while Stone was training the men, Doug was training the horses.

At the end of two weeks, they had 150 saddles, when orders came from Mowath that Kona was attacking in the north, and they had to head them off. Mowath told Stone that there would only be about 300 Konans in the first wave, hundreds less than his spies had told him there actually were. Stone blithely agreed that he could defeat 300, and Mowath assured him that he and the foot soldiers would appear the second day, to help reinforce the horsemen against the main attack.

“Remember, fight to the last man,” Mowath told Stone. He needed the advance party badly bruised to allow his soldiers to take on the second wave. He hoped that the horsemen could take out at least 500 of the 2000, and cause the rest to fall back into reserves, leaving only the 3000 man main force to attack his men.

Stone gathered his troops the next morning, and they left at 6 a.m. Mowath’s army left at the same time, but would take longer to ride to the battle site. The battlefield was about 40 miles away, and Stone expected to arrive that evening, but too late to fight. His men would camp, and then ride after the Konans in the early light the next morning.

That evening Stone looked over the enemy camp as his men set up. This is not 300 men, he realized, but thousands. He went back to tell his men that he wanted the 150 men with proper saddles to follow him in the morning. Any man wounded was to ride back to the reserve of 50, where one would take the horse, or at least the saddles and return to the fight while the others cared for the wounded.

That night, at about 2 a.m. Stone got a dozen wooden brands and lit them in the fire. He carried them in his left hand, and Pate in his right hand. He didn’t need hands to control Doug, who charged the Konan camp. There were guards on patrol of course, but Pate made sure that they were quickly cut down as the big horse charged into the middle of the enemy tents. Stone threw the brands at the largest tents, which quickly caught fire. Then Doug turned around, and they raced back through the chaos the camp had devolved into, with Pate singing a lusty song as she sliced through man after man in the charge and the return.

Once they were safe in their own camp, Stone looked back at the opposite hill. There were fires all over, with some of the flames leaping from one tent to another. Men were screaming that a devil had attacked them. “I don’t think many over there will get a good night’s sleep,” he muttered to the guards at his camp, who were watching the destruction of their enemy.

The trumpeter roused Stone’s men at sun-up, and they were amazed to see that the huge camp across from them was in disarray. Tents still smoldered, and men wandered about aimlessly. When all 150 were mounted, they cantered towards the enemy. The Konans saw them coming, and came out of the camp on foot, bearing swords and waiting for the Sarnan’s to dismount and fight. Even after the mayhem of the night, Kona put 1000 men on the field, with hundreds more rushing to the battle lines from far points in the camp. They were confident, seeing only 150 horses approach. It should be a slaughter.

And it was, but not in favor of the Konans. The horses rode straight up to the foot soldiers and the riders started hacking with long swords. The Konans couldn’t even reach with their shorter swords. And Stone was in the middle of it all, with Pate singing her bloodlust songs. Everything seemed to slow down for Stone, and it was as though he was fighting in a wire-frame world, where he could see where the next attack was coming from, and watched as Pate sliced through soldier after soldier. It took just over an hour for the battle to end, with the last few hundred Konans fleeing the field. Stone’s men were trained not the chase them down: too many battles were lost when a disorganized chase force came across orderly reinforcements.

When Stone came to the east side of the battle he started noticing men killed by arrow shots, usually in an ear or eye. He looked up, and saw Rayla, the promised 200 yards from her victims. “You had a busy morning,” Stone said as Doug approached the woman, he horse tethered another 200 yards away. “How did you kill so many with a quiver that only holds 20 arrows?”

“Magic, I guess,” the pretty redhead said. “I kept shooting, but with each arrow I drew another one appeared in its place. Magic is the only thing I think could do that. I was counting as I shot, and I shot 272 arrows. I expect they all were on target.”

“Do you want to eat with the soldiers?” Stone asked.

“No, I have food on Beauty,” she said. “Best not to announce my presence.”

Doug carried Stone back to the reserve, where he learned that only 14 of his men were wounded, and three fatalities, all who got back to the reserves before dying. That meant that 17 reserves had joined into the battle.

Stone thanked the wounded, and ordered that the three who died be somberly placed in a wagon so their remains would go back to Sarn for a hero’s funeral. A meal was prepared, and all the men were fed and rested. Doug insisted that all the soldiers tended to their horses before eating themselves.

Later in the day Stone had guards on both sides. He was looking for more of the Konans to the north, but men were also looking to the south to see when Mowath’s reinforcements would appear. The horsemen had not been bloodied too much in the encounter, but Stone was upset that what had been billed as a group of 300 turned out to be nearly 2000. Mowath needed to know how ineffective his spies were.

It was late evening when the guards to the north reported. Stone went out himself, and could see that an even larger army was camping on the same site as the former group. There was no word from the south, so Stone sent a single horseman to the south to report on the battle to Mowath, and see when he might appear. The foot soldiers should appear before noon on the morrow at least. If they were coming in by 10 a.m., then Stone would delay his attack until they were in position.

This night the raid on the camp could not be repeated. The Konans would have learned of the prior raid and would be ready for it. But Stone did not want to allow this group to get a full night’s sleep either. So at 2 a.m. he and Rayla were on a low ridge 100 yards to the east of the larger camp. Stone dug out a trench in the ridge they stood on, and built a fire in it that could not be easily seen from the camp.

A pot purloined from the mess wagon was full of tar, and the black semi-liquid was soon boiling. Rayla gave him half her arrows, and he stuck them in the tar. He would dab tar on each arrow, then hold it in the fire till it ignited, and then pass the arrow to Rayla, who quickly had it arcing over the camp and landing on a canvas tent. They shot 40 arrows in just a few minutes and by then there were sounds of soldiers approaching the ridge. Rayla did another 10 arrows on her own, then mounted Beauty and started to flee.

Stone was now on Doug, and headed out to the advancing patrols, with Pate singing her glory song as Stone dispatched all of the men, nearly 200. Fewer for tomorrow, he thought as he hacked through two groups of 50, and then one of 100. The foot soldiers didn’t have a chance in the dark. Stone went into his battle mode, with his attackers seeminly slowed down and clearly shown in wireframe, while Stone and Doug were practically invisible in the pitch dark. When Pate cried out a lament that there were no more to kill, he turned and ran off after Rayla. He dismounted and hugged her in congratulations, until he felt her tense up. He broke the hug and ordered her to get some sleep for the morning, when her bow would cause more havoc on the Konans.

Stone got about four hours of sleep, and his camp was waking up whne the trumpet sounded. Men tended to their horses, sharpening their weapons. Only a few of the Konans had metal armor, and killing those had dulled blades. Even the leather armor of the others had caused some need for maintenance.

A hearty breakfast was served. The scout sent south to report to Mowath had not returned. It was unlikely he would have been attacked on the way south, unless mistaken for an enemy by Mowath’s men. The other possibility was that Mowath was farther back than Stone expected. If so the scout should appear in the next hour or two.

Finally, at eight there was movement in the far camp. This time the foot soldiers amassed into blocks of 10 men across by 10 deep. They realized that the line of troops was not effective against mounted foes. The blocks seemed to be a perfect formation when attacking a smaller group of men on foot. Not so good for attacking mounted men. Stone could go into a square alone and kill all 100 men in five minutes. His men needed more power, so Stone sent three riders into each square, with one hitting each side and the other going at the middle. There were 30 squares, a scout counted, 15 squares across and another 15 behind with enough gap between to allow the horsemen attacking the rear squares to go between.

As Doug darted forth at the start of the battle, Stone felt himself go into battle mode, and everything seemed to slow down and the enemy appeared like wireframes. It was like playing a video game on the easiest setting.

As the men rode forth the enemy waited for them to pull up and dismount to fight. Of course this never happened, and soon mounted men were smashing into their squares, causing mayhem like never before. The 200 men from Sarn should be easy pickings for 3000 Konans, but it quickly turned into a rout the other way round.

Stone had cleared his first square in minutes, then the one behind it in a few more minutes. Pate was singing her glorious song, and few of the men she sliced though remained intact, let alone alive. After clearing his two squares, Stone headed to the east, aiding the men who were working on their squares. Stone was about to behead a soldier in front of him when he saw an arrow go into the earhole of his helm. Stone smiled. Rayla never missed.

It was 20 minutes later when the battle was over. The last 500 Konans were fleeing north, and Stone again prevented his men from chasing them. Such a small fighting force would be unable to threaten Sarn again.

He reformed his men on the ridge their camp sat on when he heard a yell from one of the reserves. Stone approached, and the man merely pointed. On the next ridge back, the main Sarn forces could be seen: setting up a camp. They had clearly been there some time, and for some reason had not come forward to help. Stone headed that way to find out why Mowath had not come forward to support his men.

A really long chapter that was fun to write: Dawn.

Stone

8.

Everything seemed to have gone terribly, Sir Mowath thought as he sat in his camp. Last night a rider from Stone’s troop had come by telling them that the small group of horse had completely obliterated nearly 2000 Konans. The man was now under guard in the back of the camp, indignant that he was not able to ride back to the horsemen. The foot soldiers had resumed their march in the morning, and were only a few hours from the battlefield.

But Mowath had decided to set up a day camp on a ridge within sight of the next round of fighting, which was just underway. He could tell that his soldiers were anxious to get into the action, but the knight held them back. Surely the few horsemen would not be able to defeat 3000 Konan troops. His entire plan depended on the giant being killed in the battle, and then the Konans would mop up the remaining horsemen, who were fighting on horseback, for goodness sakes. But instead Stone continued to decimate the Konans, and his men were holding their own, in spite of being massively outnumbered. Soon the battle was over, and Mowath soon saw the big horse carrying the bigger man galloping towards him. This could get sticky.

“Mowath,” Stone shouted. “Why are you camped here? We could have used a bit of support out there. I lost 12 men in this battle, and another 34 wounded.”

“You were doing quite well out there. We would have stepped in if you were in any danger,” the knight lied. “This horse fighting method you came up with seems quite effective. We must discuss it at the castle. I am heading back there now. I want you to take control of both our armies and head back when you are done cleaning up.”

“You need to be aware that your spies are less than efficient,” Stone said. “They said there would only be 300 advance troops, but it turned out to be near 2000. We were lucky to be able to take them out.”

“Well, the one thing good about that is that there will be more booty,” Mowath said. “There must be several thousand horses running about without riders. And see if the Konans left their baggage trains when they ran. They usually do. There could be a huge amount of goods in them.”

Thus Mowath was back in the castle when Stone was busy organizing men and chasing down booty. The sergeants did most of the former, and secured the several baggage trains, but it was Stone who led most of the collecting of the horses. Doug was able to corral the loose horses, although many of them were tethered and easily collected by the horsemen that accompanied Stone. In fact, when they tallied up their take there were 2000 horse collected, more than enough that each man in the combined armies had a mount to return on. There were also 43 wagons from the Konan baggage trains, containing goods worth taking back.

The result was that the army didn’t get back to Sarn until sunset. When Stone appeared at the stables to get Doug settled, he was told that Mowath had said he was to report to his office immediately. Stone left as soon as he saw that his horse was being tended to among the many horses in the full stable.

He found Mowath at the same desk as his first visit to the castle, with a bottle of steaming choc, which he was sipping. He poured a second glass, and invited Stone to drink. Stone found the choc a bit more bitter than usual, but still refreshing after his long day. He and Mowath went over what had happened at the two battles, so that they would be in agreement when reporting to the Duke.

After about a half hour, and a second glass of choc, Stone began to feel tired. It had been a long day after a short night, so he didn’t think much of it, until he noticed his vision was doubled. That was when he realized that he had been drugged. He went to stand up, and found his legs didn’t work, and fell to the floor.

“Mitchell, get in here, and bring the men,” Mowath yelled and soon the captain appeared with six soldiers. “That bugger had enough einilweed to kill three men. But he seems to have finally caved.”

Stone reached for his sword, and found he could not even grab it, let alone pull it out. Captain Mitchell pulled it free, and laid it on Mowath’s table. The men had a device much like a wheelbarrow, but larger and Stone was strapped to it, unable to move enough to fight. Two men took the arms of the wheelbarrow, and started to wheel it down the hall as the other four stood guard on the sides with bared blades and Mitchell supervising.

They were taken down several levels to the dungeons, and Stone was dumped to the floor in a cell. He hadn’t lost consciousness. His mind seemed to work well, but his speech was slow and slurred, and he had trouble making any muscles work. A young smith Stone had seen earlier in the stables appeared, and shackles were placed on his wrists and ankles, joined by a thick chain. After putting the shackles on his wrists, the smith twisted the chain, and stared at it. Stone looked down, and saw there was a flaw in the metal. He looked up, and the smith just smiled, and turned the chain back around so the flaw was hidden.

Stone spent the night in the cell. No food was brought. He started to regain control over his body after about four hours, and two hours later was back to normal. He tried to force the chains on his wrists apart, but even with the flawed metal he was unable to separate the chains. There were no windows in the cell, but eventually Captain Mitchell appeared with the same six men. There was no wheelbarrow this time. He was hoisted to his feet, and led by the six men with drawn swords, which they used to poke him several times, breaking skin and causing small wounds. He was unable to move fast, due to the chain on his ankle, so the nearby smith was made to remove those fetters, leaving him only bound at the wrists. As they passed windows in the castle, it was apparent that it was mid-morning. Stone saw Arthur fly past at one point. He hoped that Rayla wouldn’t try to storm the castle on her own to free him.

When they arrived again at Sir Mowath’s desk, he merely led the men into the Duke’s chamber. “The prisoner has arrived, Your Grace,” Mowath said.

“I must object to this treatment, Your Grace,” Stone shouted. “I conquered your enemies and this is how I am repaid.”

“Sir Mowath has told me of your cowardly activities,” the Duke said. “You fled the scene of the battle, and he had to take over and save my Duchy.”

Stone then explained exactly what had happened, with Mowath interrupting by saying “Lies, lies,” to everything. The Duke apparently believed Mowath’s fanciful tales and confirmed them mainly by saying that Stone had never left his horse to fight. When Stone admitted he had not dismounted, but fought from horseback, the Duke laughed.

“You can’t fight from a horse, any six-year-old serving boy knows that,” the Duke said. “You have been accused of cowardice and will pay for it. Bring forth the executioner.”

Stone saw a big, well-muscled man with an axe appear. The blade was nearly 18 inches across in a frightful curve. His six captors prodded him again with their swords, forcing him to kneel at a wooden block with a curve for his neck.

The executioner took position, and started to swing his great axe. The guards backed off, not wanting to be splattered. Suddenly Stone went into battle mode, and a solution appeared for him. As the great axe descended slowly, Stone put his hands behind his head, with the chain crossing his neck. It was this that the axe hit, and bounced off, with the blade jumping back at the axeman. But the axe had hit the flaw in the chain, and it split. Stone stood up. The guards came at him, but now his hands were free. There was about a foot of chain still attached to each of his wrists, and he found they made a formidable weapon. He slashed them out at the faces of the men attacking him, and one or two at a time they went crumbling to the floor with broken faces.

Soon there was only Stone, Mitchell, Mowath and the Duke standing. Stone saw his sword was now sitting on the Duke’s table, so he darted over and grabbed it.

“Get him, Mitch,” Mowath shouted, too afraid to draw his own sword. The Captain approached, and a swat with the flat of Pate knocked him sliding across the room. Mowath turned and ran, leaving the Duke standing in fear. A spot of warm liquid appear between his legs and ran down to the floor.

“This is a sword of truth,” Stone said. “But it requires blood to work.” With that he made a shallow slit from the right cheek of the Duke, across to his chin. The sword and the wound made the Duke realize that it was Stone’s story of the battle that was true, not Mowath’s. But the Duke didn’t realize that right away. He was too busy screaming: as though the wound had been deeper than the mere scratch. It would require stitches, and would leave a lifelong scar, but it was by no means as serious as the Duke’s screams hinted.

Stone went out of the door, knocking guards left and right with the flat of his sword. Soon he was far enough away that the guards went to the Duke’s aid rather than coming after him. He headed to the stables. He found the smith there standing next to a loaded wagon and four horses.

“I must leave,” the smith said. “They will blame me and will kill me and my family.” I have sent a messenger to get them to come to the road and join me.

“Come with me,” Stone said. “My town has a smith, but there will be work for two.”

Just then there was a smashing sound coming from the nearby stable. Doug appeared, towing a stable door attached to a rope behind him. Pate sliced the rope, dropping the door, and Stone slid onto Doug bareback. They led the smith and his wagon out, and soon were in the inner bailey. Men were trying to lower the portcullis and close the door, but arrows from outside were picking them off as they tried to secure the exit. Doug led the wagon through, picking his way through the injured men, most of who had arrows sticking from their arms or legs.

Rayla was sitting upon Beauty, and Doug moved over to nuzzle the other horse. “Thanks for the help, dear,” Stone told the girl. The two pack horses were off to the side.

“I’ve spent the last two days on that roof,” she pointed. “Hoping to get a clear shot through the windows at that bastard that took you. Arthur told me what had happened. He didn’t see how you escaped, though. That should make a good story for the campfire tonight.”

“It was thanks to this one,” Stone gestured to the smith. “We need to pick up his family. Where will they be,” he asked the man.”

“On the northern road out of the city,” he said. “But I fear our freedom will be short lived. Mowath will have an army after us before we get 10 miles. Look, there is my family.”

Stone saw them. A woman and five children ranged from a teenage boy to a toddler of about three years, and three other adults. The three largest children, and their mother, each carried a bag. They piled into the wagon and the mother’s bag clanked as she tossed it into the wagon. Clearly it contained her treasured pots and pans. Bags carried by the children smelled as though they might contain food. Soon all were on the wagon, and the woman was beside her husband, berating him.

“What have you done, Harrold,” she said. “A good job at the castle and then a messenger says you are fleeing. What happened?”

“Peace, Sybil,” he said. “The big man on the big horse is a hero. Soldiers coming back from the battle told me how he led them into destroying the Konan army and preserving Sarn. Then that rat Mowath made me put him into chains. He was drugged, but I used a flawed chain.”

“And thus he saved my life,” Stone added in.

“But there will be an army after us, won’t there?” Sybil said.

“Yes, but we have an army of our own,” Rayla told the woman. “Stone will stop them, and if needed I will help. I am pretty handy with this bow. But who are these other three.”

“Oh they are only slaves, Sybil said derisively. “They can walk.” The three each had bags, which they were allowed to deposit on the wagon.”

“They are slaves no more. Where we are going there are no slaves. If you wish, you can hire them as servants. But the are free as off now.”

“You cannot do that,” screeched Sybil. “They are our property. We paid for them.”

“You cannot own a person in my world,” Stone said sternly. “If you would like to complain to the Duke, and army should be coming this way in a short time. I would like to get moving soon though.”

“Is there enough work where you are taking us to allow us to afford servants,” the smith said as the wagon started rolling again, with the three walking alongside.

“There should be,” Stone said. “Of course you could work alone, but you will be more productive with knowledgeable servants.”

“Yes,” the smith agreed. “They know a lot about smithing. Both will be journeymen, not apprentices. Is 12 silver a week fair?”

One man nodded, but the other shook his head. “Maia is pregnant, although it doesn’t show yet. I will want to have my own household. Twelve would be fair with room and board, but I don’t want that. How about 20 silver a week, six 12 hour days a week.”

Sybil screeched again. “Twenty? You bankrupt us. And for so few hours. There are 16 hours of daylight in the summer. I suppose your woman will want pay too? I’ll not pay her more that 2 silvers a week, especially when she is with child.”

“Am I truly free, milord,” the woman said.

“Aye,” Stone replied. “You can choose to work where you will. There will be other positions open in the community we are to join. And call me Captain. I am nobody’s lord.”

The former slave turned to her ex-mistress and nearly spat out the words: “I will never work for you again. I will find other work, even if it is cleaning cesspits.”

“Hrumph,” Sybil said. “Cheeky lot.”

Now Rayla got into the argument. “And I want her on the wagon. It is not proper that a pregnant woman should walk. There is room for three on the front seat. Have your daughter move to the back with the other children.”

“I will not sit next to a slave,” Sybil shrieked.

“Feel free to get down and walk then,” Stone said. “And remember, there are no slaves here.”

The wagon stopped again, and Tiress climbed aboard. Her husband Dranson was allowed to ride Glory, the pack horse, who had no pack. The other slave, Kinderson was allowed to ride in the back of the wagon. Sybil pushed in as close to her husband as possible, while Tiress sat tightly against far edge of the wagon seat, leaving nearly a foot of space between the two.

Stone looked at the pair as the wagon started forward again. He wondered if the pair would cause trouble later in the trip north.

It was closer to 12 miles when the chase caught up with them. Stone ordered the smith to keep going, and Doug stopped in the middle of the road. Rayla led Beauty off to the side.

The chase turned out to be 250 men, and they formed a great semicircle around Doug and Stone, with Mowath and Mitchell in the front. Stone noticed that many of the soldiers had saddles with stirrups, and recognized more than a few from his cavalry troop.

“You are surrounded,” Mowath shouted as he and Mitchell dismounted, drawing swords. “Surrender peacefully and we will take you back alive.”

“For some reason I don’t trust you,” Stone replied. “And I admit to not having enjoyed my last stay in your dungeon. I think it is time we end this.”

With that Doug leapt forward, knocking Mitchell aside. He drew Pate, and swung down on Mowath. The sword sliced through his sword, held up in a feeble defense. It then continued its path, hitting the man on the neck and continuing through his body to come out beneath his arm. Then, to placate Pate, he made another slice before the remaining torso fell, slicing through it as well.

“Men, dismount and att…” Captain Mitchell started, but an arrow through the cheek and out the other side silenced his command. A few men dismounted, and drew swords, but most stayed on their mounts, confused and leaderless. None came at Stone, to his pleasure.

“You five,” he told the dismounted men. “Find a bedroll or something to wrap up what is left of your leader. Take him back to the castle and present him to the Duke. As for your Captain, put him on his horse. It’s going to hurt a ton taking that arrow out. You might want to wait until a healer is handy.”

“As for the rest of you, I know many of you, and fought with some.” Stone said. “This is where you declare your loyalty: to the Duke, or to me. I feel I will need a bit of an army soon, and any who wish to join me may. Just move over to that side. The rest of you may accompany your leaders back to Sarn.”

All 75 of the men with stirrups joined, as well as a dozen or so of the others. The rest turned and followed the wounded Mitchell and the horse that had the remains of Mowath roped to it.

Stone turned to the men. “Wait here for a few seconds, and then walk after me. I want to talk to those on the wagon before they see you as an army about to attack them.”

Doug soon galloped up after the wagon, where Sybil was looking back frightfully as Rayla and Stone quickly caught up.

“There are so many left,” the smith’s wife said tearfully. “What will they do to us?”

“Protect you,” Stone said as he pulled Doug up by the wagon. “They have decided to join us. The others … you can just see them heading back to the city … are a defeated army. The men who joined us are each worth 10 of them. Or will be when a few finish their training.”

Stone

9.

The wagon ride was very slow, barely more than walking speed, but they made it to a camping spot just as dusk was falling. A mile or so before the spot, identified by Arthur, Rayla rode off to the east and a grove of trees. Stone noticed and called two nearby guards.

“Follow her,” he commanded.

“Keep her safe?” the older guard suggested.

“No. If there is any danger she will keep you safe. But she is hunting, and for large game to fill all of your bellies tonight. She will need help bringing back her take. Stay well behind so you don’t disrupt her hunt.”

Stone soon pulled into the campsite and set up a camp around the wagon. There were so many guardsmen that there was little for most of them to do. Some went off to get firewood, while the others tethered their horses, and the wagons, sufficiently far apart that they would all be able to graze well during the evening.

Stone started the fire, and soon had it blazing cheerfully. He didn’t worry that it would attract attention: Arthur would notify them if any other groups approached.

“Tiress, get the pots from the wagon, and start the supper for the family,” Sybil ordered.

“Do it yourself,” the former slave snapped back.

“What foods do you have?” Stone asked the smith’s wife.

“Not enough for all this lot,” the woman snapped back.

“These men are protecting you,” Stone said. “Without them you would be certain to be plucked up by slavers. Is that what you want for yourself and your children?”

“Slaves,” Sybil said, clearly never having considered herself in that role.

“Tiress, would you get some of the vegetables you brought sliced up and boiling in some water,” Stone said, and she meekly agreed. “And Mistress, would you fill your largest pot with water.”

“That is slave work,” Sybil snapped back.

“Yes, but we have no slaves in this train. And while you are getting water, have your oldest daughter help Tiress,” Stone said.

“But …” the woman seemed to want to say something else, but was unable to.

When the pot was on the fire and boiling the three hunters returned. Rayla was successful, and a gutted deer carcass was strapped onto the back of each of the two horses of the guards. The kills were flopped on the wagon, which was serving as a table, and Rayla and one guard each started chopping up the carcasses, and throwing chunks of venison into the pot. It would be a meaty stew, and should feed the near 100 people in the train.

An hour later it was dark, and only the light from the fire illuminated the campsite. Sybil had fed her children, and put them to bed, continually looking to Tiress, who once would have looked after the job. The former slave was not afraid of work, so long as it was not something ordered by her former mistress. When all had been fed, she scoured the big pot clean, and filled it with more water for the morning. There was a bit of oatmeal in the food that Sybil had brought, and in the morning there would be a small bite for each man, and a decent breakfast for the children.

Stone was not worried that they had used all the food that Sybil had brought, to her dismay. They would reach Greenford before the next night, and there was also some boiled venison in a smaller pot that would give the children and the pregnant Tiress something to chew on during the next leg of the trip. The soldiers were used to eating only once a day on campaign, and would be pleased with a spoon of oatmeal.

In the morning the camp rose with the sun. Most of the men had slept rough, with only a bed sheet and a cover to protect them. The smith and his family had claimed the space under the wagon, and Rayla and Stone had cuddled together under her bed sheet. She seemed more comfortable cuddling with the big man, who certainly generated enough heat to keep her warm.

In the morning Tiress made the oatmeal while Sybil attempted to clean up her children in the nearby river. The men used a spot farther downstream as a latrine, so the water nearest the camp was clean.

The sun was not up long when the camp was ready to start moving again. The surprising thing came when Sybil cautiously approached her former slave: “Tiress, I would like to hire you to care for the children. They are more used to you than I, and they miss you. I will pay you two and a half, no three silvers every six-day, and I will try not to be as sharp in speaking to you. If I order you to do something, know that I am asking, not ordering. You will be off from 1 to 5 each afternoon, since the evenings and morning are busy times.”

“I will do this,” Tiress said. “I have raised those children since they were babies, and it has hurt me to have ignored their needs, particularly the needs that were not being met. But the agreement will only be until we reach Newtown.” She used the name of their destination, which was what Rayla and Stone had started to refer to it.

Stone had little to do in getting the company moving again. There was an old sergeant named Pothman who took charge of the soldier. After they had been moving for about an hour, Stone rode up to Pothman. “Will you manage the train for the next few hours? We should approach Greenford around noon, but we are too many to just appear in the little village. Rayla and I will ride ahead, and alert the people that a big group will be appearing, so that they can feed us. We will also buy more supplies for the road. There will be at least one more night camp between there and Greenwood, and one or two before we get to the barrens.”

In Greenwood they went first to the stable, where they announced that there would be 100 horses appearing in two hours. Then there was a discussion with the saloon master, who ordered more people to work for food preparation immediately. He said he could only handle 25 at a time, so Stone said that there would be three sittings for lunch. Both the stableman and the barkeep sent off for more townspeople to come and help. Everyone in town could use a little extra coin, and Rayla doled out golds and silvers in advance so that people would know the company was paying, not extorting services.

There were nine or ten young boys in the street, too young even to work for the stables, and Stone called them over. They looked up timidly at the giant of a man on a giant horse.

“You boys,” Stone said. “Would you like to join the army?”

The boys shyly nodded yes, but one boy spoke out “We are too little to be soldiers.”

“Yes, but not to be scouts,” Stone replied. “In two hours almost 100 soldiers will appear, and I want to send some of them out on a mission. They will need scouts who know the town to help them on their way. They will need to visit all the houses in the town and in the nearby farms. If you do this, you will each earn a copper fourthing.”

A quarter of a cent was big money to these village boys, and when the advance guard of 25 men appeared, Stone took them to the boys. “You lads get the short straw,” Stone said. “You will eat on the third shift, in a little over an hour. Between then and now I want you to visit each house in town and the environs, and tell people to meet here in the street in two bells. Take up one of these lads on your saddle, and they can tell you who lives where, and how many. I want all adults, and especially all slaves. Four to a patrol, plus the boy.”

The men rode off, leaving four sad lads alone. Stone ordered the remaining guard to fetch 15 more men from the company, and soon there were another four patrols headed out with the now-happy boys riding in front of a guardsman.

The stable boys had been pumping water for two hours, but thirsty horses were emptying the troughs nearly as fast as they could be filled. There were only 16 stalls in the barn, and Doug and his ladies, and the wagon horses got those, and were munching on oats and hay. On the street bales of hay had been plopped here and there, and soldiers were feeding their horses in groups of six to eight.

The smith tended to five horses that had suffered in the trip so far, most from pulling the wagon. He agreed to take in three of the spare horses from the train, in payment for his work, and to trade five healthy horses from his stable to replace the lame ones.

Wheelbarrows of supplies that Rayla had ordered appeared and were loaded onto the wagon: 100 pound bags of potatoes, 50 pound bags of onions and turnips, and smaller bags of spices and other items.

Stone and Rayla ate in the last group, with Stone preparing a speech in his head. They finished and went outside to see the wide main street packed with people. There was a small line of boys lined up, and Stone asked Rayla to give each boy a halfpenny, double what they had been promised.

Meanwhile, he stood on the stoop of the tavern and shouted. With his height no platform was necessary.

“People of Greenford,” he spoke in a loud enough voice that all could here. “Times are changing. I have been told that tax collectors come through every few months. What rate do they charge?”

“It’s supposed to be 25%,” a man near the front said.

“But they usually take 50%,” another added.

“And if you don’t have cash, then they will take what they want,” said a woman.

“Including your wife or daughter, for the night,” another man said.

“Well, that ends now, if you wish,” Stone said. “You see that we have a fairly large army. How many come to collect the taxes?”

“Always in pairs,” the first man said. “But if we were to resist, then the Duke would send out an army to collect.”

“Probably raze the town,” another man said.

“Well, you can see that we have a fairly large army here,” Stone said. “I am suggesting leaving a group of eight soldiers here. They will have to billet in houses in the town, but be assured that the families that take them in will receive a silver a week to compensate for the food and lodging. They will have three patrols of two, with each working eight-hour shifts. The fourth pair will be at ease for the week: unless there is a need for reinforcements. Then they will head for Greenwood, where another eight men can come back as reinforcements. If more men are needed, then all you see here will come down from Newtown, another day up the road.”

“And we will pay for all this with more taxes,” a man said scornfully.

“Eventually yes,” Stone said. “But it sounds like you have been taxed hard of late. Therefore there will be no taxes for a year, and then only 10%. And no taxes at all from Sarn, ever again.”

There was a positive murmur through the crowd at this information, so Stone started on the negative news. “The only thing I ask of this is that there will be no slavery in the village or surrounding areas. I would ask that all the slaves in the crowd move to this end of the street.” People started moving immediately. Stone noticed that some were families with children. One of the boys who had ridden as scouts was among them.

“We need our slaves,” a prosperous looking man called out. “We cannot run our businesses without them.”

“Then you will have to hire them as servants,” Stone said. “They will work for you, and you will pay them a living wage: the amount that you would pay a free worker. If you don’t pay them enough, or if you mistreat them, they can leave and take another job, or move to Greenwood or Newtown, where they will be paid and treated as they should.”

“We won’t make any money if we have to pay wages,” the man complained.

“If you can’t make money without slaves then you must not be a very good manager,” Stone said. “If wages result in higher costs, you just have to charge more for your goods. And remember, now your former slaves will be new customers.”

The man did not look convinced, but Stone held firm. As before, a few older house servants begged to remain slaves, and Stone agreed, but repeated the rules for slavery that he had formulated for the Newtown people.

As well, the former slaves were allowed to travel north with the band. He could see merchants going into the slave group and try to negotiate with their former slaves, and here and there a handshake could be seen. Stone listened in to the man who had complained: he was apparently a lumber mill owner and had many slaves. None agreed to his terms: he offered a low salary and apparently had whipped slaves in the past. Almost all of his workers opted to join the group heading out of town an hour later.

There were 15 slaves who joined the trek north, including nine from the lumber mill. Rayla bought another wagon and two horses to pull it from the smith, to allow everyone a ride. That night they camped out again, and a bigger meal was given, thanks to the vegetables that could be added to the venison stew.

“I’ll have to hunt again soon,” Rayla said as the last of the venison was added into the pot.

“Well, we will be in Greenwood for supper, I think,” Stone said. “If I recall from our last trip, they had beef farmers near there. It will be a nice change to have a beef stew instead of just venison again.” The new horses on the wagons had them moving a bit faster, and everyone was riding a horse or a wagon. “We will spend the night there. I think if we offer a penny a person, the people of Greenwood will let the people and guards sleep in their barns and houses. That should only cost a half crown in total.”

“We spent nearly a crown in Greenford,” Rayla said. “Between the meals and the fodder for the animals. Of course the guard is smaller by the eight we left there. I hope they understood the signals that Arthur will make to them if he sees danger approaching. They seemed to find it hard to believe that a bird is so intelligent.”

The trip to Greenwood was close to the one in Greenford. The main difference was that the town meeting occurred in the morning, just before the band was ready to leave. Eight men were left as a guard, and 15 more former slaves joined those headed north.

The trip from Greenwood north might take two or three days. Stone had no idea where the others would have established the town. His plan was to stick to the river until they reached signs that former burned-out farms were in use again, and then ask to see where they should seek the new town.

However it was late on the second day when they found the town, nestled along the banks of the Green river, or stream as it was here. They crested a ridge, and then saw a community mostly of tents, although a few lumber buildings were erected. It was less than a month since Stone and Rayla had left the others, and they seemed to have been busy.

A longer chapter this time: Dawn.

Stone

10. The dam

As the new group appeared over the ridge, Carlson noted the numerous armed men and called out for the Militia. But even before the dozen or more men were armed and mounted, he could see the huge body of Stone on his big horse and relaxed. He rode out to meet the incoming group.

“Hail, Captain,” he called to Stone as they got within shouting distance. “Welcome to Greenstone. Things are a bit rough here, but every day we make more progress. I apologize that the militia were not so quick in reacting, but I doubt they would have been much use against such a huge force.”

There were now 15 militia behind Carlson, with more putting down their tools in the town and joining in.

“Your militia will be needed less now,” Stone replied. “These are men from the Duke’s guard, and many fought with me in the late war with Kona. Have you needed to call your group out before?”

“We had a small slave train come through last week,” Carlson reported. “Only 23 slaves and four other wagons. The four guards and the slaver were killed, and the slaves freed. The goods on the other wagons were much needed by the town. We are short of so much.”

Stone told Sgt. Pothman to take charge of the military component of the party, and told Carlson to assign one or more of his men to take charge of the former slaves in the party. Carlson rode along between Rayla and Stone as they entered the town with the former guard pointing out various buildings, mostly canvas tents.

“That is our saloon,” Carlson said of the largest tent. “It has a wooden floor already. We have many men working in the forest, harvesting lumber, but it is slow work without proper tools. We hope to build a lumber mill, but it will be some time. We need to get a rip saw, as well as finish damming the river to create a mill pond. This next tent is our smith, who spends much of his time making nails for the construction. Hail, Neil, look who comes.”

The smith looked up, and put down his tools when he saw who appeared. “Milord … I mean Captain. And Milady. Welcome to our little town, still under construction. I fear that I have not been able to accomplish your task of making swords from the slave chains. I can shape them, but they have not enough strength for swords.”

“Hail Neil,” Stone said. “I bring a smith from the Duke’s castle, with his two freed assistants.”

Neil perked at the news of three more experienced smiths. He had only two townsmen working for him pumping the bellows. But they were little more than apprentices. Even if the other two were merely journeymen, they would be able to take over the production of nails, freeing him up for other tasks. And the new smith proved he was a master in the next few seconds.

“I see your problem, master smith,” the man on the wagon said. “You have been trying to shape the chain into a sword, and the strength will never be there. Instead you should open the links and straighten them, using the rods left to form the sword. Then you have linear strength, and not cross weakness.”

“Of course,” Neil said. “I would have figured it out eventually, but swords are not my forte. But you must have much experience with weapons at the castle.”

Harrold nodded, and the two started talking shop, discussing the color of the heated steel. Stone turned back to Carlson. “I know those words, but not the meaning. Let the smiths talk. I was worried that the two of them might be competitors, but there is much work for all. They will wind up as partners, or comrades, I expect. But I did notice that the fire was heated by coal, I think.”

“No Captain,” Carlson said. “It is coke. There is coal north of town, and five miners digging it out. Many of the people use coal for cooking, but a man set up a coke works with two helpers. The smith is his main customer and uses all they can produce. We use coal for the communal supper fires, or wood. There is a great deal of branches that result from the lumbering operation.”

“What about farms?” Stone asked.

“About 50 farms have been established in the area,” Carlson reported. “There are another 15 or 20 vacant ones. Both sheep and goats went feral when the original farm owners were taken. Men have gathered them up. There are now three sheep farms, and a great deal of wool was sheared from them. It is pretty dirty, but some women are trying to clean it up. A woodsman is trying to build a spinning wheel, but it is slow going. The goats provide milk for the children, although cattle would be nice.”

“Aye,” Stone agreed. “There are cattle in Greenwood. We should send a troop down there and try to buy some. I’m not sure if they are dairy or beef, but that will result in another farm or two. What other farms are there?”

“Many grain farms,” Carlson said. “The farmers found that the crops left when the slavers came are coming along nicely, and should provide a crop this fall at harvest time. One family has planted potatoes, although it is a late crop. And there is an orchard. A man knowledgeable about pruning says that this fall the crop will mainly be crabapples good only for cider, but says after he prunes the trees back there should be a good harvest next fall. There is another family that is keeping bees, and hope to have honey for sale soon.”

“So what is there to drink, other than cider?” Stone asked.

“Water, of course,” the river is very clean. “And the saloon owner has tried brewing beer. The first batch was so vile it had to be thrown out, but the last two batches have been getting better. I suspect that his next attempt, which I understand will be available tomorrow, might actually be good.”

“What of food,” Rayla asked. “Are there hunters?”

“Yes there are five out with bows right now,” Carlson said. “They have mostly bagged small game, which augments the stew each evening. There is a free communal meal each evening. A smaller breakfast is available for the children, as well as a lunch. Adults wanting to eat at that time must pay, and there is not much coin in the town. Much is done through barter.”

“I should go and look up those hunters,” Rayla said. “Arthur has already spotted them, as well as a herd of deer that they will miss entirely if they continue on the same course.”

She rode off on Beauty, and Carlson headed to the river with Stone. “This is the big project in town,” the guard said. “We are damming the river to make a millpond. The children who are too young to work are playing in the mud down river.”

“Mr. Stone,” a shrill voice called out. Lillibet, the little girl from the river, was running towards the horses as fast as her little legs could carry her. “You came back!” She grabbed onto his boot, the only part of him she could reach, and hugged it tightly.

Stone reached down with a hand, and lifted the small child into his saddle in front of him. “Hi Lillibet, what are you doing?”

“I was playin’,” she lisped. “I gets to play in the morning’. After lunch I gots to go to school.”

“School?” Stone said. He hadn’t realized that there was a school already. “What are they teaching you?”

“Readin’, writin’, and doing sums. Look, I can make an ‘ell’,” with that she traced a crude L onto the saddle. “What is the letter for your name?”

“It is an S, and it goes like this,” Stone said, tracing an S on the saddle in front of the girl.

“I like it, it is a pretty letter,” she said, tracing it several times with improving accuracy each time.

“Where is your Daddy?” Stone said, enjoying the refreshing little one.

“He is at the dam,” she said. “I can’t go there because it is dane-ger-us.”

“Well then, I guess I should put you down, and you can run back to your friends,” Stone said, bending over to help the girl get to the ground. She hugged his foot again, and said: “I love you Mr. Stone. Thank you for teaching me your name.” Then she scampered off.

“She is quite a cute little one,” Carlson said as they reached the dam. “We hope to be able to run two mills off this single mill pond. When harvest comes, three quarters of the power will run the gristmill, and other times it will be three quarters for the sawmill. The problem is we have a shortage of equipment: we need mill stones for the gristmill, and blades for the sawmill. We aren’t even sure where to order them from.

The dam was now about 12 feet high. It was made of trees cut in the forest, and then dressed to have five sides. Three of the sides were at right angles, but the fifth side had two sides removed, to make a point at the bottom. Once a log was set, men would gouge out a V into the top, and the point at the bottom of the next log would fit into the notch making a stronger connection. The water level was about three feet below the top of the dam, leaving enough room for the men to work.

“Are you blocking all the water,” Stone asked.

“Right now we are,” Carlson said, “we hope to have the pond full when we complete the work, or soon after.”

“But there are other communities downriver that depend on the water,” Stone pointed out. “You are draining their supplies. I want the dam gates open from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day. Those are the hours the mills will run once they are operational, and hopefully they will provide enough water for the towns downriver. Your pond will still fill during the other 15 hours in a day, hopefully enough to rise to full level. What about the pond? Is it eliminating good cropland?”

“No Captain,” Carlson said. “It is a rocky area up there. We sent prospectors up there as soon as we settled, and found nothing of value on the valley floor. We found the coal seams, up above the level the pond will reach. There are other materials up there. Several men are experimenting with the slate rocks. It would be nice if we could cut out slate roof tiles. Our thatchers are overworked on roofs now, and the nicer buildings will want slate. Plus we can export them, and get some cash into the town. There is also marble up there. And the prospectors haven’t given up on their dreams of finding gold.”

“The marble could turn out to be as good as gold,” Stone said. “If you can cut it into slabs of an inch or two, it makes wonderful countertops. Beautiful and hard wearing.”

“What is that building?” Stone pointed to a frame building under construction.

“That is going to be the sawmill,” Carlson said. “Ranston, the one whose wife had twins on the way up, is building it, although he doesn’t know much about mill work. He is crafty with wood though. He saw all the edgings that were being split off to square the dam boards and gathered them up and brought them down to where he wanted to site his mill. They were waste to everyone else, but he has been using them as boards.”

They approached closer, and saw that the D-shaped pieces of wood were being attached to upright posts. Ranston explained that he could only get enough nails for every other row, and the intermediate ones were lashed to the others with deer gut. “I’ll come back and nail the others when more nails are available,” he told Stone.

“You are quite some distance from the dam,” Stone said. “How will your mill work?”

“I will build a big sluice that will run from the top of the dam, or dam near it,” Ranston quipped. “That will turn my wheel, which I still have to build. I’m not sure about getting a blade though.”

Stone looked back, and saw the men on the dam had stopped working. “Is it noon already?” he asked Carlson. A glance in the sky made it clear that there would be another two hours of working time.

“No, I think the men are trying to figure out how to move the big spruce log into position. All the logs so far have been 30 to 50 feet long with two or three on each level. But you can see that the dam is already bulging a bit. They felled a big spruce tree that was 200 feet tall, with 140 feet usable, enough to span the dam in one piece. It will shore up the layers below it and above, and make the dam secure. But it is so big that the men can’t move it. They are probably trying to come up with a way to get it to the dam.

Stone slid off his horse and went to what he thought was the middle of the log. He bent, and grabbed the wood and strained. The wood didn’t even budge.

“They say it weighs over 600 pounds,” Carlson said. “I doubt even you can move it.”

Stone tried again, and as he strained, he felt power flowing into his body. Finally the log moved an inch, and then two. Finally with a gasp he lifted it a full two feet off the ground. Men at several points along the log through short cross logs under the big pole, so that when Stone dropped it, it was resting on those.

“My God,” Carlson said. “That was magnificent. The men will be able to start dressing the log now. Each side they take off to square it up will reduce its weight more, so it will be lighter when it is completely dressed. But I suspect that only you will be able to turn it, probably by lunch they will have split one side off.”

Stone was exhausted, and his arms were burning. He could barely get back on Doug for the ride back into town.

«Rayla has found the hunters, and they have killed three deer. All by her arrows: the men are not quick enough to bring down big game. She is giving them lessons in archery as she goes,» Doug said, apparently relaying a message from Arthur.

«There is a beaver pond on the way back, flooding a great part of the forest,» Doug said. «She wants to know if you want it cleared. Arthur said there is a mostly dry creek bed that will run into the Green about a mile above the town.»

“Tell her yes, and then to hurry back.” The creek would provide more water for the mill pond. Although it would mean the beavers would have to find another area to live. He wondered if there was a business for some in trapping.

Stone decided to head out to meet the hunters: he found he was missing the pretty redhead. They met several miles out of town, with three of the hunters carrying carcasses on their pack animals. The men looked proud of themselves, even though Stone knew it was Rayla who deserved the credit.

“Good work,” he told her.

“Not just me,” she replied. “It was a team effort. Arthur spotted the game, and the men circled around to scare them towards me. I managed to get three quick arrows off. Lucky hits.”

“Like you ever make an unlucky hit,” Stone said. He noticed the respect the men were giving her, especially in sharing the glory. It intensified when she got into the communal supper area, and announced that “the men” had shot three deer, to the cheers of the women. Up until most of the meat in the pot had been old goat, or old sheep, and not much of it when divided up in the stew. Tonight’s meal would be heavy on meat.

Stone took Rayla on a tour of town, on foot, showing him what he had learned in the morning. “What is that building?” Rayla asked when she saw someone taking venison strips into it on a platter. “That is the smokehouse, milady,” a woman passing by said. “With so much meat coming in today, we need to preserve some before it goes bad. People laughed at Tyler for building it, but when they get good meat in a few weeks, they will be glad he built it.”

They gradually worked their way to the dam site, where the men were just finished splitting off the first slab from the log. They saw Stone, and urged him to turn the log so the flat side was down. Once it was turned, the men would be able to slice off the two sides, and then dress the peaked top, which would be the bottom when the log was placed.

Stone took off his shirt this time, and grabbed the log in the middle. It was lighter now, and not stuck into the muck of the forest floor. But he still had to strain mightily before he could lift it and rotate it with the flat down. When he finished, he was sore again, but Rayla came up and rubbed his aching muscles and helped him put his shirt back on.

“Wow, you have quite a set of muscles on that body,” she said. “I guess I didn’t notice, when we started out and you were naked. Or else I didn’t care.” She continued to rub his arms, and Stone realized that he had taken off his shirt to show off. It didn’t bother him that she was so impressed. For some reason impressing her was important.”

The two just wondered the town after the noon meal, which Stone paid for both Rayla and himself, to get a bit of coin into the pockets of the women making the meal, and feeding the little ones. He also requested that the five hunters also get a free meal, since they had contributed to the stew that was already being prepared for supper.

In the afternoon they wandered the town, stopping in at the tent being used for a schoolhouse. They had aimed at a quiet peek that would not interrupt the class. But fate decided otherwise: as soon as they popped into the room, a small shrill voice cried out: “Mr. Stone. And the pretty lady.” It was Lillibet, and soon the entire room was in an uproar. Stone stepped into the room, where an elderly man who apparently knew his letters led the class. “Quiet, all you lot, or there will be no supper tonight,” Stone shouted, and the excited children quickly obeyed. “School is important. You are free, not slaves, and you need to know your numbers and letters, and how to count money if you want to be successful. I want you all to promise to work very hard and do as your teacher asks. He is very smart, and wants you to be smart too.”

“But I want to be a soldier when I grow up,” one of the older boys, nearly 10, said. “I don’t need any of this for that?”

“Oh really?” Stone said. “You saw the soldiers that came in with me today? Almost half of them can read and write, and the others plan to come to the classes here this evening to learn. And if you become a soldier, you will want to be paid, won’t you? How will you know you aren’t being cheated if you don’t learn your numbers? Even those soldiers who can’t read and write yet know their numbers.”

The chastened boy promised to work hard and listen closely, and Stone went to the door.

“I understand the older children take the morning class, and as I said, there will be one in the evening for adults,” Stone said to Rayla. “Remind me that I shall have to pay the teacher. I think we should pay two silvers per class, or six for the week. Those are long hours and he deserves to be compensated well.

So, are you liking this? I seem to get about 600 reads and 150 kudos per chapter, but not so many comments: Dawn.

Stone

11. The school

Sweet smells were coming from the communal eating area as the stew started cooking for the meal in a few hours. Rayla and Stone had left the school and were admiring the house being built next to it. Unlike most of the buildings in the town, this one was being built of stone, with a mason fitting stones to the front wall. After watching the craftsman working, with his several helpers darting about to keep him supplied with new stones, Stone spoke: “What place is this? It looks very impressive.”

“Only the best for the Captain,” the mason said while setting a stone in mortar. He then turned around and saw who was asking. “Why Captain, this is to be your house. May I show you through?”

Inside the place was a hive of activity. Six men were sanding a pine floor, and another group was applying plaster to the walls. The first room was massive, larger than the entire school tent. There was a massive stone fireplace along the middle of the longer side, apparently to heat the room.

“This is the sleeping area for yourself,” the mason said, showing a suite at the rear with a bedroom and a large closet. On the other side is a maid’s room and an indoor toilet. It will be the finest house in town, with a slate roof. We should have it done in about two weeks.”

“This is too much for us,” Stone said. “We are not royalty or anything, just common people. But I thank you for all the effort you have put into it. It is beautiful.”

Later as they walked down the street, Stone commented to Rayla: “It is too much for us. We just need a tent somewhere. Then he looked at the tent holding the school. But …”

He was interrupted by a feminine sound from behind them that was an odd mixture of a scream and a call. They both turned around and saw the seamstress that had presented Rayla with her dress on that first week.

“My lady,” she said as she darted up to them. “What has happened to your dress?”

“The dress I have been wearing continually for about a month?” Rayla said. “I have managed to wash it in the evening at times, and let it dry over night, but it has been getting a lot of use.”

“The back, where you sit: what happened there?”

“That would have happened when I was sitting on a slate roof for 48 hours straight in Sarn. It did get a bit wrinkled.”

The woman was behind Rayla now, inspecting the fabric. “It can be fixed,” she said. “And we, myself and the others, have made you a few more dresses. Can you come with me to try them on? And I will want the blue one for a few days to make repairs. Oh, there is a seam coming loose.” She poked her finger into a hole at the seam where the arm attached to the shoulder.

“Can I leave you for a bit?” Rayla asked Stone. “You can wait, or go off and explore some more.”

“I’ll wander about,” the big man said. “The town isn’t so big that we won’t be able to find each other quickly.”

Rayla left with the woman, and Stone walked down the street, only getting just past the school when a young teen boy ran up to him. “They want you at the dam, Captain,” he said. “Can you come?”

“I will be there in a minute,” Stone said. “I just need to get my horse.”

At the dam, he discovered that the men had finished dressing the long pine timber, and wanted to move it into position. Stone would be the muscle. He lifted the beam quite easily, and carried it over to the dam. It weighed about half what it had originally, but the scaffolding along the river bent alarmingly as he walked out into the middle of the stream. There was a man on each end of the river with crowbars, the only two in the town. They would force the beam into position.

“Good here,” shouted the man on the far bank. “Here too,” replied the man on the near side.

“What? No!” Stone said. Where he was the beam was over open water, a full foot from the next course down. He gingerly set the beam down, and it balanced on the two endpoints. There was a bend in the dam, causing the beam to fail to line up across.

“The dam is buckled,” he said. “We will need to push it back.” He asked the men with the crowbars to move about 20 feet closer to the middle, and wedge their bars in. “I’m going to try and push the dam back. Hopefully we can snap it into place.”

Stone mounted Doug and walked him around to the other side of the dam.

«I’m not going in there,» the horse said. The water was several feet deep.

“Come on boy, you and I are the only ones who can do this.” He eased the horse into the water.

«Damn, it is muddy here. You’ll be cleaning my hooves off after this, mister.»

Stone agreed as he slid down into the water. It was just over his knees, and he sank several inches into a wet, muddy ooze. He got good traction under the mud, and saw Doug do the same. Doug put a shoulder into the dam, and Stone did the same with his arms a foot or so higher. They both pushed for several seconds, with nothing happening. Then there was a feeling of power surge. It was coming from the earth itself, and it seemed to be working on the dam. Stone and Doug were the focus for the force, but it was largely coming from the earth. Suddenly the dam gave a little, then a little more, and finally they heard a snapping sound above as the dam locked into place.

“It’s in. You did it,” could be heard from the cheering men above.

Stone reached up on Doug’s neck ready to mount. «Don’t try it Buster. Not with feet as muddy as yours.»

Instead they walked down river until they were out of the mud and there was a sandy bottom. Doug then lifted one foot at a time, and Stone washed the muck from his hooves with his bare hand and a lot of water. Only after he had cleaned the horse to its satisfaction, was Stone able to clean his own boots and trousers. They scrambled up the bank and Doug allowed Stone to mount for the walk back to town.

He saw her on the road outside the school and was struck again by her beauty. He had gotten so used to her in the blue dress, and now she was wearing a print material that had yellow flowers in the fabric, making an altogether different look.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “I mean, you always look beautiful, but that dress … I really like that dress.”

“Thank you,” Rayla said, amused at his stumbling. “There is a red one, and a brown one too, but without the flowers. And I will get the blue one back in a few days. No more wearing the same thing every day. And I will have to get a pack horse to carry all my clothes.”

They put Doug in his stall with Beauty, and walked back to the road. It smelled like dinner was ready. Someone had baked rolls with the flour brought in from Greenwood, and the aroma was astounding: the perfect complement to a venison stew.

“Were you swimming?” Rayla said, noticing Stone’s wet legs.

“More like wading,” he said. “Doug and I had to get wet to get the dam set. They will put a couple more levels on it, but they shouldn’t need me again.”

“Oh, I missed it,” Rayla said. “I enjoyed watching those muscles in action earlier.” They got into the food line, and refused to move up to the front when others offered to let them feed first. When they finally got their food, a bowl of stew and a warm roll, they headed to the benches. They took a seat across from the teacher, who was sitting with a pretty young woman about 40 years younger than him.

“May we join you, Nelswood?” Stone asked the teacher.

“Certainly,” he replied. “This is Miss Relants, a scribe. I am hoping she will be able to take on one of the classes at the school.”

“Oh, I wanted to talk to you about the school,” Stone said. “Is the workload too much for you?”

“I’m afraid it is,” Nelswood said. “I am not a young man, and I’ve taught for eight hours already, and will go to the night classes once I finish here. The adult class used to be only five to seven students, but yesterday about a dozen of your guards came.”

“Well, the first thing is, I wanted to let you know that you will be paid, two silver for each class you teach, weekly. There are probably quite a number of classes from the past weeks that we owe you for.”

“Will I get paid for teaching the morning class?” the young woman said. “Two silvers a week will help me a lot, neither me or my boyfriend have found suitable work yet.”

“Maybe more than two silvers a week,” Stone said. “Is there much paper in the town?”

“Yes, about 100 sheet of good stuff, more of wrapping paper. There are also a score or two of parchment.”

“Good. I want you to consider using the half-day you are not teaching to make some books. The students need primers: you know, with a page for each letter of the alphabet. In printing, not cursive, although I guess in time we will need to teach cursive. And we need some simple tales, fables or folklore with a picture on each page. Can you draw?”

“Not well,” she said. “But my boyfriend is amazing at it.”

“Then he is hired too, for another two silver a week. If he starts working more than a half day, then we will raise that.”

“Thank you Captain,” the girl said. “People have told me that you are amazing, and now I understand.”

“Three more things,” Stone said. “First, the stone building next to your school: it is not suitable for Rayla and I. So I want to make it the school building. There is a nice lodging in it and a smaller maid’s quarters that Miss Relants can use if she wants: as an studio if she sets up house with her boyfriend eventually.”

“Another thing: expect more students. I have heard that some of your students are walking as much as five miles from their farms to attend school. I plan to start a wagon service every morning and afternoon to go out the outlying farms to bring more students in. It will go out at 7 each morning, getting in just before 8 so the students can grab a quick breakfast. At noon those students will get a quick lunch and then return on the wagon to their farms. And another group will come in, get a late lunch, and then go to class. These afternoon students will go straight home from school and eat with their parents.”

“How many will come?” Nelswood asked.

“We won’t know until we get started,” Stone said. “But I am hoping to get the wagon set up with benches that will hold about 20. Where I come from, they call it a bus. The only problem I see is that the students that come in will be of all ages. So you might have a four-year-old and her 12-year-old brother in the same class.”

“That isn’t ideal,” Nelswood said. “The little ones have shorter attention spans, and are easily distracted, as you saw with young Lillibet this afternoon.”

“Here’s an idea,” Rayla said. “Why don’t we create something called a pre-school. The women who run it needn’t be scholars, but will play games and tell stories for the little ones: say age three and four.”

“That would be wonderful.” The teacher said. “At that age they can’t learn much more than the letters of their name.

“One last thing,” Stone said. “I want to motivate the students somehow. My solution is something you can call ‘The Captain’s Award’ for lack of a better title. I will pay a penny to the top three students, and a half pence to each of the next two. And there will be a second category. This will be for the hardest working student, to help motivate the ones who are not naturally as gifted as the best students. I suspect that your top students will continually be the same, but the hardest working should change each month. Have you been going long enough to be able to pick students?”

“Yes, I think so. The best students are easy: it will be the hardest working who will be a chore to chose from. It will certainly motivate the children at a cost of eight pence a month. I really must run now. I have a class to teach.”

Before he slipped out, Stone added: “By the time you move into the new school I will make sure that there is a bench and a table for each student, chalkboards for the walls, and slates for all the students to use.”

“Bless you, Captain,” he said as he hurried away.

“And you, my dear,” Stone told the girl. “I want you to find Carlson. You know him? Good. Tell him I said you were to get possession of all the paper and parchment. Even the packing paper: you can use it to make rough sketches and layouts for the books. I know the merchants will complain, but books are more important than wrapping papers.”

A young man came along: the girl’s boyfriend. He was her age or a little older, and the looks between them showed that they were in that early, magical stage of love. Rayla just sighed as she watched them making moon eyes at each other as she told him about their new jobs. They were excitedly making plans for books as Rayla and Stone got up to leave.

As Rayla and Stone were walking away, Rayla stopped and got a glazed look on her face. “Arthur says there are two groups approaching the town that you should be aware of. One is a small party that has just left Greenwood and is heading north. There are eight soldiers and a man in a carriage.”

“A wagon, you mean?”

“No he says it is a carriage. But the group of more concern is approaching from the west. There is a group of over 1000 slaves and 120 soldiers with them. Not merely guards: Arthur says that they are clearly a military force.”

“Well, I guess we should have expected that there would be a retaliation for our stopping the slave trade. It is a very lucrative business, and I guess those participating in it are not eager to give it up. How far is this army from us?”

“Arthur says they are three days from the town, and nearly two days from the furthest farm with our people in it.”

“That is where we will have to hit them,” Stone said. “None of those we freed will ever be made slaves again. I will need to speak with Carlson tonight or tomorrow morning.”

Stone and Rayla wandered over to the fire, where most of the people had congregated, other than those who went to the school tent. Carlson stood up and everyone quieted down.

“I have been giving these little talks for the past few weeks, but today I gladly turn over the floor to our leader, the Captain.”

There was an actual applause from the group, and Stone stood. “I really don’t know what to say. Carlson would probably be better at this than me. I’m still getting my feet wet here. Literally.” He looked down at his damp trousers, and everyone laughed. “The one thing that I do want to say is that while many of you have worked so hard to build a fitting house for Rayla and I, we have decided that a more important use for the building will be as a school house. So when the building is finished, it will get that use. I want some effort put into equipping it with desks, benches, blackboards and slates for each student. Any man who has skills that can go to that will be encouraged to do so. They will each be paid two silvers a week while they work on things, so that should get some money flowing through the town.”

“Also, Rayla and I will move into the old school, so don’t start planning anything for us. We will be comfortable there until the weather turns colder, and we have much to build before then, including a barracks and a barn for all the horses we have.”

“Speaking of which, you notice that there are a lot of soldiers here: far more than a town of this size needs. But remember, this is still on the slaver’s route, and I insist that none of you will be in danger of returning to slavery. But any of you men who want to leave the army life are welcome to any of the empty homes in the Barrens, to try a life as a farmer. I see more than a few of you have made friends with local girls.”

“The Barrens: I don’t like that name. I hereby rename this area the Greenswath.” At this there was another round of applause. When it died down, Stone continued: “I’m going to sit down. I see a lot of tiny faces starting to fidget. What comes now?” he asked Carlson.

“I come now, Captain,” an ancient looking man rose unsteadily to his feet. But his voice was not unsteady. “I am Granger, and for the past few weeks I have been telling stories about the old days and far ways. Most seem to like them: they keep coming back and calling for more. What shall we talk about today?”

“The three towers,” a young tween boy near the front called out. Stone noticed that most of the children in the crowd were nestled between the legs of one parent or another. Then he felt Rayla move into a similar position between his legs. He smiled. This was nice. A storyteller was to these people what television was to families on earth: at least in the early days when there was only one in a house and the whole family gathered in front of it.

“The three towers of power are located far to the south, past the deserts, across the ocean, and nestled in the mountains of ever-snow. They are in a valley that is covered by snow almost half the year, unlike the six or eight weeks of winter we get here,” the ancient said.

“In each of the towers lives a mighty mage, with the powers to create life itself. Of their creations, the only one known in this area are the Dolly’s they create for rich men who pay the weight of the dolly in gold.” At this Stone felt Rayla react: he tensed up himself, and began paying more attention to the story.

“The mages also create fantastic creatures to be their servants: there is a half-man/half-horse who plows their fields, a half-man/half-wolf that patrol their forests, a half-woman/half-fish that swim in their rivers, and women with wings instead of arms that fly around their towers to warn of intruders. There are some who say that the unicorn is of their creation, but I doubt that. Those creatures are so pure that only a virgin can ride them. They have a spiral horn of the purest mithril in the middle of their forehead. Mithril is worth 10 times as much as gold, and is coveted by the mages in making their other creations.”

The tale continued for nearly an hour, following the actions of heroes who tried to break into the towers. By that time tiny eyes were fighting to stay open, so the old man finished up the story so that parents could take the little ones to bed, and the group around the fire broke up.

When I started this story, I warned there would be minimal TG in it. In this chapter you get it: Dawn.

Stone

12. The Secret

Stone and Rayla spoke to the old man as soon as he had finished his story. They started by telling him the town would pay him two silver a week to tell the stories, and gave him several coins to cover the prior weeks. It was a small investment for keeping the people happy. He was grateful: at his age there was little chance of earning a living conventionally. He had been sleeping in a rough lean-to he had built, and only eating at the communal suppers.

They grilled him on his knowledge of the three towers of power. He was certain of some parts of the story: that the land was far to the south and across deserts and the ocean. He was uncertain of other parts though. He said that the creatures the mages created could not reproduce, and most didn’t even have sexual organs. They lived for 100 years without aging, and then were recycled into new creatures of the same type. The one exception was the dollies. They were designed for sexual pleasure, so had the proper parts, but they could not reproduce. They also did not have a navel.

That answered one question Stone and Rayla had: they had noticed the lack of a navel on her otherwise perfect body weeks before. It also explained why she never had menstrual periods like most women her age. Finally, when he had told him all he knew, and he slipped away towards his little hut.

Rayla and Stone walked back to their small tent. As they approached the shelter, Stone noticed that they were holding hands. It felt nice. Soon they were cuddled into the bedrolls. They slept together, but did nothing more.

“Do you think we will have to go to the towers?” Rayla asked as she nuzzled into his muscular back.

“I think we must, if we want to find out why we are here. But not until the town is secure, perhaps in a year,” Stone replied. “I suspect the wizards had something to do with our arrival here. It seems that they have the power that could have brought us. I would like to know if there is some sort of mission that we need to follow. I have been thinking about the four of us. I came from Saskatchewan in 2018. When did you come from Cleveland?”

“It was 1954 back then,” the girl said softly. “And Arthur said he came from Birmingham England, although he was in the trenches in France in 1916 when he came over.”

“And Doug was from San Diego, in 1965,” Stone said. “Four of us came over: three men and one woman.” At that Rayla tensed up. She finally decided to come clean about her past. She was falling in love with this man, and wanted to have no secrets from him.

Stone felt her tense up. “Is that not right?” he said. “You were a woman back on earth, weren’t you?”

He waited for her to say ‘of course’ but was met with silence.

“You were a man back there?” he finally said in realization.

“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “Although not much of a man. I was a 32-year-old black man named Ray. I was born with a cleft palate, and my parents didn’t have money to have the operation to cure it. As a result I grew up shunned by those my own age due to my hideous face. I was teased and bullied, and when I was 10 a group of about eight boys attacked me, breaking ribs and other bones. Again, no hospital for me, and for the next eight months my mother nursed me. But I never really recovered. My spine was bent, and I could only walk with a bend to the side, and a hump in my back made me look like Quasimodo. I never went back to school, and no one cared. Teachers didn’t like having to look at my deformed face in school, and back then one less black boy in school was not a concern to anyone.”

“I retreated into the life of my home. There was a lady next door who raised flowers, but was going blind, and I became her eyes. She couldn’t see my ugly face, so I started raising roses, which my mother took to the florist down the street. He only paid us half what they were worth, but it was enough to help Mom with the bills, especially after my alcoholic father died. But more importantly, it helped my self-esteem: I was earning money to keep alive and the flowers didn’t judge me. Between the flowers and the money Mom earned doing washing for white folk, we were doing well: for blacks.”

Stone just gasped at the girl’s tale of woe. She continued.

“So coming here was a mixed blessing. I am attractive, so much so that people stared at me as much as they had when I had the messed up face. But it was better here. And once you let me wear a normal dress the stares were less of an ogle. But I was female, and quickly found myself being used as such. Then I met you, and you refused to rape me. Since then I am growing more into a woman, and less remains of that ugly little twisted black man.”

Stone felt her arms curl around his body, and touch his penis. It immediately started to harden, and she continued to massage it, and his testicles. “I was afraid of that at first,” she said as the man started panting with desire. “But it is a wonderful thing that I can do this to you.”

For several minutes she continued, and eventually Stone exploded, shooting his juices far out into the campsite. “Oh my, did I do that?” she whispered coquettishly.

“My God, that was wonderful,” Stone said.

“I can do that as often as you like,” Rayla said. “I’m still leery of you putting that thing inside of me. You’ll probably tear me apart. But if that feels good, we can do it again.”

“Not tonight,” Stone gasped. “Maybe in the morning.” Then he fell asleep.

The next morning Rayla repeated her feat, much to Stone’s surprise and pleasure. For a girl who had been so shy before, she really seemed to enjoy giving Stone pleasure. After they had cleaned up, they went for breakfast, paying a silver each to join the children. Stone also told the women working the meal that he was making them town employees, and would pay them two silvers a week to do the job.

Carlson walked by, not eating, and Stone waved him over. He had not planned on breakfast, but almost magically a full plate appeared in front of him, and he ate as Stone explained the groups that were approaching the town. “We will deal with the small group first,” he said. “But tomorrow I want all the soldiers ready to ride out to the west. Speak to Sgt. Pothman and work out a plan. I don’t think we will need the militia, so put out the word that this will be an optional exercise that they can join if they need, or skip if they have more important work here in town.”

It was nearly noon when a young boy ran up to Stone. “Men on the ridge to the south. Many on horses, and a fancy looking wagon,” the boy said.

Stone was on Doug at the time, so he merely had to look to the south. As Arthur had warned there were eight soldiers. It was too far away to recognize any faces, but he knew that there were three who had fought with him against Kona. A man with stirrups has a different posture than one without.

He turned to call the sergeant, and saw him riding forward with seven soldiers.

“Eight for eight, Captain, or should we send more?” Pothman said.

“No eight is fine. I think I know three of those men, and I suspect that you know them all. I don’t know who is in the fancy buggy though.

“That is a carriage of the Duke of Sarn,” Pothman explained. “I think we can assume that our visitor is from Sarn, and those with him are merely his guard.”

The men of Greenstone had ridden up to within comfortable speaking distance of the newcomers. Up close it was clear that the man in the carriage was terrified. It was a member of his guard who spoke.

“This is the Vicomte Vickers, a representative of the Duke of Sarn. We come on a peaceful mission.” With that Stone sheathed Pate, to her dismay. “Don’t worry, tomorrow or the next day we will feed your blood lust,” Stone said softly. He heard the men behind him also sheathe their swords, and a few seconds later the newcomers also put away their weapons. The tense atmosphere eased considerably, and now the man in the carriage spoke.

“The Duke of Sarn sends his best wishes and would like to make a formal treaty with your duchy,” the man said in a frail voice. “We discovered that tax collectors sent to Greenford and Greenwood have either not returned, or came back empty-handed. When we passed through those towns, they told us that they were under the protection of a community called Newtown. Is that the community I see before me?”

“It is, although the people have chosen the name of Greenstone for it. We also claim all the lands previously known as The Barrens, which are now called the Greenswath,” Stone said. “We will gladly form a treaty with Sarn, on one condition. The Duke must ban slavery from all his lands: Sarn and the other towns he controls. If he accepts those terms, we will have peace. If not our army will go to Sarn and free the slaves and depose the Duke during the winter season.”

“That is a major demand,” the shocked envoy said. “The economy of Sarn depends on the slaves. Is there any other way?”

“That is a fallacy. We banned slavery in Greenwood and Greenford and both towns have prospered since. And you can see that Greenstone is developing at a rapid pace, with no slaves. We might negotiate on land: we currently claim all of the Greenswath, and both sides of the Green River, down to 12 miles past Greenford. The two villages are not negotiable.”

“The loss of those two towns is grievously felt by the Duke,” Vickers said. “His tax base is not as large as he would like it to be. We should like to negotiate terms of the peace.”

“The terms are set,” Stone said. “No slavery for all of Sarn, and no farms between Sarn and Greenland shall return to the Duchy without the consent of the owners.”

“Consent of the owners?” the Vicompte said in surprise. “Why on earth would their wishes matter? We are their masters. What we say, happens.”

“The world is changing, sire,” Stone said. “The rights of the people are starting to be noticed, including slaves.”

“That is beyond my ken,” the other man said. “I can make agreement with you on boundaries, but the Duke will have to decide if he wishes to give up his slaves. I will send a horseman back to Sarn immediately to get an answer.”

“That round trip will take more than a week,” Stone said. “I offer you the hospitality of the town until he returns. I assume part of your visit here was to spy on our progress.”

“Spy? Oh my no,” the vicomte said. “True, the Duke will want a report on what is happening in his former territories, but I would not call it spying.”

“Our troops are heading west tomorrow on exercises,” Stone said. “We would welcome your men joining them. And you will be able to get a first hand look at how the Greenlands fight war. You are welcome to attend as well.”

“No, I thank you for your offer, but I would prefer to stay in the town. My backside is more than a little sore from the ride up here, and I would recover for the ride back. Is there a good hotel in your little town? My men can join you though: they seem eager.”

“Not even a bad hotel yet, but we will find you a room somewhere.” Stone said. “And I fought with three of your men in the battles against Kona, and my sergeant here knows the other men. They will be welcome to come, and I think I can promise you that they will all return intact.”

The Vicomte was lodged in one of the early log cabins that had been built, and granted a bed and breakfast at the ridiculous rate of one silver a night. It made the woman who owned the building think of going into the hoteling business.

Stone stopped to check that preparations for tomorrow’s march were well underway, but Sgt Porthman had everything in order. So the big man headed to the healer’s tent. “What do you need to do there?” Rayla asked as she accompanied him.

“Your story last night … what you went through as a child,” Stone avoided called her a boy. Just saying it seemed wrong: she was so female now. “I want our community to follow the Canadian model for health care. Good health care is a human right, not a commodity. We need to see what is being done now, and set things right.

There had been several women among the former slaves who had assisted healers, and one who had been a healer for a rich family, that had come to hard times and had to sell specialist slaves like the healer. She was the one who took charge of the healing tents, which currently housed several people: a miner injured by a rock fall, and a woodsman cut by an axe bouncing awkwardly off a tree. There were continual emergency calls, with people coming in with minor ailments that didn’t require bed care.

“Who is in charge here,” Stone said from the entrance to the tent.

“That would be me, Captain. You may call me sister Dayna,” the healer said.

“Sister, I have decided to turn my attention to health care,” Stone said. “I want to know how people are paying for their treatments.”

“Payment?” the sister said. “We ask no payments. Our nurses get the evening meals, so we have no real need for monetary payments. The odd thing comes to us in barter, and our tents have been given freely. The men also plan to build us a wooden building on this site later, before winter.”

“Good,” Stone said. “I want to make it clear that the healing community will be a free service to all. How many assistants do you have?”

“Five, although there is a shortage. You see, we need to provide care at all hours.”

“Well then, your nurses, as I think of them, will be paid four silvers a week,” Stone said. “And as the main healer your own pay will be seven silvers a week. No doubt when word gets out that the job is paid, others will look for positions. Would 10 in total be enough?”

“Twelve would be better,” the woman said.

“You may hire those you feel will be competent,” he said. “Up to 12. I am going to have to get someone to be paymaster for all the positions we are creating. I’ll let you know how to collect your money. There will be five weeks of retroactive pay … that means pay for the past weeks … as well.”

“Bless you Captain,” the healer said. “And if we need supplies?”

“Anything needed can be purchased and you will be reimbursed.”

The healer had a big smile on her face as Rayla and Stone walked out of the tent.

Another bloody chapter, as they say in Britain: Dawn.

Stone

13. Off to Battle

The next morning the armed forces started out at sunup. The biggest problem was that they needed to go west, which meant crossing the river. Going down to Greenford was out of the question. Some of the men said it would be possible to ford the river a few miles south of town, since it was quite narrow and shallow there, especially if the dam was not opened at the usual time.

Thus the men forded a mile south of town, and even Doug made no complaints about wet hooves as they crossed the sandy riverbed with only two feet of clear water on it. There were two wagons for supplies, since there were nearly 100 men: soldiers and militia. They also made it through the shallow water.

Once across the river, they headed west, and spent most of the day riding to reach the westernmost farm before the slavers. People at the other farms waved and cheered them on, although they tended to get sober-faced when they found out the purpose of the trip. Stone had to convince several families not to flee to the town for safety. As he put it, if this army could not defeat the slavers, then nowhere was safe. He promised to return the next day, or the day after, and let them know they were secure.

At the last farm the landowner was extremely worked up when he learned that slavers were on the way. “We will stop them here,” Stone said. “We noticed a wisp of smoke coming from your chimney as we approached. Tomorrow, at about noon, we want you to have an even bigger fire. Add in some green wood to make it smoke more. We will lure some of them here.”

“What? You want us to lure them here?” the farmer said. “That is madness.”

“No, I expect that they will send four to eight men to ‘harvest’ slaves. We will be ready for them. Have your son on watch, and when he sees them, he can run and alert the family. You can all run to the barn. We will have men in there to protect you. I can assure you no one will be hurt,” Stone said.

“I suppose. You are the Captain, you know best,” the man finally relented.

“We will only have four in the barn: myself and three of my best men,” Stone said. “The rest will set up a camp over that ridge. Is it in crop?”

“Just hay,” the farmer said.

“We will compensate you for ruining the crop,” Stone said. “In fact, we will have the men swath it down and pile it to the side before they set up their tents, so you won’t lose any hay for your animals.”

“Thank you Captain,” the farmer said. “Do you really think we will be safe?”

“I assure you that you will be,” Stone said. “However things might get a bit messy in the barn when the slavers enter the barn: blood and gore. You may not want your wife and children to see it.”

“We will have them hide in the back,” the farmer said. “After it is over, they will go out to the house through the back door. Do you really think there will only be eight?”

“In that group. After we settle things with them, there will be a bigger battle with the rest. We just want to thin the herd a little first.”

Doug was happy. He was in a warm barn with two other horses, both mares, but neither in heat. There were also the three mares from the other soldiers in the barn, and he had already serviced two of them in the past. Soldiers preferred mares, and Doug had made many of them happy already from the large number that were kept in the town. He was the only stallion in the herd.

Stone wasn’t in the barn much, other than to scope out the building, and make plans for the visitors tomorrow. Then he headed out to the field, where he insisted that the men reap the hay before trampling it down with their horses and tents. Some of the new hay went for fodder for the over 100 horses, which were taken to a small stream to drink. Stone handed the farmer 10 silver for the hay and the use of the field, far more than the man expected. Although a year’s wages in town might be 100 silver or more, in the country, where they raised their own food, 10 silver could be a half-year’s earnings.

The army slept well, with sentries rotating on 2-hour shifts, even though Stone didn’t expect any problems. The watch was more a means of maintaining discipline in a battle situation. Arthur was in the air, and Rayla would alert Stone if there were any problems. No standing watch would be anywhere nearly as effective as his eyes in the skies.

The farmer and his wife fed Stone and Rayla in their house, and even offered them their bed. But Stone insisted that they would sleep in the barn in the hayloft. There were no sexual games that night or the following morning though: Stone said it was too important a mission to be playing.

In the morning Rayla said that Arthur had seen the slave train get into operation for the morning, and estimated it would pass the farm in just over an hour. Stone woke the family, and told the wife that she had a half hour to make her family breakfast before she sent her 15-year-old son out to keep watch. The big smoky fire was lit to attract the attention of the slavers. It was a great adventure for the boy, who bolted down his breakfast and ran out to the point where Stone wanted him to watch from. It was far enough that he would be seen running back to the house once the slavers were in sight, but close enough that the men on horses would not be able to run him down before he got to the barn. Stone’s goal was for the slavers to see the boy and his family run to the barn, so they would not enter the house. The family didn’t have much in the line of furnishings, but Stone didn’t want any of it destroyed.

“They’re coming, they’re coming,” the excited boy said nearly an hour later. It was not what he had been told to say. “Men coming,” was the phrase, and if the slavers were smarter or more alert they would have realized they were expected. But watching the boy and his family running to the barn was all the slavers needed to see. They rode on, pulling up their horses at the barn door and dismounting. There were only five, the boy had reported to Stone as he ran to his hiding spot in the loft, where he could see the action. Stone had been hoping for eight, to lessen the work in the afternoon.

“I seen women in here,” shouted the lead man as he entered the barn. “War is she?” He was already unbuckling his pants as he walked in.

“She is safe,” Stone said, “Let me help you with that.” And Pate swept down and sliced the belt in two. Of course, doing so also sliced the man in two. The other four men had their swords out, but they expected to be dealing with a farmer, not these military men arrayed behind Stone.

The other three men didn’t get a blow in. Pate stroked left and right, killing a man with each blow. The last two didn’t live long either, as she sliced each of them into pieces.

“Damn,” Stone said to his sword. “One of them might have been spared for interrogation.”

“No need,” Rayla said as she slipped the arrow she was holding back into her quiver. “Arthur has told us all we need to know. The train is still moving: at a slave-train pace. If we arrange the men and head north by east we will catch them in less than an hour.”

It only took a few minutes to get the soldiers in the army mounted, and they poured out from behind the barn, with Stone at their head, riding Doug. As soon as the men with the remaining slavers saw them, they formed into a military formation. It was clear that these men were regular troops, and not merely slave train guards, like the ones who had been sent to the barn and currently lay there, in pieces.

While the men of the slave train formed into position, the train behind formed into a circle. There were at least 100 wagons, so there was a lot of room in the middle for all the slaves, and for the horses of their army, which had dismounted to fight on foot as normal.

All of Stone’s men were trained and equipped for fighting on horseback. As usual he rode at the front of his men. Suddenly six soldiers popped out from a nearby ditch and ran at Doug. Stone didn’t even have his sword out, and had not fallen into his fighting mode. As the men ran towards him with swords flashing, Stone realized that he was in trouble as he reached for Pate.

Suddenly the attackers pitched forward, only a yard or so short of Stone’s horse. He could see an arrow piercing each of the men, exactly at the base of the neck. He looked over, and saw Rayla with another arrow in her bow, scanning the area to see if there were others preparing to attack. Stone smiled at the pretty redhead who had just saved his life. She looked up in the sky, and he followed her sight to see Arthur up there. Stone tipped an imaginary hat, and the eagle dipped a wing. It was clear that the bird had seen the soldiers waiting in the ditch, and alerted Rayla, who had fired her arrows as they rose to attack Stone. She must have had all six arrows in the air at the same time: the men had fallen dead within a second of each other.

This changes things a bit, Stone thought. Clearly this army knew that he was the key, and would target him. No problem, he thought as he charged into the mob. He was in full battle mode, seeing only the wireframe opponents that Pate slashed. He saw a flight of arrows come in, centered around him, but his sword slashed through all of them, cutting them in half so they fell harmlessly.

Arrows are Rayla’s responsibility, so Stone ignored them, only swatting away one or two while slicing his sword through enemy bodies. She must have been successful, for after the first dangerous flurry of 20 arrows only a few more appeared.

Stone was being successful on his own terms: he had gone entirely through the enemy square, and saw a fat man sitting on a wagon, and a man who was fit, although older next to him. The older man was clearly the captain of the army, as he pulled his sword out as Doug bore down on them. Stone assumed the fat man was the slaver.

Pate sliced through the captain’s sword like butter, and then continued with a slash through the slaver, whose intestines slid to the ground. The return flick of the sword did the same to the captain.

“Enough,” Stone called out. “Lay down your swords or die.”

With their master, captain and more than half their comrades already dead, the remaining soldiers dropped their swords, and Stone’s army held back. The men had done well: Stone had killed nearly 60, and the other soldiers had killed another 35 or so. Rayla had eliminated 20 archers. None of his men were hurt, although four or five horses were wounded: two badly enough that they had to be put down at the end of the battle.

The slaves merely looked on in amazement as they tried to understand what had happened. They only realized what was going on when several of Stone’s men started removing their chains, and the big man addressed them: “You are all now freed men. We will rest here, and prepare a lunch with as much as you can eat. Those who have sores from the chains should go over to that wagon, where the red haired lady who helped free you will set up a bandaging station. Any women with healing experience should join her to help. And those with cooking experience can get any goods needed from the slave wagons, and start preparing a meal. I have a flint if there is no other way to start a fire. We hope to leave for Greenstone tomorrow.

Stone then explained about Greenswath, and that they would be able to live there as free people, if they wish, or to go wherever else they wished. This time only five of the thousand freed people wanted to remain in slavery, and Stone told them that they would find sympathetic masters in Greenstone amongst former slaves.

Carlson, who had commanded the east wing of Stone’s army came forward. “Captain, there are several wagon drivers who claim to be masters and owners of some of the wagons.”

“Have them bring forward a spokesman,” Stone said.

“I can do that,” a man of about 40 said. “I am Carter, and twelve of these wagons are mine. When we heard that a train was heading out with an army for protection, the five of us joined in. There are about 40 wagons in total that belong to us, and the other 63 belonged to Morduff, who lies there.” He pointed to the fat man Stone had slain.

“Do any of you trade in slaves?” Stone asked.

“Trade … no. Although most of us have slaves as wagon drivers and helpers.”

“Those men are freemen now,” Stone said. “If you want to continue to have them work for you, you will have to negotiate a salary with them. And don’t think that you can just pretend they are free and reimpose slavery on them when you leave. You will make a vow that they will be free forever. At the point of my sword. And it is a magic sword that will know if you are being false, and will slice through your neck like she has sliced through so many of the soldiers you thought were protecting you.”

“Your goods are yours, if you pass the vow, and you can continue to accompany us to Greenstone, where many of your goods may find a ready market, for the town is short of … almost everything. You may also find some goods to buy, although the town is not producing much yet. We will treat you fairly, and hopefully you will return. Only slavers are treated in the manner you saw today. Is Sarn your final destination?”

“It is sire.”

“No sire stuff, call me Captain, or Stone. I need to head down to Sarn myself soon. If you don’t mind waiting for a few days, my army will accompany you.”

“We can wait a few days, or even a week,” Carter said. “Our stock does not require feeding, like the slaves do.”

“They are not slaves any longer,” Stone said. “There is a need for laborers in Greenstone, and they will quickly find work there. Tell me, how do I tell which wagon belongs to which trader? And you said 60 belonged to the slaver, which I will claim for Greenstone.”

“See on the tail of each wagon,” the man said. “There is an emblem burned into the wood. We each have a different symbol, burned in by a hot iron.”

A brand, Stone thought. Clever.

Then Sgt Pothman appeared. “What about the prisoners,” he asked.

“Ah yes, the prisoners,” Stone looked over and saw the remaining 20 or so men, with a guard of eight of his soldiers surrounding them. He rode Doug over there.

“You are prisoners of war,” Stone said. “I already have more than enough soldiers for such a small country, so I am releasing you to return to wherever you came from. It is a parole though: you need to swear to never attack our lands again. And I expect that having seen what our army can do none of you will ever want to. I will keep your swords, and your horses. You can walk out of here with a full belly after lunch, never to return.”

“But sire,” one soldier dropped to his knees. “It is 21 leagues to the nearest town that way. Without horses we will not make it.”

“Some of you may,” Stone said. “It will take four days on foot, I suspect, if you keep moving at a good pace. You can fill your canteens before you go. Is there water along the way?” The man nodded yes. Stone turned to the sergeant. “We packed dried venison for field rations?”

“Yes captain, but it appears there are better rations on the wagons those women are rooting through.”

“Good. Issue each of these men four strips of venison before they leave. It is not enough to keep a man alive for long, but if they only take one strip per day it will keep them alive until they reach the town they are aiming for. They should have no trouble finding it: there is a trail made by 1000 tired feet.”

He turned to Carlson. “Take a small company of men, and head back to Greenstone, and start preparations for a very large influx of citizens. Announce our victory to the farms along the way: they will be anxious until they know. We will be coming back slowly, starting tomorrow morning but only travelling at foot speed. It will take at least two days for us to return. I will send out a pair of scouts on the second morning to give you an idea of when we will get there.”

Carlson saluted, and then turned back to the men to choose his riders. “Pothman?”

“Captain?”

“I want you to organize this camp. The wagoneers will be joining us. These few will eat lunch with us, and then leave. And there are a hundred or so horses around that need to be corralled. Help the wagoneers unhitch their horses as well. They should graze for the rest of the day and into the night.”

Well, technically this chapter is only two days after the last one, but barely. It may be three or four days to the next chapter: Dawn.

Stone

14. Return

The train spent the night in the west, and several of the soldiers went to explore other burnt out farms in the area, thinking to take Stone up on his offer to have soldiers take other positions in the community. The family at the local farm was elated to think that they might get close neighbors with military experience. The former slaves and the wagon drivers got two good meals that day, eating their fill at lunch and again at supper. The prisoners were sent on their way after the lunch, and Rayla pronounced the injured people ready to go, if they could ride the wagons. There were no pregnant women this time around. And with 100 wagons there was lots of space with three people to a wagon. The other 700 or so could walk or ride on the 120 horses captured.

The next morning a breakfast was served, and then the sergeant formed the wagons up, and the former slaves along the way who had farming experience scouted out the burned out farms, with about two dozen opting to move into one of the farms. Stone allowed them to take start-up supplies and tools from the slaver’s wagons, and gave them two silvers to buy supplies that were in the traders’ wagons.

As the wagon proceeded towards Greenstone, Stone noticed a former slave moving from wagon to wagon in the slaver’s part of the train, taking notes. He rode Doug up to the wagon he was in.

“You are a scribe then,” Stone said as the man jotted on his paper.

“No Captain,” the man said. “I am Euler and my profession was as a tax expert in Trawnawa, the capital city. I worked for a half dozen wealthy clients, and was well known for finding old laws and edicts that allowed my clients to significantly reduce their taxes. I can’t be sure, but I think that rather than amend the tax laws, the palace tax collectors decided to have me kidnapped as a slave.”

“What are you writing in your pad?” Stone asked.

“Well, I suspect at some point someone is going to want an inventory of what is in these wagons. I am doing this. It makes the trip less boring and perhaps it will be useful.”

“It certainly will,” Stone said. “Please continue, and if you need help, let me know. It will be an asset that we can use. Tomorrow we will send scouts to the town, and if you can have your list done by then, the people will know what is coming, and make their claims with Carlson. And consider yourself an employee of the town: I need someone as a paymaster, and to help in the administrative duties. Your pay will be five silvers a week, a bit more than average in the town.”

The man smiled. He had been a free man for less than a day, and now he had employment that he felt he would enjoy.

As the company headed back east, Euler managed to find the slaver’s coin stash. There was enough gold in the satchel to keep the town going without taxation for nearly a year.

Carter, spokesman for the traders, waved Stone over as he was riding with Rayla though the wagons. “The others decided last night that we would prefer not to go into your town,” he said. We would like to trade with your people, but fording the river there, and then having to ford back at Greenford is pointless, when there is a perfectly good road going down the west bank.”

“We can work that out,” Stone said. “If you set up camp on the west side of the river, near the ford, I’m sure most of the town will come to you and see if you have any goods that they need. Few of them have any cash, but if their needs are important to the town, I will fund them. We will even set up the slaver’s wagons there to keep everything in one place.”

“Good, although I don’t see why you can’t move those wagons across the river. That is where the goods will wind up,” Carter said. “But a few of these wagons have heavy loads, and I would rather not risk getting stuck in a ford.”

(Said the Chevy owner, Stone laughed to himself.) “But why do you have these odd wagons,” he asked the man. The wagon Carter was driving, and the one immediately behind were odd, with six horses pulling instead of the normal two, or occasionally four. The wheels were odd as well, with treads six inches wide instead of the normal two.

“These wagons were built specifically for this load, which is very heavy. The wider wheels keep the wagon from sinking into ruts as easily, and six horses are needed to pull the load, which is heavy stone.”

“I see,” Stone said. “If either wagon gets stuck, then let me or the sergeant know, and we will have the men dismount and help push you out.”

With that the pair rode away for the wagon to work their way through the rest of the train. Rayla was especially interested in checking up on the injured people who were riding on wagons to let their bandaged ankles heal.

“Why would he be carting stone across this world,” Rayla said. “Isn’t there stone enough around here?”

“Special stone, maybe,” Stone said. “Perhaps it is gold? That is very heavy. I should have asked. Oh well, we will see when we get to the ford, if he opens his wagons up for inspection.”

As they approached the ford it looked like the whole town was there to greet the group. It wasn’t, but more people were still crossing the ford, so soon it might be. Sgt. Pothman detached a group of soldiers to go and keep guard over the near empty town.

The wagons formed into two circles, and Stone explained that one circle was from the slaver, and goods from it could be claimed for free. The other circle was the traders, and goods there would have to be purchased. Stone noted that the slave train had some gold, and if goods were really necessary to the town, he would chip in to buy them.

“It looks like Black Friday back home,” he told Rayla as he watched people swarming the wagons.

“Black what?”

Stone then remembered that Rayla had come from the 1950s, before the consumer madness manifested. “I’ll explain later,” he said.

Soon Stone was approached by the man building the town grist mill. “He has stones, and he won’t sell them,” the man claimed. He was pointing at Carter’s big wagons.

Stone and Rayla rode over. “I can’t sell them,” Carter apologized. “They are a special commission for the grist mill in Sarn, and they are already paid for. The man even paid my fee ahead, and to have these wagons built. He paid 70 gold in total.”

“70 gold?” the miller said in shock. “I never dreamed mill stones would cost so much. Can the town afford it, Captain?”

“We could, but we cannot just take these,” Stone said. “They belong to another. Perhaps we can arrange to have some more made, perhaps smaller in size, and brought here in another trip.”

The miller turned to the man. “You were attacked along the way, and you lost the wheels,” he said with a wink. “You will get all 70 gold, and I will get the wheels.”

“No,” Stone said sharply. “We will not do business in that way.”

“Thank you Captain,” Carter said. “I will ask the miller in Sarn what he will do with his old wheels. I suspect the base wheel split, and has been patched together. He might want to sell them. You won’t be able to grind as quickly with a split wheel, but it might get you started.”

The miller looked positive. “Can we do that Captain? I’d like to have a wheel before harvest time.”

“Could you get the used wheel for 25 gold?” he asked Carter.

“I suspect he would sell for 20 gold,” the man said. “Less than that and he would keep the old wheel for backup. “But it will cost you 5 gold to get it carted up here. I would have to buy these wagons … he owns them, of course. Plus my fee to get them here. I would own the wagons and the teams at the end though.”

“That sounds fair,” Stone said. “Do what you can, and report back to us on the return trip. Now excuse me, but I think I am needed yonder.”

There was shrill shrieking coming from a wagon in the slaver’s train. Eight women were circling a wagon, yelling and screaming, with a single soldier trying to keep fights from breaking out.

“I saw it first, it’s mine,” one larger woman said.

“It was on the manifest that came to town last night,” another yelled back. “One wooden spinning wheel, it said.”

“But I saw it first.”

“Calm down ladies, let me see what the commotion is all about. This wheel is what you all seek?”

“Yes,” the soldier said, relieved to have backup. “Apparently all of these women have been working weeks combing and carding wool sheared from the sheep in the town. Now they need a wheel to make yarn. A local craftsman has been trying to build a wheel, but without a pattern, his results are less than satisfactory. His latest model will spin, but at a much slower rate than a real wheel.”

“I see,” Stone said. “So whoever gets the wheel will have an advantage in spinning. I think the solution is clear. We will divide the day into six four-hour sections. That means 42 over a week. There are eight of you … you will each get a four-hour turn five times a week. It might be night, so you will have to arrange your work around that time.”

“So who will own the wheel?”

“I think I will award it to the craftsman. He will keep it, and provide you with a room that is well lit to spin in. You will have to bring your wool and cart your thread home. There happens to be two four-hour slots left over, and the craftsman can use that to study the wheel with the idea of making a copy. When he has a working copy, then you will be able to move to eight-hour shifts, if there is still the need. And eventually you will be able to have him make you all personal wheels.”

The women quieted down and worked this plan through their heads. It was not ideal for any of them, but it was fair. No one woman would control the wheel and be able to use it against others. Eventually they agreed.

There were other disputes to be settled, but none as loud and raucous as the spinners. More than half the goods on the slaver’s train were dispersed that day, and there was good business for the traders as well. Many people still had coin left from the allocation Stone had made from the original slave train, and all the new adult people from this train were awarded two silvers, many of which soon came to the traders for various goods.

As well, Stone paid for all the tools on the traders’ wagons: saws, hoes, scythes, and even ploughs. The three ploughs were to be town property, with farmers booking time to borrow them. In the spring they would be hard to get, so some farmers started booking fall ploughing sessions. The other tools would be given to people trying to re-establish farms in the area.

As he was dealing with Carter, the man noted the soldiers carrying the purchased items across the ford. “You know, Captain,” he said. “You should consider building a bridge along here. It will make it easier for traders to visit the town from this side, and you might get the odd trader from the east, who would visit your town and then cross over to the road on the west side of the river, direct to Sarn. It would really make your town grow.

Stone looked over the site, and realized the trader was right. It shouldn’t be too hard to build a bridge. Four upright pillars in the river, at the edges, and then two more long pine beams across them. Then it would just be a matter of planking between the pine beams, and some access road work. Of course, moving the pine beams would again require Stone’s strength, as it had with the dam. This would delay his trip to the south.

“That is a good idea,” Stone said. “But it means I will not be able to travel south with you this week. I will be needed here. But don’t worry. I will send 24 soldiers with you, at least as far as Greenford. The road from there to Sarn should be safe enough unescorted.”

“Good. We welcome the protection,” Carter said. “And we will be taking goods from your town. I am carrying several bags of coke, and more of coal. Another is carrying slate shingles, and some rock samples to be assayed for gold content. We’ll leave tomorrow, if your men can be ready.”

“They will be,” Stone said. “I’ll get the sergeant on it.”

“What types of goods are needed in the town?” Carter asked. “We will have empty wagons coming back.”

“Food: flour, potatoes, other stew vegetables. And wood. We always need wood: cut lumber for planking. Our woodsmen can split timbers, but the planks are always thick, at least an inch and a half. Boards of a half-inch thickness would be a boon until we get our mill running.”

“We will try to meet your needs,” Carter said.

That evening, Rayla and Stone went through the supper line together. The people were still a little awed that their leaders waiting in line like everyone else. Stone did note that he got bigger portions than everyone else, but rationalized that he was a bigger person.

They took their meal, a beef stew for a change, to the tables. Apparently the hunters had found some cattle that had gone feral when their owners were enslaved, and shot two. The change of diet from venison and small game was welcomed by all.

Rayla pointed out Miss Relants, the scribe/teacher, and her boyfriend, apparently trying to occupy the same physical space as they fed each other. The loveblindness abated after a few moments, and they noticed that the Captain was sitting near them. Carlson had sat near them so he could make a report on the day’s activities to Stone.

“Captain,” the girl said. “Hamm and I would like to get married. Has someone been appointed to that task?”

Stone looked at Carlson who spoke. “Any one who is literate and has some degree of importance in the community can do it. The ceremony is fairly short: a declaration of class, then vows between the parties.”

“What is the declaration of class?”

“You know, slave or free. Marriage between the classes is prohibited, although of course there are many cases where a slave and master might have children. They just cannot marry,” Carlson explained.

“That clause is no longer required,” Stone decreed. “All are free here. So who here could perform the ceremony?”

“The schoolmaster is one,” the chief guard said. “If I was a little more advanced in my lessons in the evenings, I suppose I could. The healer is literate, I understand. And there is you and your lady.”

Miss Relants got wide eyed. “Oh Captain, could you do it? It would mean so much to Hamm and I to be married by the man who set us free.”

“When would you like to do it?” Stone said. “I have other duties to look after, and want to head south in a few weeks.”

“Sunday is the traditional day,” Carlson said.

“Noon on Sunday, then?” Stone asked, and the girl nodded. “I will make a space in my schedule. What do I need, an hour?”

“Only 15 minutes, really,” Carlson. “As I said, it is a short ceremony.”

But in the end it was not a short ceremony. Word of the wedding flew through the town, and during story time other couples came up to Stone asking to be married that day. Eventually Euler had to be drafted to make a schedule. Soon there were 50 couples, which would make it over 12 hours of ceremonies at quarter hour intervals.

Eventually Euler suggested that Rayla might perform some ceremonies, and when word of that went through the town, there was another rush of women wanting to be married by the lady, who was greatly admired in the town. The final tally was 46 couples to be married by Stone, and another 18 by Rayla.

Stone announced that he would not leave for the south until after the following Sunday, even if the bridge was completed before then. This allowed other couples to plan weddings that following weekend.

Sorry for it taking so long to get another chapter done. Look for one midweek: Dawn.

Stone

15. Family

Stone was watching the men put pylons in for the new bridge when three riders approached. Two were soldiers: the other was the man the Vicomte had sent back to Sarn in negotiations on a peace treaty, and he looked irate.

“This is the one come from Sarn,” one of the soldiers said. “We thought you might want to speak to him afore the big muckety-muck saw him.”

“I must protest,” the man said. “I am on a diplomatic mission, and there are certain forms that should be met.”

“He is correct, boys,” Stone said. “Take him to the Vicomte, and then allow them a chance to speak in private. If they want to go a few miles out of town, follow, but at a distance allowing them to speak without being heard. You are there to protect them, not to spy on them.” He watched as they took him to the house where the Vicomte was staying. Mrs. Trellis would be upset when her guest finally left: she had been earning good money from him while he was with her, and lately she had taken to buying beer in bulk, and selling glasses for a forthing or a halfpence a glass to those who had cash. She seemed well on her way to becoming the first tavern keeper in Greenstone.

Stone, however, had a myriad of other things to do. The town had doubled in population over the past week, and there were more and more problems to be solved. After the soldiers led the agent away, he saw Carlson approach: a sign that there was another problem.

“Captain, we have a problem,” the former guard confirmed. “We have two men both claiming to own the same property.”

“How did that happen? Euler has been making lists of all the properties as they are allocated. What is the problem?”

“Both men have adjoining properties,” Carlson said. “The dispute is the boundary between the lands. Apparently there are trees involved.”

“Oooh, it looks like a trial,” Rayla said playfully. “You know I love a man in robes.”

“No robes,” Stone said curtly. “The school should be out in about 15 minutes. We will meet in the stone one.” The recent influx of people after the last wagon was freed meant that the old tent school was still in use, providing a total of four classes per day. Rayla and Stone, who were to get the tent, were now living in a small wooden house, recently completed.

“Do you need a jury?” Rayla asked.

Stone thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “The purpose of a jury is to decide on facts when the story given by the participants don’t agree. I have a better way of knowing who is telling the truth.” He patted the sword on his shoulder.

They rode over to the school, and Stone was gladdened by the children as they ran out the doors, finally free to go and play again. He went in, and asked the schoolmaster for permission to use the room, promising that they would be done before the evening classes. As Carlson was a student in that session, he would ensure that things moved along.

The two men were brought in, and Stone asked the complainant his side of the story. Apparently the man had received his property when the town was first established. He had been a slave who looked after an orchard before, so he was glad to get a property with apple trees on it. There were eight rows of trees with four trees in each. Due to being left wild for several years, the crop this year would only be crab apples, but he had started the pruning needed to bring the trees back, in hopes of a good crop in the following year.

There was an additional four trees behind his, with a split rail fence separating them from the rest of the orchard, as well as a collection of bee hives, essential for fertilization of the apply blossoms. When he went back to the rear of his orchard, he found that the rail fence had been moved: Carlson confirmed that you could still see the old marks of the fence. An additional row of four trees now seemed to belong to the rear property.

The second man then protested that he had not moved the fence, and the first man was merely trying to take away his trees.

“Tell me,” Stone asked. “Do you know anything about orchards? Did you know that the trees will only produce crab apples this year, and into the future unless the trees are pruned professionally.”

“I didn’t,” the man said. “But even crab apples must be worth something.”

“Cider, maybe,” the first man said. “You might get a few quarts out of the few trees you have, including the ones you stole from me.”

That led to some shouting, and Stone finally had to yell to resume order.

“I have a good way of getting at the truth,” he said. “In the past I have used my sword to make a small nick in the throats of the people I am testing. But I understand that any blood will do, so I will make small cuts in the wrists of each of you, and I will know immediately who tells the truth.”

The second man hesitated, but the other stood forward with his arm out. Pate made a small nick, and a few drops of blood fell on the sword. The man was sent to Rayla, who bound the wound. The second man now had little choice but to put out his arm. Pate again tested his blood and reported back to Stone.

«The second man lies,» she said. «He moved the fence four days ago. He also has plans to move it again in a week or so to get another four trees.»

“My sword has confirmed that you are lying,” Stone said. The man started protesting, and Stone began to get angry.

“You moved the fence once, and you had planned to move it again, to take another four rows.” At this, the man fell silent. No one knew of his plans: the sword must have truly read his mind. “In other cases the sword solved disputes by separating the man’s head from his body, but I think that is rather harsh for this situation.”

“I therefore decree that the fence shall be moved back, not the one row to its original position, but another row to enclose all the trees. The beehives also intrigue me. They are essential to the orchard?”

“Yes sir,” the orchard man said. “If they are removed, the trees will not produce. There are not enough wild bees in the area.”

“Then the fence will also enclose the hives,” Stone said.

“But they are quite close to the other house,” the first man said. “If I had my choice, I would move the hives to the center of the orchard. I have a little experience with bees.”

“So be it,” Stone said, then looked again at the second man. “Don’t think you are just getting off with the loss of some beehives and four trees. I want you out of that house in 48 hours. You will live in a tent somewhere nearby, and the house will go to a more deserving family: Lord knows there are enough of those in town now.”

“Further, for the next 90 days you will work for the orchard owner. You will get four hours a day off, and a day every other week. If that sounds like slavery, it is not. You are a convicted criminal, and will work through your sentence. If at any time you decide you don’t want to work for him, or he comes to me claiming you are not working hard enough, there is an alternative. Pate will be quite happy to slice your head off. Your choice.”

Stone finished the court case a half hour before the evening classes were to start. There is more to the story. Three days later, the two men approached Stone and Rayla at the communal evening meal. Both men had more than a few bee stings, and they reported that they had moved the hives, and in doing so had harvested the honey.

“I would like to present this to you,” a woman with the orchard man, clearly his wife, said to Rayla. It was a small box, and when she opened it, saw that it was full of honey, including the wax comb.

“This is a treasure,” Rayla said in thanks. “We will make good use of it.”

“Honey? Is there more?” a woman down the table said. “I will buy some. How much does it cost?”

The woman looked at her husband, but it was Rayla who suggested the price should be five silver. Some in the crowd looked disappointed, but others came up to put in orders. Later Stone learned that all the honey had brought in 40 silver, or two gold total. It would keep the family going until spring at least, when another batch of honey could be harvested, and that would last until fall, when a good apple crop would make the family self-sufficient.

After Stone and Rayla finished eating, she hurried off to their new house to store her liquid gold.

The day of the trial Vicomte Vickers and his man approached Stone before the evening meal.

“You will be happy to know that your demands have been met, and the Duke has ordered all slaves freed from Sarn and all its realm, from the castle walls to the furthest borders of the duchy. There will be protests, but the Duke has made the decree,” the Vicomte said.

“Good,” Stone said, deciphering the tricky words of the diplomat. “And what of within the walls of the castle?”

“Sir, you cannot expect the duke to free his own slaves. He cannot afford to pay wages to so many. He barely brings in enough taxes as it is.”

“Then he needs fewer staff,” Stone said. “All must be freed. How many slaves work at the castle?”

“There are about 500. He needs over 100 to serve at his suppers, and another 50 in the kitchen. Then there is the cleaning staff, the stables, and the groundskeepers?”

“Why 100 to serve? Cannot one person bring the Duke his food?”

“But the Duke never dines alone. His dinners involve at least 100 people at the tables. The Duke likes a lively dinner. He lives for them. All his major staff attend, and their families. Myself and my family of five, the exchequer, the master of the wardrobe, the master of the garderobe, and others.”

“What is a garderobe?”

The Vicomte colored somewhat. “Captain, it is where the Duke does his daily business, you know?”

Stone was amazed. “The Duke has a man to wipe his butt?”

“Well the master does not do it. Slaves do. I think there are five. One to do the task, another who takes the soiled rags away, and two others who launder them. The fifth perfumes the cleaned rags, and determines when they are no longer fit to be reused.”

“It is as I thought,” Stone said. “The man is wasting money left and right. No wonder taxes were so high in Greenford and Greenwood. You can head back now, but let the Duke know that I will follow in a few weeks. I have a bridge to finish up here first. If there is a single slave in that castle when I get there, the Duke will pay.”

Once the Vicomte and his man left, Miss Relants, the scribe/teacher and her new husband approached Stone. “It is finished,” she said. “Our first book.”

Stone opened the folder she had handed him, and saw a title page showing a small mouse, with the title “Tracy Titmouse and her Terrible Tuesday.”

“I need help in assessing this properly,” Stone said and looked about. He found the one he sought playing in a pile of gravel being used to patch up the ruts in the street. It was the little blonde, Lillabet, who had a girl the same age as her next to her as they played. The other girl was as dark as Lillabet was pale, with short curly black hair and a complexion like choc with only a little milk.

“Lillabet, can you come help me?” Stone called out, and the girl rose immediately, dusting off her little dress. “And bring your friend along.”

“Cmon, Em’ly,” Lillabet lisped. “Mr. Stone is a nice man.”

Stone got down off Doug, who wandered off to find some grass to munch on. There was not much available in the burgeoning town. Stone sat down with his back to the stone school wall as the little girls approached.

“Do you girls want to hear a story?” Stone said. “There are pictures.”

“Yes please,” Lillabet said quickly, and the dark girl nodded as well. One nestled into either side of the man’s wide lap.

With that, Stone started to read the story, which recounted the adventures of a little mouse on a day mixed up with adventures. Soon both girls were giggling, and pointing at one part of the pictures or another. In a moment, Stone realized that there was a crowd of other children standing around, and he started giving the pages to Lillibet as he finished reading, so she could show them to the standing children.

When he finished, a young boy in the crowd noted that he hadn’t heard the start of the story, and could the Captain please read it again for him. Stone turned the pages over, and went through the entire book again, with the little girls on his lap enjoying it as much as the first time.

Miss Relants had stood by all this time, and Stone finally handed the folder back to her. “We seem to have a success here,” he said. “There is a little print shop down in Greenwood. I will order 200 copies. I want them to be given to the students as an award for working hard at school. These children were born slaves: to actually own something of their own will be special to them. Can you work on something for the older children next?”

The teacher agreed, thrilled to see how the students had taken to her story. Some knew the story … it was one she had told in class at story time, but of course this was the first time it was shown with the cute pictures that her husband had created.

“I have some ideas for a book for older kids,” she said, and then headed off. She wanted to use the pictures for the next reading in her classes.

Meanwhile Stone remained seated, with two little girls hugging him tight. “I love you, Mr. Stone,” Lillibet said. Then her shyer friend said: “I love you too, Mr. Stone.”

“Well, you girls should run off to your parents,” Stone said. “It will be supper soon.”

“Em’ly don’t has parents,” Lillibet said. “Only Jason.”

“What?” Stone said as the girls uncurled themselves from his lap. “Where do you live, Emily?”

She led him around the corner to the tent that housed the other half of the school. He could see where the corner of the tent was raised, and a narrow slit dug in under the plank floor. “This is where we sleeps,” she said shyly.

“Well, it is supper time now, so will you come to supper with me?”

“I can’t. I has to have supper with Jason,” the little girl said.

“Well, Jason will have to join us,” Stone said, picking up the little girl. “Come on.”

He met Rayla at the cookout, where they found themselves a bit early, and had to wait. The head cook came over.

“Captain,” she said. “One of the girls from the kitchen came up with an idea I feel you should consider. You know that the penny rolls we get from the bakery are a popular addition to the stew? They charge us a discount, so we only pay a ha’penny each.”

“Yes?”

“Well, the girl suggested that we charge a penny per roll, and say that up till now has been an introductory special. That way we will recoup the price of the roll, and defray the cost of the stew. The newcomers who depend on the meal will still be able to get the stew free, but those who have cash will pay if they want a roll. It also might lead to more of the people who no longer need the free meal to make their own, creating more business at the butcher and the store.”

“That is a wonderful idea,” Stone said. “Tell people today that this is the last free roll, and that tomorrow there will be a charge. Don’t offer credit to any who ‘forgot to bring coin’.”

Stone felt himself being watched, and turned around to see a young boy watching him, or more precisely watching Emily. “Are you Jason?” Stone asked.

“She is my sister,” the boy said. His skin was jet black, several shades darker than Emily’s. “I looks after her.”

“Well, today we are all eating together. Would you join us?”

“Dunno. Okay. Yes,”

So Rayla got two helpings of the meal, handing one to the boy, while Stone managed to hold the girl in one hand and balancing two plates in the other hand, one oversized plate with his stew and roll, and a much smaller plate for Emily.

He followed Jason and Rayla to the benches, still empty since they were the first served. Jason sat down a spot away from Rayla, and Stone took the empty seat. Jason moved away from him, and said: “Em’ly kin set there.”

“I likes it up here,” the tot said from Stone’s lap.

Jason slid back. “Eat up, Em’ly. We needs to go to our sleeping place afore it gits dark.”

“About that,” Stone said. “Emily showed us where you have been sleeping. I don’t think it is a proper place for children, especially since it looks like it may rain tonight. We have a spare room in our house, and want you two to sleep there.”

“I looks after Em’ly,” the boy retorted. “She shouldn’t of showed you our place.”

“And you can still look after her,” Stone said. “You can both sleep on some blankets in the new place. We will get some beds made for you soon.”

The boy grumbled that it was okay, “as long as I get to look after Em’ly. I promised Momma.”

“What happened to your mother?” Rayla asked. She was falling in love with the little Kithren children just as Stone clearly had.

“She was kilt by a slaver the night afore you rescued us. He had been raping Momma, and was Em’ly’s real father. But when Momma got sick, he kilt her. I was going to kill him, but Mr. Stone sliced him into little pieces,” the boy said, apparently sad that he didn’t get a chance to kill the man.

“What happened you your father?” Rayla asked.

“Let me guess,” Stone said. “Jason looks to be a full Kithren, while Emily looks half white. The Kithren people are famous for not falling into slavery. I suspect that Jason’s father fought back when they tried to enslave his family, and either died in the attempt, or escaped.”

“He got away,” Jason said. “He kilt two of the men, and cut up another real bad. Then more come and he had to run for it. He will come save us some day.”

“He doesn’t need to save you anymore,” Stone said. “You are free children, not slaves, and he will be free if he comes here. But until he does, you can stay with us. It will be warmer than under a tent.”

Ahead of schedule this time: Dawn.

Stone

16. Preparing to travel

Stone slowly drifted into the half-sleep that comes with morning, and cuddled the small body next to him. Suddenly enough brain cells started working for him to realize that the body was not Rayla. It was Emily, who had somehow wormed into the space between them, and as Stone stood up, he saw Jason at the door between the rooms.

“I lost Em’ly,” he said with more than a note of fear in his voice.

“She’s right there, under the covers with Rayla, safe and sound.”

“Whew,” the boy said in relief. “Is it morning?”

“Close enough,” Stone said. He then went into the little room. There was a chair with a hole in the seat, and a porcelain pot underneath. The big man sat down: Rayla had claimed his aim was bad when he tried using the pot while standing. He barely fit into the chair, which had been specially made to fit him. When he was finished, he came out and Jason went into the room, which he considered a luxury after weeks of peeing in the trees.

Stone was dressed when the boy got out, and helped the youngster get dressed. “Phew,” he said. “We are going to have to get you some new clothes. I don’t think a simple washing will get the stink out of these. Come on.”

The two walked out of the house and then the three blocks to the business section. They went into the bakery, the only business open so far. The aromas were enticing.

“I’d like to get six of your penny rolls,” Stone told the baker, and a six penny loaf of bread.” He noticed Jason staring at some pastries. “How much are the pastries?”

“Tuppence,” the baker said.

“One of those for the boy,” Stone said, and Jason looked up with joy on his face.

“And one for Em’ly?”

“Make it three,” Stone said, “Rayla will complain if she doesn’t get one too.” He handed the man a silver and a six pence. The bread was wrapped in one sheet of waxed paper, and the baker wrapped the rolls in the other. The pastries were carried loose by Jason, although he managed to get one into his mouth as he carried the others in his hand.

Back at the house, Emily squealed when she saw Stone and her brother, and then squealed again when Jason handed her a pastry, his not having lasted through the walk home. “Thank you, sir,” Rayla told him as he handed her one. She seemed to enjoy it. It was clear that Jason had enjoyed one, since he had the syrup all over his face, which Rayla washed immediately. Then she almost managed to eat her treat before seeing that Emily’s face was also covered in the syrup. But before she could stop to clean the girl, Stone reached over and washed her face.

“I need to take the kids for clothes,” Rayla said. “Hopefully the seamstresses are free.”

“I think they are mostly making cloth bags to hold coal and coke. And apparently they found a salt vein up in the hills, so they will start needing bags for that too,” Stone said. I want to lead a trade wagon down to Sarn in the next week or so. I need to check up on the Duke. While you are with the women, I will be at the new bridge. I think they are close to needing the cross braces.”

“I want to see the bridge,” Jason said.

“You go with Rayla this morning, and look after your sister. That is your job, isn’t it,” Stone said. “Nothing is probably happening at the bridge until later. You should have a couple free hours until Rayla needs to register you into the afternoon classes at the school.”

“I don’t want to go to school,” Jason said.

“You need to learn how to read and write,” Stone said. “And this morning at the store: you saw that you need to know how money works, so we can send you on errands when you are a bit older. You didn’t know that six penny rolls and a sixpence loaf cost a silver, did you?”

“No sir.”

“Well, most merchants are honest, but some will cheat you if they know you don’t understand your numbers. So you will go to school. It’s only a few hours a day, and Rayla will try to get you into Miss Relants’ class.”

“Is Em’ly goin’ to school?”

“No, but Rayla will get her into the pre-school with her friend Lillibet,” Stone said, and this caused Emily to dance with glee, ending Jason’s small rebellion.

When Rayla had left with the children, Stone walked to the stables to get Doug. It wasn’t much further walking the other way to the river, but Doug was in contact with Arthur, and Stone could find out if there was any danger approaching. There was not.

As he got near the river, he saw a man he recognized whittling a pile of sticks. It was clear that he was making parts for a chair. The old fellow was a talented joiner, and had been a slave of a master joiner in another town, before being sold when his master died and the widow shut up the shop.

“Andrees,” Stone called out. “You are up early. Is business that busy?”

“Tis, Captain,” the man said. “Last week it was all beds, but now more and more people want a chair or a set in their house. Do you need one?”

“Probably soon,” Stone said. “We have some small visitors for the next little while. But what I am really interested in is a wagon.”

“Hooper is the wainwright,” Andrees said. “He’s down the other way a couple of blocks. Pretty busy too, I understand.”

“No, I’m not looking for a carter’s wagon,” Stone said. “I’m thinking of something fancier.”

“Like that thing the Vicomte guy had?”

“Not exactly,” Stone dismounted and started sketching in the sand, drawing pictures of what he wanted from front, side, and rear views. It finally clicked for Andrees.

“Yeah, I can make something like that: except the wheels. And the wheelwright is backed up. You’re going to need something different than the ones he makes. Probably 40 inches on the diameter, and two inches thick. If you can get them with steel hoops on the treads they’ll last forever, and carry all that weight.”

“I’m headed south next week, I think,” Stone said. “I’ll order a set when I’m in Sarn, or one of the other towns.”

“Make sure you get five,” Andrees said. “I’ll make a little holder on the back for the spare. You never know when you need an extra, and they always seem to break when you are miles from anywhere to fix them.”

“Great. When will it be ready?”

“Well, your trip south should take two weeks. I should have the body done by then. If you bring wheels back with you, it will take two days to install them.”

Stone rode over to the area where the wood wrights were working on the bridge beams. They were about the size of the dam beam, but there were two. While he watched the men square off the final edge of the second beam, he saw Jason run up and stand behind him.

“You want to get up here to see better?” Stone asked, and the little fellow nodded. Stone reached down and lifted the boy up until he was on the horse in front of him.

“We are ready for you, Captain,” the leader of the woodsmen said. “We have a team of geldings to tow the beam down to the river. Cuts down on the amount of carrying.

«Horse, eunuchs,» Doug said with a sneer. He wasn’t a big fan of gelded horses, preferring the mares. But the geldings were stronger, except for stallions, and Doug was the only stallion in the town. And Doug considered most manual labor to be beneath his dignity.

The team of six horses managed to drag the first beam down to the riverside in about a half hour. Then Stone slid off the horse, which had agreed to let Jason sit on him to watch. Pretty much every boy in town that was not in school was watching, and many envied Jason’s perch on the Captain’s horse.

Stone went to the middle of the beam, and strained mightily to lift it. Three large men were on either end of the beam, and they all waded into the river, and lifted the beam up onto the two pilings at either side of the river. The last two feet of the lift were the hardest, since Stone had to lift alone, with the other men too short to reach where he was. Finally the beam dropped into place in the dados left for it in the pilings, and quickly smaller men were hoisted up to allow them to use spikes to secure it.

By this time, the second beam was ready, and the men hoisted it up and dropped it into position on the second pair of pilings. As soon as it was nailed in, men started putting the cross pieces into position, working from each end to the middle. The cross pieces stabilized the bridge, and when they were half way to the middle, the bridge was very stable. As well as putting the cross planks down, men at either end were working on the approaches to the bridge.

Stone got out of the water, dripping wet, and hoisted himself onto Doug behind Jason. “Wow,” the boy said. “You are very strong. Will I be strong like that when I grow up?”

“You probably won’t be as big as me,” Stone said. “But you can still be a good fighter if you practice hard. I’ll get you a wooden practice sword when you get a bit older, and teach you to fight. Then, when you are 15, you will be able to get a real sword. Right now I’m pretty wet. I’ll ride you over to the lunch area, and you can find your sister and take her to lunch, and then to school.”

“Okay. School is going to be pretty cool. All the guys saw me on your big horse, and were impressed. I’m going to work really hard at the school and try to learn everything so I can be smart like you.”

Stone smiled as he let the boy down near where Emily was playing with Lillibet. He saw the boy get the girls to stand and head over to the table, where a lunch of sandwiches was prepared for the students, along with a glass of goat milk. With a full stomach, classes in the school or the pre-school were more productive.

Stone went to the house, where Rayla was making him a sandwich of his own. It was actually two of the rolls they had bought in the morning, with a dab of honey on each. Stone had to change his wet clothes, as the fall sun was not as warm today.

“Jason in getting two sets of clothes like yours,” Rayla said. “The seamstresses have a bit of deerskin leathers available. Emily’s clothes are a bit more difficult. There is a real shortage of cloth in town, with most of it going to dresses for the adults. But apparently the bakery gets its flour and sugar in cloth bags, and one of the ladies said she could make something cute for her from that.”

“My daughter is not going to go around town in a flour sack,” Stone said, clearly enraged.

“Your daughter? I didn’t know we had decided to adopt,” Rayla said. “I’m in favor, by the way, but I would have appreciate being a part of the decision.”

Stone realized that the argument was no longer about flour sacks, and that he was on shaky ground.

“Sorry,” he said. “I guess we need to talk. But I love the both of them so much; I can’t imagine them not being a part of our family. And what would we do? Let them go back into sleeping under tents?”

“I agree,” Rayla said. “What do we do? Do we have to go before a judge or something?”

“Well, it seems I am the judge around here.” Stone said. “But I think we need to let the children decide if they want to join our family. It is only fair. If they say yes, then we will let people know they are ours.”

“Good. And on the other matter, you haven’t seen the dress, so keep your opinion to yourself until you do.”

After that, the rest of the lunch went well, with Stone wisely complimenting Rayla on the meal.

During the afternoon, Stone went around town organizing a trade caravan to Greenwood, Greenford, and Sarn, to leave in two days. He bought several wagons, and got suitable horses to pull them: mares only, to placate Doug. He then bought 12 100-pound sacks of coal, 8 of coke, and five 50-pound sacks of salt, filling one wagon that would have four horses pulling. Another two-horse wagon would have some handmade chairs, carved knick-knacks from a whittler, and the food needed for the two week round trip: mostly beans, flour, and vegetables. Rayla and Arthur would go hunting for meat as needed. Stone also made room for a small selection of slates from the quarry: not enough to roof a house, but enough that people could decide if they wanted to order more. He also arranged for two experienced drivers for the wagons. The children would come along: Stone couldn’t imagine leaving them behind so early in the relationship.

That evening Stone and Rayla were not first at the serving tables, but one of the men who was complained loudly about being asked to pay for rolls.

“This is ridiculous,” the man fumed. “This is supposed to be a free meal. And then you want a penny for a roll. I’m going to complain to someone about this!”

“You can complain to me,” Stone said. “I am the one paying for your free meal, which I see you are still taking even though the town is paying you to work on the bridge. The meal will continue into the future, for people who are new to town, but it is not intended to be free forever. Once you start earning silver, you are expected to pay. I think they expect three or four pence for a meal, and that includes a roll.”

“I see you eat here every night,” the man stated.

“I do, and many say I should eat for free, since I pay for most of the costs of the meal, and my wife provides much of the game used in the stew,” Stone said. “But I have been paying a silver or more each night ever since the meal started.” One of the servers nodded in agreement.

“If I pay, can I get two rolls,” the man said, no longer shouting.

“A penny per roll,” the server lady said. The man handed over a tuppence: “Two please.”

“Thank you,” the server said. Then, as the man walked away, she turned to Stone and added another “Thank you.”

Stone and Rayla then got their plates filled, and Stone paid a silver and four pence for the four meals. They went and found Jason and Emily sitting with the Ranston family, with Lillabet next to her friend Emily. Rayla oohed and aahed over the twin babies she had helped deliver, who were growing like crazy. They had a six-year-old son, and he and Jason were seated next to each other.

“I hear you are heading south tomorrow,” Ranston said. “Keep a look-out for a saw blade. I own a sawmill, but can’t cut wood. I manage to keep my men busy splitting logs into planks, but it is slow work and barely covers costs.” Stone noted that there were no rolls on the plates of the Ranston family, only the free stew. He tore his roll in half, and handed it to Ranston, and then watched proudly as his family did the same, sharing their treat with their friends.”

“Oh, these are lovely,” Nessa said to Rayla. “I wish we could afford these. It is hard trying to keep a family on next to nothing.”

“You will be a rich mill owner’s wife in no time,” Stone said. “I will look for a saw blade. The trip south isn’t until the day after tomorrow.”

“What about the children?” Nessa asked. “Will they miss school?”

“Yes, but both Rayla and I are literate, so we will school them during the trip.”

After the friendly supper Stone and Rayla took the children home. The past few days Stone had gotten down on the floor and told the little ones stories, usually fairy tales he remembered from Earth. Apparently this was now a tradition, and the pair begged him for another ‘story’. Stone got down, and Emily crawled up on his lap, while Jason cuddled in beside him. Even Rayla got down, sitting on the other side as Stone recited a fairy tale he could remember. When Stone finished the third story of the night, he decided that was enough.

“Now children,” he said. “Rayla and I have something to ask you. Both of you must agree on this. Do you want us to be your new parents?”

“Daddy!” Emily shrieked. “I have a Daddy now. A good Daddy. Yes, yes, yes. Please be my Daddy.”

Stone turned to Jason, who appeared to be thinking it over. “Yes please,” he said. “The boys at school used to throw stones at me because I was black, and poor. But now that I know the Captain, and ride his horse, they like me. I would love if you were my father and mother, as long as I can continue to look after Emily. I promised my old mother that I would.”

“Rayla and I will look after Emily,” Stone said. “But you are her big brother so you will help. Is that okay?”

Jason nodded. “Right,” Rayla said. “Time for the mean old Mommie to step in. We are going on a trip in two days, so I want to know what you are learning at school now. Stone and I will be your teachers while we are away, and learning while we are on the wagon will be a good way to pass the time.”

Emily was learning her letters, and she and Rayla practiced, with the woman drawing a capital letter on the slate, and the girl identifying it, then trying to draw one on her own. Jason was learning counting, and the odd money system in the community, so Stone got out his purse and spread out the coins within, so the boy could identify the denominations, and to learn the values of each, from forthing to golden pound.

Eventually, small eyes began to get tired looking, and Stone told Jason to take his sister to bed.

A longer chapter this time: Dawn.

Stone

17. Trip south

Jason heard the heavy footsteps of Stone getting up in the morning, so he pulled on his new clothes and hurried to join him for the walk downtown. He really liked the new buckskins Rayla had gotten for him yesterday: three pairs. They looked almost identical to Stone’s, except far smaller. He was proud of his new papa, and loved dressing the same as him. Emily had gotten three new dresses as well. They were mostly made of old flour sacks, but had ribbons and fancy bits that the girl loved, and he had to admit, they looked good.

Jason and Stone walked to the bakery. He knew there was a treat coming: not always a pastry, but sometimes a cookie or a tart. He would get one for his sister. He never forgot his mother telling him that he was to look after Emily seconds before Millstream had slit her throat and threw her body off the trail. Jason had vowed to kill the man, but instead had the satisfaction of watching Stone slice his head off when his sword had declared the man was evil.

Stone held his hand on the way to the bakery, and Jason looked around to see if any of the boys in town were up and around. He was glad to notice a couple, and saw that they noticed the big man and the small black boy. Since Stone and Rayla had taken them in, people all through the town showed him respect, when before it was scorn.

Emily made friends easily. Jason had more trouble, not always trusting white people. But now everyone nodded to him, even when he was alone. He was working hard in school, because Stone had asked him to. He especially wanted to understand money. So many different kinds, some silver, some coppers, and even the golden crowns.

When the pair walked back to the house, chatting as they went, Jason noticed the honey-pot man was there, talking to Rayla. The man came early every morning, and emptied the porcelain dish from beneath the morning chair. He put the liquid in a vat at the front of the wagon, and the other stuff into a smelly pile behind. Apparently he sold the liquid to the tanner, and the solids went into a compost pile with all the straw and mess that was cleared out of the stable. The tanner gave the man enough money to live on, and next spring, when the compost pile had matured, he would have a valuable resource to sell to gardeners or farmers.

“Rayla is having a conversation with the honey-pot-man,” Stone said as they walked back. “Do you think she is planning to run away with him?”

“I hope not,” Jason said. “That wagon is pretty stinky.”

“I was cancelling his visits after today,” Rayla said as they approached. “We are gone tomorrow, after all. Do you all want honey buns for breakfast, or should we walk done to the supper place for a breakfast.”

“Daddy got us tarts, Momma,” Jason said.

“Well, let me wash my hands after I put this away,” she said of the white pot. “Then we can have our treats.”

After buns and tarts, Jason took Emily to the play area, and stood nearby where he could see her. Three boys his age came up to him and started chatting. No one had ever done that before, and the boys said they wanted to go to the river and chuck stones. Jason turned them down: he wanted to keep Emily in sight. No one ever seemed to bother her, but he wanted to make sure she was safe and not being teased. As the only blacks in the town, occasionally there were things said. If it was to Jason, he usually ignored it, but if anyone said anything bad to his sister, he got involved. He had been in more than one fight before the other children learned not to tease.

After lunch it was time for school, and after that there was a couple free hours at home, where Rayla grilled them about what they had learned in school, because tomorrow they would get school on the wagon. Dad had been getting the wagon train all set up while they were in school, and just before supper he led two of the heaviest wagons across the new bridge as a test. It held up fine with his weight, Doug, and a four-horse team pulling a wagon carrying a ton of coal.

The next morning Stone was up before Jason woke, and got Doug and the wagon the family would ride in, and had it parked outside the house as the sun rolled over the horizon. He pulled up as Rayla was dumping the urine out of the porcelain pot, and then rinsing it out.

“You called off the honey-pot-man a day too soon,” Stone said.

“Well, it was only liquids,” Rayla said. “And I don’t want to come back in two weeks to what ever would be growing in there. Besides, I need the pot for on the road. You and Jason will be able to go in the bush, but Emily and I will need some privacy and the pot.”

“Are the kids ready? I stopped at the bakery and got rolls and bread, and a dozen cookies,” Stone said.

“Put them next to my seat in the wagon,” she said. “We’ll make a little breakfast in the wagon as we ride.”

Minutes later the kids were in the wagon, each munching a roll hungrily. Stone tied Glory to the rear of the wagon. Doug didn’t like being tied, but walked next to Rayla’s mare as if he was. They got to the river road where the other wagon was tied up with two drivers sitting on the bench. As well there were eight other wagons owned by other members of the community who had goods to sell in the south.

Stone tossed two rolls to his drivers, who gratefully accepted them. One of the drivers got out and walked over to take Stone’s place. He moved over to sit on Doug. He preferred riding to steering a wagon, and didn’t want Rayla to have to drive, even part time. Hiring a man had been the solution.

There were a few boys out early to see the train leave, chasing and waving to Jason. To them he was going on a great adventure, while they had to stay home and go to school. Riding the wagon was an adventure for about a half hour, and then it became boring. That is when Rayla started lessons for the children in the back of the wagon. Both had chalk and slates.

The lessons took up most of the morning, and when the kids started to get hungry about halfway through, each got a cookie. But with the sun high, Rayla got up and mounted Glory. “Arthur says there are deer nearby. I think I’ll go get lunch.”

“Can you take Jason with you?” Stone asked. “It is time he learned a bit about hunting.” The boy’s eyes went wide with excitement.

“If he sits at the back and doesn’t talk or fuss,” Rayla said. “Hop on son.”

This meant that Emily was upset to be left out, but calmed down when Stone said she could ride Doug with him. She mounted in front of the big man, and waved at Rayla and Jason as the rode towards a copse of trees.

The pair returned about a half hour later, with Jason sitting on the carcass of a small deer. Stone had circled the wagons when he saw them returning, and the drivers has set up a quick camp, with a small fire and a pot of water boiling. Two drivers were peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables. The meat was laid out and cleaned, and bits of venison were added to the pot. When enough meat was added to make a hearty stew, the rest of the meat was sliced into thin strips, and added to a pot of boiling salt water, to make venison strips of jerky to munch along the way.

After lunch, they rode for another six hours before circling the wagons again for supper. Rayla was glad that the wagon drivers were not sexist, expecting her to do the food preparation. Most trains don’t have any females, so the men learn to do the tasks themselves.

“We have company coming,” Rayla announced as supper was being prepared. “Arthur says there are two wagons approaching from the south, with about 20 men on board. He says they do not look martial, although I don’t know how he can tell that from the air. They are about an hour away.”

“Good,” Stone said. “We have time to have supper first. When we finish up, toss in some more meat and veggies, so we can treat our visitors. I will take three men with us. Rayla, you will stay with the kids.”

After eating, Stone mounted Doug and headed south. From the corner of his eye he saw that Rayla had mounted Glory and had veered off near the river to cover the meeting with her bow. He looked back, and saw that the kids were in the care of his driver who had learned that giving them each a cookie make him a friend forever.

Stone came over the first ridge south of camp and could see the two wagons, and understood how Arthur knew they weren’t a threat. There were five men walking, and about seven on each wagon, with their heads down doing something. The walkers saw the four riding towards them, and immediately showed signs of alarm.

“We have no coin, and very little food,” one of the walkers said as Stone got within hailing distance. The men clearly thought the four approaching were bandits.

“Relax,” Stone called back. “We mean you no harm. We are travellers heading south, and are camped just over this ridge. You are welcome to join us. We have a meal ready for you. Our advance scout saw you, and sent us out to guide you to the camp.”

“Excuse us for thinking poorly of you,” the man walking said. “I am Hampton and these men are fugitive slaves from Sarn. We were beset by bandits outside of Sarn. They took all our money and food, and killed two of us even though we offered no resistance. There are many bandits between Sarn and Greenford, mostly former soldiers of the Duke of Sarn.”

“There are still slaves in Sarn?” Stone said, starting to show anger.

“Well, not officially,” Hampton said. “The Duke announced that all slaves in the city were to be freed a few weeks ago. We all worked at one of the largest saw mills in the city, and our owner only offered a minimal wage to work for him when slavery ended. So we left. Only three remained with him, and none of those are very skilled.”

“And you brought along tools and blades?” Stone said. “Isn’t that theft?”

“Perhaps,” Hampton said. “But we only took the old and unused tools. We have been sharpening and repairing tools all the way on the trip. You see that big saw blade? We have had a man on either side, sometimes three around it, all the way north. We hope to have it sharpened and repaired so it is like new by the time we get to Newtown. Hopefully there will be need for sawyers there.”

“We come from Greenstone, which the people of the south call Newtown,” Stone said. “There you will be welcomed. Up to now we have been slabbing trees to make wood, as we have no big saws. You seem to be fully equipped.

“Aye, we have enough men and saws for four pits. I am a top dog, and Ceren here is my underdog. We would need to dig pits, but then we can each cut a timber morning and afternoon. Eight other men are fellers, and they have different blades for cutting trees down. Another three are axemen, and they clean the logs of branches and such.”

“I think all of our men have been using axes to fell trees. Then they use wedges and sledges to split the logs into planks,” Stone said. The man winced.

“The men working on the big circular blade will probably have to find something else to do,” Hampton said. “We have no steam engine to power the blade. But at worst, we will be able to sell the blade, once it is sharpened.”

“Maybe not,” Stone said. “There is a man up in Greenstone who is building a mill on a mill pond. Will the blade work from that?”

Hampton’s eyes lit up. “Perfect, a mill is better than an engine, as it needs no coal, coke or wood for fuel. Some of the men working on the blade have experience with mills, and will be able to set it up properly.”

“This is my lady,” Stone said as Rayla approached on Glory when she saw the there was no danger. “Apparently she felt she had to come out to meet you rather than waiting with our children.”

As they walked back to the camp, Rayla heard a cry of Mommie, and saw little Emily running towards them. Soon she was in the saddle in front of Rayla, and Jason, who had followed his sister silently, was hoisted up onto Doug. The wagons of the visitors were let into the circle, and the men were all welcomed to their meal.

“First food in two days,” Hampton said between bites. “The people of Greenford and Greenwood each fed us a meal after they learned our food was stolen, but it is two days between those towns, and another two days up to here.”

“Well, you will be fed again when you get into Greenstone,” Rayla said. “If you make good time.”

“And if not, see a man named Ranston,” Stone added. “He is the mill owner and will look after you, I’m sure.”

“Is he a good master?” Hampton said. “It will be good to work for someone kind.”

“Master?” Stone queried. “You forget. You are slaves no longer. As freemen, if an employer is cruel, you can just leave. But you will find Ranston a good man. He was a slave himself until recently. He may not be able to pay much, if anything, until you start producing planks, but he will be fair once the money starts coming in.”

“Tell me more about Sarn,” Stone asked as Hampton slowed down and began to eat less frantically. “Are all the slaves free?”

“Sort of,” the man said as he mopped up gravy with his roll, “Some owners refused to obey, but their slaves revolted in some cases. And the castle still has many slaves. But the Duke has raised taxes beyond the breaking point. It was one thing to set taxes at 50%, but then they were raised to the point where the tax collectors just came and took it all. The food and meat places got it worst. The collectors just took their wares for the Duke’s fancy dinners. Sometimes they didn’t even leave enough for the owners to live off of.”

“I have heard of those dinners,” Stone noted.

“Our business was not affected as much,” Hampton continued, “although money was always short. A lot of people heard about the low taxes in Greenford and Greenwood, and wanted to move, but knew they would have to give up their slaves. So when the Duke freed all the slaves, it started a mass exodus of people leaving. Greenford is packed with people, and Greenwood is little better. Of course, they are also dealing with the people coming in for the game.”

“What game is that?” Stone said.

“It is called footy, and it is something the local boys play, kicking a goat bladder filled with air around a pitch. Once a year the boys of Greenwood go to Greenford, for a big battle. This year the match is in Greenwood, day after tomorrow.”

“That sounds cool,” Stone said. “I used to play football, but it was the Canadian version. What you describe sounds more like soccer. Hopefully we will get to see the game if we get into town on time.”

I hope no one thought I had given up on this. It was a hard one to handle for me, but I hope you will enjoy it: Dawn.

Stone

18. The Footie

The train arrived in Greenwood just before dusk. As they crested the final ridge before the village, they were amazed as how it had changed since their last visit, just over a month ago. There were at least four additional side streets with new houses, either built or under construction. Stone estimated that there were an additional 100 new buildings.

The main street had been extended through the new cross streets, and new businesses were under construction along it. The saloon and adjoining blacksmith shop were now near the center of the community, instead of at the north end.

Even though it was late, Stone saw the smith, Notchless hard at work with his forge.

“Yo Captain,” the smith said in greeting. I fear that you come at a bad time. My stables are full, and I don’t think that Henderson will have any room for you in the saloon either. The annual game is on tomorrow, and the town is packed. We were busy with all the people moving in anyway, but the game has just clogged things up more. I think it is a 90-minute wait to get a meal, and forget about lodging. Even rooms in most houses have been rented out.”

“Well, we slept in the rough last night,” Stone said. “We can do it again. Can you sell us a couple bales of hay and a sack of oats for the horses?”

“Sure, and you can water them at my trough,” the smith said.

“So why all the new construction in the north end of the village?” Stone asked.

“You are the blame for that,” Notchless said. “When you said we will pay no taxes people in Sarn started moving in. Then a couple weeks back, the Duke banned slaves for the people, and that started a flood of people moving in to avoid his ridiculous taxes. He sent collectors to Greenford a couple weeks back, but your soldiers set them packing. Six of the men from here went down there to help, leaving two to look after this town.”

“Yes, I guess I’ll need to get a report from them,” Stone said. “I’m surprised they aren’t here, clamoring for their back pay.”

“No surprise there,” the smith said. “The town has been paying their wages. After they stopped the collectors, the council in Greenford decided that the town should pay them. Most of them are seeing local girls anyway, and I doubt they will want to go back with you. The town here formed a council – I am on it – and decided to levy a 10% tax rate. It will pay for our soldiers, and a few other civic projects. We hope to cobblestone the main street, among other projects. Plus we have been providing three meals for any of the new people who come in. After three days, they have to fend for themselves. Most have a job within hours. The tax collectors didn’t go back to Sarn, but became bandits, and about half the people coming in have been robbed of their food and goods.”

Just then one of the soldiers came in. “Sergeant Harress reporting, sir.”

The soldier reported on the battle in Greenford with the tax collectors, repeating much of what the smith had said. Stone learned that the 14 soldiers from the two towns faced nearly 100 from Sarn, but only a few of those were training in mounted fighting. About 44 of the attackers were killed or wounded, to only one Greenford soldier wounded. His horse was wounded as well, and had to be up down. Two of the mounted enemy surrendered, and the rest ran away, apparently to become bandits, mainly on the road from Sarn to Greenford.

The two who surrendered agreed to work for the village down there in return for eventual citizenship in the village. They told us that the Duke had stopped paying his soldiers, which is probably why they turned to banditry. If they had returned to Sarn empty-handed, bad things would have happened.

“The smith said that most of you fellows don’t want to rotate out,” Stone said.

“No sir,” the sergeant said. “Only Dension hasn’t found a girl down here. The rest of us would leave if ordered to, but really don’t want to go. The fellows down in Greenford say they feel the same. These little towns kinda grow on you.”

“Hrumpf,” Stone said eloquently. “We brought 48 men with us, thinking we needed to use 16 to replace you fellows. But if you want to stay, then you may.”

A huge grin appeared on Harress’s face, then it darkened. “Begging the Captain’s permission.” Stone nodded. “Would it be possible for me to choose the man who replaces Dension? My girl has a sister, and I’d like to choose someone that would be suitable for her. I know several of the lads who would make good mates for her.”

“This girl lives in the house you board in?” Harress nodded. “Why don’t you pick out four men and take them to dinner there tonight? The girl will be happier if she picks her own man. Let me know tomorrow night, and I’ll make sure the man she choses rotates in.”

“You are a genius, Captain. I’ll head off to see your men. I heard they are camping north of town.”

“One minute,” Stone said. “Are we expected to pay board fees for your men?”

“No sir, the town took that over when they started to pay us, including back fees.”

“Good enough,” Stone said. “Take this with you if you are going to the camp.” The big man hoisted the 100-pound bag of oats on the sergeant’s mount, which staggered a bit under the added load. The soldier walked his horse slowly out of town.

Stone grabbed one of the heavy hay bales in each hand, and headed back to the camp, leading Doug. Rayla was at the camp, organizing the set up and minding the children, who ran out to meet ‘Daddy’ when he appeared over the ridge.

Through the evening there was a stream of people from the town who came to the camp to meet with Stone. They were immigrants who were unable to gain acceptance to either Greenford or Greenwood, generally since they had been in businesses that were already in the towns, and didn’t need competition from Sarn. In one case a farmer arrived driving a steer, which he donated to the wagon train, including butchering the meat. He was thrilled to learn that there were no beef cattle farms in Greenstone, and that the Captain suggested he move his herd north. What’s more, a man he knew owned dairy cattle, and donated cheese and milk for the children. Stone told them to go north with four soldiers for protection, since beef on the hoof would be enticing to hungry bandits.

Other craftsmen were told to wait until Stone returned from Sarn. There was a printer, with his presses and type on two wagons. Stone pulled out the book written by Miss Relants and her husband, and the man said he would be able to start printing it as soon as he had a new shop up. Minutes later, a paper-maker appeared, then a glassblower, and a tinker. Stone hoped for a grist mill operator, like the saw mill operators he had already sent north, but was told that none had left Sarn yet, due to the costs involved in carting the heavy equipment.

All were happy to wait, and finally, long after Rayla and the children had gone to bed, Stone was able to join them in their little tent.

The next morning Stone headed to town in the morning, anxious to find out more about this ‘game’. Apparently the field was three miles long, with goals built at either end. Over 100 boys had come up from Greenford, and there were almost twice as many from Greenwood ready to play. Stone immediately insisted that the sides be even: the surplus Greenwood boys would wait until there was an injury or someone tired out. The others would all get to play in the second half.

The game started at 8 a.m., and the half time for lunch would be at noon. At one p.m. the game would resume until the final whistle at 5. The trophy, originally called the Duke’s Trophy, was renamed The Captain’s Cup, and Stone was asked to throw out the first ball. He heaved it over the 200 boys swarmed in front of him, and they moved in a great mass to chase it, with all 200 in a huddle around the ball, using force of weight to push the ball one way or another.

The result was a slow-moving game, although it might have run faster if all 200 home boys were allowed on the field. After a half hour Greenford scored the first goal, and the Greenwood players swarmed around Stone, begging to have the full team on the field.

“No. You boys need to learn to use tactics,” Stone said. He broke the team up into groups of eight, and told them to scatter themselves around the playing field. When Greenwood got the ball, they would kick it to one of the other squads, and quickly move the ball up the field. The boys caught on at once, and agreed to try the method.

At first it seemed a disaster. For a full mile, Greenford controlled the ball, with 100 against eight. But then a Greenwood player managed to kick the ball wildly towards one of the roving squads. All the Greenford players chased, but when they got to that group, the ball had been kicked to another group, and the mob had to chase after it, never catching up until after a tying goal had been scored.

Soon Greenford realized they would have to split up and cover all the Greenwood squads. The result was a faster moving game, with skill starting to triumph over brute force. When the bell rang at noon for lunch, the score was 24 to 22 for Greenwood, a record score, since most games ended in single digits.

The boys came over to Stone before going for their food, telling him the game was much more fun to play, and the injuries were way down. Both teams raised a cheer for ‘the Captain’ and then headed to the meals tables the mothers and girlfriends had set up. Stone and Jason, who had watched the game with more interest than his father, were also fed.

Jason was sure he wanted to play, but it was clear that the youngest boys were 15 or so. The boy agreed that his mother would not allow him to play until he was that age, or at least that size.

In the second half, Greenwood put many fresh players on the field, and as a result the game ended 51-47 in their favor. There were no broken bones in the match, which was unheard of, and mostly minor scrapes and bruises treated by the healers.

The Captain presented the Cup to the winning team, and there were cheers from both sides, with Greenford claiming they would win the rematch. Some people left right after the game, so it was possible for Stone and his family to get a good meal in the hotel that evening, even though the rooms were still full and they had to sleep another night in the tent.

Rayla had only watched about an hour of the game, losing interest, as did many of the women who didn’t have a son or boyfriend playing. She went shopping instead, and bought many trade goods, including the bolts of material that she knew she had to return with unless she wanted to face the seamstresses at her peril.

She sold some of the beef to the local butcher, since roasts and steaks were not appropriate for travel. The men still had a good beef stew each night, and beef jerky for when the fresh meat would have gone bad. She met up with Stone just after he had presented the Captain’s Cup, with the children trailing behind.

“So, are we ready to pull out tomorrow morning?” he asked as they greeted him.

“No,” Rayla said.

“Why not?”

“The butcher said that tomorrow is marrying day this month,” she replied. “His daughter is being wed by the mayor, and he asked if we could stay until after the ceremonies. He said his daughter would be honored if the Captain and his family were at the ceremonies. I said we would be there.”

Stone sighed. Even if he was not the one doing the marriages, it would still mean another day in town. Then he noticed something in Rayla’s eye.

“Wait,” he said. “Is there more to this than … Do you want to get married?”

“A dolly cannot marry her master,” Rayla said, almost by rote.

Stone detected something he had seen in her weeks ago. “If her master orders her to marry him, what happens?”

“Then the dolly would have to obey,” she said, a wide grin appearing on her face.

“I order you to marry me tomorrow,” he said. “Contact the mayor and get us on the list.”

“As you order, master,” Rayla said, and then skipped like a schoolgirl as she ran off to find the village mayor.

“What’s wrong with Mommy,” Jason said, confused by her odd actions.

“She is just happy,” Stone muttered.

“I don’t think I will ever understand grownups,” Jason said.

“No, and don’t expect that you will. Especially the female ones.”

-------

The next day the marriages started at noon, and Stone and Rayla went first. Apparently the honor of being married in front of the Captain was less than being married the same day as the Captain. Rayla wore her best dress, and looked lovely as they said their vows, in front of the two children.

When the ceremony was over, they walked back to the camp, and found their tent missing. O’Breyne, the driver of their special gypsy caravan, approached with a smile on his face, pointing over the ridge at the edge of camp. “I moved your tent over there, for privacy,” he said. “I will look after the kids for the rest of the day, and they can spend the evening in the caravan. I’ll sleep underneath, or inside on the floor if they get scared being alone.”

Stone was about to get angry at his tent being moved, but calmed down as Rayla dragged him towards the new location of the tent. “Hush,” she said. “I told him to do it. I wanted you alone for our first time as a married couple. You are going to get lucky this afternoon, and tonight.”

‘Get lucky’ confused Stone. Up to now Rayla had been afraid to do more than oral sex, claiming his member was too large, and would tear her apart. But now?

Inside the tent she started to undress, and helped him out of his buckskins. Soon they were naked, and she lay back on the pile of furs that made their bed.

“But I thought you were scared,” Stone said.

“I am, a little,” she said. “But I know you will be gentle and stop if I cry out.”

Stone started. He was a bit tentative. He had done this before, but only with his old body, which didn’t seem as dangerous as this one. He went slowly, and there were no screams of ‘stop’ so he continued.

An hour later they lay back and Stone’s member finally flopped out. They had actually done it three times, with Stone able to go flaccid and then regain his hardness without pulling out. Rayla blinked her eyes a few times and then smiled at him.

“Was it good for you too?” she asked.

“Perfect, but I think you have drained me. Did it hurt?”

“Not a bit. I am a dolly, after all. My body was built for this. Expect to leave the kids with O’Breyne a lot in the next little while. But let’s go to the river and clean up, and then to dinner. It must be dinner already.”

It wasn’t, for another two hours. It has just seemed like it had gone on forever. But the kids ran up to hug and play with them until it was time to eat. Then, after dinner it was family time, and when it was their bed times, O’Breyne came by to collect them. Not long after, the captain and his new wife left and walked hand and hand over the ridge.

That night was long and pleasurable for both they newlyweds. Again Stone was able to get erect two or more times in Rayla, who claimed that feeling him harden inside of her was ‘exquisite’. And after they finished once, and Stone felt he could never go again, she managed to use some of the dolly tricks that were engrained into her brain to brink him to the brink again. It was just before dawn when they went down to the icy river to clean up and head back to the camp for breakfast. They were first served, and finished before their excited kids came running over to hug them. O’Breyne followed, and admitted that Emily had been too scared to sleep alone in the caravan, so he came in and slept on the floor. The sound of an adult breathing was all the little girl needed, so she quickly settled down and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

Not such a long wait for this chapter. I felt I owed it to my readers: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 19. The Battle

Stone realized that he was in battle mode. He looked around as he pulled Pate, and saw a wireframe in the distance. It was red, a sign that it was an imminent danger to him. He soon realized that it was a dragon, breathing fire as it swooped around the fields of the farm they were passing. A gust of fire hit the thatch of the barn, and it caught fire.

The farm family ran out, and it was soon apparent that they could not see the dragon. It started to burn down the house they came out of. The family just stood by in shock as flames seemed to spout from no place and burn down their place.

Meanwhile, Stone was flicking Pate about, to stop the arrows that were aimed at his head. Then the arrows started piercing his thigh, painfully. He looked to the left, and saw Rayla there, shooting arrows into his leg since she couldn’t get to his head. But she was only about five feet away: too close for an arrow to have any power. The arrows shouldn’t be able to penetrate at such close range. But they were and they hurt like hell. Blood was gushing from the wounds.

Pate took it badly, and flicked at her. Stone watched in horror as the blade first sliced into her bow, effectively stopping the attack. But the sword continued, and slicked off both of her lower arms at the elbow. She looked up at him in surprise, and then Pate flicked back, and sliced through her tiny waist, killing her.

Stone looked down in horror, and then noticed the two little bodies next to her. One was a black boy in buckskins, and a chocolate-hued girl in a red dress. The horror struck Stone: it was the children. Had he killed them? No wonder Rayla was shooting at him.

As he watched, stunned, there was a roar approaching. Looking to the side he saw that it was the dragon: sounding like a badly tuned semi truck. Stone turned and saw there was a rider on the dragon. It was a girl wearing a golden corset: a very pretty blonde girl. She was aiming the dragon straight for him.

Doug surged forward, and Pate sang as he lifted her into the air. The girl looked shocked when it became apparent that he saw them, and was about to fight back. The next few seconds seemed to all happen at once, even in his battle mode. The dragon shot out a huge gust of fire and burning brimstone. Pate sliced into the head of the beast, splitting it in two. The girl looked on in shock as the sword went in between the two halves of the dragon’s head and then hit her. Pate struck into the corset, making a squealing sound as it cut through the garment and then sliced into her. Finally the sword hit the rear of the corset and welded itself to the metal with a sickening thud as the girl fell into parts.

Stone felt a blinding pain as Doug fell to the ground, burnt to a crisp by the dragon’s fire. Then the pain subsided, and he rose up a few feet. He looked down and saw his own body, burned to well done for the first several inches in from the outside. Looking around he observed the carnage. The people from the house could now see the dragon, and approached fearfully. The girl was dead, split nearly in two. Doug was dead, and then a small flaming mound dropped near Rayla’s body. Arthur must have been seared in the sky. His children were dead, and he couldn’t mourn them more if the had been his from birth. And Rayla, his beloved, was cut into pieces by his own sword. His spirit started keening a loud and distressing dirge: not a song, not a death knell, but something else entirely. He slowly rose into the air, continuing the wail.

Then he felt water spash into his face. He opened his eyes and saw O’Breyne holding an empty water bucket. At the other end of the caravan was Rayla, cuddling two terrified children. The keening continued, until Stone closed his mouth.

“Rayla, you are alive,” he gasped. He moved towards her, but she shrank back, even though she was already in the far corner of the tiny caravan.

“A dream, Captain?” O’Breyne suggested.

“Far worse than that,” Stone said, his heartbeat only starting to return to normal after what he had gone through. “A nightmare: the worst nightmare possible. We died. We all died. Thank God you are all well.”

“Daddy,” a small voice said. “Please don’t ever sing that song again. It scares me.”

“I know sweet heart, but your old Daddy is back. Do you forgive me?”

“Yes Daddy. I loves you,” Emily said with her slight lisp. She pulled away from Rayla and darted over to him to hug him. He could feel her body trembling, and held her tight until she started to calm down.

“I bes’ be goin’ out and telling ever’one that all’s well agin,” O’Bryne said. “Yer caterwailing musta got ever’ one worked up some. I’ll sleep under agin.”

Seeing Emily in Stone’s arm caused Jason to rush over to join him. Finally Rayla came too, and Stone was glad that he could hold his entire family in his strong arms.

“What time is it?” Stone wondered aloud.

Rayla pulled away reluctantly and looked out the door of the caravan. She looked east first, and then west, towards the camp. It was the night of the camp halfway between Greenwood and Greenford. She came back to cuddle some more, and reported: “No signs of light from the east, and the camp fire is just embers. I would guess it is sometime between 2 a.m. and 5.”

“Too early for little heads, then,” Stone said as he rocked Emily a bit. Her fear and tenseness were gone, and she was starting to nod off. He lifted her and put her in the box that was her bed in the caravan, and then urged Jason to his tiny bed. In a few minutes both were sound asleep, as if nothing had happened.

Rayla got into Stone’s strong arms, and pushed him back into their bed, where he recounted the dream.

“You can’t shoot an arrow from that distance,” she argued at one point. “It’s a matter of physics.”

“When has physics had anything to do with a dream, or nightmare,” Stone replied. “I mean, only in a nightmare would I kill you. That was worse than being fried myself inside that dragon.”

“Are there even dragon’s in this world?” she said, happily cuddled in his arms.

“I don’t know. If there is a storyteller in Greenford we will have to ask.”

They slowly got to sleep, and slept until O’Breyne shook the door to let them know that the camp was rising, and breakfast would happen soon.

They reached Greenford that evening, and it was just as booming as Greenwood had been, with more streets and more building and businesses going on. Both communities had far surpassed the point of being villages, and were now small towns.

The reaction was similar to Greenwood, although there was no game planned: just a busy day stocking up. In the dry goods store Rayla found more bolts of cloth that she just had to have, and Stone asked the merchant where he got his stocks.

“There is a linen mill in Sarn,” he said. “But I haven’t gotten much out of them lately. I guess things down there are pretty hectic, what with the duke taxing everything so dearly.”

“I hope that we can straighten that town around,” Stone replied. “I expect it would be a major undertaking to move an entire mill to one of our towns.”

“Yes. I think they had over 300 slaves there,” the man said. “When the duke declared all of them free a few came up this way to work in other trades. I don’t know if enough stayed on to keep the mill viable.”

“If they did, you can expect your next batch of goods will be dearer,” Stone explained. “It costs a bit more to run a business when you are paying wages. Now, the other thing I hope to find in Sarn are miller’s wheels. You don’t know if the local miller has a spare set, do you?”

Just then a woman who had been comparing fabric with Rayla darted out the door. She came back in, followed by a man in tradesmen clothing.

“Excuse sir,” the man said. “My wife said you were asking about miller stones. Perhaps I can help?”

“Do you know of any?” Stone asked, getting excited.

“Not here in Greenford,” the man replied. “But I worked for a miller in Sarn, and when we were all freed almost the entire workforce left. After working a bit as a carpenter’s assistant I find I would like to go back to milling. Others in town may feel the same, or some of the ones up in Greenwood.”

“Where is this wheel?” Stone asked.

“At the old mill in Sarn,” the man said. “We didn’t even get the new wheels installed before we all quit. With the couple men he has left I doubt it has moved. He might sell it to you. Or you could just take it, like the old duke would have had he any use for it. But he just wanted to take the flour we made, not the tools to make it.”

“No, taking things is not our way,” Stone said. “What do you think it is worth?”

“In normal times, probably 75 gold,” the man replied. “But these days, you might get it for 10 gold.”

“We were thinking 50.”

“At that price he won’t be able to shake your hand fast enough,” the miller said. “I’d come down with you to show you the place if I didn’t have to look after the wife here.”

“Why don’t you both come,” Stone said, getting an eager nod from Rayla. “Your lady can talk fabrics with my wife …” Rayla beamed on hearing her title “… and you both won’t be much trouble on the wagons. Food is plentiful, and good, I am told. I will introduce you to the mill owner when we get to Greenstone. And I will pay you four silver a week for your time ‘til then.”

“Do you think your miller would like some help setting up?” the man asked. “I can mention it to the other boys in town, and they can head north themselves while we go to Sarn to get the wheel. I’m not the only one who wants to get back to what we know. They might be able to get the mill ready before we get the wheel to them.”

“I think that is possible,” Stone replied. “Have them tell the miller that we should be able to get a wheel. I’ll even cut two soldiers out of the group coming with me to accompany them, and prevent any problems with bandits.”

The man darted off, and his wife remained with Rayla for the rest of the day as she shopped for vegetables and other goods for the train to keep the meals tasty.

They spent the night in the local hotel, and the kids, who had spent the day trailing after O’Brayne were ecstatic at being able to sleep indoors, even though it was on cots brought into their parent’s room. The next night would be a camp out again, and then they hoped to be in Sarn, which excited the children to no end. Greenwood and Greenford had be exciting for them, but Sarn was the end of the trip and they acted as though it was a city with streets paved in gold.

At supper that night, Arthur alerted Rayla that there was a band of about 50 bandits hidden a few miles from the campfire. Stone got the soldiers together and set up a perimeter, warning the wagoneers and other men to get weapons to provide a reinforcement line. O’Breyne took the children into the caravan, while Rayla got her bow and quiver and took a horse off to the north, within bow range of the line.

In about 15 minutes the bandits attacked. They were a ragged lot, and only a few were mounted. Half of those didn’t have stirrups, and slid from their saddles to fight. They had been expecting to barge in on a group around the campfire, and were surprised to find an experienced, training band of soldiers who quickly ran after them, killing a dozen in the first minute. That caused the others to stop. One who was fighting on horseback, and doing well for him self, whistled and then threw down his sword. Stone recognized him from the battles with Kona.

“Captain, I surrender,” he shouted to Stone. “I think the others will as well.”

A ragged man on foot came up to him and started to yell: “I am the leader of this group, not you and your other horse fighters. I’ll teach you a lesson.” He started at the man with his sword raised. The man on the horse looked to the ground, where his sword lay. Just then an arrow whistled out of the north and went between the shoulder blades of the ragged man, who fell dead yards from the man on the horse.

“So you see we have artillery as well as swords,” Stone shouted. “Trooper, come forward. Any others who drop their weapons can join us for dinner. It is stew, but hearty.”

There was a rush of just over 30 men who came forward. The men hadn’t eaten in four days, and the smell of the food was what had led them to the camp.

After the men had eaten, or most of them had … some were on second and third helpings … Stone addressed the men. As he expected, most were soldiers of the Duke, and had turned to banditry to feed themselves after he had stopped paying them. Stone offered to let them to head on to Greenford, where they could get free meals for three days, and then take on honest work. Most of the men jumped at the offer: they were not lazy, and the chance of legal work, and a daily meal, was appealing.

In the morning the men were surprised to get an oatmeal breakfast before their march north to Greenford, starting off early and at a fast clip in hopes of getting to the town before the evening suppertime. The rest of the train headed south on their last day towards Sarn.

I’m going to try for a one a day week. I might miss a day along the way though: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 20 – Sarn

As the wagon train rolled into Sarn the next day at noon, Stone reflected that the streets of the town were not paved in gold. Instead it looked like they were paved in horse shit. Apparently no one was cleaning the streets any longer, and in a world where horse and oxen were the main means of transport, it showed. And the street the wagons came in on was also the main way out of town, so its heavy use showed.

Apart from the filthy streets, the town looked empty. Where Greenford and Greenwood were booming, Sarn looked like a ghost town. Empty buildings and unused businesses were the norm on the road into town. To her dismay, many of the businesses that Rayla had shopped at before now had boarded up windows.

As they came in, Barrykin, the miller’s man, pointed out his former employer’s place of business. The wagons stopped outside, pulling over to the side of the road: there were still loaded wagons piled with household possessions trying to leave town every few minutes.

As they entered the yard, Stone noticed unusual looking wagons sitting in a corner of the yard. He remembered seeing similar wagons before, with very wide wheels. He pulled up a tarp, and saw a brand on the wood of the tailgate. Lifting the tarp higher, he saw that a millstone was beneath. He dropped the tarp and Barrykin fastened it back, following Stone on foot.

Stone got off Doug and strolled over to the main house in front of the mill buildings and banged on the door. Finally a man came to the closed door and shouted past, unwilling to open up: “We have nothing. No grain came in this week. You have taken all our flour and grain. Nothing is left. Go away.”

“We are not who you think we are,” Stone shouted back. “Open up. We wish to do business.” The door opened a crack, and an old man looked out.

“Barrykin,” he said when his eyes lighted on his former employee, standing beside Stone. “You have returned.”

“Aye,” the man said. “And I may have brought your salvation. Let the Captain in. He is not a Duke’s man.”

“Well I hope not. They came yesterday and got nothing. We have had trouble just keeping enough hidden to make our own bread. They used to say ‘A miller’s family never goes hungry’. Well that isn’t the case in Sarn.”

“You have mill stones in those wagons,” Stone said. “We wish to buy them.”

“Buy? With a chit from the Duke that will never get redeemed? I have a pile of those already in my office,” the miller said.

“Your former man told you I am not a man of the Duke,” Stone said. “I will pay with gold coins. How many will I need?”

“Thirty, no 40,” the man said.

“I will pay 50 if I can have the wagons they sit in,” Stone said. “Do you have horses?”

“Not enough for those,” the miller said. “You will need four for each wagon, and spares beside. Best talk to Costrain at the auction house. He sells horses now.”

“Costrain?” Stone asked. “I know that name. Did he run the slave market in the past?”

“Aye, but when slaves were made free, he lost his stock. The Duke had a pile of horses and gave some to compensate for the slaves he had to free. No one else got compensation though. And Costrain bought the rest of the horses that came from the battles against Kona for a song. The Duke needed the gold more than horses to feed.”

“We will see him later then, perhaps after I visit the Duke,” Stone said. “You said you have some flour hidden away. How much? I’m buying, not taking. Two silvers a bag?”

“I think we can find five or six bags,” the miller said. “For ready coin?”

Rayla had come up, and she started counting gold coins. She dropped 50 gold and a small gold, worth 10 silver, into the miller’s hand as his eyes got wider and wider.

“There will be more if there are more than five bags,” she said. “Or we could trade: we have some vegetables and dried beef in the wagon.”

“We’ll trade,” a voice from behind said as a woman strode up from the back of the house. Seeing Rayla let her know that women could be involved in this business. “We haven’t had potatoes for so long, or beef. One can only live on bread for so long. The men will be glad of a good meal.”

“The men?” Stone asked. “Are they slaves or free?”

“They were slaves, but now are free,” the miller said. “Not that there is that much difference. I haven’t paid them for the past two months.”

“But you will now,” Stone stressed, looking at the gold Rayla had put into his hand.

The miller looked down and then consented. “Yes, I will pay them. But that means they will just run away north with the others.”

“Maybe not,” Stone said. “Do you have a supply of grain coming in to mill?”

“A bit,” the miller said. “Barely enough to keep the old stone busy. There was no need to install the new one, even if I still had the men to do so. The old cracked stone is working fine for the little product we get.”

“There might be more business coming in the next few weeks,” Stone said. “Who are your customers? Is there a bakery?”

“Aye, I had a baker who bought a lot from me in the past. None for the last few months though. Any bread or rolls he made were just confiscated by the tax men.”

“Have your men ship this flour to him, and tell him to use it to make buns. No charge, say it is a gift from the Captain. We have seen the people of this town, and they look hungry. He is to give the buns to the people. We hope to have a soup and stew kitchen set up tomorrow or the next day. He can send the rolls there.”

Rayla and the miller’s wife came back with potatoes, carrots, and turnips and a large slab of dried beef. They dropped it all in the miller’s kitchen, and Rayla came back, with a ‘Are you ready?’ look on her face. Stone nodded and they left, saying they would pick up the stones on the way out of town.

----------

The Duke of Sarn grimaced as he looked at his dinner guests. There was only 50, half of what he preferred. But things were bad, and no one seemed willing to travel to Sarn these days, for some reason. But the first course of the meal was being served, with a long line of serving men coming through the doors, each holding a silver platter. Wait … was it? Yes, there were eight serving women at the end of the line.

“Lord Chamberlain,” the Duke said in an unfriendly voice. There was an ugly, long red scar along the side of the Duke’s face. “What is the meaning of this? Women serving? Surely you know better.”

“Sorry Your Grace,” one of the guests said. “There is a shortage of serving men in the castle at this time. I mean, they have been flocking out of the castle these past few days, especially since the rations were cut for the servers.”

“Send troops out to arrest them and bring them back. They are still slaves. I only freed the people outside the palace,” the Duke snorted. “Get on it Captain Mitchell.”

“I’m sorry Your Grace,” the military man standing behind the Duke said. He had two scars, arrow wounds suffered from Rayla, one on each cheek. “But there are no more troops. I am the last one. When pays stopped, they grumbled. But when the food stopped, they never returned from their duties.”

“Hrumph,” the Duke said, turning back to his meal. He lifted the lid on the plate, and looked inside. “Whatever is this?”

“I believe it is porridge,” said a portly man, nearly as fat as the Duke. “Quite tasty … for porridge.”

“This is an outrage,” the Duke shouted, pushing the dish away. “Call the chef. I will get to the bottom of this. Porridge for starters at my table?” A server darted from the room.

Minutes later the chef appeared.

“What is the meaning of this? How dare you serve porridge for starters at my table,” the Duke shouted.

“I apologize,” the Chef said. “But it is not starters, but the entire meal. This is the only food in my kitchen.”

The Duke turned to the obese man. “You are in charge of procurement,” he accused. “Why is there no food?”

“There is not enough money in the treasury to buy food in the quantities we require,” the man said timidly. “For the past two months we have been sending soldiers out with the tax collectors, to encourage the people to contribute food in lieu of taxes. But of late there have been fewer and fewer of these men coming back, and no food.”

“But I am the Duke. I rule this duchy. How dare the people starve me in my own home. Am I to be relegated to eating horse food?” The Duke pushed the meal away again.

“I would eat that if I were you,” Stone said. He had been standing at the edge of the Great Hall through all of this. “You will not be getting anything else.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” the chef said.

“This is your fault,” the Duke snarled at Stone. “You made me free all the slaves, and that started this, as well as taking two of my villages from me.”

“And have you freed the slaves? I heard you claim that the serving men were still slaves a minute ago.”

“Well you can’t expect me to free the castle slaves. There are hundreds of them, I cannot afford to pay salaries to each of them.”

“Too bad,” Stone said. “It is clear you have been living beyond your means for some time: lavish dinners and huge armies. You taxed your people into poverty, and then demanded more and more. It is over. You are out of food, and probably out of money too. And all the servants in the castle are now free.”

“Lord Exchequer: is it true? Am I out of money?”

“There is about 50 gold in the treasury,” another noble reported.

“You won’t need that much to leave, I hope,” Stone said. “Where will you go?”

“Go? I mean to stay here.”

“And eat what? The oats from the stable will only provide a few more meals.”

The Duke took a spoonful of porridge. He was hungry, after all. He shuddered at the commonness of the taste, and pushed the bowl away again. “My sister married the Duke of Attrak years ago,” he said. “She will take me in. They have lavish dinners there,” he smiled, then frowned, “but I will just be a guest, not the host.”

“When can you leave?” Stone pressed.

“A few weeks,” the Duke dithered.

“That is a long time without food,” Stone suggested. “Perhaps you will want to leave tomorrow. I will allow you 10 gold for travelling expenses.”

“That is my money,” the Duke retorted. “And 10 gold will not last even a day to look after the entire court.” He waved his arm around the room.

“I don’t think all of these people will go with you. Will you accompany the Duke, Captain Mitchell?”

“Aye,” the soldier said. “I will go. There will be need of another experienced soldier in Attrak. I will accompany the Duke and his family on the trip.”

“I will not go,” a young man seated near the Duke said, standing. “I have watched you fritter away my inheritance for years, father. I will stay. This town is my home, and my friends live here.”

“Ronald, no!” said the portly woman next to the Duke. “You must come with us.”

“I am staying, if this man allows it.”

“You can stay, if you like. There is much to do in this town for those willing. You will not be Lord over all, but if you work, you will eat. The streets need cleaning for one thing.”

“No son of mine will shovel dung from the streets,” the Duke bellowed.

“I will,” the boy said. “It will be more than you have ever done for this town.”

“What gives you the right to take away my son, and my dukedom,” the Duke shouted at Stone.

“This,” Stone pulled Pate from her sheath. She started singing, although only Stone could hear. “She has tasted your blood once, and would dearly love some more. “Do you wish to fight for your duchy?”

The Duke went pale, and had to grab to edge of the table to stay erect. His hand reached up and flet the scar. “No. I will go. Tomorrow. Arrange things, Lord Chamberlain. Lord Chamberlain? Where is everyone going?”

“Fleeing a sinking ship, I warrant,” Stone said. “I will have my men prepare your carriage for the morn. Remember, the sooner you leave, the sooner you eat. There will be one baggage wagon.”

“I require 15 for all my goods,” the Duke said.

“You will get one, unless you have drivers for the others.”

“You, you and you,” the Duke pointed to various servers still in the room.

“I cannot drive a wagon, and won’t,” the first man said. The others nodded in agreement. “That man said we are free now.”

“One wagon,” Stone said. “The Captain will drive it for you. You will have to drive your carriage yourself.”

“Ronnie, you will come and drive the carriage,” the Duke begged.

“No father. I stay here.”

“You best go to your quarters and pack a few trunks for one wagon and whatever will fit in the carriage,” Stone warned. “I will send a patrol of six men with you for your protection from bandits. I suspect that bandits along the way won’t be happy to see you, for forcing them into that way of life.

The Duke hurriedly finished his porridge, and then went upstairs. Stone had sent soldiers to the rooms of all the others, and found that there were stashes of gold in most of the rooms occupied by the court officials. In total there were 300 golds. Apparently the Duke was not the only one draining the ducal treasury.

Stone took the money, other than 15 gold that he passed to Captain Mitchell, who would be in actual charge of the two wagons going south. If the Duke held the money he would probably waste it giving a banquet along the way. He also told Mitchell that the six soldiers would ensure that the Duke would not attempt to extort any ‘taxes’ from any of the towns or villages along the way. The additional five gold were to ensure that his men were fed.

Stone and his remaining men then headed off to the slave trader’s lot. He had met Costrain when he first came to Sarn, before the war with Kona. He had consigned several slaves who refused their freedom. It would be interesting to see how the man had adapted to having horses as livestock instead of people.

“Hello. I need to buy twelve horses. Large ones, for pulling wagons,” Stone asked the man. Each of the millstone wagons would need four horses, with four more to provide a team to spell the others off.

“I have some big ones,” Costrain said. “But not as big as the one you are riding.”

«Get mares, not geldings,» Doug insisted.

«We will take what he has,» Stone mentally replied.

«Damned eunuch horses,» Doug replied.

“So how has business been?” Stone asked the man after he sent a helper off to round up the horses. Apparently most of the horses were grazing on common land south of the city.

“Terrible,” the man said. “I enjoy working with horses more than my former stock, but business has been terrible. There is a glut of horses in town due to so many coming back from the war, but I got them cheap and they feed themselves in the common fields. But no one has any money. Will you be paying cash or barter?”

“Cash,” Stone said, and that caused the dealer to break out into a large smile.

“Good. Maybe I can get some real food tonight. I know a grocer who has some hidden away, but he will only part with it for cash. Horses of the size you want should cost a gold each, but with the market the way it is, I will sell the 12 for six gold.”

“Things are rough around here then?” Stone prompted.

“Yeah. I put down an old horse once a week for the meat. I have a saddler and a smith that join in, trading meals for their services and it usually lasts the week. We also make a stew up for the starving people in the neighborhood. It gives them a meal once a week. Keeps some of them alive. Things have to get better.”

“I think they will,” Stone said. “I know that the Duke is leaving tomorrow, so there should be no more over-taxation. Slowly business should return to normal.”

“That is a relief, but I wonder if I would be better off moving north. I have a bag of gold buried that would help me along.”

“Well, I can’t say so much for Greenford or Greenwood,” Stone said. “But I know that horses are in large demand up in Greenstone, the new town. There are people who are settling farms in the Greensward all the time, and they need horses. The town tries to give them one each to get started, but as they start getting crops in they will have the cash to buy a second. Pulling a plow with two horses is much more effective compared to a single horse.”

“I shall think of that,” Costrain said. “I want to stay here at least a little longer. If I can’t feed the hungry, I will feel bad.”

Stone immediately felt this was a good man, in spite of his former occupation. He scooped out several golds from his bag. “Here are 8 more gold, he said. With this you will cull 16 geldings over the next month, and continue to feed the people, but with a meal every day, if not two. People will help, in return for food. In fact, I would like to find some farmers with oats, so that an oatmeal breakfast. The Duke may consider that horse food, but starving people will be glad to have it.”

“I know of some farmers,” Costrain said. “The last few horses I sold were in trade for oats, which I later traded or fed to the horses. I might have enough left for one breakfast.”

Stone handed him another four gold. “I trust you to use it wisely, and provide a second meal a day for the people. Tell them you will only feed them for a month, and by the end of that time they will have to find jobs, or emigrate north. They might miss a meal or two travelling, but they will be fed in Greenwood and Greenford, and if they reach Greenstone they will be fed until they find work.”

One more chapter tomorrow, I hope, then I will break for a few days to let everyone catch up: Dawn.

Stone

Stone 21 – Coming Home

The trip north was slower than the one south, thanks to the two wagons carrying the millstones. Larger as well: there were many emigrants from Sarn heading north, and they were quite willing to travel at a slow pace, in return for protection against the bandits.

The first night on the road, Stone noticed that the Duke’s Chef was with them, and he had more or less taken over the making of the dinner, along with two others from the castle who worked with him. They prepared the meal, and then the Chef and another came to Stone and family, each bearing two plates.

The chef handed Stone and Rayla their plates, which had thin sliced beef, and several vegetables, along with two mounds of fluffy white stuff. But before they could eat, they heard a squeal of delight from Emily. Looking at her plate they found the same food, but arranged differently. There was only one heap of the white stuff, but two peas created eyes, and carrots made up whiskers and long ears.

“It is a bunny,” Emily squealed. “Look how pretty it is.”

Jason had a similar meal, but he merely smiled and then took a bite of the white stuff. “Oh wow, wow, wow,” he exclaimed. “It is delicious.”

At that the parents tried some. It was potatoes, but like no other potato they had ever eaten. It was creamy, with some kinds of spices in it. Rayla tried the vegetables, and they tasted almost like candy, fried in butter. All in all it was the best meal they had ever eaten. The tender beef nearly fell apart on their forks.

The Chef’s man had gone back to serve the rest of the train, who were also murmuring over the taste of the meal.

“That is wonderful food,” Stone told the Chef. “You are quite the cook.”

“It was a bit of a sample,” he replied. “I wondered if you need a good chef at your palace?”

Stone had to laugh. “I wouldn’t call our house a palace,” he said. “It is only four rooms, and not large ones at that. Only one is large enough for guests. I don’t think you could serve more than ten in there. I don’t do the lavish dinner thing that the old Duke did.”

The chef’s face fell. “I was hoping to get work with you in Greenstone.”

“Have you thought of a café?” Rayla asked.

“What is a café?”

“Well, there are two sorts. One is downtown, and merchants and artisans come in once or twice a day for a cup of choc. You get 100 people twice a day paying fourpence for choc, plus some lunches and dinners, and you have a nice business. The other sort can be anywhere. It is a destination café, and you would only serve dinners. It would be super fancy but the food you serve would attract those people in town who want a special night out. Charge several silvers for a meal, and even if you only get eight people a night you would make good money.”

“The latter seems interesting. May I ask you more questions about it?”

“Certainly,” Stone said. “May I ask if you have any funds?”

“Oh yes,” the man said. “I have over 50 gold hidden in one of my wagons.”

Stone held up the silver plate the meal had been served on. “And it seems you have some of the fixtures from the castle.”

“Yes. I was not paid for the past two months, so I felt it was fair to take the plate and goblets, as well as much of my kitchen pots and pans. I have three wagons full, although there has been a bit of spare space for walkers in the train to ride for a while.”

“How did you manage to accumulate 50 gold?” Stone asked, wondering if the Chef had been stealing from the treasury like so many others.

“I got a bonus of 25 gold for moving down from the Duke of Kona’s palace to Sarn,” he said. “And I was paid, until recently, a gold a month, which all went to my savings. That was 22 gold.”

“Kona? The place we had a war with?” Stone asked, ignoring the fact that 22 plus 25 did not equal 50. But if the chef had been dipping into the castle treasury, it was not as much as the other officials.

“Yes. I’m afraid that the war was because Sarn would not send me back north. Kona sent troops primarily to capture me. I’m sure they would have looted the town too, but they mainly wanted me.”

Stone just shook his head. Thousands died, and for what? Two Dukes squabbling over a cook. He pulled his mind back into the conversation. “I think you will have enough money. You could build a house, with a large dining room for your patrons. The kitchen would be as large as you need it. You will probably need storage if you have three wagons of goods. If you want you could build a residential area for yourself. And a stable for the horses and wagons of your customers.”

“That sounds doable,” the Chef said. “Would there be any business?”

“Well Stone and I would come in at least once a week,” Rayla said. “And people in town tend to mimic us, so I expect you will soon fill the place, depending how large you make it.”

Other people visited the family that night, usually to see if they should go to Greenstone or if they should attempt to find work in Greenford or Greenwood on the ways up north. One was a cartographer, and Stone urged him to go all the way.

“Can you draw me a map of the lands?” Stone asked the man. “Not a fancy one to hang on a wall, but a field chart that just shows the roads or paths between all the towns that Sarn once controlled. I need to visit all of these on a future trip, and a map would be useful. I know the Green Valley, but not the other towns.”

“I could draw a map of the south part of the duchy,” the man said. “I don’t know anywhere past Greenwood. But I can do the rest. And if I go to Greenstone, I will be able to learn that area, and map the entire duchy.”

“What is a fair price for that work?” Stone asked. “A gold?”

“Oh, no sir,” he said. “Ten silver would be ample. I will be able to sketch it while on the wagons, and do the fine work at our camps. I can have it done by the end of the trip.”

Arthur occasionally reported bandits in the area, so Stone and Doug went out on patrol regularly, and occasionally Rayla joined them. Arthur would spot small gangs of bandits and the patrols often surprised the men. To Pate’s dismay there was little killing: usually the promise of a meal would make the men surrender. The result is that the road north was much safer to travel in the future, and the people of the Green Valley were happy to have a leader who actually cared for them.

Jason begged to go out on the patrols, but Rayla firmly forbade it. She did take the boy on some of her hunting expeditions, which she considered less dangerous. Although one trip during the trip between Greenford and Greenwood proved the exception. Arthur spotted a boar, an animal Rayla had not yet shot. She discovered that it took five arrows directly into the head to bring down the animal. While Rayla and the two soldiers accompanying them were cleaning the downed animal, there was the sound of another animal tearing into the bush. The men grabbed swords, but Rayla’s bow would be useless against the animal while she was on foot.

The soldiers had given Jason a steel-headed pike when he begged for a weapon on the hunt. Rayla had started to teach him archery, but his thin arms were not strong enough to send an arrow far. But as the second boar approached, incensed at the death of its mate. Jason jumped from his horse and brought the point down and it caught into the thick hide of the animal above the neck. It caught, and pulled him off his horse, but his weight was enough that it pinned the animal to the ground, and the soldiers swords were used to finish the wounded animal off.

Rayla and Jason embraced, each certain that the other had just faced certain death. But when then foursome entered camp with all that pork and bacon behind their saddles, there was general rejoicing.

“Boars usually travel in pairs,” Stone remarked as he held his son, the hunter, on his lap.

“That would have been good to know six hours ago,” Rayla said dryly. She explained that the other boar was in the deep bush and Arthur had not seen it until it burst into the open. Both Stone and Rayla were uncertain if the pike attack was smart, or just very, very lucky, but everyone agreed that Jason was brave to attempt it. The young boy just glowed in the attention, and beamed when Stone said he was proven enough to carry a knife on his belt. Rayla didn’t agree, and there were arguments for the next week, usually after the boy had nicked himself with the blade. But he was allowed to keep wearing the knife, and in his dreams he fought wild animals and bandits alike with the small five-inch blade.

Emily was not jealous of her brother and all the attention he got. She enjoyed the bacon as much as anyone else on the train, which was so large that the meat was gone in two days, when they reached Greenwood. It was taking three days for each leg of the trip. The little girl made friends easily, and in both Greenford and Greenwood she had reunited with little ones she had played with on the trip down. As well, she had made friends with children emigrating north with their parents, and it became common for her to have one or the other of the girls ride with her in the caravan, where they would play for hours in the back with the dolls O’Breyne had carved for her during the rest periods.

Of course Rayla had to ask permission of the mothers of the girls to allow them to ride in the caravan, and more often then not the woman would agree to join Rayla, allowing the women to chat away on the otherwise boring trip.

Stone noticed that they were now in an area with the grasses flattened and significant amounts of cow droppings. It was clear that this is where the cattle herds had passed by, and sure enough, later that day they could be seen slowly grazing as they travelled. The dairy herd was still being milked twice a day, do they wouldn’t go dry, and most of the milk was converted into butter or cheese, in a travelling dairy that was set up twice a day. The chef was ecstatic to get hold of butter, in particular, and Rayla managed to get milk for the children: hers and the others in the train.

Stone slowed the train down even more, to keep pace with the herds. They were close enough to Greenstone that the delay would not be major. They came across an abandoned farm a little later, with spacious fields surrounding it. The farmer with the beef herd decided it would be a perfect location for his farm. The dairy farmer was unsure. “I really should locate closer to town,” he said. “The milk will be fresher when it is delivered.”

“I think there is an abandoned dairy farm a mile south of town, but I suspect that it is already been taken up by a resident,” Stone said.

They reached that farm several hours later, and the farmer inspected the barns. “It is perfect,” the farmer said. “Very clean. We could set up operations here.”

“But this is my home,” the resident said. “And I spent a lot of work cleaning up those stalls. Most of them had piles of bones to be removed.”

“Oh my,” the farmer said. “The slavers must have captured the old owners at milking time. The cows would have to go through a painful day or two as their milk dried up, and then later they must have starved to death in their stalls. We will have to disinfect the entire area. Where can I get vinegar: a lot of vinegar?”

“In town,” Stone said. “And what happened to all those bones.”

“I got lucky there,” the resident said. “There was a man starting a soap operation, and he and his men carted them away for soap-making.”

“Soap?” Rayla said. “We have soap now? I need to get some. These two little ones need a proper bath before the river gets too cold, and you do too, Mister. You have been getting pretty ripe lately.”

“We’ll get soap when we get to town, Rayla,” Stone said. “First we have to settle this matter.” He turned to the resident. “If you want, you can keep this house, and we will build a new one for the farmer. Or if you prefer, you can have a new house built for you, at the town’s cost. What type of work do you do?”

“I have made a bit of coin as a carpenter’s helper, and for a day I worked in the new saw mill, but the noise was too much for me. I have bad ears, and noise bothers them. The carpenter was not too happy when I told him to hammer quietly.”

The farmer looked up. “I may have the perfect job for you. I will need someone who knows the town to deliver milk each morning. The job will go from 4 a.m. to 8 a.m., and then I can find some quiet work for you in the dairy. Buttermaking is pretty quiet.”

“Then I will move to a new house, perhaps here on the property,” the resident said. “You can take the larger house, since you have a family.”

That settled, Stone and Rayla left the farmer and his new driver, and they headed into town. Like Greenwood and Greenford, the town showed many changes since they left. Most of the new buildings were built of sawn planks, a sign that the sawmill was in operation. Main Street had more buildings, and fewer tents. The tent that had been a schoolroom was moved back a block, and men were busily making two more classrooms in its place.

“School tomorrow,” Rayla told the children, with Jason groaning and Emily elated at being able to connect with her friends.

“Evening captain,” an approaching man said. After a moment Stone recognized him. It was the printer who he had convinced to move north. Apparently he was starting a weekly newspaper for the town, and had come out to get a story on their trip.

In the end, he got three stories. A small one was the wedding of Rayla and Stone: Stone felt that it would be good for the people of the town to know they were legal now. Rayla had to describe her dress: the reporter knew that the women readers would need to know. A second story covered some of the basics of the trip, and noting some of the people who had come north with them, including the cattlemen and the chef. But the little printer got most excited when it was mentioned that Jason had killed the boar, and he dug deeply for all the information he could about that experience. Finally he decided he had enough and nearly ran back to his printshop.

As I mentioned yesterday, I will not have another chapter for a few days. Look for the next installment on Monday: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 22 – Catching up

When they finally got back to their tiny house, Stone and family felt strange not being in the caravan. O’Breyne suggested that he live in the caravan until the next trip south, and Rayla quickly accepted his offer, telling him he was to eat in the house. She liked the idea of having a ready-made babysitter on hand, and the kids loved the old man who had told them stories each night around the campfire.

Fire was another problem. It was late fall, and the house was cold. Stone built a fire, lit it, and then the house slowly filled with smoke. O’Breyne was called on, and he found the flue switch, and once it was opened, the smoke started drawing up the chimney. Rayla opened both doors and two windows to clear the smoke from the house, so the fire was fighting a losing battle against the cold until she decided that the air was clear enough for the children, and closed the house back up.

The next morning Stone and Jason wandered over to their usual bakery, noting that another bakery had opened just down the street. The bakery seemed different: there were several tables and chairs set up and a woman, probably the baker’s wife, working the counter. Thus they were able to get their pastries.

“Do you want a drink as well,” the woman asked.

“Yes, a choc for me and a cocoa for the boy.” As he spoke Stone noticed a pile of densely printed sheets at the end of the counter.

“It is called a newssheet,” the woman said. “A penny to buy, or if you leave it in good condition, you can read it and put it back.”

“I’ll buy one,” Stone said.

“Good idea,” she said, “being as there are stories about you two in it. Although I think the story about the boy must be an exaggeration. Congratulations to you and the Missus.”

“Thank you,” Stone said, carrying the paper and the drinks to a table, where he sat and read the newssheet. It was only a single sheet of paper, printed on both sides in small type, then folded to make four pages. He quickly found the stories about the family. The wedding was shortest, then nearly a full column on their trip south, mostly accurate. Then there was the longer story about Jason and the boar.

“There’s my name,” Jason said. “And here, and here.” The boy could not read, but had learned all his letters from his mother during his caravan-schooling on the trip.

“I thought you didn’t think you needed to learn to read,” Stone chided him. “It’s different when the story is about you. Look at these letters. B-O-A-R. That spells boar, and that is in the story a lot.”

“I see one,” Jason said avidly. “And another. Look, the little word in front is the same in both places … and there, and there. What is it?”

“T-H-E,” Stone read. “The: so the two words say the boar.”

“Read it to me, Daddy,” Jason begged.

“No, I think I will let Rayla read it for you,” Stone said, “I will read the other stories for you though.”

Thus they were in the bakery for nearly an hour before getting pastries for the girls, as well as buns for lunch. They found a meat market open when the left, and also bought meat for the sandwiches.

“Mommy, look. I am in the paper,” Jason squealed when they got to the house, ignoring the pastries that Emily was much more interested in.”

Rayla scanned the story, and then sat down with a child on either side, and slowly read the story about Jason. Emily could recognize the letters, and was shown what her brother’s name looked like. But her name didn’t appear in that story, and was only printed once in each of the other two stories, so she settled back and just listened to Rayla read.

Jason, on the other hand, was intensely interested, and followed Rayla’s finger as she slowly read the story at a pace he could comprehend. He shouted his name, ‘boar’ and ‘the’ whenever it appeared in the story, impressing his mother. Stone just stood back and watched, and then a small idea started to gel in his mind. He said goodbye, and headed to the stable to gather Doug. They walked down River Street to where the new printer was located.

“Do you have more of those papers?” he asked the printer.

“Dozens and dozens,” the man replied, worried that the Captain was offended by something and was about to close down his little newssheet.

“I want to buy 50 more,” Stone said. “I will take them to the school and the classes can use them to learn to read. How much?”

“They are a penny each retail,” the printer said, “But I only charge the stores that carry them a ha’penny. But for the school? I think I can charge three penny a dozen and cover the costs of the paper and ink. The more people in town who can read, the better my business will be.”

“Smart man,” Stone said, “Give me 60, and plan on the same each week.”

Stone and Doug walked back to Main Street and the school, where he presented the sheets to the teacher. The man realized quickly that the idea was a good one. Reading a story, especially one about their local town, would be a great way to learn. And for the afternoon class that Jason was in, it would be especially interesting to learn from a story about a classmate.

A Stone got back on Doug, he noticed Carlson, a guard from the first slave train Stone liberated, now a valued member of the community, who was Stone’s second in command, patrolling the streets on his horse.

“Greetings Captain,” the man said, waving his cap. “Do you find the town much changed since you left?”

“Well, it is bigger, for one thing. And a lot more businesses,” Stone replied.

“Yes. Merchants and artisans have been streaming into town since you left. Some said they met you on the way, and you recommended they come up. We have put mostly industrial plants along the river: the glassblower, the papermaker, the butcher and the tanner.”

“They don’t just dump their waste in the river, do they?” an alarmed Stone asked.

“Yes, I think they are planning to,” Carlson said. “Don’t worry. They are located well below the water intake for the town.”

“But above the intakes for Greenwood and Greenford,” Stone pointed out. “Those towns will not be happy when our filth runs down to their communities.”

Now Carlson looked shocked. “We didn’t consider that. What should we do?”

“Is there much space between the buildings and the river? Let’s take a look.” The men had been walking their horses down River Street as they spoke. “Yes, there is enough land. Have each business build a lagoon behind their business. They can dump their waste there, and hopefully the filth will settle to the bottom. It will stink, but there are no homes along this street. Eventually the lagoon water from the top will run off into the river, but it will be much cleaner.”

“So we made a mistake grouping the plants along here,” Carlson said.

“No, not a mistake,” Stone relieved the man. “Zoning the industry all into one area is wise, just as long as we consider their waste. Tell me, is there enough water? The town is many times larger than it originally was. The lumber mill is running full tilt and soon the grist mill will be in operation.”

“Yes. We just have to keep the beaver dams cleared out. Hopefully your eagle will let us know when there are more to pull down.”

“Arthur just told Doug that there are three more out there. Those are pesky buggers, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Captain. We took out two dams last week, and it really boosted the water supply at the dam,” Carlson said. “We trapped four beaver, and the milliners were ecstatic to get the pelts. They say the fur is perfect for making hats.”

“There is about 200 acres up there of bogland flooded by the beavers. Once we drain that out, it will be prime land. Let’s put up 20-acre farms in that area. The soil will be perfect for growing vegetables, and will help feed the town next summer. Now tell me how we are doing for money. I brought back 100 gold from Sarn.”

“That is more Euler’s area than mine,” Carlson said. “There he is, headed for his office.”

“Euler,” Stone called out to the man, and they rode up to him. “Can you tell how the town finances are?”

The man frowned. “Cash is flowing through the town nicely now, and the start of the grist mill will put some more men on salaries. But the town resources are dwindling, and we seem to hire more and more people. There are two teachers, and we will soon need a third, the healers, street sweepers, stable workers, soldiers, and last week we started four men working the well, pumping water through the day. We had fights breaking out over the well, and it seemed smart to hire men to pump for the people, rather than station soldiers there full time to quell arguments. It works well. There are two troughs, one for horses, and another that the people just dip their pails in to get water. It is faster than hauling your water up from the well, and there are no arguments over who’s turn is next.”

“That sounds good,” Stone said. “But money? How much is left?”

“We have enough to get us to December,” Euler said. “After that we will have to levy taxes.”

Stone frowned. “I really didn’t want to tax the people until next year. I got 100 gold down in Sarn. Will that help?”

“It will delay our running out until February,” Euler estimated.

“Well, I guess we will have to hope another big slave train comes through, although if that happens there will be a lot of costs getting the new citizens settled in. Let’s be careful with our money till then.”

It was noontime when Carlson had finished reporting on the town, and Stone congratulated him for his good work, and then went home to lunch. Rayla and Jason had spent the entire morning going through the newspaper, and the boy seemed on the verge of learning to read. Stone found Emily playing outside with some friends and scooped her up onto Doug to ride home. Her friends oohed and aahed at seeing her on the big horse as she waved to them.

O’Breyne was busy puttering around the house, and got up. “Take your horse, Captain?” he offered.

“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” Stone said. “Doug can look after himself in most ways. Just make sure there is water in the trough and oats in the feedbag. If you try to tie him up, he will take your arm off.”

“Mommy,” Emily squealed as she ran to hug Rayla, who she had left just an hour before when she got tired of the reading lesson. “Daddy let me ride Doug.”

Emily went to the kitchen and made sandwiches for the family from the goods Stone had bought in the morning. “Arthur says you want beaver hunted,” she said.

“Yes, if you could take the hunters out this afternoon after you take Emily to school. It is a shame we have to kill them, but they will just continue to build new dams if we don’t. But that land is too valuable, and we need the water as well. I will take Jason to school.”

“I found out that there is a place making paint on River Road,” Stone continued. “I think O’Breyne will paint for you, if you pick out the colors. The wood will last longer if it is painted. I suggest the main color be white, which is cheaper, and you can choose the color of the trim: they have red, blue, green, and grey, I think.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” Rayla said. “O’Breyne has just been idling along. He is making plans for both flower and vegetable beds in the spring, but there is not a lot he can do this time of the year, other than to split firewood. He has cleared the woodlot behind the house so it is safe for Jason and his friends to play in there.”

“Not Emily?”

“No, her friends prefer playing in sand. O’Breyne says tomorrow he will build a sandbox, and get a load of sand from the river for it.”

“Have him get the sand from right in front of the dam,” Stone warned. “It will be cleaner there than further downriver.”

Rayla froze mid-bite of her sandwich. Arthur says there are mounted men approaching from the east. About 20, looking like soldiers. They are a couple of days out. No slaves and only one supply wagon.”

Stone also looked concerned, and then eased up. “With only one wagon they won’t be traders, and they aren’t slavers. I wonder what they are coming for? We will take the soldiers out, maybe 30 of them,” Stone said. “We pay them, we should get some work out of them. I’ll talk to Sgt. Pothman after I take Jason to school.”

“Do I have to go to school?” the boy complained. “I spent the whole day reading with Momma.”

“Yes you do,” Stone said. “You will probably be ahead of the others, and can help them catch up. Plus all the boys will want to know how you killed a boar, won’t they?”

“I guess so,” Jason said.

That was a nice little break for me. There will be another Chapter tomorrow; it is almost done. I am aiming for four this week: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 23 – Dragons

“Dragons,” Granger spat out when Stone and Rayla approached him after his storytelling session. “There are no dragons in the Green valley.”

“Anywhere else?” Stone prodded.

“Well, there are stories of dragons being seen in the southern lands. They only appear for a second or two. There must be more than one, because the reports say that they are colored Red, Blue, Silver, Gold or Green. Some say they are invisible, and they capture cattle from the fields, or burn barns and houses. People can’t explain how fire could appear from the sky except for invisible dragons. But the never come up here, if they even exist.”

“Thank you,” Stone said.

“Would you like dragon stories?” Granger said. “I don’t know any, but if you give me a few days I could make some up.”

“No thank you,” Rayla said. “The stories would only terrify small children … and others.” She glanced at Stone as she said the last.”

O’Breyne had taken the children home, and the couple followed, taking over childcare from the old wagoneer.

The next morning Stone and Jason walked into town. The walks each morning were a good bonding experience for the man and boy, who talked of many things he would not say in front of Rayla and his sister.

“Let’s try the new bakery,” Stone said, so they dropped in there. Jason was disappointed to see that they only had buns and bread, no cookies or pastries. One thing Stone was happy to see were meat pies, and he bought a sack that would do for supper.

To please Jason, Stone also went to the other bakery, which was starting to become a bit of a café. There were no tables free, and when people tried to stand and let the Captain have their spot, he waved them back. “We are just getting some pastries for breakfast, and will take them home to eat,” Stone said. Then he bought four pastries, and four tarts for dessert for lunch or supper.

They didn’t get far towards home before Jason begged to get his pastry to eat on the way. There was little talking as he worked through the treat.

Stone found Sgt. Pothman at the house. “I have arranged for a troop of men: 30 you said. When do we leave?”

“Where are the incoming soldiers Arthur spotted,” Stone asked Rayla, who got a blank look on her face as she communicated with the eagle.

“There are 22, not 20,” she said. “They stopped at one of the outlying farms overnight, and left recently. They are about 6 hours from town at the rate they are riding. The family on the farm waved to the men as they left, so apparently they met under good terms. Wait! Arthur says that the farmer is hitching up a wagon.”

Stone pondered the news for a moment, and then worked it out. “They must have boarded with the family overnight, probably staying in the barn. The family must have fed them, or loaned them cookware to make their dinners. The troop paid the farmer, and he has now decided to come to town for supplies, now that he has some cash. He may bring some goods to sell, too.”

He turned to the Sgt.: “Lets leave in an hour. We have no wagon, so we can ride three hours out as they make two hours towards us. We will be far enough from town in case there are problems, but I don’t think there will be.”

The sergeant left to organize his men, and Stone went in to have breakfast. Rayla had bought a half-dozen eggs from a farm wife the day prior, so they had eggs on rolls for breakfast. Jason suggested that it would be nice to have bacon with them, but when Rayla suggested that they go boar hunting, he decided the eggs alone were good.

Stone rode Doug out on the east road. Jason begged to come, but Rayla forbid it, and Stone didn’t argue. They wanted to make an impression on the visitors, and a six-year-old boy would not help. There was one non-soldier there as it was: the town cartographer begged to come as a chance to learn more about the Greenswarth.

They met the oncoming troop about where Stone had estimated they would, and the soldiers there lined up across the road, with most of the soldiers dismounting, and drawing weapons.

“Welcome to the Green Valley, Stone shouted out. Put away your weapons. We mean you no harm.”

There were still two men mounted, and one shouted back. The foot soldiers sheathed their swords and went back to their horses. Their two leaders trotted up close to Stone and his formidable troop, who had not pulled out swords.

“Are you from the town of Greenstone?” the captain of the visitors asked.

“Aye. What is your purpose in sending an armed force here?” Stone asked.

“We felt that 22 would not be overly threatening. We seek friendship, not battle. Traders from your town have told us that your town has a new and improved way of fighting. We would like to learn it. For defensive purposes only: the Duchy to our east has been hinting that they would like to attack.”

“Why is that?” Stone said. “Greed or something else.”

“Greed is a factor,” the captain said. “But Orono, our duchy, banned slavery 35 years ago, when the current Duke’s father took over. Now that his son has taken over, our enemies feel the time is ripe to threaten us.”

“So you have no slaves?”

“Very few. Most accepted their freedom, but a few did not wish to be free. But most of those have died off. I cannot promise there are no slaves in the duchy, but none among younger people. Children of slaves are immediately free.”

Stone was impressed that the duchy had many of the rules that his lands did. “We fight on horseback, with longer swords,” he said. “You can see our saddles and weapons. They devastate foot soldiers. If you want, we will make some saddles and stirrups for your men, and train them. We will charge 45 gold, 50 if you also want a new, longer sword.”

“I will have to speak to the duke about this,” the captain said. “The reason our numbers are so small is that we could not leave the duchy undefended. I would hope that you could train 100 men for us, 20 at a time. Those could train other troops, and our smiths and saddlers could equip them.”

“If you fear for your duchy now,” Stone said, “why not take these 30 of our men with you. Leave your 20 with us, and we will begin training them. If your lord approves our price, which is not negotiable, then those 20 can leave in three weeks, fully trained and with saddles and swords and another 20 can come. Note that my 30 men will be worth 100 of your trained soldiers, and 200 militia.”

“That sounds fair,” the captain said. “We welcome your support. When they arrive, we can send the second 20 to you, with the gold.”

“I also want to send this scholar with you,” Stone said. “His skill is in the drawing of maps. He is not a spy, and he will draw a map for your lord showing all the lands and roads in the Green Valley, in return for making a map of your lands for me.”

After the two troops switched position, with Stone ordering his men to obey the captain as they would him, Stone and the visitors headed back to Greenstone. As they did, Stone made calculations. The smiths only charge a half gold to make stirrups, and three gold for a good sword. The saddler asked for a gold for a saddle, so there would be over 40 gold profit from each trooper, and 800 for a group of 20. There would be no cost for training the men: with 30 men gone, the 20 coming in would be even fewer to feed. And finally 800 times 5 groups would mean 4000 gold for the town coffers: enough to end the town money worries. If the other duke would afford the price, that is.”

Back in town Stone left Pothman to organize the training, while he went to the saddler and smiths to get saddles and weapons ordered. Both groups were eager to get the business at those prices, and started to work immediately, promising five saddles in two days, and the other 15 in a week. The swords would take longer, but the visitors would be using wooden sticks for training anyway. It would only take a day of training with swords, to get used to the greater weight. Pothman had suggested that the first week of training would be mainly horsemanship, and said they could get five saddles out of the armory, meaning half the trainees could ride with stirrups, while the other half would use their old saddles, quickly learning the differences. In the second and third weeks they would learn more specialized ways to fight on horseback with stirrups.

Back at the house, Stone was surprised to see O’Breyne painting the house white. Rayla was busy as well; painting the door, window, and eaves red. The kids were in school or daycare.

“Do you like?” Rayla said. “The paint makers gave us a deal on the paint. They know that when people see how pretty our house looks, others will want to paint their own.”

“It is pretty already,” Stone said. “But now it will really stand out. I hope others won’t choose the same colors.”

“They won’t,” Rayla said. “I said the same to the paintmakers, and they promised to not sell any more red for two weeks. They also have blue, green, yellow, brown, and black. Hopefully people will all choose different colors for trim. Most will opt for white as the main color, because that is the cheapest color. Red is most expensive, but we got it at the same price as white, as part of our deal.”

“When will you finish?” Stone asked.

“I want this side done before the kids come home from school,” she said. “And if you get off that big beast and lend a hand, we might finish the whole place by dark. You do the eaves – I don’t like being up so high.”

The house was finished on one side when they heard Emily’s squeals as she saw the new look as Jason led her home. Also, towns people were stopping by, many of them immediately going to the paint factory after they left. Rayla spent more time talking to neighbors then painting after Stone started, but they still had the entire house completed an hour before the evening meal, which was meat pies, a welcome change from stew at the communal dinner.

That night Stone woke in a sweat. Rayla notice immediately: “What happened?”

“It was the nightmare again. The same, but different,” Stone said.

“But you are not wailing,” Rayla pointed out.

“I promised Emily I would never make that sound again. But I am wailing inside. We all died again. It was different this time. I didn’t kill the kids or you. At least not intentionally. But when I killed the dragon, the burst of fire baked us all. You, the kids, Doug. I don’t know if Arthur died this time. If he did I didn’t see him fall. But I rose up like a spirit, and the bodies of all I loved, and my own body, were laying there dead. It was just as horrible as before.”

“But different,” Rayla said. “I bet this is because we were talking about Dragons with Granger today.”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean I had the first nightmare without knowing anything about them.” He cuddled into Rayla for a few minutes until his heartbeat returned to normal. Then he got up and left the room for a minute. When he came back he cuddled into his wife again. “I had to see the kids,” he explained. “I gave them all a kiss. They are sleeping so peacefully. It calmed me down.”

That was not the last time the nightmare occurred. About once every week for the next two years it struck. Each time was a little different. The third occurrence, Rayla and the kids moved away when the dragon struck, and only Doug and Stone died. In the other times, Stone attacked in different ways, always dying. Eventually he realized that he was learning. It was like a video game he had played as a teenager. You kept getting killed, but eventually you learned how to defeat the dragon.

In Stone’s case, he learned once when he attacked the dragon from the rear, cutting into its tail. Fire spewed out, but Doug was able to dodge it, and they both lived, although badly burned. From that point on it was easier. Totally slicing the tail off in the right way made the fire escape away from them, and they were able to get away without burns. From then on, it was easy to kill the dragon safely.

One time he came back to the dead dragon, and saw the girl, now a withered out corpse that looked hundreds of years old. He came back quicker in later times, and was able to see her before she died. All she said was ‘thank you,’

Another time he waited at the dragon too long, and people from the village came out and surrounded him. They called him St. George and lavished gifts on him. A later time, they offered him their daughters, wanting him to impregnate him. When Rayla heard that story she asked: “And did you?”

“God no,” Stone said. “They were all young girls. I know you look 18, but these were younger, some way younger: closer to Jason’s age. I guess they were all menstruating, but girls that young: yuck.”

“St. George?” she said. “I think I have a new bedroom name for you. ‘Impale me St. George,” she giggled.

“Wait,” Stone said. “There is a religion in the old world that promises a martyr 70 virgins in heaven. I wonder if there were 70 of them? There were a lot of them.”

“That might be too much for even you,” Rayla teased. “It would take over a month to get through them, even if you took two a night.”

“You are the only one I want,” Stone said. “I think the next time I have that dream, I will run away before the people come.”

There will be another chapter tomorrow or the following day: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 24 – The Council

One day soon after they returned to Greenstone, Stone and Jason were making their morning trip to the bakeries, when a whimpering sound caught both their attention. They were in front of the tent where Jason and Emily had lived before Rayla and Stone rescued them. The whimpering came again. Jason crawled into the cubby he and Emily had lived in, and let out a cry of delight.

“It is a dog,” he said. “It used to come and sleep with us. It made the bed warmer. I didn’t know she was having babies.” The boy crawled back out, holding a small pup that Stone estimated was less than a week old.

“Put it back before its Momma gets upset,” Stone said. “Keep making friends while I get a box from the bakery. Stone darted off, and soon returned with a small wooden box he borrowed. There were several cloth flour sacks in it. Over the next few minutes, Jason handed out the puppies, and Stone laid them in the box. When the boy was moving the last puppy, the mother got up to see where her pups were going, and Stone lifted her into the box.

“I think we will have to forgo sweets today, and take these back to the house,” Stone said, carrying the box. “Are you going to put that one in too?”

“No, I want to carry him,” Jason said, cuddling the pup to his chest.

“Okay, as long as his Momma doesn’t mind,” Stone said. “Let’s hope your Momma doesn’t mind.”

“Seven dogs?” Rayla said. “What were you thinking? One dog would be nice, but seven?”

“They are newborns,” Stone said. “They have to stay with the mother for a few months. When they are weaned, we will give most of them away. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” Rayla said, tearing up a bit. “In the old place I had a dog – just a cur. These look like German Shepherds. It was the only friend I had. I miss him.”

She bustled about, and got a saucer of milk for the mother, and then put a slice of venison jerky into the milk to soften. The kids, who had each been cuddling a pup, were amazed to see the other four pups move to their mother and start to feed.”

“Put the pups in with the Momma,” Rayla said. “They need to get breakfast too.”

The kids spent the entire morning with the dogs, who were getting used to being handled. The kids’ friends, starting with Emily’s little blonde friend, Lillibet, came to see why they weren’t at the play area, and all fell in love with the pups. All claimed they wanted one, but Rayla insisted that their parents would have to come by to claim one. That evening there were a steady stream of families coming to see, and Rayla could have gotten rid of 12 pups, instead of the five she took names for. The other parents, and especially their children, left disappointed. Lillibet was not one of those: her father came early and let his daughter and son choose a pup. He owned the sawmill, and envisioned the dog as an adult, patrolling his business.

But for the next seven weeks, all seven dogs were kept in the box in Jason’s room. He took care of cleaning it and feeding the mother, and then the pups as they were weaned. He kept the pup he had carried home as his own. The mother dog was designated as Emily’s, but Stone soon noticed that it was Rayla who the dog came to when it wanted a cuddle.

---------

When the family had returned from the trip to Sarn, Stone had decided to follow in the steps of the other towns, and form a town council. He, Euler, and Carlson sat down and drafted up the ground rules for the body, which Stone would appoint initially, and then would be elected annually.

There would be 14 on the council. Stone would be Mayor, and Carlson would be Reeve, the person who filled in when the mayor was absent. In Greenstone this would be an important position, because the Captain still planned on travelling to the other villages three times a year. These would be longer trips, because he wanted to visit the other villages that Sarn had once ruled.

The other 12 spots on the initial appointed council would consist of three industrial reps, three farmers, three shopkeepers, and three women. Carlson and Euler were confused when Stone suggested this: why would women care about governing when men could do it. But Stone insisted, saying that a smart woman often saw things in a different light. The two bachelors agreed: it was Stone’s council. Stone said the council would rule until the Ides of November, several months away. At that time something called an election would be held, and all the adults in the town would vote, either returning the members, or voting in new ones.

At the first meeting of the council, held in the schoolroom, both Euler and Stone explained the duties of the council. It was to be an unpaid position, although a meal would be served, catered by the Duke of Sarn’s former chef, who was building his restaurant at the time. There were two people taking notes at the meeting: Euler and, in a far corner, the printer of the newssheet.

“Why is he here?” one of the council objected. “I don’t want my words to appear in that paper.”

“That is precisely why he is here,” Stone explained. “I invited him, and the fact that our words may appear in the newssheets will make us think a moment before we speak, knowing that all the town will know what we say. It also prevents misuse of the town funds. If any person conspires to get hold of that money, the entire town will know of it by the next Tuesday.”

“One thing I want to point out is that no councilor should discuss, or vote on any matter that will result in them receiving town money, or any other benefit. This is called conflict of interest, when your personal interest might be at odds with the interest of the town. And your spouse or children should not gain by your actions as a councilor.”

As the meeting went on, it became apparent that the council was split nearly evenly in two camps. One wanted to conserve the town cash reserves, and delay as long as possible the period before taxation was necessary, and the other was more open to spending money that would benefit the town. One of the former group spoke after Euler had read out the town accounts of the past month: “Why do we have so many people on the town payroll,” the man said. “There seems to be near a hundred of them. Can we not cut back?”

“Where would you like to cut back?” Stone asked. “The biggest numbers are the soldiers. We could let them all go, and they would probably turn to banditry, if the situation in Sarn is repeated here. And if the slave trade resumes, slavers might come to your home or business and capture you as slaves if there are no soldiers to protect us.”

“Or the healers. You run the coal mines, don’t you Rooney? I think you have had many accidents up there that the healers have helped with at no cost to you. Would you have the town let the healers go, and have them charge for their healing? That might have meant many gold in bills for their services. And we have teachers: I know you don’t read, but I think your children are enrolled. They will be reading you the story about this meeting in the newssheet. Then there are the men who clean the streets. Do we let them go, and see our streets start to pile up with manure? I saw that in Sarn, and it is not a pretty sight. To the eyes or the nose.”

The man agreed that no staff was being paid for by the town that was not essential. Stone then offered a carrot: “But what Mr. Rooney asked is important for the town. If there had been surplus staff, and he could have identified it, the town would save money.”

Rooney objected again later, when some of the progressive camp suggested that the town should pave the main street using some of the surplus funds the town had. “Greenwood has cobble stones,” a man said, “If we want to be the premiere town in the valley, we should also have paved streets.”

“You cannot discuss that,” Rooney said. “It would be a conflict of interest if you vote. You own a bakery on that street.”

Stone interjected. “Again, I thank you for thinking of this, Mr. Rooney. But I rule that the paving of the street would benefit the entire town, not just the merchants. But I would like to suggest that we ask the merchants to pay a portion of what will improve their property. Ten percent is probably what the first tax rate will be. Mr. Euler has worked it out, and that amount would cover the current town costs. After all, no money is going to spendthrift Dukes. If more than half of the merchants agree to start paying the taxes early, then we can have work done on their street.”

“Ten percent is not much tax,” Rooney said. He had paid over 80% to the Duke in Sarn before moving north to start the coalmines. In the end the council split 6-6 on whether to pave. Carlson voted in favor so the motion passed.

At that point, the chef and his staff started bringing in plates of food so the council could eat.

“Chef,” Stone said while the others were eating with expressions of delight. “I miscounted, and missed our reporter. Is there enough for another plate, or should I give him mine.”

“No, there is more. My staff will eat the leftovers, and one will fetch another plate,” the Chef said, flicking a finger so one of his staff would go make another plate.

That plate was presented, and not long after the caterers gathered up the dishes, usually wiped clean with bread. The men and women sat back in satisfaction over the best meal they had ever had.

“I was thinking this council thing was a crock,” Rooney said. “I mean who ever heard of women governing a town. But if there are meals like this each week, then I will probably seek to serve again next year.”

“You may run again,” Stone said. “We have about eight weeks until the Ides of November, when Euler plans to run elections. I will run again for mayor in the next year, although I will not run the following year. So some of you can think about my position after that, although I think that the experience Carlson has gotten will make him the ideal successor. Next spring, summer, and fall I will be making trips to visit the other towns, and not just Sarn, Greenford and Greenwood. There are four other towns that Sarn once taxed, and I have sent soldiers to each to them to maintain order. I want to visit them and see if the people wish to continue to be affiliated with us. After all, they have not had the benefit of no taxes, like we have.”

“How does this election work?” Rooney asked.

“Every man and woman in the town will vote. They will vote for 12 councilors, the reeve and the mayor, assuming that there is a contest in each case. If only one person runs, he or she will be acclaimed,” Euler said.

“Even women?” Rooney said. “Does that mean that a woman might be mayor?”

“Of course.” Euler replied. “We have three ladies on the council now. One or more may run for mayor.”

“They wouldn’t win,” Rooney said. “No man would vote for a woman.”

“No, but a woman may, and if there are two or three men running, the woman might get most votes.”

“Preposterous,” Rooney said. “We must immediately ban women from this council, and from voting. I so move.”

After a moment there was a seconder, and Stone went round the table. One of the women spoke eloquently on the benefits of women on council, and it seemed that she swayed some of the men. In the end the vote was 10-2 in favor of not banning women.”

After this, there was no new business on the agenda, and Stone instead went round the table, asking the council members if they could suggest new business to be discussed at the next meeting. The men went through fairly quickly, with most making no suggestions. Stone called on the woman who had spoken first, and she had a long list of suggestions.

“I would like to see sidewalks, outside the stores on main street,” she said. “There are planks there, which are fine for men and boys, but the women and girls get their dresses soiled when it is dusty, and absolutely ruined when it is muddy. A sidewalk wide enough for two ladies to pass would be a boon for us. It can be done when the street is being paved.” She also presented another half dozen ideas taking up nearly a half hour.

“And the water trough,” another lady spoke, emboldened by the first. “It needs to be drained and cleaned out every week. I don’t think it has been cleaned since it was opened. It is a blessing not to have to pump water, but lately the water has been a bit muddy. We are not like the horses, you know.”

“I will not put that on the next agenda, with your permission,” Euler asked Stone. “I will talk to the pump men tonight, and have them make a daily cleaning of the trough part of their duties. They may stop pumping a bit early to accommodate.”

“Do it,” Stone said. “If there is no more business then we will adjourn to meet again next week.”

After the meeting Stone and Euler waited in the room. Stone started by noting he had an item for the next meeting: he wanted a Marriage Officiant named.

“It is just too many for me,” Stone said. “Rayla likes doing it, but I find it a bore. I guess it is something women prefer.”

“Well,” Euler said. “There are 140 couples scheduled for the coming week. And when I have been booking them I charged each couple a six-pence. I was thinking about the dwindling treasury, and thought even that little bit would help. I mean, who doesn’t have six-pence to get married. Of course, if the soldiers from Orono come in, then we will be okay, but that still isn’t confirmed, is it?”

“No, but I think that young captain will sway his duke,” Stone said.

“There is something else I have done,” the man confessed. “I have opened a separate account for you personally. Up to now you have just given money to the town. You take no salary as mayor, and have paid huge amounts of gold to the town. When you brought back 800 gold from your last trip I only added 720 gold to the town accounts, but put the other 80 in an account for yourself. And I think you should also get 10 percent of any money that comes of the training scheme, which was largely your initiative. If all 5000 comes in, that will be 500 gold.”

“That sounds a bit much,” Stone said. “I do have a family to look after, and a wagoneer to pay, but perhaps five percent will do.”

“Why don’t we let the council decide next week,” Euler suggested.

At the end of three week the initial group of soldiers were trained and another group from Orono came in for training, bringing a supply wagon that contained 2000 gold, payment for the first 20 troops and the 20 coming in. Three weeks later, a larger group arrived: 20 from Orono and the 30 Greenstone troops. Apparently there had been an attack from BrokenTree Duchy. Over 2000 invaders arrived, and were met by 1000 Orono soldiers, 2000 militia, and the 30 from Greenstone and the first 20 Orono soldiers trained at Greenstone. The 50 mounted troops turned the battle, fighting on horseback to the amazement of the BrokenTree invaders. They quickly cut through the attackers, and left the remaining Orono troops to mop up.

The Duke of Orono, after hearing details of the battle, quickly decided to pay the extra 3000 gold to train the rest of his men. Mere gold was nothing compared to the security of his realm.

Over the term of the training, Orono and Green Valley made a peace treaty, and when BrokenTree broke the treaty and attacked again, soldiers who had finished their training repelled them. It was a major victory, and the BrokenTree citizens rebelled and ousted their duke, joining Orono. Slavery was banned in the new South Orono, and slowly the people adjusted to their new duchy.

Sorry for the delay: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 25 – Things progress

After the next council meeting, Rayla was appointed Marriage Officiant, and Euler was named Marriage Registrar. The Officiant would get 5 pence for the ceremony, giving her over a gold for each week, as long as the marriage list stayed at 50. She was ecstatic, having money of her own. And Stone was happy that he was given the 10 percent from his trip south. Most of the council thought he had kept it all. So they graciously accepted a commission of five percent on the Orono deal.

Next up came the elections, on the Ides of November. Stone was unopposed, and was acclaimed as mayor. Carlson ran against Rooney, who wanted to be mayor when Stone stepped down. He was slaughtered, getting just 20 percent of the vote. There were five women on the new council, including all three from the prior year. The other seven men elected also had been returned. Rooney was upset when he learned that losing as Reeve left him off the council entirely.

In the new term the council meetings moved to Chef’s new restaurant. He reserved one of the rear rooms for them. The restaurant started to do a booming business. All the councilors had raved about his food, and many brought their spouses to try it: as did many of the other employed people in the town. Rayla and Stone came once a week for ‘date night’ while others only came once a month. But the place was so packed it needed needed reservations for Friday and Saturday nights, and was always at least half full on other nights. Stone suggested something called ‘Sunday Brunch’, and Chef had two full sittings each Sunday. Monday was the off day for the business.

The winter was not a severe one, nor long, and the farmers looked forward to getting a good crop in the following year. Those who ran out of food came into town for the communal suppers, still running, but with far fewer people needing the service. Most new immigrants used the suppers for the first week or two, until they got a job in the booming town, and a first pay. Soon it was time for the spring trip south for Rayla and Stone, and their kids. The caravan had been painted over the winter by O’Breyne, and now was bright blue and yellow. Stone thought it looked a little gaudy, but Emily and Jason loved it, and Rayla had approved the color palette, so he accepted it.

The trip south this time would visit all seven towns and villages. Greenwood and Greenford were first, as always, then Sarn, which had now been on its own for a half year. Then there were the new towns: to the east were Petersville and Lakeport, and then west along the lake to Westport, before heading east back through Golden to Sarn and the trip north.

They took eight wagons and 24 soldiers, along with the caravan. The wagons were full of the trade goods that Greenstone merchants had created over the winter, slates, granite slabs, coal and coke, and lumber. The new gristmill had no flour to spare, and the bakers had asked for more to be brought north until the next crop came in during the fall.

There were also other orders for goods to be brought back. For once sawn lumber was not one, but the seamstresses insisted on a wagon full of cloth bolts, and painters were in need of certain goods to make their dyes. One thing in dire need was coin. There was enough gold in town, but a shortage of smaller coins, especially coppers. More silvers were also needed.

The trips to Greenwood and Greenford allowed the family to meet up with old friends, and Stone decided to have a meeting in each town in a special town council meeting. It allowed the town to give an overview of their progress, and for Stone to make his points to the council: particularly that he only intended to spend another year in control. Eventually the councils decided that when he was gone, each town would send one member to represent it in a new parliament in Greenstone, which would have control of the army.

The trip to Sarn was enlightening. The town still was far from what it had once been, but there were signs that it was coming back. A large inn was built on the River Road, and Stone was surprised to find that Ronald, the former Duke’s son, was owner and barkeep. He was clearly doing well, but still was holding community suppers for those people who had yet to find employment in the recovering town.

A big surprise was that Sarn had changed its name, and was now called Three Rivers. The Green River flowed into the Maniflow River in the town, and thus they decided they were the town on the three rivers, counting both ends of the Maniflow.

The lower stretch of the Maniflow flowed into Great Wolf Lake at Lakeport. Petersville was a town halfway between Three Rivers and Lakeport. It had a town council, and Stone met with them and they agreed to join the confederation of towns, mainly for defensive purposes. Three days later the caravan was on its way to Lakeport. This community also joined the confederation, but Stone had an ulterior motive in visiting the town. He spent considerable time at the docks, visiting the ships that travelled across the lake, determining fares and schedules.

Once they left Lakeport the caravan headed along the lakeshore in a long trek that involved camping out five straight nights before coming to Westport. Again, Stone spent time at the docks, and purchased many spices and specialty items that had been traded across the lake. These goods would sell well in Green Valley.

After a few days the caravan headed back towards the former Sarn. Part way along, near where the map said Golden was located, a single trading wagon was parked near the road.

Stone rode over and hailed the merchant: “Can you tell me how far it is to Golden?”

“You are pretty much in it,” the man said. “There is no downtown like other communities. There is the miners hall down that-a-way, and the assayer next to it. This-a-way is the mint. No stores. Several of us trade from Wesport and parks here at the road fer a day or so. The miners mostly live in tents near their claim. Dunno where you gonna put a big train like the one you got.”

“A mint?” Stone asked.

“Yep: you knows. Fer makin’ coins and sich.”

Stone found a road, if it can be called that, and pulled his train over onto it.

He left word for the wagoneers to sell any goods that were wanted for a fair price, keeping half for themselves, and then headed to the miners hall. There was one small man in the building, with a damaged arm. He used the other to make notes in ledgers, and demanded Stone tell him the cause of his visit.

“You the bloke who sent them army fellers here last year?” the man said. “They sure stopped the leeches the old Duke sent out to collect ‘taxes’. Robbery was what it was. Most all of them are mining now, at least part time. They club together with a few of the boys when trouble stirs up, and we votes them a bonus. Bandits know to stay away now. So whatcha gonna do now?”

“Well,” Stone said. “This meeting was mostly to acquaint myself with the area. But now that I know there is a mint down here, I intend to use it over the next week or so. I have a bit of gold, but what I really need are coppers and small coins.”

“That’ll make the grubbers happy,” the man said. “Most of the men are after gold, and silver if they can get it. But the grubbers work mines of copper, tin and other ores. You will get a good price fer yer coppers and bronze coins.”

Stone went over to the mint, and plopped down a bag of golds, about half what the family had. They had made a profit trading in each of the towns on the circuit, and would pass through Three Rivers, Greenford and Greenwood again on the way north.

“Whatcha want on the coins,” the mint operator said. “Mostly we did the face on one side and then some kind of symbol on the other. I got dies with the old Dukes face on them, and could scrape off his beard. It’d look a lot like you. Are you the new Duke?”

“No, no,” Stone said. “I am only the Captain. And I don’t want my face on the coins. Lets just put a symbol on the one side. Put the sun on the penny, the moon on the half pennies, and stars on the forthings. We will talk about tuppence and six pence later. And on the backs: what about a dragon. Something fierce looking, flying through the air.”

“With a plume of fire,” the man said excitedly at the chance to design something amazing. He took a pencil, and sketched hurriedly for a few minutes, and Stone saw a fierce-looking dragon slowly appear.

“That is perfect,” he said to the man, who didn’t answer, rapt in his work.

“Good?” the man finally held up the sketch.

“That is wonderful,” Stone said.

“Gotta get it into metal now,” the man said, turning back into his shop. “I’ll have some to see in two days. Whole order’s gonna take two weeks.”

Stone left, wondering what he would do for two weeks. Suddenly Pate started to sing, and Stone pulled the sword, expecting to go into battle mode.

«Calm down, there is no danger,» Pate said, speaking rather than singing for the first time.

“You can talk?”

«Yes. I can do a lot of things that you aren’t aware of. One of them is to see inside of rocks. Not just for things that can hurt us, but things that can help us.»

“You are confusing me,” Stone said.

«Do you see that huge bluff behind the assay office? The miners around here think it is pure granite, but in fact there are no less than three veins of gold ore in there. More gold there than in the rest of the areas being mined here.»

“So what do we do?”

«If you are smart you go to the miners office, and stake out a claim, if there isn’t one. Judging by the fact no one has been working on it, it’s open. If not, we will need to buy the stake.»

Stone went back to the office, and told the man in there he wanted to try some mining, mentioning the bluff.

“That’s gonna cost you five gold,” the man chortled. “Probably won’t give you five gold in ore, though.” The man continued to chuckle as he filled in the paperwork, giving Stone the claim and a receipt.

«Come on, let’s ride up to the top of the bluff,» Pate said.

Stone and Doug rode up taking a wide circle route: it was too steep to even think about riding straight up. At the top Pate led them to the edge.

«Over there. Take me out of the scabbard and put my tip down … right there.»

Stone felt the sword jump a couple of inches on its own.

«Perfect. Now press down as hard as you can.»

Stone did, and he again felt power coming from the earth, flowing into his body as the sword slowly sunk into the stone, causing a thin crack to creep out in either direction. Soon the sword was embedded up to its hilt.

«Now twist. Clockwise, I think.»

Stone did so, and again felt the earth magic flowing into him. Suddenly there was a loud crack, and a massive boom as the earth split. Stone was off balance from the effort, and it was only a timely snap by Doug that caught his collar and pulled him back as tons of rock slid down. About 12 feet of the bluff had crumpled and fallen to the valley below.

Stone sheathed the sword, mounted his horse, and walked down to the miner’s office, which had missed being flattened by 50 feet.

“What the hell you done, boy,” the man from the office shouted. He then looked up on the newly exposed face and his mouth dropped open. There were three areas shining in the setting sunlight, each a foot round, and looking like gold veins.

The roar of the rock fall has attracted attention from other miners, who came to see, and with gold veins clearly in view, dozens hurried to the office, only to have the man there direct them to Stone. Dozens of men offered to work for him. Most wanted to work shares, but Stone instead suggested a wage of 5 silver a week, which most of the men jumped at.

During the next four weeks the men brought out over a ton of gold. The mint completed the order of copper coins, and then spent another week minting silvers. At the end of the month in Golden, Stone had set up an operation he hoped could continue without him. The gold bars were divided up between the wagons in the train, and they pulled out. The trip north through Three Rivers, Greenford and Greenwood went well, and soon they were back in their little house in Greenstone.

A little side story. We will be back with Stone and family in the next chapter: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 26 – Here be dragons

Sarn looked over at his sister, Aerith, who was scanning the flock of sheep, as she was supposed to. There were two sheep dogs, running around the edges of the flock, keeping any sheep from straying. Sarn was 15 and Aerith was only 10, old enough to tend the flock when Sarn moved on to working the cattle with his older brothers, once he had trained his sister.

Suddenly there was a great shadow in the air, and Sarn looked up to see a great dragon, nearly 100 feet long, breathing fire as it dipped down to the next field, where the cattle were. It took a large cow in each claw, and then flapped as he regained elevation, roaring as he flew.

Sarn turned back to see his sister, who was looking up at something falling on her. She lifted her arms to ward it from hitting her, and it slipped down around her arms. Then she disappeared. Vanished. One second she was there, but as soon as the golden cylinder descended past her startled eyes, she was gone.

The roar made Sarn look back at the dragon, which had stuffed one of the cows into his fiery mouth, and then descended again at the spot where Aerith had disappeared. The free claw reached out and seemed to grasp at the spot his sister had stood in, and suddenly the dragon disappeared. Sarn did what any boy in the world would do: he ran for home.

-------

Aerith had fainted. She came to while in the claw of the dragon. Everything looked odd, with no colors. She could also hear the thoughts of the dragon: and they were not pleasant thoughts. It was trying to figure out the best way to get her out of what it called his ring. And all of these methods involved killing her: cutting her into pieces, or cooking her body with his breath. She realized that the ring was magic, and had kept the dragon invisible until it fell onto her. It now made her invisible, which would explain the startled look on her brother’s face after the ring had dropped onto her. While the dragon held her, it was also invisible.

The ring, which the dragon usually wore on his front dewclaw, was wrapped around her torso like a corset. She was surprised to see breasts poking out the top. Only 10, she didn’t have breasts before now. She had bigger hips now as well. Her figure looked like her sister Saran, who was 16.

The dragon could apparently also read her thoughts, and suddenly decided to stop thinking of ways to kill her and free his ring. Apparently the ring has a tendency to slip off his claw. Not often, once every decade or so, but often enough to be annoying. The dragon decided not to kill her, and keep her as a dragonrider.

Aerith was a bit pleased that she was not to be killed, but dearly wanted to get back to her family. They probably wouldn’t recognize her in this older body, but she could try. The dragon explained that this was not possible. While she was wearing the ring, or corset, depending on how you looked at it, she was invisible, and even her speech would not be heard by anyone. And, it pointed out; removing the ring would probably mean her death. Her older body was larger, and now the ring fit her tightly. It had slipped on easily, but would not come off as easily.

Aerith sobbed silently for two days as the dragon flew about, unseen in the air. During this time she found she could delve into the memories of the beast. It was the last of its kind. She saw memories of the skies filled with dragons, back when the dragon was young, thousands of years ago. Then the people came. They were small and puny, hardly worth catching for a hungry dragon. But they had the annoying habit of working together. And while one man could not face a dragon, a hundred could, and did, slowly killing off the race.

At the rare dragon councils, there was talk that the dragons should also band together and wipe the people off the earth. But the dragons were a fiercely independent breed, and could not agree who would be the leader, so nothing was done, and slowly the numbers of dragons dwindled to triple digit numbers, then double digits.

Aerith’s dragon was one of the last born ... dragons only breed once a century, and it was not even a teen (younger than 1200 years) when it had discovered the ring in the north. She wore it back to her home, and discovered that her mother and father could not even see her. She also found out that the little people could not see her, and she could wreak havoc on their puny farms and villages, burning the straw roofs, and stealing their cattle to eat. She did this happily until one day she realized that she was the last dragon in the land, and would never mate. That had been centuries ago.

It was when the dragon swooped down on her own home that Aerith broke out of her funk. She saw Sarn leading the sheep away. Of course the job remained his when his sister had disappeared before his eyes. It would be five years before the next child, another son, would be old enough for the job.

Aerith screamed ‘NO’ as the dragon swooped down on the farm, kindling fire in its belly to burn the barn and house. And that is when she discovered that she had a power over the beast. It swooped back skyward and let out the fire into the air. Sarn saw it, but saw no dragon, so didn’t understand it. Perhaps a shooting star? But it had seemed like real fire. Aerith, two miles above, was amazed that she could hear his thoughts, even though she could not communicate with him.

The dragon had not been hungry until a week after digesting the two cows, but now Aerith would not let him steal any more of the family’s herd. Instead he had to hunt miles away. She also kept him moving, so that no farm lost more than a single cow or ox. Gradually she moved the dragon in a great circle, so that its appetite could be sated with minimal harm to the farmers.

She brought the dragon back to her area after several years, and hovered over the family farm. Sarn had left, and his older brothers were now running the farm while her aged father sat on a chair on the porch. The dragon took his dinner from fields of the neighbors, not touching her family’s farm, although it was now recovered from the loss of two cows and a daughter many years earlier.

By listening into her father’s thoughts she discovered that Sarn was running a small inn in the nearby village, so she had the dragon fly over it, learning that her brother was barely surviving as the smallest of the three inns in the town. So Aerith had her dragon burn down the other two inns, and the entire village had to meet in Sarn’s small inn to discuss the fires, immediately improving his business.

When she came back, several years later, Sarn had the biggest inn in the town, and there were two smaller inns taking some of the business. Both of these also burned and again there was a spike in his business. This second trip was a surprise to Aerith: her brother Sarn was now an old man and his son, also named Sarn was running the inn. Apparently what seemed like a year or two to her was 50 years in the real world.

Once or twice when it seemed that the later generations of the family had fallen on hard luck a bit, so Aerith pulled a scalesheet out from the dragon, and placed it where it could be found. The scales under a dragon’s wings consist of overlapping squares of a scalesheet about a foot square, with 250 gold scales on it, each worth about three gold. The squares on the underside are similar, but with silver scales, each worth one silver. Dropping a few of these allowed the family to get back on track economically. Unfortunately, the dragon could not spare more than one or two at a time, or it would have an area that could be attacked. It took several decades to regrow the missing scalesheets and scales.

Over time she continued to visit her brother’s descendants, discovering a new generation every year or two. They gradually worked their way up the economic scale, become mayor, governor and eventually Duke of an area called Sarn. The last time she had visited the Duke had been a somewhat foolish young man, and Aerith was fairly certain that she would need to leave him a gold scalesheet on the next visit. Instead she found the castle vacant, and learned that the Duke had left the year before, after spending all the family wealth.

But there was another member of the family in town. She went to the small inn Ronald ran, and perched her dragon on the roof. While a dragon is huge, it is actually quite light, and thus could perch on the small inn. The low weight is how dragons are able to fly, after all.

The invisible dragon landed on the inn just before midnight, and Aerith mentally urged all the customers to leave. The place was empty at midnight, two hours earlier than normal, and Ronald began cleaning the place up. When he went out to sweep the rear entrance, he heard the clunk of two metallic items his the cement.

He turned, and saw the scalesheets. The family lore told of these scales appearing in the past, so he scooped them up and carried them inside. When the scalesheets are attached to a dragon, it is nearly impossible to remove the small scales. But when separate, the scales come off easily, leaving the clothlike skin-backing behind. The family lore said that these are valuable in their own way, since heat will not transmit through them. The old Duke had nearly a dozen that had been amassed by the family over the years, until he pawned them.

The next day, before Ronald opened the inn, he went over to a silversmith, and offered him some of the gold.

“That looks like dragon’s gold,” the man said with awe in his eyes. He tried to bend one of the scales. “It is. You can normally bend gold: it is quite soft. But dragon’s gold is stronger than steel. I have never worked it before, but my old master’s master had, and passed on the lore. I can only afford to buy four. I will pay three gold each. But when I get rings made of them, I will be able to buy more.”

“Why are they so valuable?” Ronald asked.

“Rings made from a scale are attuned to each other, apparently. Usually a husband and wife buy them and when they wear them they can always sense the other. Even as to the general distance and direction. Rich folk buy them: I will be able to sell a set of rings for 12 gold the pair.”

Ronald sold the four rings, then went to the other silver and goldsmiths in town, but they would not buy any, since they didn’t have the skills to work the rare metal.

Ronald used the golds he did get to order in food. He had been offering a stew-kitchen for the poor once a week. With this gold, and the silvers from the other scalesheet, he would be able to hold one every other day.

Sorry for such a long delay. I just didn’t feel like writing. Do you like the new image? It seems more appropriate for the last half of the story: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 27 – Home again

“Are we there …” Emily started to say, but her brother elbowed her before she said the last word. The last time one of the children said, ‘Are we there yet?” Stone had them do more lessons with Rayla. Jason didn’t want to have to do more lessons and had stopped his sister from instigating any. Stone smiled.

“See that ridge we are coming up to,” he told the children. “And the one just past it? Well, after that there are only three more ridges until we reach Greenstone. You can count the ridges yourself now, and have no need to ask me when we will be home.

Of course the ridges were nearly a half-mile apart, on average, so it took nearly an hour until the last one was summited, and the kids screamed with glee at seeing the town again, nearly three months after they left it. It was much changed, with a longer row of stores on the main street, and new houses built all over the place. Main Street was paved in brick, and all the storefronts had wooden sidewalks in front. The family drove their little caravan up the side street to their house, and were surprised to see smoke coming out the chimney.

Stone dismounted and pulled Pate out, rapping at the door with the tip. The door was answered by a tiny woman, less than five feet tall. She looked at Stone towering over her, and immediately screamed and slammed the door.

A shocked Stone tapped again, and after a few minutes a big man answered the taps. He was over six feet tall, and probably would have never met a man taller than him, but Stone was over seven feet. “What you want,” the big man said, his lips barely visible through the bushy beard he wore.

“My house,” Stone said.

“’tis mine now,” the man replied. “It were sitting empty for months, and a couple weeks ago someun found that men was stealing logs from the woodlot in the back. The mayor said me and the Missus could have it, on account of the original owner was dead. Look’s like you aint. ‘re we goin’ have trouble?”

“I dunno.” Stone said. “I’d hate to kick a man out of his house. Although that seems to be what has been done to me. I’ll head into town and find out what comes next. Meanwhile I will park my caravan here, and my wife and kids will stay in it.”

“No need,” a small voice from behind said. “They are welcome to come in and visit with me. I don’t get many visitors up here.” It was the tiny woman.

Rayla and the kids got out, and she was surprised to see that the woman was smaller than she was. The new residents had three children, with the younger two close in age to Rayla’s pair. They immediately ran to the back to play in the wood, which was somewhat smaller now.

“What’s your business? I’m a woodcarver. Makes the best chairs in town,” the bushy man said.

“Hmm,” Stone thought for a bit. He was no longer the mayor, and certainly no longer a football lineman. “I guess you could say I’m a trader. Name is Stone. That’s Rayla, Emily and Jason.”

“M’Guff,” the man grunted. “Susan and Bart, Bret and Tina,” he pointed at the children as he named them, oldest to youngest before they were out of sight.

“Gimme an hour in town,” Stone said, turning and grabbing a sack of coins from the caravan. The other wagons had already headed towards town and were setting up in the trading place. A steady stream of people were coming towards the eight wagons to see what wares were coming in. Stone walked to the town offices: his wagoneers had been empowered to sell the goods for a fair price, taking a quarter as a commission. That would more than double the salary Stone would pay them on the morrow for their long trip.

As he walked into town, Stone noticed people he knew reacting strangely, as though surprised to see him. At the town office he entered, and found Euler at his desk, staring at him with an open mouth.

“Captain, we thought you were dead,” the clerk gasped. “What happened?”

“Here.” Stone tossed the bag of coin on the desk. “We managed to find a place that could make small coins for the town. It took some time for the coin to be made, and we did some mining at the same time. When you get a chance, please send four soldiers down to the trading place. My men will send back some gold. Quite a bit of gold actually. It will take them several trips to get it all.”

Euler opened the bag, which was full of copper and silver coin. “Thank heavens for this. The town really needs more small coin. I will total this all up, and put it on your account. Plus the gold when it comes in. When the merchants hear we had small coin, they will be down on us like locusts. Probably will need to ration it out.”

“There is another matter. My house,” Stone said.

Euler turned pale, and started to stammer when Stone heard the door open behind him. It was Carlson, now the mayor.

“Stone. You are back,” he said.

“He wants to know about the house,” Euler finally said. Now it was the mayor’s turn to go pale.

“Oh. Uh, I guess that is my doing,” Carlson stammered. “We found that someone was trespassing on your land, taking wood from the woodlot. Whole trees, not just windfall. Tree rustlers, I guess. We didn’t know you were coming back. Other trips were two weeks, this was over two months. I told M’Guff he could move in. He’s big enough to deter the rustlers. I said that he would have to move out when you returned. But everyone was saying that you would have been back before then if you were able. I’ll send word to M’Guff to have him move. You can stay in the hotel for a couple days while he packs up.”

“Not so fast,” Stone said. “We have the caravan, and can stay in it. And I don’t want to kick a family out of the house they just moved into. We can stay in the caravan. It is quite comfortable for the four of us. We will have to make another trip in a couple of weeks anyway. It takes longer to make the full circuit, and I have some mining interests down in Golden to check up on. And when we get back in late summer it will be over two years since the town was founded. Rayla and I have a mission to go on. This will take longer, since we plan to sail over Great Wolf Lake to the other side.”

Carter and Euler were both showing signs of relief. They had both seen Stone fight, and it would be questionable if the full barracks could stop him. Dozens would die, had he not taken the sale of his house so well.

Stone left, and walked along to the bakery. He ordered buns and pastries for the family, and their hosts, and had a lad deliver them. He had other tasks to do. But before he left the bakery he paid for his purchases with coppers, to the delight of the clerk, who had no change left for the silvers that she had taken in that day.

Stone walked down to the lumber mill, where his old friend, Ranston was in a small office while the mill hummed with activity. “You seem busy, my friend,” Stone said as he closed the door behind him to the office.

“Stone. You are back! They said you were dead,” Ranston said, standing to give his much taller friend a hug.

“No, not yet,” Stone said. “Although it is a bit disheartening that so many people were so quick to write me off. This is a busy place.”

“It has been booming since you sent those men north. They know their business and completely reorganized the place. Production is way up. I’m able to pay my men well, and I’m still making a handsome profit.”

“Do you track the source of your raw materials?” Stone asked. “I understand that some men were cutting trees from my land. My former land.”

“Aye, I know who did it,” Ranston said. “When that M’Guff fellow moved in their racket collapsed, and one of their gang actually joined in here as a laborer.” He went to the door and shouted out: “Send Stumpy up here.”

While they waited for the man, the two made casual talk. The twins were now toddlers, and Stone made an invitation for Ranston to have his wife Nessa make a visit to the caravan to reunite with Rayla. Rayla had been midwife for the birth of the twins, and their older sister Lillabet was a friend of Emily’s and adored Stone.

When the man Stumpy finally arrived at the office, Stone immediately knew the source of his name. Three fingers on his left hand were missing, leaving only the thumb and index finger. No doubt a logging accident.

“Stump, this man would have a word with you,” Ranston said.

“I understand you were involved with a group of men who managed to take some trees from my property up on the hill,” Stone said gravely. The man turned pale, and looked like he wanted to run, but Stone was between him and the door.

Finally, after a long gulp, he spoke: “I have to admit I was. There were five of us, and we took two trees a night for nearly two weeks, 12 in all. I didn’t do any cutting. I can’t, anymore.” He held up the mangled hand. “I just selected the trees for them to cut. I tried to pick mature trees that were due for cutting. I tried to scatter them through the lot, but that was partially so people wouldn’t notice the stumps.”

“How much did they get for the trees?” Stone asked Ranston.

“Two gold per tree,” the miller said.

“Two gold?” Stumpy said. “They told us it was only 1 gold, four silver. They cheated us.”

“If you hang with thieves, expect to be cheated,” Stone said. “Two gold for each of 12 trees is 24 gold, and I hold you responsible for 1/5 of that, or nearly five gold. Can you pay?”

“No. I have nearly a gold saved up. I could pay one gold after my next pay, if I still have my job. But no more.”

“Is he a good worker?” Stone asked Ranston.

“Excellent. He knows wood and when a log comes in he can evaluate it in half the time of the others. How to cut and how much wood will come out. I would miss him if he was to serve time.”

“I don’t know if that will be necessary,” Stone said. “He must pay back what he owes, of course. But if he will testify against the others, then I think he can serve a probation here at the mill.”

Stumpy identified the other four, and Stone left the mill, back to the town offices to get another four soldiers to arrest the men. On the way, Stone detoured to the trading place, where he found his wagons nearly empty. He delegated two of the men, who had completely sold out to take his share of the take to Rayla at the caravan. The others watched the wagons, which still had gold bars from the mine in the bottoms.

Stone followed the four soldiers who were carrying a gold bar each on their third trip to the town office. Stone carried four bars himself. In the office Euler was weighing and calculating the value of the bars that had already come in, and Carlson was together with a group of eight more soldiers, guarding the wealth that people had seen coming into the hall.

Carlson issued papers for the arrest of the four tree rustlers, and Sgt. Pothman was detailed to get four more soldiers to head out and arrest the men. Stone wanted to go with them, so he went to the town stable where he picked up Doug, who had spent the past few hours getting reacquainted with the mares within.

Soon the six men went to a small woodcutter’s yard where they found all four men. They denied being involved, and Stone had to use Pate’s special talents to prove them guilty. One man, who Pate had declared the ringleader, tried to run, but Pate was quicker, and flicked out and separated the man’s arm from his body. A lumber mill worker with a half a hand could still be useful, as Stump had shown, but without a right arm, the man would never work the trade again.

This caused the others to confess, and admit what gold they had. In total 14 gold was recovered of the 24. The man with no arm claimed that it was unfair and that he was crippled, and would need his gold to live, as the healer called bandaged his stump. Stone suggested that if he didn’t turn in all of his takings, Pate would be happy to take off another arm, and perhaps a leg or two. This resulted in the other four gold the man had cheated out of his friends also being reclaimed.

Three men were tried the following day, with Stump testifying against them. All were ordered to spend a month working for the town, and restitution. Stump was relieved that his restitution was now less than a gold due to the gold that had been recovered. He was also sentenced to two months parole at the mill, with half his pay coming to the town.

The armless ringleader didn’t recover until a week later. After his trial he was ordered to pay restitution, and ordered to work for the women doing the charity meals for the entire year.

Stone ordered a second caravan, in hopes it would be ready for the next trip south. He also told Euler that 20% of the gold he had brought back should be considered taxes, and moved from his burgeoning account to the town’s, further extending the time before taxes would be necessary for the other people in the town.

The following day was Sunday, and Ranston brought his family to visit. Rayla and Susan M’Guff had bonded, and Tessa came bearing babies, or toddlers at least, and this led her to be welcomed to join in with the other women.

Stone had paid three gold to M’Guff for the loss of the trees, more money than the man would earn this year. And he and Ranston went back to explore the wood and look at the stumps. Ranston pointed out trees that needed to be harvested, and M’Guff was amazed to learn that he would get all of the proceeds from these. Just harvesting two or three trees a year would make a major supplement to the family fortunes. The eldest boy of each family accompanied the men, and Ranston was happy to explain some forest lore to them.

The other item of interest in their return was the visit by the young printer, who spent several hours with Rayla, then Stone, getting a story about their trip. When the next paper came out, it was full of their activities with a story about each of the other villages, and another about the trip in general.

This one is out quicker. It is also very short, but I saw the rest of what I wanted to get in taking up too much space (and time): Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 28 – Ready for the Road

That night while Stone lay on the floor of the caravan and told his fairy tales to the children, Jason held his six-month old dog, Steel on his lap. Rayla was sitting on the sofa, and Daisy, the mother of the litter, had her head on her lap. Technically Daisy was Emily’s dog, but the bitch knew who fed her, and was attracted more to Rayla. Rayla loved the pet, which reminded her of the mutt back in Cleveland who gave her (then him) more love than he received from any other source.

After the stories were over, the kids were sent to bed, although not without complaints. The two dogs nestled in a box under Emily’s lower bunk, while her brother was in the top one. Stone pulled out the lever that changed the settee into a bed, and his and Rayla climbed in. It was small, but the big man and his small wife enjoyed the enforced coziness.

“How will we work it when the second caravan is finished,” Rayla said. “Girls in one and boys the other, or adults and kids.”

“I wouldn’t be afraid of the kids being alone if they had the dogs,” Stone said. “I know I want my wife with me.”

“When will we go south again? And do we have to go?”

“Unfortunately we need to go,” Stone replied. “I don’t think that we need to do much with Greenwood and Greenford: like Greenstone they seem to be running well alone. But I worry a bit about Golden, and our mine. That seems to be a bit of a lawless place. It is the only one that didn’t form a police force from the soldiers we sent there. And I really need to get to Westport again, hopefully with a whack of gold from Golden. I want to buy a ship.”

“A ship!” Rayla exclaimed. “First a mine, and then a ship. Are you going to corner all the trade in this duchy?”

“No, the ship will be for when we finally start our long-delayed mission. In the fall Emily will be five, and Jason will be eight. Does missing school hurt them?”

“No,” Rayla said. “Both of them are at least two years ahead of where they should be. Teaching them on the wagons, one-on-one, has them ahead in reading, writing, and math. And they are way ahead in geography and natural sciences. Jason’s teacher had been having him teach the students in geography, drawing a big map on the chalkboard and then explaining all the other towns.”

Stone puffed up with pride at what the boy was doing. Jason hadn’t mentioned it in their morning walks to the bakery. “Imagine how much more they will learn and experience if we go after the three towers.”

“Do you think they are real?” she said softly. “What if it is just a myth or fable? I mean centaurs, unicorns, mermaids and werewolves. Sounds too fantastic to believe.”

“I believe there is magic in this land,” Stone said. “Magic brought us here. I have a magic sword, and a magic horse. You have a magic familiar, a magic quiver, and a magic body.” At this point he caressed her huge breasts beneath her nightshirt.

Rayla giggled: “Don’t get carried away, or we will wake the children.”

“Just something else for them to learn,” Stone said.

As Stone cuddled his wife, he saw Daisy crawl out of her box, ears erect as she stared at the door. Steel followed, and then yipped. That started Daisy off, and soon both dogs were barking furiously.

Stone stood, stark naked, and went to the door. Opening it, he saw something, or more correctly, someone running away. The person looked back, and Stone could only see the whites of his eyes and his teeth: all else was black.

The dogs tore past him, and Rayla moved beside him, wrapping a sheet around his waist. “Daisy, come back,” she called and the older dog stopped, and then came back, looking over her shoulder as she did. Steel was younger, and less well trained, and kept running. Then Jason was at Stone’s side, and he called “Steel, stop.” The young pup paused its chase, and when Jason called “Steel, come.” He started trotting back to the caravan to his young master.

“What is it? Why are the dogs barking?” little Emily said.

“It’s okay. They thought they heard something,” Rayla said, scooping the little girl up. They are back now, and everything is okay. You need to go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” a tired voice said as Rayla led her back into her bed. Jason climbed up to the top bunk without being told. Soon the sounds of sleeping children were heard from the bunks as Rayla sat on their bed and combed her hands through the dogs fur, giving them a rub down as she did. She found a few thistles on Daisy’s leg, while Steel just enjoyed the contact.

“Why did you stop them?” Stone asked. “They would have run down the man in another few minutes.”

“Was it a man? I didn’t know. But man or beast they could be in danger, from fangs or a knife,” Rayla said. “I couldn’t bear to lose either of them. Did you recognize him?”

“No. I know most of the people in the town, but with so many coming in all the time, I can’t be sure,” Stone said. “I do know that he had covered his faces with soot and ashes or something. His face was as black as Jason’s.”

“Well, we know we won’t have to worry about him for long. We will be going south in a few weeks, won’t we?”

“As soon as the second caravan is finished, and I find a driver for it. O’Breyne is good, but he can’t drive two teams at once.”

“I wonder if he saw anything?” Rayla said.

“Not likely. He is sleeping in his room in the barn, and that is the opposite direction from where the man ran to.”

The next morning Stone went to the barn and spoke to the driver, who admitted to being a bit drunk and had not even heard the dogs. The man only went on benders when he was paid after a trip, and was getting near the end of his current supply.

When he got back to the house, Stone met an incensed Jason, who thought he had been left out of the morning trip they always made. He was mollified when Stone said he was just checking on the wagoneer.

They made their trip to the bakery, and then a second trip to the man building the caravan. Jason got a chance to check out the insides. This one only had the bunk for the kids, and a much larger kitchen taking up the space from the other bed. The bunk in the current caravan would become storage, so that more of the household goods and supplies could be carried in the caravans instead of the wagons.

Stone then went to the stables, and booked 12 wagons for the trip, with drivers and teams, and four spare horses. He also purchased four horses for the new caravan. He heard a neigh, from across the stables, and knew what Doug was saying without actually touching him. “All mares, please. The largest you have.”

When they got back to the caravan, Jason presented Rayla with the dozen meat pies that they had purchased, along with three pastries. They were slightly banged up from the bouncing around Jason had done in the new caravan, which he described to the girls as they all ate their sticky pastries.

“So when will it be ready?” Rayla asked her husband.

“Less than two weeks. Do you have much to do?”

“Of course. I want a new dress, and outfits for each of the kids. And you need another pair of buckskins or so, or your naughty bits will start poking out the holes you keep making in them.”

“What are naughty bits, Mommy?” Emily said.

“Come on Jason, time for us to go check out the woods,” Stone said with a laugh as he left Rayla to talk with her daughter.

Another episode: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 29 – Jason’s moment

It was two days later, at story time before bed, when the dogs alerted again. “Keep them from barking,” Stone ordered, and Rayla started to massage Daisy’s muzzle. Jason, seeing what his mother did, imitated her with Steel. The dogs growled, but did not bark. Stone lifted Emily from his lap and stood, reaching for Pate in her hiding nook.

As soon as he had a hand on the sword, Stone went into battle mode. Everything went into wireframe mode, in slow motion. He flung open the door, and saw a man-shape lurking just outside. He swung the blade around to slice off the man’s head, when suddenly the shape went red – the symbol for stop. Then, just as the blade was about to connect with his head, it twisted, and hit the man hard, with the flat of the blade. There were one, two sickening thunks: one as the blade hit the head, and the other when the head hit the side of the caravan, rocking it on its wheels.

«What did you do?» Stone asked Pate.

«It is Jason,» the sword replied. «I couldn’t hurt the boy.»

Stone simply picked up the unconscious man, and carried him into the caravan, dropping him on the floor. It was a full-grown man, wearing dark trousers, and nothing else. He was also black, as black as Jason who stared at seeing someone with his color for the first time in his life.

«Well, I thought it was Jason,» Pate apologized.

«His birth father?» Stone suggested.

«Yes, that must be it,» the sword replied. «He seemed so much like Jason. They must be related.»

“This is Jason’s father,” Stone said to the others. “We need to find out why he is lurking around here.”

“You are my father,” Jason said, hugging Stone as he bent to loop a chain around the foot of the unconscious man.

“Not from birth, Jason,” Stone said. “This must be the man that created you with your original mother.”

“She was my mother, before Mommy,” the boy said. “But he was never my father. He ran away.”

“Well now he is back,” Rayla said as she washed the man’s dark face with a wetted cloth. He showed signs of coming to and kicked his feet, finding the one in a chain.

“No slave,” the man mumbled, and then his eyes opened slightly. “I will not be a slave. No Kithren man will submit to slavery. You can kill me, but not chain me.”

“Relax, you are not a slave,” Stone said. “The chain is because you were lurking outside my home, and I intend to find out why. If your answers please me, I will remove the chain.”

“Remove it now, Master,” the man said. “I came for the boy. He is my son.”

“I am not,” Jason said. He had gotten his hunting knife from its hiding place, and was holding it menacingly.

“And I am not your Master,” Stone said. “You can call me Captain, or Stone, which is my name.”

The black man hesitated. To exchange names in the Kithren culture was significant. You could not be an enemy with someone who you have exchanged names with. Finally he made a decision: “My name is Kalosun. I have come for the boy.”

“And the girl too?” Stone looked at Emily.

“No she is not my daughter,” the man said. “She is the spawn of my woman and a slaver. She is a slave-spawn whore.”

“She is not,” Jason said fiercely, and he attacked the man with his knife. Just as the blade was about to touch the man, he clasped his hands together on the sides of the blade, and prevented the young boy from thrusting. He flicked the blade aside, to Jason’s wonderment.

“Calm down, Jason,” Stone said, as the boy scrambled to get his blade back from where it fell. “I don’t think the boy wants to go with you.”

“He must. He is of age when he needs to learn about his Kithren heritage,” Kalosun said. “He can learn nothing here from you white people.”

“That is not true,” Stone said. “He felled an adult boar at age six, alone and without help until it was time to clean the carcass. He is seven now, and is handy with a knife and bow. When his strength comes in he will be a mighty fighter.”

The black man’s eyes widened at learning about the boar. “A true warrior. But he needs also to learn about the ways of his people: the stories, the true religion, and much more. I will teach him.”

“You will not take him away without his permission,” Stone insisted. “You can teach him much of what you speak of without taking him away.”

“It would be better if he left with me,” Kalosun said. “But you are right. I can teach him much here. We would need to go on side trips, perhaps a night or two. Is that possible?”

“Not until I am sure of you. We will travel soon, and I cannot waste time chasing you to recover my son,” Stone said. “And if you do run, we will catch you. And you will not receive mercy from my sword a second time.”

“I will make you an oath,” the man said. “Kithra is sleeping now, and Mala is but a crescent, so the oath cannot be as strong as a Kith-oath. But I swear by Mala in the sky that I will not take the boy away, without your permission.”

“I have heard that Kithren oaths are strong,” Stone said. “But I will leave you in the chain until you swear by your sun. Do you accept?”

“I do. But I am not a slave. I am merely your prisoner.”

“True. But what to do with you? I am not going to allow you to sleep in the caravan until morning, oath or no oath. Perhaps in the shed,” Stone said.

“I don’t care where I am placed, I have sworn, and will be where you leave me in the morning. You and your whore can do as you like.”

Jason did not know exactly what that word meant, but he knew it was a bad word to say about a woman. He again thrust his knife at the man, saying “My mother is not that word.”

Kalosun again made his effort to slap the knife aside, but this time Jason twisted it as he thrust and the man slapped onto the blades, and not the flats. He screamed a bit as the blade dug in deeply due to his own actions, but quickly stifled it. Rayla screamed as well, when she saw the blood pouring from the man’s hands. She grabbed a tin basin and put it under his bleeding hands, to keep most of the blood from her floor.

“Jason, what did you do?” she screamed.

“Mostly he did it himself,” Stone noted. “Do you have some rags to wrap his cuts?”

She tossed one rag, an old flour sack to Stone, and grabbed another herself. They tore the rags into strips, and wrapped Kalosun’s hands, with the white rags quickly turning red.

“My son is a warrior,” he said proudly, clenching his teeth through the pain.

Jason was white as a ghost. He had never hurt anyone so badly. He had been in fights before, protecting his sister, but had never drawn so much blood. He wondered if the man might die. Before he had never done much more than bloody a nose. This was serious.

It took several minutes before the wounds stopped leaking so badly, and Rayla opened the bandages. They were seeping blood, but not heavily any more. She stood and got a bottle from the kitchen. “This is liquor,” she said. “Neither Stone or I drink, but we keep this in case we have guests that do. It is going to hurt, but it will prevent infection.”

She poured a thin stream of the liquid along the cuts, and Kalosun winced with the pain, closing his eyes tightly. Tears appeared at the corners of his eyes, and when she was done, and was rewrapping the hands with new cloths, he looked at Jason and said: “A Kittren warrior never cries, in spit of how much something hurts. This is something you will need to do, although hopefully not through a knife cut.”

“This changes things,” Rayla said. “I don’t want him in the shed like this. He needs to be close enough to get us if things go bad.”

“But not in the caravan,” Stone insisted,

“What about underneath? He can kick the floor to wake us, if he needs help. I have a few extra blankets.”

“I don’t need blankets,” Kalosun insisted.

“Yes you do. It gets cold at night this time of year, and you have lost a lot of blood. You need water too.” She handed him a mug of water, and he drank it, and a second one she got for him. “Jason, fill up a canteen for him. He will need water tonight. Don’t put the cap on too tightly… he will have to open it with his teeth.

Finally she let Stone took the man outside and he fastened the chain to the axel, and made up a little bed for him. Normally a person could easily unfasten the small chain, but the man no longer had working fingers, so he was easily secured.

When Stone got back inside, Rayla had put the kids to bed … it was actually early in the morning now. Stone leaned over Jason bunk and hugged his son, who was shaking. “You did nothing wrong, son. I was about to hit him for his vile comments.” He held his son until the shaking stopped, and the boy started to fall asleep.

“So much blood,” the boy said as he fell asleep.

“This changes everything,” Stone said softly. “Do we take this man with us on our trip, or let him roam the town.”

“We have to take him,” Rayla said. “He won’t be able to use those hands for weeks, maybe months. We will need to look after him until he is well. And there is nothing wrong with Jason learning a bit about his culture.”

“Emily too,” Stone said. “She is half Kithren and deserves to know some things, even if the man is not willing to teach her.”

The next morning Stone woke earlier than he really wanted to. He found the man sleeping under the caravan, and Jason and he went to the bakeries to get breakfast and more of the tasty meat pies for lunch. When they got back, they woke Kalosun, who seemed embarrassed that he had slept so long.

“I will make the oath to Kithra,” he said, looking at the rising sun. “I want the boy to watch.”

“Emily too,” Stone insisted. “You must teach her about her heritage as well. I know she is not your child, but she is one of your people.”

The black man did not take that well. “I cannot take her hunting and gathering,” he said. “That is man’s work. A woman should teach her what she needs to know.”

“There are no Kithren women around here,” Stone said. “If we meet one in our travels, you might be able to let her teach Emily, but until then, you teach both, or none.” Kalosun didn’t look happy at his options, but eventually agreed, and Stone called Emily out.

The oath was not long or complicated, but Kalosun faced the son and promised to teach Kithren ways to Jason and Emily and to not try to steal either of them away.

A breakfast followed, with Kalosun insisting he needed no help to feed himself. Of course he did, and then he insisted pompously that he was not hungry. Rayla also insisted, and force-fed him a spoonful of oatmeal. After two or three bites, he stopped fighting her, and eventually cleaned up a bowl nearly as large as Stone’s. The black man was proud of himself for being able to eat the bun from the bakery on his own, holding it between bandaged hands as he tore off pieces.

“I need to look at your wounds,” she said after the meal was over. “I may need to do stitches to hold the pieces tight so they can heal. It will always scar, and if the ligaments are cut he may never get full use of them.”

“Shouldn’t we take him to the healers?” Stone suggested.

“No. I don’t want the whole town knowing that my son injured someone with a knife. He is only seven.”

She undid the bandages, which were bloodstained on the insides, but had not leaked through like the first ones. She pulled the cuts apart, and dribbled more liquor on the wounds, and then took a needle and a sturdy thread, and started sewing the cuts together. Kalosun grimaced with closed eyes again, but did not cry out through the hour-long procedure. When both hands were sewn, Rayla again tenderly wrapped his hands again.

“Thank you,” the man said. “And I am sorry for what I said. You are a good woman.”

“Your welcome,” she said not realizing how hard it was for the man to apologize. Stone knew that to his people men did not apologize, since it was a sign of weakness.

Rayla made him lie down on the caravan floor. Stone, Rayla and Emily cuddled on the parent’s bed, which had not been put up for the day. Jason was sent on an errand: to see if the second caravan was ready, and to have it delivered if it was. O’Breyne went with the boy to drive it back.

It was after lunch when they heard the sounds of the new caravan arriving. The family had finished lunch, with Rayla again feeding her patient a meat pie. She had two warming in the oven for O’Breyne and Jason. The rest of the afternoon was spent loading the new caravan to get ready to depart in two days, when the other wagons in the train would be ready.

Tonight Kalosun would sleep on the floor of the new wagon: even if he had not said an oath, he would be unable to leave the family while he needed them to feed him. The kids would spend another night with their parents. Once they were on the road, they would sleep in the new caravan with the dogs, and O’Breyen and the new driver sleeping underneath. Kalosun would sleep on the floor of the old caravan.

Let’s see if I can get the next chapter out a little sooner: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 30 – Finally, on the road

Stone had planned to leave at first light, but the sun was already fairly high in the sky when the wagons finally started to pull out. There were the two caravans, 12 wagons chartered by Stone, mainly filled with bags of coal, and five other wagons joining the train to take advantage of the 8 soldiers Stone had hired.

Stone, Rayla, the kids, and the dogs were in the original caravan. Kalosun was with O’Breyne in the new caravan. He had wanted to be with Jason, to start telling him of the lore of the Kitrens. But Stone pointed out for the first few hours the kids would be too hyped up about the trip to pay much attention. It was only after a few hours, when they started to get bored would they be allowed to join the black man.

They had been travelling about a half hour when Rayla said that Arthur was reporting on someone on the road about an hour ahead, walking unsteadily, in very worn and torn clothing. Stone decided to ride on ahead, taking two soldiers with him.

The three trotted on at about double the speed of the wagon train, so they crested a ridge about a half hour later and saw the person. She was close enough that they could tell she was a woman, and rode up towards her. They were about 100 yards from her when she noticed them, and looked around for a place to run. There was none. When Stone arrived where she was standing, he noticed something particular about her. Back on earth she would have been termed a Mongloid or having Down’s Syndrome. She looked to be in her mid teens. Astonishingly, she laid down on the road and lifted her skirt.

“Looks like she’s offering herself to you,” said Barnet, one of the soldiers. “She’s no prize in the looks department, though.”

“I can see where a traveller on the road for a long spell might not mind,” Kirk, his partner, added.

“Enough of that,” Stone admonished his men. “She’s terrified.” The girl was shaking as she lay on the road, eyes tightly closed. “What she fears is not going to happen, so keep your traps shut.”

Stone got down and bent over the girl, and picked her up. At that her eyes flew open: this was not the way it usually went. Stone carried her over to Doug, and put her on the big horse. At first she squirmed but for the big man she was no more difficult to carry than a toddler. But once atop the horse, she calmed somewhat and petted him, running her fingers through his mane.

She tensed up when Stone pulled himself up onto the horse behind her: being close to a man had never turned out well for her. But she relaxed as Doug turned and they headed back to the wagons, with Stone speaking softly to her the entire way. Since they had been moving while the men investigated, it was only 10 minutes before they met the wagons. Stone went to the old caravan, while the soldiers branched off to their compatriots.

“What did you find?” Rayla said. “Another woman? Am I not enough for you?”

“She is for you,” Stone said, sliding off the horse and lifting the girl onto the front bench next to his wife. “She has faced some trauma in the past, I fear. Hopefully you can calm her down and get her to speak. If she can speak.”

That question was answered a moment later when she waved at Doug, and said “Bye bye, horsie.”

Rayla put her arm around the girl, who tensed for a second, and then fell into her embrace, starting to sob. Apparently she was not afraid of women.

The noon lunch stop was about an hour later, and during that time the tears stopped flowing, and the new girl and Emily were back in the caravan, playing with Emily’s dolls. They were not traditional fabric dolls, like those now sold in Greenstone. O’Breyne had whittled these for Emily on their travels, out of pieces of wood.

During the ride the two girls bonded in their play. Rayla heard her tell Emily that her name was Sissy, and realized that while she looked around 16, she was on a mental par with five-year-old Emily. Except Emily would continue to mature, while Sissy would forever remain a five-year-old.

At the lunch stop there was a table set up for a cold meal. The men would take one of the still-fresh bakery buns and put slices of meat on them: venison, beef, ham or mutton. The entire break would only be 15 minutes, and the wagoneers would eat their sandwich while driving their wagons.

Stone and Jason went to the bench and made five sandwiches to carry back to the caravan. Stone also picked up a bag of rolls to take back.

Jason left his load with Rayla and Emily, who quickly started to eat. He then took his own lunch and went to the second caravan, interested in learning what Kalosun had to say.

Stone got into the back of the caravan, and handed a sandwich to the girl, who was reluctant to get close enough to the man to take it. Finally Stone passed it to Rayla, who handed it to the girl, who sniffed it and deciding it was good, started wolfing it down. She finished before any of the others, looking like she hadn’t eaten in days. Stone opened the bag of rolls beside him, and held out a plain bun.

This time she only paused for a second, and then darted out to snatch the roll. Her hunger overpowered her fear of men. But she retreated back to her place as far from Stone as possible, with Emily between them and proceeded to eat again at a much slower pace. Rayla had cold tea for them all, and Sissy drank down three cupsful: she was as thirsty as she was hungry.

Once the wagons started to move again, Sissy and Emily again spread out with the dolls and spent the full afternoon playing. Emily was glad to have a friend to play with, even one so much bigger than her. And Sissy felt safe in the wagon, with the only man present the driver safely on the outside. She felt comfortable with Rayla, the woman who had only hugged her when she cried: Sissy remembered many times in the past when tears meant getting hit, usually accompanied by the words ‘I’ll give you something to cry for.’

When the evening break came just before sunset, Rayla stayed in the caravan where the two girls were playing. Stone went to get Jason from Kalosun, and found that the boy was somewhat interested in what the older man had taught him during the day.

“Is that new girl still with Emily?” Jason asked his father as they helped set up the evening fire. “She is weird. She is almost a grownup, but she acts like a baby, like Emily.”

“She is not weird,” Stone said. “Only different. She has had trouble growing up and learning things. Hopefully your mother will be able to help her.”

When the stew was ready, they had to carry six plates back to the caravan, since Kalosun would eat with them. His bandaged hands were still too awkward to use a spoon, so Rayla had to feed him. With six plates needed, O’Breyne volunteered to help carry two. He smiled at Sissy, seeing her play with Emily’s dolls, until Rayla took the plates and put them on the table. The new girl was frightened of O’Breyne, who soon left to get his own dinner, but she seemed intrigued by Kalosun: rubbing his arm to see if the black might come off. She then noticed that Jason was the same color, and rubbed his arms to see if his skin color was just dirt. She was astounded when it was not.

The family ate their meal quietly, with Kalosun again reluctant to be spoon fed by Rayla. Only when Stone offered to do it did he move over to the woman. Apparently being helpless before a man was worse then before a woman.

That night the girls played with dolls after supper, while Jason helped his mother clean up. The kids were happy to sleep in the new caravan, joined by Sissy and the dogs, which the older girl adored. O’Breyne would sleep under that caravan along with Kalosun. Rayla and Stone would have the old caravan to themselves for the first time in a long time.

Just before bed Rayla announced that there would be at least a few hours of lessons in the morning, to general groans. Then Stone got down on the floor for story time, where he recounted old fairy tales from earth that he remembered. He had told all he could remember many times over, but the kids still clamoured to hear them again, crying out if he missed a part or changed something. Emily sat on his lap, while Jason was snuggled next to his dad, holding Steel on his lap. Sissy sat on the bed with Rayla for the first two stories, and then shyly got up and sat down on Stone’s other side. She flinched when he put his arm around her, but slowly started to snuggle in. If the big man was safe for Emily, he must surely be safe for her, she reasoned. Soon she felt safer than she had in years.

Eventually they all got into their sleeping wear: Jason and Emily, that is. Sissy had no other clothes. They went to the new caravan where the kids were tucked into the bunk beds, and a pad from the settee was placed on the floor as a bed for Sissy. Stone showed Jason how to drop the bar in front of the door, and announced that he was in charge of it. He was supposed to only open it for Rayla, O’Breyne or him. The dogs were ushered into the caravan, one lying at Sissy’s feet, and the other snuggled next to the girl who wrapped her arm around it.

Stone did not get the peaceful sleep he had hoped for. Rayla was fidgety all night, worried about her kids. No number of reassurances from Stone could convince her that they were all right, and she had to get up three times during the night to walk to the other caravan to see if they were all right. Only when she could hear their snores from outside the caravan would she agree that they were all right. Of course Stone felt compelled to accompany her on these trips, walking gently to not waken the men asleep beneath the wagon. At least once he could hear O’Breyne’s rolling snore stop as they neared.

So a sleepy Rayla lay in bed at dawn when the camp came to life. Stone went to the new caravan and Jason opened the bar, and then dashed off to the bushes for morning relief. Sissy and Emily accompanied Stone to the latrine that the soldiers had erected for the women the evening before. As they walked past the old caravan, Stone rapped on the side, telling Rayla to get up.

The girls had finished their business when Rayla darted past to do hers, and then the three headed back to the old caravan while Stone and Jason went on towards the fire to get morning oatmeal. Again, O’Breyne had to bring two plates, and when they got back, the females were stretching their legs. O’Breyne smiled at Sissy after handing his plates to Rayla. Sissy saw the smile, and remembered other times men had smiled at her. She dropped to the ground, flat on her back, with legs open. This had been the way that stopped most men from hurting her when they used her in the past. Not all men, but most.

O’Breyne just stood there stunned. Stone had told Rayla about his first encounter with the girl, but seeing it herself stunned the woman. “Sissy, stand up,” she sputtered, and the girl got up fearfully staring at the wagoneer. O’Breyne reached behind his back, and pulled something out of his waistband. It was a beautifully carved doll, similar to the ones he had made Emily. He held it out to the girl.

“For Emily?” Sissy asked.

“No. For Sissy,” O’Breyne said. It took the girl a few minutes to realize that this was hers. She had never owned anything before. Finally she held it close and said: “Sissy’s own dolly.” She turned and showed it to Emily, who squealed in delight.

“Look, it has arms,” the smaller girl said. “How do you make arms? Can you give arms to my dolls?”

O’Breyne grinned. “They are just twigs that bend a bit. I dowels them in and you can turn them a bit when you play, but not too much or they will get loose. It was a new idea. Bring me one of yours tonight and I will try to give her some arms.”

Then the man was amazed when Sissy leapt up and gave him a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said. And from that minute she no longer feared the driver, and was much less frightened of the other men on the trip.

That evening they reached Greenwood, and made camp outside of the booming little town. Stone took four wagons into town and sold the coal to the lumber yard for a good price, part of which Rayla took to the fabric store to buy a few bolts of cloth: a soft pink cotton and a sunny red woolen. Sissy needed clothes.

Less time between chapters this time, and I think this is the longest chapter to date: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 31 – Racism

The next morning the wagon train left for Greenford. In the morning Rayla held classes for the children, where they practiced their letters and spelling. Sissy tried to keep up with the others, but Jason was far ahead of her, and Emily slightly. The new girl was elated to learn to write her name, although it was only the letter S that she could draw reliably. She could also make an I, and a very crude Y, but she seemed unable to string them all together. But she did draw a sloppy S on the paper, and proudly showed it to Stone when he rode by, bragging that it was ‘My Name’.

During lunch O’Breyne came by again, and he was astonished when the girl ran to him and gave him a big hug. There were gifts for both the girls again. The driver returned two of Emily’s dolls, which now had arms dowelled in. But to Sissy’s amazement, he had also carved another doll for her. She shrieked in glee, and landed another hug on the man. For a person who had never owned anything in her life, she now owned two dolls. Rayla gave her a shelf of her own in the caravan, and the girl proudly realized that she was a part of the family. Until now she hadn’t really needed a personal space: she hadn’t put the first doll down from the time it was given to her, until she received the second one. Now having a space of her own made her proud, and she promised Rayla that she would always keep it tidy.

After lunch, while Jason joined Kalosun for the afternoon ride, the girls took out the cloth that Rayla had bought and started making clothes for Sissy. First up was a nightgown, so she would no longer need to sleep in her filthy rags. The pink cotton would also be used for making new underwear for the entire family. Rayla knew that Stone, and possibly Jason would complain about the color, and she intended to remind him that he only let her buy two bolts of material when she also wanted to buy white for the men. She started by making two pairs of panties for Sissy, and a bra, something the girl didn’t own. Rayla cut out the material for the panties, and started to sew. Sissy wanted to help sewing, so Rayla threaded a second needle, and watched the girl start to stitch the second pair. At first her work was slow and uneven, and Rayla thought she would have to pull out and resew the early, uneven stitches. But quickly Sissy started to gain skill at sewing. The simple, repetitive motions were perfect for her limited capabilities, and when Rayla announced that she was doing well, she beamed with pride.

It took about an hour to sew the panties, and by the end Sissy was sewing faster and neater than Rayla, who had sewing engrained into her skillset as a Dolly. In fact it was Sissy who decided that her early stitching was too sloppy, and made Rayla teach her how to remove the bad work, and then she repaired it. When they were done, Sissy proudly pulled on the pair she had made herself, and put the ones made by Rayla on her shelf.

The bra was too complicated to finish quickly, so Rayla next cut out the nightgown, which would be looser than the dress that would be made out of the red, and thus easier to cut. Rayla cut out the pieces, and the two women worked on sewing the front and back together. They had the garment done in a few hours, and Sissy proudly put it on just before the evening stop. Emily had found the sewing boring after the first few minutes, so Rayla had Stone take her over to Kalosun, who was less than pleased at having a second pupil, but didn’t complain, since he had promised that he would teach both of the kids the Kithren ways.

When the wagons pulled into a circle for the camp, Rayla discovered that Sissy’s old clothes were not worth saving, and the girl did not want to get out of her new garment. School would be in the afternoon, and sewing in the morning tomorrow, Rayla decided. Emily squealed with glee at seeing Sissy in her new clothes, to the older girl’s pride and delight.

After the evening stew, the girls got out their dolls, and Sissy got some of the trimmings of materials, and wrapped them around the dolls, sewing a few stitches to make crude clothes for the carved toys. Emily was delighted with her new friends handiwork, and Sissy was pleased to be able to something that others could not.

After the meal Rayla took Kalosun aside and removed his bandages. There were scars forming where she had stitched the cuts together, but blood was no longer seeping out. But when she asked the black man to squeeze his hands together, he was unable to. He told her there was no pain when he did so, but he was unable to even wiggle his fingers.

Rayla frowned and told him to leave the bandages off until after breakfast, to give the wounds a chance to get some air. She would put clean bandages on after breakfast. Kalosun smiled: perhaps he could eat his porridge without assistance in the morning.

At story time that night Sissy nestled up next to Stone immediately. The stories were all new to her, and she listened with delight, which was amplified when Daisy laid her head on the girl’s lap the same way Steel did on Jason’s.

Later she confidently walked to the other caravan and crawled into her makeshift bed, proudly wearing her new nightgown. This night Rayla managed to get a good night’s sleep, confident that the kids were safe and secure in the new caravan.

In the morning she got up with Stone, and was able to go to the latrine while he got the kids up. As she was coming out of the latrine the girls were racing to get in first, and Sissy’s longer legs paid off, so Emily had to do a little dance until it was her turn to go in.

When the breakfast was brought out Kalosun tried to eat on his own. He only had a bit of trouble holding the bowl in his hands, but was completely unable to hold or manipulate the spoon. After three tries that resulted in the spoon falling to the floor, he let Rayla spoon the food into his mouth, although he insisted on holding the bowl.

He led Emily and Jason to the new caravan, while Rayla and Sissy stayed in the old one, getting out the bolt of red material. Rayla measured Sissy in several directions with a tape made from scratch material from the nightdress, and then started to sketch out pieces with chalk on the material, cutting and then holding pieces up to the girl’s body to check for size and potential fit. It was to be a simple dress, and Sissy did most of the sewing, with Rayla only putting in pleats and darts when needed. She spent most of her time on the bra, which didn’t take much of the pink material. She got out one of her spare bras that the seamstresses in Greenstone had made. It was not a direct correlation, since the cups on her bra were far bigger than Sissy would need.

By the evening, Sissy was in her new dress, and practically glowed in pride. The bra must have been comfortable as well. The result was that Sissy went to the fire with Stone, Emily, O’Breyne and Jason for the first time, while Rayla and Kalosun ate in the caravan. The man did not want people to see him being spoon-fed by a woman. Sissy looked around at all the men at the fire, many of whom were starting to look a little rough several days into the trip. But she felt safe sitting between the two men she trusted and Jason went up to the dinner pot to get her a helping of stew, which she ate slowly. The men took turns going to the pot, so she was never alone. O’Breyne was first to finish eating, and hurried off to the caravan with meals for Rayla and Kalosun.

After they all went back to the caravan, Rayla again looked at Kalosun’s wounds, and found that while they hurt less, he was still unable to move his fingers. “I think we need to take you to a healer in Greenford,” she said. “Something isn’t right.”

Kalosun didn’t say anything, but wondered if there was a big cliff nearby he could throw himself off from if his hands wouldn’t heal. He had no interest in living if he had to be fed like a baby. He decided to wait and see what the next healer said.

The wagon train reached Greenford just after noon the next day. The wagons regularly traveled back and forth delivering coal to the three towns (Greenwood, Greenford and Three Rivers, formerly Sarn). The men were allowed to spend the night in the tavern at the middle stop, and even though Stone and his family were staying in the caravans, the men spent the afternoon and evening drinking in the tavern, and then sleeping four to a room after they got properly drunk.

Stone went into town with Rayla and Kalosun. Stone had to sell the four wagons of coal assigned to the town, and the others were in search of a healer. They also stopped at the bakery for fresh rolls. The train had eaten the last ones from Greenstone at the stop last night, and they were slightly stale.

“No eggs today,” the clerk said as they walked into the shop. “The problems yesterday mean we only have enough for tomorrow’s baking.”

“What problems are those?” Stone asked. “We just got into town today.”

“Oh, then you wouldn’t know, would you? There are a couple of boys from the hatchery just outside of town that bring eggs into town. They sell us what we need, and we let them have a little stand outside the store to sell the rest to the townspeople. One of the boys was beaten up pretty badly, but two others from the farm came by today with a few eggs for us, but none to sell. They just cleaned up what was left of the stand.”

“That is terrible,” Rayla said. “Is anyone doing anything about it?”

“Not really. You see the boys are Kithren, and there are some who don’t like those people. We find them fine to deal with: honest and friendly. But some people would rather not have them in town. I’m surprised that no one has said anything about your man.” She glanced at Kalosun.

They made a large order, cleaning the bakery out of rolls, getting enough for the next camp on the way to Three Rivers. They put the buns into a backpack on Kalosun, who was glad to be helpful for a change.

“We also need to know if there is a healer in town,” Rayla said. Kalosun held out his bandaged hands.

“Well, there is a white woman in town, but she isn’t so good. The best healer for miles is Old Missa, about five miles out of town,” the clerk said, giving them directions.

Rayla then went to the fabric store, where she was allowed to buy a bolt of white cotton, after telling Stone his next set of underwear was going to be pink otherwise.

“He will have to wait outside,” the store clerk said, pointing at Kalosun. “We don’t allow Niggers in the store.”

Rayla and Stone were stunned at the language. Rayla had been called the term many times when she was a black man in 1950s Cleveland. Stone was from a time when just saying the N-word was considered racist. As well, Saskatchewan is almost an entirely white province, with most of the blacks there members of his football team. “Can I speak with your manager,” Stone asked, intending to have the clerk chastised.

The clerk returned with a man Stone knew. He was the owner of the cloth mill, and a member of the town council. But his first words on entering his shop were: “Get that nigger out of my store.” So much for chastising the clerk.

“If he leaves, then we leave too, and we will buy no more from this store,” Stone said.

“I’m sorry Captain,” the mill owner said, “We didn’t say anything about your son, but we don’t want any more of those people in town. The council has passed regulations so none can move in. There is one family just outside of town, that is out of our jurisdiction, and that is more than enough.”

“You mean you have turned away Kithren families who wanted to settle here?”

“Yeah, there were about one a week during the troubles in Sarn or whatever they’re calling it now. We sent them packing. Most went on up to Greenwood, or took places in the country. Good riddance.”

“That is horrible,” Stone said. “We are going to spend a few days in town, I think. I want to talk to the town council tomorrow. We are headed out to the healer today.” He turned to Rayla. “You can get your supplies in Three Rivers when we get there. None of my money will stop in this place.” With that the three of them left the store.

As they walked back to the caravan they paid attention to the looks they were getting. Only about one in 10 people had looks of disgust while others had neutral expressions, or even smiled at the three. At the camp Rayla got her horse, while Stone lifted Kalosun onto Doug, and then got on behind him. The black man’s hands could not hold reins to ride. The three checked that the kids were fine with O’Breyne, with Sissy and Emily staring at the man in awe as he slowly whittled another stick of wood into a doll. Jason was bored, and begged his parents to allow him to accompany them. He crawled up on the horse in front of his mother, and the horses headed off in the directions the bakery clerk had given to the healer in the country.

They arrived at a small hovel, with an ancient-looking black woman sitting on a rocking chair in front. She stood as they approached, and came forward when Stone lifted Kalosun down.

“A man of the people,” she said. “With injured hands.”

She unwrapped the bandages, muttering to herself as she examined the wounds. “Good stitching. Five or six days of healing so far. No muscle control. These hands will never work again. Unless we can repair.”

She looked up at Stone. “The muscles are severed. The healer who sewed up the wounds did a good job, but did not connect the muscles again. If I go in again – reopen the wounds – I might be able to make the connections. I need a special poultice but I am short some ingredients. Toadwort, Bailee’s Lace, Cromfall and St. Arno’s bern, and a few others.”

“I know those weeds,” Kalosun said. “I saw Toadwort a half mile back, on the way in. But I cannot dig. Will you allow the boy to accompany me to dig them up? He needs to know how to find those plants for his training anyway.”

Stone pondered for a moment. There was small chance of the wounded man trying to flee, when he was on the verge of a possible cure. “Do you want to go with him?” he asked Jason.

“Yes please. I like learning new things from him. Things that the people should know.”

The two left, heading back to where the Toadwort was, while looking for the other items. They were gone a half-hour, and Rayla was just starting to worry when Arthur reassured her that they were headed back.

The old woman had not been idle during this time, having stoked a fire and arranged jars holding ingredients she had on hand. Rayla had been helping her throughout, and wanted to observe the operation, in case she needed to heal one of her loved ones someday.

Stone had also been busy. The woman said she needed two fresh twigs of beechwood, about 10 inches long and very straight, with no knots. Stone found some quickly, only to be told they were no good: not straight enough. In the end it was his fourth try before she accepted the sticks, telling him to strip them of bark and then taper the ends to a point, somewhat like a flat screwdriver blade. She then had him split the tip along the long point two thirds of the way up the length of the twig.

While all this was happening, the crone was mixing herbs in a pestle. She stopped, bent down, and picked up a small stone, and then wedged it into the split in the twig. She squeezed the end, and Stone realized that she had made a wooden pair of tweezers. She dropped the stick into a pot of boiling water, and told Stone to do the same with the other.

Kalosun sat down in a chair in front of the woman, and she looked again at the wound on his left hand. “This would work better if we had the weapon that made the wound,” she said as she took a small knife to slit the stitches that Rayla had made days earlier.

“We do have it,” Stone said, and Jason stood forward, holding his knife. As Stone explained what happened, Jason showed how he had twisted the knife. The healer then surprised everyone, including Kalosun when she slapped the man hard in the back of his head. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she accused. “You injured yourself. If you slapped the blade hard enough to grab it again, you must have cut to the bone. It is a very sharp knife.”

While this was happening, Rayla was removing the stitches, as instructed by Missa. The crone took the knife from the boy, hefting it as though she was familiar with it as a weapon. Then she laid the blade along the wound, and started to cut, reopening it at the same spot.

Kalosun winced, shutting his eyes. The woman thrust the largest of the sticks that Stone had found and been rejected, into his mouth and he bit into it against the pain. The old woman saw tears forming in his eyes, and got a cup to catch them. She handed Rayla a cup for the other eye, and then made her hold both while she picked one of the tweezers from the fire, and started to probe into the wound. Kalosun moaned, and the tears came faster.

“Shut up, idiot,” she snapped at him. “You are Kithren. Act like one. We know it hurts. It will hurt more. Silence.” The moans stopped as Kalosun bit harder into the stick. The tears did not stop, and may have increased. Rayla caught them all, wondering why she needed to do so.

“See?” the healer told her as she probed the wound. “It is as I thought. He sliced right to the bone. See the nicks there and there?” Rayla could barely see through the flowing blood. “The inner parts are split, and your stitches did not unite them. I will use this stick to move the pieces together. They may heal. Only the Sun goddess can be sure. Give me the cups.”

She poured the cups, each a quarter full, into the poultice she was making, occasionally sniffing the mixture. When she deemed it was ready she had Rayla sniff it. “That is what it needs to smell like. It is a powerful healing mixture.” She then daubed a generous amount into the wound and pulled the sides together. She got out a thread and a needle, but handed them to Rayla. “You sew well. Stitch the wound up, and use stitches twice as close as last time.” She looked at Stone, and shook her head sadly, muttering “too big for fine work.” She turned to Jason. “Boy can you take the cups and gather more tears? We will need them for the other hand.”

So Jason squirmed in next to Rayla, and held out the cups as the woman repeated her actions on the second hand. She grabbed the second tweezers, saying: “I don’t know why, but it works better if I boil them.”

“I know why,” Stone said.

“What does a man know about healing?” the crone spat out.

“There are tiny little bugs, so small that you can’t see them. When they get into a wound, they grow. Not bigger, but more and more of them. The wound festers and smells bad. The boiling water kills the bugs, so the infection doesn’t happen.”

Kalosun moaned again. “Stop that,” she snapped. “Weakling.” Then she turned back to Stone. “So boiling helps. It works for wood tools, and metal ones. But sometimes I need to put a finger into a wound. I cannot boil my finger, can I?”

“No, but there are other ways to sterilize things. For your hand, you could use whisky. It tends to kill the germs as well.”

“I don’t know many of the words you say,” the healer said. “But it makes sense. I will try whisky. In childbirth I sometimes have to put my hands in to turn the baby. Many times the mother dies. I will use your whisky next time. There.” The latter word was to announce the second wound was done, and Rayla, who had just finished sewing the first hand moved to stitch up the other. The crone took much of the remaining poultice and spread it on top of the first wound.

“This one will take longer to heal,” she said. “The new tears the boy gathered make the second part of the poultice stronger.” She wrapped a bandage around the first hand as Rayla sewed the second, and then spread poultice over it, and wrapped it. Kalosun finally opened his eyes, and spit out the wood, nearly chewed through.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thank the goddess if you heal,” she replied. “You may heal, or not. Even if one hand heals you will not be a cripple. And stop slapping at knife blades.”

Suddenly there was a loud moan, coming from inside the hut. “That is my other patient,” she said, and went back into the hut. Rayla followed her.

“He was beaten in the town yesterday,” the woman said as she changed a damp cloth on the head of the boy. Rayla could see that the lad was badly beaten, with many purple bruises on his dark skin. Rayla gasped when she saw how badly the boy was beaten.

“One leg and one arm broken,” the healer said. “And many ribs. He was kicked as well as punched. Broken nose, and hits to both eyes. He will be with me for at least a week, maybe three.”

Rayla flashed back to when Ray in Cleveland had been set on and beaten. She commiserated with the boy, who looked about 10.

Rayla popped out and looked at Stone, who stuck his head and big shoulders into the tiny hut to see. He came out with a pale face.

“This happened yesterday?” he asked.

“Yes. The boy was my egg lad,” she said. “His mother runs the hatchery, and every week or too they bring me eggs. I help with births at her house, and supply a solution for her oldest daughter, to keep her from having a baby. She works at a whorehouse in the town. So the eggs pay for the boy’s care.”

“Oh yes,” Stone said. “What do we owe you?”

“Well, your woman helped, and the man and the boys restocked my herb supplies. Is three silver too much?”

“I think this is more appropriate,” Stone said, pulling a gold out of his money sack.

“For that you can leave the man with me for a month,” she said. “But he doesn’t need it. Just take him to where he can get a good meal. Kithren food is best, not that pap they serve in town. The family of the boy in the hut lives on the way back to town. They might feed him, and the rest of you, if you treat them politely.”

The four got on the two horses, with Kalosun riding with Stone on Doug again, and Jason riding in front of his mother on the other horse. They rode back towards town, looking closely for the lane that the healer had described for them. Knowing what to look for made it clear, and they turned down to follow the lane about a half mile, where they could see a smallish house, with the sounds of the hatchery coming from a larger barn behind, and chickens filling the yard. They dismounted, tethering Rayla’s horse to a post close to a water trough and some good grass. Doug, as normal, was allowed to roam.

Chapter 32

There was a woman sitting on the porch: old, but nowhere nearly as old as the Missa. A young girl popped her head out of the door, then vanished back inside. A few moments later, two teen boys came out, each holding a piece of lumber menacingly. A smaller boy, Jason’s age, followed, with a pronounced limp and just peered between his older brothers.

“Two of the people, and two whites,” the old lady said. “An odd combination, in these parts.”

Jason stood in front of Stone, fingering his knife in reaction to the boys. Stone just put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “This is my son,” Stone said. “My adopted son. The other of your race is … a friend … who we just took to the healer up the road.”

“Kinny? Did you see Kinny there? How is he?” the woman asked anxiously.

“He is sorely hurt,” Stone said. “But he is being well looked after. I hope to find those who did that to him. Can someone here tell me what happened?”

“I can,” the boy with a limp said, moving to the front. “I was there, and got knocked around some, though not as bad as Kinny. We were taking eggs to the bakery, and then we set up outside, like normal. About a dozen boys … teens, bigger that either of us, came along and said ‘we don’t want your kind around here.’ First they broke all the eggs we had, then they took the money we got from the bakery. Momma needs that money to buy food. For us and the birds.”

“The boys would have kilt Kinny, and then started on me. They were kicking him mostly when the bakery man came out and chased them all away. He had two of his workers take Kinny back here to the house on a stretcher, and when Momma saw him she said for them to take him to the healer. I don’t know what we are gonna do if we can’t sell our eggs in town. My brothers and I and going to take them in tomorrow, but I don’t know if the two of them can handle that gang.”

“Don’t worry. And your brothers look like they know how to handle themselves. A few swats from those sticks and the gang will split up. They are bullies, and bullies don’t like fighting when they might be the ones getting hurt. I will keep an eye out for you when I am in town tomorrow.”

“Put down the sticks, boys,” the old lady said. “These are friends. Can you all stay for supper?”

“Yes ma’am,” Stone said. “This is my wife, Rayla, and she would be proud to help out in your kitchen. The man is Kalosun, and as you can see he is wounded, but we hope now that he will recover. The healer said some good Kithren food would help.”

Rayla went into the kitchen, where three girls, from Jason’s age up to a girl in her mid teens seemed to be in charge. They were shy at first, but Rayla’s friendly manner soon had them all working together.

Stone asked the boys if he could see the hatchery. Jason tagged along, walking alongside Korry, the boy with the limp. They were the same age, and quickly bonded. The older boys proudly showed Stone the hatchery, which was mainly rows of roosts for the birds, who spent most of the day roaming the property, scratching for food. The boys spread some grain about, and said that summer rations were about a third of winter, when the birds seldom left the roosts. In summer quite a bit of the birds’ food consisted of bugs and grasses that they foraged.

Each morning eggs were gathered, and of the 200 birds there was usually 180 eggs, which were sold for six-pence a dozen to the towns people, and a lower rate for the bakery, which bought five dozen for two silver. The birds were on different cycles, the boys explained, so that there was no dormant period when only young chicks were growing. Older birds were culled, two per week, to provide the only meat the family ate, or needed.

That evening the table was set, and supper was ready when a beautiful teenager walked up the lane, accompanied by a white boy of about the same age. Stone thought he recognized the boy, but couldn’t place him.

“Here momma,” the girl said, dropping some coins in her mother’s lap after kissing her. “It wasn’t a great week, but not bad.”

“We has company,” the old woman said.

“I see,” the girl said, walking over to Korry and giving the boy a sisterly hug. “How are you? And how is Kinny?”

“Not good,” Korry said. “But the visitors said the healer told them he will be okay when the bones heal up. How did you know what happened?”

“It was the talk of the town yesterday,” the girl said. “The other girls in the house said all their customers were talking about it. Most were shocked and angry, a few were glad it happened. I didn’t have any customers. Friday’s are for Willy. She looked up lovingly at the white man beside her.”

Stone gathered from the conversation that the girl worked in one of the whorehouses in the town. Over dinner she learned that Willy was her only customer on Friday, and on Saturdays she brought him home to the family dinner. Other days of the week she got business from men who wanted the exotic experience of a Kithren woman: particularly one as beautiful as Kali. Stone had seen Kalosun glare at Willy when he entered. But he ate in the kitchen with one of the younger girls feeding him, so supper was not ruined by his apparent dislike of a white man with a Kithren lover.

The meal was exquisite. Rayla and Stone had never eaten such food, and the taste compared with Chef’s work at the restaurant in Greenstone. The closest Stone could place the food was a mixture of Mexican and Greek that worked exceptionally well together. Rayla had never eaten ethnic food on Earth, so she was just amazed at the tastes. Even Jason liked it, sitting next to his new best friend, Korry, giggling as the two chatted to each other.

Over dinner the discussion ventured into Konna, the eldest daughter still in the house (not counting Kali) who had cooked the meal. She was nearing the age of leaving the house, and apparently was considering joining Kali in that trade. Kali was against it.

Rayla came up with another alternative. She suggested that Konna go apprentice to the healer up the road and learn as much healing as she could while the old woman lived. The mother thought seriously about it.

“It would be an honorable profession,” she said. “But would the healer be able to support her? She needn’t get a salary. Her payment would be the lore she learns.”

Stone reached into his money sack and pulled out three coins. He placed a gold on the table. Take this to the old woman. I will give her one of these every year as payment for teaching you. And these two,” he dropped two silver on the table, “are for the best meal I’ve had in years.”

“You are guests,” the mother objected. “You don’t pay.”

“Don’t you see,” Stone said. “Your food is unique around here. I know you think it is only staple Kithren fare, but people would pay for it. If you could have four guests each night, at a silver per pair, you would make another 10 or 12 silver a week.”

“Then I could stop working in that place,” Kali said. She turned to Willy: “We could marry.”

“Not with my father the way he is,” Willy said. “He’d fire me from the mill, and disown me.” It suddenly clicked for Stone who the boy was. The resemblance to the mill owner who had kicked them out of the fabric store was uncanny. Clearly this was his son, and just as clearly he didn’t have the same racist tendencies.

“Your father is on the town council?” Stone asked. The boy nodded.

“I am meeting them tomorrow. I hope to be able to get some of this prejudice eased up. It is clear that not all the people of the town are against Kithren’s. Only a few seem to be leading the hatred.”

“Yes, my father and my younger brother among them.”

“You will stay the night?” the older woman asked. “We don’t have room, but …”

“No, we must leave. We have a daughter back at the camp, she is half-Kithren,” Rayla said.

“May I stay?” Kalosun asked Stone. “I could sleep in the coop if there is no room in the house.”

“You don’t need to ask me,” Stone replied. “I am not your master or boss. Can you survive without our help? Ask the lady for permission.” He looked at the woman.

“Of course he can stay,” she said with a smile. “But I insist that you bring the little girl next time. She deserves to know what Kithren food tastes like.”

“Done,” Rayla said. “And I need another day in your kitchens with your daughters. I know I won’t be able to reach their levels, but I would like to be able to make some of those wonderful dishes for my family from time to time.

The boys helped Kalosun make a bed in the coop while Jason, Stone and Rayla mounted up to head back to the camp.

Another fairly long chapter: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 33 – Race Riots

The following morning, Stone went into Greenford, riding Doug. Jason rode along with him. Rayla spent time with the children, including Sissy, who she was starting to think of as a second daughter. Sissy wanted to sew: it was the only thing she was good at, and this boosted her esteem. Rayla had her teach Emily to sew, by making clothes for her dolls from scrap. Normally Emily, only four, didn’t have the patience to sew, but when it was for doll clothes, she had more enthusiasm.

In town in the early dawn, Stone went first to the bakery, which was not open yet. But he popped in the back, and spoke to the baker to learn that the boys with their eggs would come in about an hour. He also asked for a larger order of rolls, enough to get his men to Three Rivers. And finally he told the baker about the fantastic meal they had at the Kithren house the night before. He suggested that he find another couple and try the place out, but not tonight: Stone expected his family would be eating there.

He was still talking when the boys arrived with the eggs. There were three of them: the older two and young Korry, who was surprised to meet his young friend, Jason. The four boys went outside, with Stone following soon.

There was a lineup for eggs, since many of their regular customers had missed them on the past two days. For a while it looked like there would be no problems, and Stone and Doug walked around the downtown that was just starting to wake up. Then Stone saw a group of white teen boys heading straight for the egg stands. A few more joined in when they saw the others.

“Lookit,” one boy said. “We told you not to come ‘round here. Do you need another lesson? The two older black boys went to the back of their stall and picked up their sturdy sticks. This caused the white boys to falter a bit, and Stone, riding up behind them saw several of the youngsters veer away from the mob. A bit of fun was one thing, but this was starting to look serious.

Even so there were more than a dozen there. One teen noticed that all but a few dozen eggs were sold but the customers, who had scattered when they saw trouble coming. “Looks like there aren’t many eggs to smash,” another lad said. “But I guess that means we’ll have more money to split up.”

The boys with sticks moved to the front of the stall. Alone they couldn’t stop 12 boys their age or older, but they were willing to take some lumps to pay the boys back for what they had done to Kinny two days earlier.

Stone moved into position behind the boys. His son Jason was in there, fingering his knife and protecting Korry. “Alright boys, I think it’s time for you to move along,” Stone said in his deepest voice. Another two boys veered away from the group.

“My dad is on the town council,” one boy said. “You can’t stop us.”

“I beg to differ on that,” Stone said, drawing Pate. He noticed that he didn’t go into battle mode. When half the boys fled, Stone flicked the sword. He hit the two boys who were mouthy and seemed to be ringleaders, but with the flat of the blade. Even so, the flat of Pate knocked the boys ten feet in either direction, and they were unconscious.

“Take these cretins to the healer,” Stone told the other boys, who had stepped away once their leaders had been taken out of action. They had four boys take each of the unconscious ones, and hauled them away.

Soon it appeared that the last group to run away and gone to get the patrol, and two soldiers appeared with swords drawn. “Is there any trouble here?” asked one. Stone recognized him as one of the soldiers he had led in the attacks against Kona last year.

“No trouble,” Stone said. “Just some of the town boys getting out of line a bit. I think they were the ones that attacked the egg boys the other day. You’ll find them down at the healer’s if you want to clear that up.

“Can’t,” the soldier said. “Town council told us to let that episode lay.”

Residents started to return for eggs, buying up the last few dozens. The boys had put down their sticks, and gladly waited on their customers, selling out before Stone had finished speaking with the soldier, who was glad that the big man was not in a fighting mood. He had seen Stone fight Kona, and was pretty sure that even if all eight soldiers were present, Stone would defeat them.

“Dad, can I go to the house with Konny?” Jason asked. “I heard you say that we were going to have supper there. We can play till then.”

Stone agreed. He had a meeting with the town council at 10, and if it ran long, the boy would be bored. Besides, Kalosun was already at the house, and might give the boys some lessons in Kithren culture.

A few minutes before 10, Stone noticed students running from the school building, gleeful that their lunch was two hours early, thanks to a town council building. Doug headed to the newly vacated building to meet with the council.

The first person he found in the building was Vilmer Zephyr, owner of the textile mill, and the textile store that had forced Rayla, Stone and Kalosun out the day before. When Vilmer saw Stone, his face got red, and he shouted to the two soldiers who had followed Stone into the building: “Arrest that man. He assaulted my son this morning. The boy is still unconscious at the healer’s.”

The soldier took a step forward, as if to obey, then a step back, seeing that it was Stone he was being ordered to arrest. He looked at his partner, and then at Stone, clearly in a quandary. Stone finally put him out of his misery: “Those two men decided not to arrest me earlier today when I stopped your son and his thugs from assaulting a local business endeavor. They clearly did not wish to die today at the end of my sword, and I presume that is still their intention. Perhaps we can let the whole council decide what to do.”

“I run the council,” Vilmer shouted. “And it pays the salary for these men. The boys were just chasing niggers out of town. Nothing wrong with that. You had no right to interfere. Arrest him.”

“The town pays them to chase bogus tax collectors out of town, and to escort drunks home or to the cells when they are a bit out of control. They are not paid enough to die on my sword, and both of these, and the other six, saw in action during the war with Kona. I doubt if all eight were here they would take me on: most would die, possibly all of them. If you wish to get a sword, you are welcome to take me on yourself.”

“I am a businessman, not a soldier,” Vilmer ranted. “The council will do as I tell them.”

While the man was shouting, other members of the council had arrived, and several got shocked looks on their faces at the mill-owner’s assertion that they were his patsies.

“I think it is time we call the meeting to order,” a weedy looking man said, taking the chair at the head of the table.

“I want to add items to the agenda,” Vilmer said. “First, we need to deal with the soldiers, who have been failing their duty. Then I wish to expel Mr. Stone from our town, and banish his from every returning, as a result of his interference.”

“A motion has been made to add to the agenda. Mr. Stone is already on the agenda, so I deem that portion of the request unnecessary. Who seconds the motion to discuss the soldiers?” the mayor said.

For a few minutes no councilor spoke, and Vilmer got hotter and hotter, until finally one man seconded the motion. The mayor called a vote, and two men rose their hands timidly in favor. The other three, mad that Vilmer said he alone ran the council, kept their hands down, and the mill owner stared them down, as if he was building an enemies list.

“That item is added to the end of the agenda, assuming the seconder and the mover are in agreement. Carried four to three. Mr. Stone: you are the first item on the agenda.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Mayor. “I was dismayed yesterday to be evicted from a local business, one owned by councilor Vitmer here, because I had a Kithren man with me. As you all know, my son is Kithren, and my daughter half-Kithren. I also learned that Kithren settlers coming to the town are denied entry and sent on to Greenwood. This must stop, immediately.”

At this point steam was nearly coming out of Vilmer’s ears, and he leapt to his feet.

“The law against niggers was passed by this council several months ago. What right do you have to demand that it be changed? You have no standing in this town. You are not even a resident.”

Stone stared at the man for a long moment, until he wilted under the glare of the giant and sat meekly down. “You are right, I am not a resident. But I seem to recall that the town was in a bad state before I first came. Taxes by the duke were draining the economy. Bandits appeared soon after. I left eight soldiers here, and the tax collecting and banditry stopped. I rather felt that my contributions to what is now a booming town would be remembered, but perhaps not.”

Stone continued. “However, you may have noticed that when I came to town a few days ago, four wagons of coal were left here. I have the sole license to ship coal from Greenstone to the lower valley. I believe one of those wagons went straight to Mr. Vilmer’s mill. The others will be shared by the townspeople. Have you considered how you will power your mill without coal, Mr. Vilmer?”

“There is wood,” Vilmer said bravely.

“Yes, wood that is currently being used to build new buildings in the town. I guess there will be no need for new buildings if the coal stops coming: the town starts to die. But wood costs three times what coal does, and when winter comes and people are forced to heat their homes with wood, that price will skyrocket. Your mill will need several more employees just to feed your furnaces with wood. Are you doing so well that you can afford that, Mr. Vilmer?”

The mill owner was silent. Stone knew that his business would no longer be profitable, especially if Stone was not shipping his textiles out of the town. He could still sell them, but not at such a good price.

“So this is my proposal to the council,” Stone said. “I will be back here in a couple months, bringing small coin for the town, which I understand is in short supply. By that time I want the law barring Kithrens removed, and I expect to see at least two families of that race living here. You will no longer chase them away, but instead will have to beg them to stay, if you want coal from my wagons, or a way to sell your goods cheaply.”

“And there is a second request I have to make. In Greenstone we have free health care. Anyone can go to the clinic and be treated free of charge. Those with money often provide the healers with extra coin, what we called a tip back where Rayla and I come from. I want the town to consider making payments to the healers in this area as well. I am uncertain what the local woman should get, but I recommend eight silver a week for the healer out of town. I have seen her work, and was impressed by her abilities.”

“She’s a nigger,” Vilmer lept to his feet. “No nigger deserves eight silver a week. I only pay my top men that.”

“Well, that is my proposal, gentlemen.” Stone said. “As I say, I expect things to be changed when I return.”

“Wait,” Vilmer shouted, still on his feet from the last outburst. “This man assaulted my son and his friends today. He must be put on trial.”

“Your son and his thugs were attacking the egg sellers. Again.” Stone said. “I merely ended their attack. I agree that I hit your son rather hard, but these soldiers can attest to what would have happened if I had not used the flat of my blade.”

“Decapitation,” one of the soldiers said.

“And I doubt that your healer could have done much to heal that kind of wound,” Stone said, turning and walking out of the building.

“After him,” Vilmer shouted at the soldiers. “Bring him back. We are not done with him.”

“Is that the wish of the entire council?” the soldier said. “Because I will resign my position rather than face his sword.” The members of the council looked down, and refused to look at Vilmer.

“I declare that a motion,” the mayor said. “Is there a seconder?” Again no reaction for a minute, and the mayor was about to declare the motion lost for want of a second, when the same man who had seconded the motion on the agenda raised his hand. This time the vote was 5-2 against.

Stone was on the street by then, and he saw Vilmer’s son, with a bandage around his head, stumble out of what the big man assumed was the healer’s house. The boy glared at him, but did not approach. Stone checked and found the egg sellers were gone, so he mounted Doug and headed towards the wagon train camp. There he met Rayla and Emily, and a proud Sissy who waved several pairs of underpants she had sewn for him and Jason, not realizing that waving underwear from the steps of the caravan was not good manners. But Stone merely thanked her, and gave her a kiss on the forehead, the first time he had kissed her. He had noticed a longing look in her eyes when he kissed his daughter, and she swelled with pride at the mark of recognition and affection.

In the early evening the wagon train packed up and headed towards Three Rivers, or Old Sarn as many of the drovers called it. The caravans veered off when it came to the junction to the hatchery: Stone and his family had been invited for another Kithren feast. Kaloson and Jason were already there. They would all catch up with the wagons at the camp that night.

At the house in front of the hatchery, the mother of the family was again sitting on the porch. When the family came out, there were smiles of friendship this time around. The two dogs of the Stones were kept in the caravans: they had not been raised to deal with all the chickens running around like the Kithren dogs were. Stone was told that the hatchery dogs were kept with chicks as pups, and as the birds grew into hens, the dogs would protect them, but never harm them.

Emily was immediately swept up by the mother: if her daughter Kali and her white boyfriend ever had children, they would look like Emily. And it didn’t hurt when Emily started to call the woman ‘Grandma.’

The meal was as good as the prior one, or better, since the family knew that Stone would pay for the meal, and they didn’t need to stint. The egg boys had bought buns from the bakery, but there was Kithren sweets for starters. Kallopaws were somewhat like the pastries from the Greenstone bakeries, but with a flaky dough and drenched in honey. Jason, the family expert on sweets, pronounced them perfect, and begged Rayla to learn to make them. Kalosun beamed with pride when the boy showed that he enjoyed a traditional food of his people. He was also proud to be able to hold a spoon, albeit clumsily, and was able to eat for himself at the main table instead of being fed in the kitchen.

Stone’s family was about to leave, and take the caravans after the wagons, when the Kithren dogs started barking alarmingly. The chickens were all in their coops, so Stone told Jason to get Steel and Daisy out, but to keep them close.

All the men from the dinner went outside and headed to the north side of the house, near the coop. Through the trees Stone could see many torches, and quickly realized what this was. There were over a dozen men with torches, approaching in spite of the dogs barking at them. If a dog came too close, a man would use his torch to force it back.

Stone got Doug and Pate, telling the boys from the hatchery to get old blankets from the barn and douse them with water. Korry and Jason went with the older boys, and got a blanket each.

Stone rode up until he was about 20 yards in front of the men and yelled for them to halt. They did, mostly, although two men kept coming.

“There’s going to be roast chicken tonight,” a voice Stone recognized shouted. “And then roast nigger next.” It was Vilmer at the center of the men and one of the ones still edging forward.

“And look, nigger-lover. Your precious soldiers are with us. All eight of them. They’ll make sure we don’t fail.”

The eight men on horseback came from the rear through the torchbearers. But they didn’t seem to be in attack formation. Instead four lined up each either side of Stone and turned to face the torches. “We followed you to ensure safety of the town,” the sergeant shouted. “But now we are outside of town limits, so we feel free to fight with Stone again.”

This caused some of the men to waver. Most were employees of Vilmer’s mill, and had been urged to participate by their boss. But Vilmer was not to be swayed by the apparent change in allegiance. He stepped forward and thrust his torch in Doug’s face, expecting the horse to give way. It didn’t.

But Stone pulled his sword and immediately was in battle mode. The sword swung, and suddenly Vilmer was astonished to see his torch fall to the ground. Then he saw his hand and arm were still holding it. Blood gushed from the wound on his shoulder, where his arm had once been attached. He fell to the ground.

Another man rushed at Stone, and his fate was worse: he sword went through his neck, and head and arm both toppled to the ground.

“The rest of you: I can do this all day. If you would rather not lose an arm, or your head, throw down your torches.” Almost every torch was thrown onto the ground. “All right boys,” Stone turned part way around. “Your time to shine. Use the blankets to put out the torches and any fires they are starting.”

“Arrest as many as you can,” he said to the sergeant. Doug helped in the process, plowing into at least five men trying to run away: knocking them down.

Korry and Jason were near the lane, putting out one of the torches. Of course, staring at the fire destroyed their night vision, so they barely recognized the man who had tossed the torch as he jumped towards Korry. The boy stumbled back as the man said: “At least one nigger will die tonight.”

But as he tried to stab Korry with his small hand knife, Jason had pulled his much larger knife, and stuck it in the man’s ribs. The man screamed, and Jason twisted the blade, as both Stone and Kalosun had taught him.

Stone heard the scream and headed towards it, telling the sergeant to have four of the prisoners take Vilmer to the healer up the road.

“Not to the nigger,” the barely conscious man cried as Stone rode away. “Take me to town.”

Stone heard sobbing in the forest, and found the two boys and the dead man. It was the town councilor who had supported Vilmer in the meeting. Jason’s knife was still in his gut. Each boy was sobbing, with Jason tightly holding Steel. He had wounded his birth father, but this was different. He had killed a man for the first time. Stone got down to hug the boy, who clung to the big man. “I kilt him, Dad,” Jason moaned. “I had to. He was gonna kill Korry.”

“You did good, boy,” Stone said, reaching over and pulling the knife from the body. “Here is your knife. You’ll want to clean it later.”

“I don’t think I want to be a soldier anymore,” Jason sobbed. “It is too hard.”

Jason picked up both boys, and put them on Doug, who walked them back to the house, with the dogs along side.

Back at the house, the older boys had finished putting out all the fires and were reporting back to their mother. When Stone approached, she rushed out to hug the big man. “The boys say you saved us,” she gushed. “How will we ever thank you.”

“With your friendship,” Stone said, but just then the woman noticed her boy on the horse.

“Korry? Is he hurt,” she cried.

“No Ma,” the boy said as Stone helped him to the ground. “Thanks to Jason. A man tried to stab me, but Jason got to him first. He’s my best friend forever.”

Stone had let Jason down next, and Rayla rushed up. “This one needs his mother,” the big man said. “He made his first kill tonight and that is never easy.”

He turned to the black woman: “Do you mind if we leave the caravans here tonight? I think we will need to go back to town tomorrow.”

“Tonight, or forever if you need to. We are in your debt.”

A shorter chapter to wind up the Racism arc: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 34 – Judgment

The first thing that was done at dawn was to send a message to the wagon train, who would have expected the caravans to catch up to them by the night camp. Rayla wrote a note on a sheet of paper that said: “Delayed. Continue into Three Rivers/Sarn. Will catch up tomorrow.” The note was tied to Arthur’s leg, with a string he could pluck with his beak, so it would fall to be seen by the wagoneers.

With that done, the caravans headed to Greenford, carrying a few extra guests. The egg boys and their wares were carefully packed in the body of one of the caravans, and they got a free ride into town. They set up, with Jason joining his friend Korry and the other boys.

Looking down the road, Rayla noticed Kali walking down the street from an ornate house. God, the woman oozes sexuality just in her walk, Rayla thought as she approached.

“Is it true?” Kali asked the white woman. “Everyone in town was shocked over what happened last night. They say that Vilmer died before he got to the healer from blood loss. That means that Willy will inherit the mill, and we can get married.”

“I think you might keep your affair secret for a little while longer,” Stone said. “Make sure that Willy gets his inheritance secured and solidified before saying anything.”

“Oh dear, I guess that would be smart,” Kali said. “But I already gave my notice to the madam. She was not pleased. I can’t go back there.”

“You don’t need to,” Rayla said. “Your sister Konna is starting up a Kithren Kitchen at the hatchery. But we think she will want to move out to apprentice to Old Missa, the healer. You and your younger sisters could run the new restaurant. It won’t equal the money you make now, but if you can earn a few silvers a week, it will keep the family in cash.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Kali said. “Anything is better than working in the house. So many men think they can abuse a woman who is black.”

“Stick around,” Rayla said. “Stone thinks we will be done by noon, and then you can ride home with us. The egg boys came out with us, so they have no cart.”

As Kali was talking, a group appeared a bit down the street. The soldiers were there: only six as two had worked over 24 hours the day before. They guarded 14 men who had been at the hatchery the prior night. Stone also saw the weedy looking major, and several of the town council. Stone rode up to the mayor, who flinched, but did not run.

“Three townspeople died at your hand last night,” the mayor said in a quavering voice. “The mill owner, his foreman, and a farmer. Two of those were council members.”

“And all of them were headed to the hatchery carrying torches and claiming they intended to burn the hatchery and kill all the people. My actions were justified to save those people.”

“Also, there is a jurisdictional problem here,” the mayor said. “The attack, and the deaths occurred outside of the town limits. We have no rights to try these men, or you. Normally the Duke of Sarn would try them, but he is gone.”

“And I have taken on most of his duties, but I am apparently accused of a crime. So it would be unfair for me to judge them and pass sentences. Would you take on that chore? I do warn you that my magic sword will determine the truth of any statements. It also occasionally will pass judgment on it’s own, usually by removing a part of the accused’s body.”

“Okay,” the mayor said, sounding more confident. “We will try you first. You are accused of murder of three persons. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” Stone said, “for the reasons I previously stated. Stone then described the events of the prior night, only omitting that it was Jason, and not him who killed the final victim.”

Stone then took Pate out and made a small slit on his wrist. “This allows the sword to judge my testimony as true or false. It tells me. I don’t know how to convince you that what I report is true.”

Suddenly there was a musical series of notes from the sword. Pate sang aloud for the first time: “What the man says is true, but not complete.”

“What is needed to make your testimony complete?” the mayor asked.

Stone hesitated for a moment, then confessed that Jason had made the third killing, in self-defense.

The fact that Pate had forced Stone to complete his story made the spectators more confident that the sword was honest and reliable. Stone then picked one of the men from the prisoners at random, and had him give testimony from the point of view of the mob. He confirmed most of what Stone had said, and pointed out that Vilmer was the instigator of the mob, and that most of the men were from his mill workforce, which was a hotbed of racism in the town.

The man bravely allowed Stone to nick his wrist and Pate sang out. “All evidence given is true.

With that the mayor declared the trial over, and Stone, and his son, innocent of any wrongdoing in the deaths.

Next Stone began calling on each of the other prisoners. He pointed out that he would end each man’s testimony by asking if they would cease being racist against the Kithrens. Lying to that statement would be reported by Pate.

Of the 14 men, 11 testified, and all agreed that they would treat Kithrens with kindness and respect in the future. Apparently most of them had acted racist because it was the way to get ahead at the mill.

Three refused to testify or be judged. Stone suggested that they be expelled from the town. The mayor agreed.

With that the mayor declared the trials over. The 11 men audibly sighed in relief, astounded that they would face no further punishment. The banned men were less happy, and headed to their homes to pack up.

“You have two vacancies on the council,” Stone noted to the mayor.

“Yes, and we will need to appoint replacements soon. With only five we will not have a quorum if more than one man in absent,” the mayor said. “I know you have suggested we do elections, but I don’t think we have time for that.”

“I suggest you consider, William Zepher to fill his father’s position. And the other member I would suggest is the baker. I have had several dealings with him and he seems to be a sensible man.”

“Good suggestions, and I will mention them to the council when we decide,” the mayor said.

Stone turned back to where his caravans were. The egg boys had sold out, and Kali and Rayla were chatting on the bench at the front of one caravan, with O’Breyne beside driving. Kalosun was at the front of the other wagon, with its driver. The egg boys, and Jason were in the back, while in Rayla’s caravan Sissy and Emily were playing with their dolls, all of which had clothes now.

Just prior to noon the two vehicles headed out of town, and were soon back at the hatchery. The younger girls had a lunch ready, and all got out and ate. Then the boys went out foraging: while Kalosun was staying at the hatchery, he had taken the boys out into the surrounding bush, and taught them to find many edible things that the boys realized would cut the bill for supplies, especially with the Restaurant starting. They found wild onions, wild carrots, tubers, berries and edible mushrooms: all items that went into Kithren cuisine.

After lunch they headed to the healers, with the mother riding the caravan with Rayla this time: Kali and the other girls stayed behind to start an evening meal. The baker and one other couple had booked a meal with the egg boys. Konna rode the wagon with Rayla and her mother, who dearly wanted to visit her injured son Kinny at the healer’s.

Jason and Kalosun only rode half way to the healer’s. Then they got out and foraged during the walk in, getting both herbs and edibles for Old Missa. When they arrived at the small hut, they found that Konna was already tending Kinny, while their mother wailed about the injuries her boy had suffered.

Rayla was talking to Missa, making the suggestion that Missa take Konna on as an apprentice healer. “She says she can make traps to snare rabbits, which will be a change to your diet of chickens and eggs,” Rayla said. “The hatchery will increase the number of eggs and hens they give you to make up for the additional food you need. And the girl will need no pay: the knowledge you give her will be payment enough.”

“Mmmm, rabbits,” Missa replied. “I have a potion that will attract rabbits to her traps. I have another for deer, but they are difficult to trap.”

“She has a bow and arrows, and I have given her some tips on bowmanship,” Rayla said. “If your potion will attract a deer, she will be able to shoot it. Do you like venison?”

“Oh yes,” Missa said. “And when I have people in my care, feeding them meat speeds the healing. That boy in there is still on broth, but soon he will need something more substantial.”

“Perhaps this will help,” Stone said, placing a gold on the table next to the crone. “Consider it payment for teaching Konna.”

Missa looked at the coin as if she hadn’t seen one before, which may well be the case. “I don’t know if I need that. Just having someone to help me will be a blessing. Of course, if you do want to leave money, silvers would be better: changing a gold will be difficult for me.”

Stone picked up the gold and doled out 20 silvers in its place. Meanwhile Rayla and Missa went into the hut, and found Konna gently wetting her brother’s forehead with a damp cloth, while their mother just held the boy’s hand.

“She will do,” Missa pronounced. “I will have to get another bed made. She can sleep on one of the patient’s cots until I do.”

“My boys are pretty good building things,” the mother said. “They will build a bed immediately, and after that they will come and look at building an addition to this hut.”

“Do you own the woods around here?” Stone asked.

“Own them? No you cannot own trees or the land. You can use them though. If the boys plant saplings when they take down a mature tree, that will work,” Missa said.

Shortly thereafter the caravans headed out. The mother would walk home after helping feed broth to her son. Konna would stay permanently and immediately started preparing a meal with the items Kalosun and Jason had found, while Missa started putting the herbs and medicinal plants into their proper places.

The caravans headed out, eventually picking up the trail of the wagon trains. They found the camp the wagons had spent the night at, and then got an early start to try and catch up. Stone didn’t expect to catch them though. Two thirds of the coal had been sold, and the remaining bags were distributed into the empty wagons, so that the plodding pace they had set leaving Greenstone was now much faster with the lighter wagons.

It was midnight when the caravans reached the camp outside of Three Rivers. Travelling in the dark could be dangerous, but they had Arthur sitting on the roof of the first caravan, and his night vision was able to alert Doug of potholes and possible problems. Rayla communicated the same information to O’Breyne on the second wagon, and they were able to keep going at a pace almost as fast as during daylight.

They roused the wagoneers, who were happy to enjoy a second dinner.

The next morning they took the coal to the lumber yard to be resold, while Stone walked through the town, pleased to see it looking less depressed than in the past. It would never regain its status as the main town in the former duchy, but the streets were clean now, and businesses looked more vibrant with only the small taxes that the town council levied, compared to the onerous ones the former Duke had levied.

A short chapter to take us further south: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 35 – On to Golden

The group only spent the one day in Three Rivers. That gave Stone a chance to visit a few merchants in town, and Rayla and Sissy a chance to visit the two largest fabric shops in the town. Both shops were quite busy … apparently the depression in the economy of the town meant more people were making their own clothes rather than buying from seamstresses or ready-made garments.

They bought three bolts of material in one store, and another ‘to die for’ bolt in the latter store. Rayla knew Stone would complain, but she knew how to quiet him down. Plus, it had been Stone who decided they wouldn’t buy anything in Greenford. She knew Sissy functioned better when she had some sewing time in each day. On the road from Three Rivers to Golden, she spent the entire day making a new dress for Emily with the ‘to die for’ material.

Stone had sent most of his wagons back to Greenstone at Three Rivers, with orders not to stop and pick up goods at Greenford on the way. The remaining three wagons, plus the caravans, pulled up into the little wayside stop that was the main street of the mining town.

Stone rode up to the mining office, and the man inside turned pale when he saw him.

“Captain,” the man sputtered. “We was told you was dead,”

“Well, as you can see, I’m not,” Stone replied. “I’m here to check out my mine.”

“I’m not sure it is your mine, anymore,” the man said, digging through a box and coming up with a folder. “See here? There is a will here that come a couple months after you left. It shows you left the mine to Lefty Hoover.”

“I don’t even know any Lefty Hoover,” Stone said. “Why would I leave the mine to him instead of the two men I left in charge?”

“I dunno, I just did what the papers said,” the clerk said. “It looked official-like to me.”

“Barely,” Stone said. “And there are more than a few spelling mistakes in it. They even spelled my name wrong. It is W-A-H-L, not Wall. I need to speak to this Hoover fellow.” With that he left the office, and saw a large group of men approaching him, nearly 30.

“Are one of you Hoover?” Stone said.

“That would be me. Why are you enquiring about my mine?”

“Your mine? And where are the men that were left in charge?”

“Mining is a dangerous business,” Hoover said. “One fella slipped off the cliff, and the other had a landslide fall on him. I took over management then, so the production could keep going, and these men would continue to get paid. That was near enough to two years ago. And then the will come through.”

“No will is valid if the signer is not dead, and as you can see, I am surely not dead.” Stone drew his sword.

«Be careful, Pate,» Stone said «There are two years of gold hidden around here, so we need to be able to question him.»

“Get him men,” Hoover shouted. “There are only three of them.” The two soldiers that Stone had brought with him were at his side as soon as trouble became apparent.

Doug stepped in front of the onrushing men, and Stone swept several aside with the flat of his blade. But when he approached Hoover, the sword came down blade first and the sword held by the miner fell to the ground, with most of his arm attached.

The stunned miner looked up at Stone, when suddenly his head was lopped off, and went rolling in front of the other miners, causing them to stop immediately.

«Pate,» Stone said angrily. «I said we needed to question him?»

«No need,» the sword sang back. «I got everything from him after the first blood. He killed three men himself and had three others killed by his henchmen. He replaced the dead men with his cronies. And I have their names.»

The riot was over: seeing what Pate could do mollified the men, once their boss was laying on the ground in three different parts. Stone named the five men that Pate told him were cronies of the dead men, who he ordered to pick up the parts of Hoover and arrange a burial.

“I assume all five of you are foremen?” Stone said. The men nodded as they looked over the gruesome task before them.

Stone turned to the rest of the men. “How many shifts in the mine?”

“Three sir, and a maintenance shift on the weekend,” one miner said.

“Good. I want each shift to elect their foremen and assistant foremen. Let me know at the end of the shift who was chosen. Who kept the books for this lot?”

“That would be me,” a smallish man said.

“I want you to come to the wagons at the road with your records in two hours. Now everyone get to work.”

Stone and his two soldiers then started going through the mine, finding the various hiding places where Hoover had stashed gold. At the end of two hours they had found most of it. It still looked like only a quarter of what two year’s takings would be.

Stone confirmed this with the bookkeeper, going through the records. Even though the foremen and Hoover were being paid outrageous salaries, and the men were paid slightly higher than normal, there should have been far more gold, according to the figures that the small man had provided in the ledger of gold returned from the smelter.

Stone even had Pate take a nick out of the man’s wrist, and then she confirmed that he was telling the truth, and was an honest man. He had not known that Hoover was not the legitimate owner of the mine. But Pate did get a suggestion from the man’s mind: apparently Hoover had a wife.

Stone and the soldiers went up to Hoover’s house and found a young woman in her early 20’s, packing up. She did not seem to overcome by the death of her husband.

Stone spoke with her as the soldiers went through her bags, finding gold in most of them. “Hoover is dead, and I am in charge now,” Stone said.

The woman thrust out her ample breasts, putting on the come-hither smile that had worked for her so many times before. “Perhaps we can come to some arrangement,” she cooed, pulling down her top to show more of her cleavage.”

“I am sorry miss, but I have a wife I love, and her bosom makes yours look like a teenager,” Stone said.

“I will fight her,” the girl said. “Winner mates with you.”

Stone looked astounded. “You think I would condone a fight with myself as the prize? Not that you would have a chance against Rayla. She has killed hundreds of armed men in battle. Do you want to die?”

“Am I not going to die anyway?” she said.

“Not necessarily,” Stone said. “Let me take a small nick from your wrist.”

The girl held back. The man who had come to warn her of Hoover’s death had described what the sword could do. Stone finally lost patience.

“You know, slicing off your breasts would tell me all I need to know, but it would hurt you a lot more. Not to mention putting you pretty much out of the business of wooing men.”

With that choice the girl finally put out her hand, and Pate made the smallest of cuts.

«I have it all,» she sang to Stone. «She has more stashes and caches than even Hoover had. He didn’t know she was squirreling away a lot of his ill-gotten gains for herself.»

“You can’t take my money,” the girl complained when the soldiers started bringing out the bags of gold she had packed in her bags.

“It is not your money, it is mine,” Stone said. “And I also know about the stash under the creek bank, in the old dead oak, in the drainage ditch, …” The girl blanched as Stone repeated all the locations Pate had learned. He reached into his pouch and took out some coins: two gold and a pile of silvers. “Here are two and a half gold to let you get restarted. You can keep this house, once my men clear it of any more gold. Dig under the stove, fellows. There should be four bags in there.”

Stone left and returned back to the wagon and sent Kalosun and O’Breyne and the other wagoneers off to help the soldiers. By the evening meal, they had returned, and the gold had reached 90% of what the bookkeeper said it should be. Stone assumed that the rest had been spent in one way or another.

That night, Rayla and Stone slept in a tent, not too far from the caravan that Sissy, Emily and Jason slept in. Stone was exhausted after the events of the day, so he was content to just snuggle with his beautiful wife.

“This isn’t working,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Owning a mine way down here. It really needs someone on site to run it.”

“What will you do?”

“Sell it, I think. But I don’t imagine any of the mine owners have enough cash to pay for it.”

“What about selling to a partnership?” Rayla suggested.

“That is genius,” Stone said, sitting up in bed. Of course it would need to be a big partnership. I don’t think that any three or four of them could afford it on their own. I could cash out, and we could take the money to Westport. I want to buy a ship anyway.”

“A ship? Whatever for?”

Remember when we first got here, and we decided to search out that three towers place across the sea? But we wanted to wait until the kids are a little older? Well, Jason will be 10 when we get home, and Emily will be seven. I’m not sure how old Sissy is, and I doubt she knows. So we go home for two more years, and then come back to Westport. My ship will have two years of local trading, and a seasoned crew to take us across to the other side of the sea. Then we just have to find the towers.”

“That sounds easy enough, but you don’t have a clue where to look, do you?” Rayla pointed out.

“No, but I might in a month. I expect to spend that long in Westport. I can chat with the locals: some of them may have sailed to the other side of the sea, and have some information.”

“A month? That is a long time,” Rayla noted. “What am I going to do down there?”

“Well, you will be teaching the kids, for one thing. Sissy should get some work with a local seamstress. She seems to do better when she is doing a lot of sewing.”

With the discussion closed, the two fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning Stone called a meeting of all the mine owners. They arrived tentatively, not sure if Pate would be handing out any more of her justice. They were astounded to learn that the mine was for sale.

“Pate has told me that the last two years has only depleted half of the easily attainable pure gold. After that there might be another 10 or 20 years of digging out the gold-rich ore that is left: much like what you do in the other mines now. It will depend on how much effort is put into it.” Stone said.

“I want you all to determine the amount of money you can each put into the company. The amount you put in will determine the shares that you get, and therefore your profits. I expect that you will be able to recoup your investments in three months, and everything after that will be profit.”

“Can I get in on that?” the mining office clerk said. “I’ve got about 300 gold saved up for my retirement. Doubling that every half year would be nice.”

“Yes,” Stone replied. “I also invited the owner of the mint and the smelting operation here so they participate as well. All the people who contribute will decide who will run the operation, with one vote per gold contributed. It is in your best interests to select someone honest. You saw what happened with Hoover.”

“But most of my money is copper and silver coins, not gold,” the minter complained. “I only have a little gold for buying more metals.”

“Not a problem,” Stone replied. “Your contribution will just have to be converted to golds: 20 silvers equals one gold, 240 copper is also a gold. It all works out.”

That made the man smile, and he hurried off to start counting his stock.

The other men did the same. Some were reluctant to put all their assets into the corporation, but most did, to get the largest share possible, only keeping out a few silvers to provide food for the next month or so. Most expected to work in the mine, and would be able to draw a salary each week. The little bookkeeping clerk counted the contributions, noting the value given by each of the 32 partners. Gold was bagged and placed in the bottom of the wagons.

At one point Stone noted there was an old wagon near the office. “Who owns that?” he asked, and the mining clerk said it was the wagon he had arrived in, but the horses were long dead.

“I will buy it for eight gold,” Stone said. “We have spare relief horses that can pull it. Lets put eight more gold next to your name.” The bookkeeper did. The wagon was of no use to mining clerk, and the extra profits he would get would bump up his savings.

“Who will drive it? You?” O’Breyne asked.

“No, I hope not,” Stone turned to Kalosun. “O’Breyne tells me you have taken a turn driving his wagon. Are your hands healed enough to take on this wagon.”

“Gladly,” the black man said, happy to be able to finally contribute.

“Okay,” Stone said, adding: “I don’t want you overdoing it through. I know you are a tough man and will endure enormous pain. But I want you to let me know if it is getting sore: even a little bit. I will take over for a bit. But we don’t want your healing stopped, do we? You don’t want to revert to being helpless again.”

Kalosun agreed, and Jason piped in that he would ride with his mentor, and could help out in easier sections of the trail, to allow Kalosun to rest his hands.

It turned out that Stone only had to take over for one hour twice the first day on the road to Westport, and two periods of a half-hour the next day.

It was on the second day that Stone felt a pull, and rode away from the small train, and then paused in a familiar spot he had never visited before. He stood there on Doug for nearly a half hour until the recognition hit. This was the spot in his dreams where he had fought the dragon so many times in his dreams. He finally rode back to the wagon train to tell Rayla what he had found.

We finally get the family safely into Westport: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 36 – Arriving at Westport

Stone returned to the camp, set up a mile outside of Westport. He had decided to camp for one more night, because he didn’t want to take all the wagons loaded with gold into town in the evening. He climbed into the caravan, where the rest of the family was eating. He took his bowl of stew. There were still-fresh rolls from the Three Rivers bakery.

“You won’t believe where I was,” he told Rayla.

“Your girlfriend’s house,” Rayla jokingly guessed.

“No, it was the place from all my dreams. Where the dragon was,” he said. “But there was no dragon.”

“Is a dragon what you call a big bird that breathes fire,” Sissy asked.

“Yes, I guess you could say that.”

“The big bird is away over the sea and won’t be back here for a couple years.” Sissy said. “A dream last night said so.”

Stone and Rayla were a bit perplexed. How had the handicapped girl known about the dragon dreams? She didn’t know how she knew, of course, only that she knew.

“She’s right,” Stone said. “I was in the place where I saw the dragons. I wonder if I should stay there in case it comes by.”

“But Sissy says it won’t be back for a few years. You could be waiting a long time,” Rayla pointed out.

Stone thought on it for a while, then agreed. “I will ask in town tomorrow, along with all the other things I hope to learn. I think you will need to plan on us being here two or three months.”

“I will have to find Sissy a seamstress to work for, then,” she said. “She needs to sew and I don’t think there is enough for her to do just for us. And I’ll have to decide on the kids. Do we put them into a school, or do I keep teaching them. And if they are in school I will need something to do myself.”

The next morning Stone was up with the sun, leaving the rest of the men to guard the train and the family. He noticed a few people of both races up at that time, going to their jobs on foot probably. There was a good selection of shops on the main street, usually two or more for every trade. It was the jewelers that interested him the most. There were three, with two looking quite prosperous. Stone headed back to the wagon, where he found a breakfast was underway. When the men had eaten he had one of the wagons harnessed up and it followed him into town. “You better come along, Kalo,” Stone said to his friend. “There looked to be a lot of your people in town.”

They pulled up in front of the largest jeweler. Stone went inside, and soon the owner was out front, looking at the wagon. Kalosun pulled aside the covering, and the man gaped at all the gold in the bottom of the wagon. “I could buy two or three bars,” the jeweler said, “but I don’t have the cash to buy all that.”

“The question is: do you have room to store it safely?” Stone asked. “I will pay a small fee for storage.”

“Oh, yes,” the man said. “I built a new safe room and cellar a year back when there was a lull in the building trades in town. I got an excellent price for the work.”

“I was thinking that I could pay you 1 gold per year for every 200 gold you store. And you would be able to take gold out if you need it for your work, so long as you credit it to my account.”

The jeweler called two apprentices out, and Kalosun and the wagoneer helped carry the gold into the building. Stone stood at the wagon, and guarded the gold, which created an attraction once people saw what it was.

In an hour the wagon was empty and was taken back to the camp. Stone noticed two shady looking men following. The second wagon was harnessed and ready to go.

“Can we go into town now,” Jason begged.

“You can, but I want your mother and the girls to stay out here a little longer.” Rayla raised her eyes at this. “I think there is going to be trouble,” Stone said. “Two men followed us back, but seem to have disappeared. I suspect they went to get help. If you and the girls go out ‘picking flowers’ about 50 yards out, you might be able to help the soldiers defend our wagons, especially if you bring your bow and arrows.” Rayla got a look of understanding, and nodded.

Stone took the second wagon back into town. Stone noticed men hiding badly in bushes about half way out, so a few minutes later he told Kalosun he was in charge, and turned back. He was fairly sure Rayla and the soldiers could look after the gang of thieves he saw, but perhaps there were more, better at hiding.

In town Kalosun pulled up in front of the jeweler’s. The man was surprised not to see Stone, but since he had met Kalo before, he took the man’s word that the big man would be along soon. The men started to unload, with Kalo and Jason standing in front to guard the wagon.

Back at the camp the gang of about 20 thugs charged as soon as they saw the wagons, and the two soldiers mounted and counter attacked. Three men were dead with arrows in their necks before the soldiers met the men. Five attacked the soldiers and were quickly hewn down. Another five then turned and ran. But the ploy was that while those ran, the other ten would run to the wagons and take them. It was a good plan, but one that had not counted on an expert archer in the fields, picking them off. Not one of the 10 lived to reach the wagon.

The men who ran had planned on getting to relative safety in the woods before the soldiers could run them down. This was another flaw in the plan. They hadn’t counted on Stone coming in behind them, with Pate singing in the air as she split bodies apart. None made it to the forest.

Stone ordered the soldiers to put the dead men into the first wagon, now empty. He had Rayla and the girls get into the third gold wagon, and they rode it into town, leaving the camp empty.

In town Stone pulled the last gold wagon in front of the jewelers. The man looked in awe. “So much? I hope it will all fit.”

“I will spend a bit over the next few days, so that might make some room,” Stone said.

“And that wagon has no gold: just something less valuable I think. Where should it be dumped?” Stone added. The jeweler glanced into the wagon and its grisly load. He recoiled. “The undertaker is down at the end of Lake Street”: he pointed. The wagon headed down there, with Stone riding along to ensure that the undertaker would take on the job.

Stone had to flash some gold at the man, who agreed to prepare pauper’s funerals for the men. Stone headed back to see an incensed Rayla with the three kids.

“I don’t like this place,” she snorted. “I took the kids down to the school you had pointed out, and they refused to take them, even after I showed them the gold. They claim that they don’t take Kithrens. They said blacks don’t need to be educated.”

“Sounds like we have another Greenford here,” Stone said. “But here half the population seems to be Kithren. It seems that they need a school here for the black children. Jason, walk along with your mother. I think she needs to find a house to hold your new school.”

Rayla smiled when she realized she would be the new teacher at that school. Sissy and Emily stayed at the jeweler’s: it is possible they couldn’t be moved anyway when they had found the picture window of the store, and were staring at the pretty goods on display, and dreaming.

Both wagons were unloaded by the time Rayla returned. There was very little room left in the storage areas, but all the gold was safely stored, and Stone and the jeweler had signed receipts and agreements on usage.

“Did you find a house?” Stone asked as Rayla entered the shop.

“Two,” she replied. “Side by side. Apparently they are at the very edge between the white and black sections of town, so they are quite cheap, according to the neighbors.”

“Those would be Stan Hunter’s houses,” the jeweler said. He passed on three months ago, and his son’s wife has no interest in living in that part of town. My wife is looking after selling them, and she has keys to get in.”

“That would be nice. One was locked up, the nicer one, but the door on the other one was ripped off. We went inside and it looked like vagrants were living there.”

The jeweler’s wife took the whole family down to the houses, at the far end of Lake Street. She was dismayed to see that people had been trespassing in the one. It had three large rooms downstairs, and a small kitchen. There were five small bedrooms upstairs and a washroom.

The other house was nicer with a sitting room, living room, dining room and a nice kitchen downstairs. The upper floor had a large master bedroom and three smaller rooms, which the three kids tore through, picking the ones they wanted after Stone said they would each get their own room. Jason insisted his must be next to Emily’s: they had never slept apart, but with the boy now eight and the girl five, it was time, Rayla said.

In the back of the two houses was a large yard that would hold all the wagons. A barn was large enough for the horses and included a loft with three rooms in it, so the men not living in the school house could live there.

They walked back to the jewelry shop and found that the young Mr. Hunter was there, having heard that someone was finally interested in his father’s houses.

“Does he have ready money to pay?” Stone heard the young man ask as they entered the shop.

“Oh, I think he does,” the jeweler said with a smile. “Here he is now.”

The young man looked up at Stone, who nearly reached the ceiling of the shop. Stone made an offer of three quarters of the asking price for the buildings.”

Mr. Hunter countered with a higher price, and Stone stared at him for several minutes, then turned and looked at the jeweler’s wife: “Do you know of other places in town? They don’t need to be together.”

“One minute please,” Hunter said quickly. “I will meet your price, but only if it is gold paid today.”

“That is fair, so long as we take possession as soon as the deed is signed over,” Stone said. He turned to the jeweler, and asked the man to get the needed gold, two small bars and some coin. Papers were signed and keys handed over.

Stone then came out of the shop and addressed his people. He sent the soldiers to the house, where they were to keep an eye out for the vagrants as well as cleaning up the filth. One wagon was assigned to Rayla, who was to take Sissy and Emily to find goods to furnish the house and the schoolhouse. And the other wagoneers were sent to the houses to start cleaning up the barn and doing needed repairs to the houses. One wagon eventually went to pick up feed for the animals, and lumber and nails for the repairs.

Stone turned to Kalo and told him that he was to go to the Kithren pubs and start finding out what he could about the other side of the sea. He handed the man a handful of silver. Stone was going to the white pubs, and trying to find a captain and crew for the ship he hoped to build. Jason accompanied him.

Rayla and the girls were in heaven. Stone had given her 12 gold, and instructions to come to the jewelers if she needed more. She probably would. She needed four good beds for the family, and eight cheaper ones for the other men. They needed chairs for the rooms, and a nice dining room set. There were both food and utensils needed for the kitchen.

It was when she was in the food market that she lucked out. The store had a large chalkboard with prices written on it: perfect for a schoolroom. The store owner was reluctant to sell, even when Rayla put a gold on the counter. She added three silvers, and he still hesitated. It was only when Rayla started to pick up the coins that he agreed to sell, at the end of the day.

She was disturbed by a commotion at the other side of the shop. A huge black woman, nearly as wide as she was tall, had a basket of goods and was trying to leave.

“You must pay,” the clerk was insisting. “Your family hasn’t paid for three months. No more credit!”

“They will whip me if I don’t have food for them,” the woman whimpered. “You have to let me take this.”

“The Wheelers are frauds,” the shop owner said. “Living in that big house, with a Kithren cook. If they want my food they will have to buy it.” With that the woman set down her basket and started crying.

“Don’t cry dear,” Rayla said wrapping her arms around the ample bosom of the woman. “Do your employers pay you?”

“Not for the last few months,” she sobbed. “They say what I eat is enough pay.”

“Well then would you like to come work for us? I need a cook, and my family really like Kithren food.”

“Really?” she said. “The Wheelers won’t let me cook that. But you are white?”

“I am, but my son is Kithreen, and Emily here is half-Kithren. We have another Kithren man living in the house, along with a bunch of whites. I am starting a school for Kithren children in the house next to mine, and will need a cook to make lunches for them.”

“My name is Cass,” the woman said. “What food do you need in your house?”

“Everything,” Rayla said. “Let’s start loading up: we can pay coin for everything we need. We also need pots and pans, place settings for six, and anything else you can think of.”

While Rayla was shopping, including a trip to the fabric shop to get Sissy some bolts of cloth to make curtains for the house, Stone was in a bar. He discovered that the big topic of conversation was the wagonload of bodies that had been dumped at the undertakers that morning. When it was discovered that he had been at the battle, he became the center of conversation.

Thus for the next few hours he didn’t manage to get any of the information he wanted about sailors and the other side of the sea … instead the only conversation of interest was the battle. He did learn that all 20 men were unemployed drifters and sponges on the town, and not missed by many. Except one.

A big man entered the bar. He was 6’5” and probably the biggest man in town … before the arrival of Stone. “War’s the bastard what kilt my little brother,” the man shouted from the door. He took a step back when Stone stood up, a full foot taller than him. The man had not brought a sword, thinking he could take any man in town with his fists. He couldn’t. When the man came at Stone with a wild swing, the big man just stepped back, out of his attacker’s reach, and then popped a jab into the man’s jaw. A second punch hit the side of his head, and the attacker just rolled his eyes into the back of his head and fell to the floor. The bar was quiet for a few seconds, and then burst out in applause. Apparently the man was a bully and everyone was glad to see him put in his place.

Stone decided that was enough for the night, and gathered Jason up and they walked home to the new house, which was fitted up with much of the goods Rayla had bought.

Sorry for goofing off so long. I promise the next chapter within a week: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 37 – At Westport

Jason and Stone found Kalosun leaving the Kithren bar. Kalo had not been at the battle at the camp, and knew little about it, so he had been able to pick up more information.

He learned that the sea was more of an ocean, and took nearly a year to cross. Most of the Kithren’s had originated there, but recently most had been moving to Westport and Lakeport further up the shore because of problems on the other side of the ocean. The ocean bit made sense: Stone had realized as soon as he arrived in town that there was a salty tang in the air. Kalo said most of the Kithrens worked on the whale ships that sailed from the ports. As a trader, Stone knew that whale oil was the main export from the town. He intended to fill the three wagons with oil to take back to Greenstone and the towns along the way. The oil was cheap here, but quite expensive in the other towns. It provided much of the towns’ economy the way coal did for Greenstone.

At the house Stone was happy to see that the good house was well furnished with a cook, and smells coming from the kitchen that made Stone, Jason, and especially Kalosun’s mouths water. The school was still in the process of being equipped, but when the new cook rang a triangular bell, all the men working there and in the barns stopped and followed their noses to the kitchen. Cass had set up a buffet arrangement on the kitchen table, and the family went first, loading food onto their plates and taking it to the dining room table. The soldiers and wagoneers took their food to the front and back porches of either the house or the school, and ate there.

Halfway through the meal Rayla went into the kitchen, and saw the cook sitting alone, eating her meal.

“Come, Cass. You are part of the family. There is a place for you at the table,” she said.

“Madam, I cannot. I am only the cook,” Cass protested.

“Nonsense,” Rayla said grabbing the woman’s plate and carrying it into the dining room, setting it at the empty place next to Sissy. The big woman followed, carrying her fork with a bite still attached to it. She sat and ate quietly.

Stone finished first. “That was a fabulous meal, Cass,” he said to the cook’s embarrassment. “I hope you do as well with white food. Kithren cooking is fine for a change, but only once or twice a week.”

“Thank you master,” Cass said uncertainly. “No one ever complimented my cooking over there. And there all meals were white food. It felt good to make the food of my people.”

The desserts were Kallopaws, the sticky treat that they were introduced to at the hatchery in Greenford. Jason had just grabbed a second of the sweet and said: “I hope you can make these more than twice a week, Cass. They are wonderful.”

The big cook smiled and said: “Those were not part of the menu at the other place. I will make them for you as often as your parents allow. But be aware that I can also make other treats for you: cookies, cakes, sweet buns, and pies. You are a growing boy and need good food. I will see to it you get it.”

After dinner Rayla went to the kitchen with Sissy and started to clean up, to Cass’s consternation. “Madam and Miss, that is my job.”

“No Cass. Your job is to cook. The rest of us will help with the cleanup. Jason will clear the table, and I expect Kalosun will help. It looks like there is a bit of food left.”

“Sorry madam,” Cass said. “I was unsure how much to make. Your man is very big and I thought … well, the old master got angry when there was not enough food for him. Sometimes he took my portion.”

The three women were washing the dishes when noises were heard on the back stoop. Cass went to investigate, and all Rayla heard was Cass saying: “All I can do is ask.”

“There are three boys out there, about five years old. They look hungry and say they haven’t eaten for a few days,” she told Rayla. “They wondered …”

“Bring them in,” Rayla said. “They can clean up the leftovers.” Three small Kithren boys entered the kitchen and were ushered to the kitchen table, where Cass split the leftovers into three helpings, and placed one in front of each boy, who then Hoovered up the food. Minutes later each plate had been wiped clean with a slice of bread, and the boys looked around, as if more might appear.

“I want you boys to come back tomorrow morning,” Rayla said. “The house next door is a school, and you three should attend.

“Thank you for the food, ma’am,” the biggest boy said. “But we really aren’t fans of schools.”

“Well, if you come before eight, there will be a breakfast. School starts at nine and runs to noon, and you will get a sandwich for lunch after,” Rayla said.

“Mebbe we will come then,” the boy replied. “We aren’t fans of school, but we are fans of food.”

The next morning at eight, Rayla looked out and saw seven boys and two girls on the stoop of the school, waiting patiently. Apparently the three boys had spread the word about the new school. “Looks like eleven in total, Cass,” she called into the kitchen, where the big black lady was making porridge. The food was carted over to the school in a big pot. Cheap bowls had been purchased the day before, and Cass scooped the oatmeal into them, and Rayla handed a spoon and a bowl to each child, who then sat on the floor and ate up. The three boys from the night before each had seconds, and looked eager for third helpings: these were denied since Rayla wanted to start class.

“All right children. I’m sorry there are no desks yet, but you look comfortable on the floor. Today we are going to start reading. I am going to draw the first five letters on the chalkboard, and I want you to draw the same shape on the floor. Then we will teach each of you the first letter of your name. Finally, I will teach you the numbers one to 10, and we will practice counting. That should take us until first recess, when we will sing a song. There will be a second recess an hour later, and then at noon Cass will be back with sandwiches on the fresh bread she is making right now.”

While school was on, Jason and Emily acted as helpers, since they were both far beyond this point in their schooling. Stone and Kalosun walked down to the docks at the far end of the main street. They found a whaling ship had just arrived, and Stone was able to buy three wagonloads of whale oil at a better price than Stone normally paid to brokers when his wagon trains came to town. Kalo ran back and got the wagoneers to bring their rigs down to the dock. Most had slept in, and were eating in the kitchen when he roused them into action. They loaded the wagons fully, and brought the valuable oil back to the yards behind the house, storing the wagons safely in the big barn. Stone wanted to spend at least several weeks in town before heading back north.

It was nearly noon when Stone took the ship owner to the jewelers to be paid for his load. After the man left, Stone and Kalosun went to the local bars to have lunch. Kalosun chose a Kithren bar, and Stone was not surprised when it went quiet when he walked in. Stone was used to this reaction, due to his size, but in this case he also noticed that he was the only white man in the bar. The fact that he was accompanied by a Kithren seemed to satisfy most of the patrons, and they turned back to their lunches. One seemed to object though: “How come a whitey like you comes in here?”

Stone replied: “My friend Kalosun says this is where the best food is. Can’t say I like eating the dreck from the white bar down the street, though I’ll head down there later for a drink. They can’t mess that up, can they?”

This resulted in general laughter through the bar, with several people sitting close by mentioning that he had called Kalo a friend. The bar owner came over immediately, proud of the compliments on his food, and took their orders. He could be heard telling the cook what Stone had said, and insisting that their meals be made “special”.

Stone enjoyed the results that came out of the kitchen several minutes later. He was starting to acquire a taste for Kalosun cuisine. After the meal was consumed and the dishes carted away, Stone stood and stooped to go out the door. Kalo stayed, ordering a beer, and was offered a place at several of the tables.

Stone went to the bar he had been in the night before, and this time was able to get some information instead of just talking about the battle. He found the captain of the whaler, and his offer to buy a round was taken up. He learned a lot about whaling at that table: the other three were captains as well, waiting to go out again with their crews.

Stone learned that whaling was a hazardous profession that garnered the town most of its income. Most whale ships went out for three or four months at a time: any longer and the men started coming down with sea disease, which was described to Stone and sounded a lot like scurvy.

The ships had mixed race crews: slightly more black than white. The Kithrens were judged the better sailors by the masters: although apparently sailors sitting at other tables loudly disagreed. Apparently when the boats were in whaling waters two or three weeks out, small boats with ten Kithrens would be set out, and eight men would row, trying to get close to a whale, so that the harpoon man could fling his weapons at the big mammals. The only position on the small boats ever manned by a white was the tiller man.

“Them darkies can row,” one captain bragged. “They’ll go twice as long as the white boys. And no white boy can throw a harpoon half as far as a good darky. And they don’t get sea disease as quickly. Many’s a boat comes in that only has darkies manning it, with all the whites in the sick bay.”

While the small boats were out the white sailors would stay on the big ship, keeping close to the three or four small boats and watch for a hit. A ship needed to land four or five whales to fill the hold with whale oil, which took several days per whale with the full crew working together to render down the oil. Again blacks in the smaller boats would strip the blubber, which would be hauled on deck and boiled down in big pots by the others.

Apparently whaling was a dangerous profession, with 20 ships sailing from Westport and a dozen from Lakeport across the way. About one ship a year was lost, often with all hands. Sometimes the smaller boats survived, coming ashore anywhere along the coast with the men slowly making their way to town.

The loss of boats meant there was a boat building industry in town, which was currently idle due to a stretch with no ships lost. Stone found out the name of the shipbuilder, and where he could be found.

“You thinking of going into whaling, sir?” one of the captains asked.

“No. I hope to get a ship that can cross the entire sea,” Stone said.

“Whatever for?” one captain said. “Good luck finding a crew. That’s a suicide trip.”

“Well, it could be done if the rumors of Hurricane Island are true,” another captain said. “But you’ll not get me on that voyage.”

“What is Hurricane Island?” Stone asked.

“It’s real,” one captain said. “I got stranded there for a month, waiting for my crew to recover from the sea disease. It’s an island about halfway across the sea. Pretty big: It takes a week to walk around it. Good food: there is trees that have big round fruits that really knock down the sea disease. They have both a milk and a meat in them. There’s goats on the island too, but they are pesky to catch. We only took two during our week there, but it was a welcome meat to go with the fruits.”

“Hurricane,” Stone mentioned. “Are there many hurricanes out there?”

All the captains nodded. “The season is about three months with about one a week,” one man said. “Fierce storms that can pick up a ship and flip it clean over. Most ships stay in port on vacation from whaling when the hurricane season is on. I think most of us will make one more trip before them: a short one. In four months the storms will be blowing hard.”

Stone stood, ordering another round for the captains before leaving. He wanted to find this shipbuilder, and see if he could have a ship built.

Stone

Chapter 38 – Shipbuilding

Stone entered the shipbuilding business, and saw an arrow sign painted with the word ‘office’. That led to a door with the same word, and Stone ducked into the door. The office was only seven feet tall, so he had to crouch a bit: nothing new to him.

There was a man furiously working on papers at a desk. Behind him was a large plate glass window showing a huge yard: a dry-dock. It was mostly empty: there were two white men down below working on a tiny boat. Otherwise the vast place was empty.

“Good day sir,” Stone asked. “Are you the shipbuilder in this town?”

“That I am,” the man said, looking up at the man whose head touched the ceiling. “What might I do for you? And take a seat: I’m afraid this office is a bit small for the likes of you.”

Stone sat on a sturdy looking chair. “I would like you to build me a boat,” he said.

“A boat, or a ship?” the man said. “There is a difference. A boat is a vessel small enough to go onto a ship.”

“A ship then,” Stone clarified.

“Are you going into the whaling business then?” the man said.

“No. Actually I am looking for a boat … I mean a ship that will cross the ocean to the other side,” Stone said.

The man gasped, and set his pencil down. “I haven’t made an ocean-going ship in years. The last man who sailed across the ocean never came back. Mostly I do whaling ships, although I have built a few freight boats that travel from Westport to Lakeport and back, and some ocean fishing boats. But none built for sailing across the ocean.”

“Well, I will probably send the boat out on some trips to Lakeport,” Stone said. “Just to shake-down the vessel and train up the crew.”

“The crew is going to be a problem for you,” the man said. “Not too many white men will make such a voyage. You might find Kithrens who will do the trip. They come from over there, don’t they? But none of them are captains or officers. You might find one who has done a stretch as a mate on a whaler that was hit by the sea-disease. But whaling ship owners prefer a white captain and mates.”

“Well that is another step I will have to take,” Stone said. “Can you make suggestions on a vessel?”

“Let’s see,” the man said, pulling out a sheet of blank paper. “Whaler and traders are both pretty wide to carry more cargo. I think an ocean-goer would be longer and narrower, to cut through the big waves you get in mid-ocean. Three masts, I think.” He sketched a ship on the paper drawing in three masts with three rectangular sails on each.

“What if we did this?” Stone said, picking up another pencil. He drew three triangular sails in at the front.

“Harumph,” the man snorted. “Sails has to be square. Where did you get the idea to make them triangles?”

“Where I come from they use those all the time,” Stone said. “They funnel wind into the main sails. We call them jibs.”

“Odd. But you are the customer. If you want them jib things, I’ll build them for you. Or at least my sail maker will. But he’s liable to think I’m a bit tetched to suggest them.”

The man set down some figures, and calculated a bit before coming up with a price. “Have you got ready cash?” he asked. “I can’t build on credit. I need to call my men all back in, and order wood and brass and other bits.”

“Would 3000 gold make a good deposit?” Stone asked. The man smiled and shoved his papers away. That money would get him through his current cash crunch. “I’ll make additional payments at the start of each month, as the boat … er, ship, progresses.”

“It’ll take four months,” the shipbuilder promised. Usually a vessel that big would take six to eight but as you can see we don’t have anything laid down right now. I won’t start anything else till your ship is in finishing up mode, and by then I might start laying out a whaler. Those buggers can’t continue to be lucky much longer.”

Stone walked home, expecting dinner to be ready soon. Great smells were coming from Cass’s kitchen, and it wasn’t Kithren food today. It smelled like a pork roast.

The big man sat on the couch, and Rayla cuddled in next to him. “How was school today?” he asked.

“The morning went smoothly. Emily and Jason helped out because we were working on more basic things: recognizing letters and numbers and drawing the initial letters of their name on the floor. It will be good when we get slates for them to practice on. We had nine, mostly boys, including the three who were here last night. I expect we will see them after dinner again tonight. I have Cass making a bit more than we need for the family and the men. Jason has made friends with them, even though they are a bit younger. They were out with Kalo all afternoon learning Kithren culture, the one thing I can’t teach.”

“No,” Stone said.

“No what?” Rayla asked.

“No you are not adopting those three. We have two kids, plus Sissy, who is practically a child. We don’t need three more.”

“Well, the thought had crossed my mind. They are far too young to be on their own, and their shoes and clothes are near rags. And they probably go without food too often.”

“No,” Stone repeated. “You can buy them clothes and shoes, and feed them when they need it, but we are not adopting them.”

“I spoke to Cass about them. Two are brothers and their father was a whaler who was killed on a voyage. Their mother just disappeared a few months later, leaving the boys wild. The third boy is also an orphan. He has an aunt, but she has four kids of her own and no husband. She does laundry and sewing but barely makes enough for her four, let alone another one.”

“Well, we don’t need sewing done, with Sissy here,” Stone said. “You want to start sending her our laundry?”

“Well, we could do that, and it would help her out, but it doesn’t help the boys. What if we paid her to keep the boys? We have more money than we need, and the boys need a mother. If she takes them we could give her a gold every three months to cover the expenses. That would pay for food for the boys, plus her four. I will get the boys new clothes and shoes before then. Jason needs new shoes anyway.”

“I’m okay with that. Talk to the aunt and see if she agrees. Make part of the deal that the boys need to go to school, and her four as well.”

“Okay.” she replied. “How was your day?”

“Well, I made contact with the shipbuilder, and paid a deposit on a boat … no, a ship. But it sounds like it is going to be hard to get an experienced captain and officers. Apparently there are no white captains who will take the ship over the ocean.”

“What about a Kithren captain?” Rayla asked.

“Apparently there are none. All the owners of the whale ships insist on white officers, so the Kithrens don’t get a chance to learn the trade. Apparently there are a few Kithrens who have filled in as mates along the way, when one of the white officers gets the ocean sickness or is injured on the ship. But any of them will need a lot more experience. We plan to go back to Greenstone for two more years before we go over there to find those three towers. Perhaps during that time the Kithrens can sail the ship between Westport and Lakeport on trading runs. That way they will gain the experience they need to tackle a longer voyage. It will also ensure that the new boat … ship, will sail well.”

“Um, about that: going back to Greenstone,” Rayla said hesitantly. “I would just as soon spend the next two years here. I have the school, and the kids are making friends. I think this would be a much better place for them to grow up, rather than in a town where they are the only Kithrens.”

Stone pondered. “I guess we could do that. I have to head north with the wagons this trip. I could sell the house up there and make arrangements with someone to handle that end of the run. O’Breyne has handled the sales on the trips I don’t make: he could be the agent up there. He has been hinting about retiring from driving wagons.”

Rayla just smiled. “I know the reason why. He has a woman up in Greenstone, and only gets to see her for a few days between trips, and then is gone for nearly two weeks. She is not happy about it, and I suspect she is sniffing around for a job for him up there.”

“Well, I will have to beat her to the punch and hire him as resident agent before we get back. And if we are not going to be travelling any more, we can take one of the caravans back. It will provide them a base up there: heck, if they want to live in it they can.”

“For a year or two. Sapphire is quite young, and I’ll bet they have children before long. You saw how O’Breyne took to Jason and Emily when he was driving.”

“Well, I’ll set his pay high enough that he can start to save for a house when little ones arrive, although three or four could live in the caravan. We can keep the other caravan down here. It is just one more place where the men can rest on the turnover down here. It will only be one or two nights, I suspect. This two-week layover was to allow me to get things in order so we could go back. If I am down here again permanently, there isn’t as much to do. In fact, we could head north again in a few days.”

The pre-dinner snuggle was nice, as Stone and Kalo left after dessert to go to a bar. Kalo had met someone who had actually been born on the other side of the ocean, and Stone wanted to talk to him.

In the Kithren bar, Stone met the oldest man he had ever seen. He turned out to be 92, and while he had been born on the south shore, his family had sailed across when he was two, so he had no actual memories of the other side. What he did have was memories of the tales his parents and uncles had told him in his youth: nearly as useful as first hand memories.

“Do you know about the three towers?” Stone asked after getting the man’s glass refilled.

“Oh yes, they talked about them all the time,” the man mumbled. “There are four sections of the land down there. The very east is not controlled by the towers, but it is a land of magic anyway. There are unicorns, horses with silver horns in their foreheads, and fairies: tiny women about this high,” he held his had a foot off the table, “and they have four wings each, and can fly about, casting spells and causing trouble.

The eastern tower is stone, and about 150 feet tall. The oldest of the wizards lives there, and he controls all the land around. He makes odd beasts: centaurs that are half woman and half horse, sometimes with male horse parts, and sometimes with female parts. The front part is always woman, though, with big breasts like a dolly. Then there are werewolves, huge things, nearly as big as a horse. They have huge fangs and sharp teeth, and especially like eating humans. There are mermaids in the river but you aren’t likely to see them, cause they live in the river that surrounds the tower. They have huge teeth like the werewolves, and they can strip a carcass down to the bone in five minutes: less if there is more than one. The centaurs are vegan, eating no meat, but they love to throw people into the river and watch the mermaids tear up the prey they carry to the river.”

“That sounds pretty scary,” Stone said.

“It is,” the old man agreed, “especially when you consider that almost all of the creatures were once human. The wizard can’t make his beasts intelligent without starting with a person.”

“What about the other towers?” Stone asked.

“I dunno as much about them, seeing as we lived in the east,” the ancient said. “The central tower is further back, and doesn’t reach the ocean at all. I do know that it is where the wizard makes the Dollys, but I don’t know how. Somehow they just appear on this side of the sea. He must have an agent or something over here and some way to get them here. And to get the money back: I know Dollys cost a lot of money, and only rich men can afford them. I have no idea what he uses for guarding his castle. One uncle said he has Amazonian women, nearly eight feet tall, but I can’t be sure.”

“The third tower is in the west then,” Stone prodded.

“Yes, and I don’t know a lot about that. The Kithren desert is there, and that is where we Kithrens all originally lived. I think the wizard there uses his magic to enslave the remaining people.”

“But Kithrens never would allow themselves to be slaves,” Kalo said angrily.

“If the wizard has magic, then they wouldn’t have a choice,” the old man explained. “He has enslaved thousands, maybe millions, and they provide him with his power. They work his fields, man his factories, and fish his seas. Not only that, they also protect him from any intruders.”

It was late and the old man was starting to nod off. Apparently he had a table in the corner and he tottered over to it, put his head down, and was soon asleep. Stone and Kalo rose and went out, walking back to the house. Kalo was incensed at the thought of his people being enslaved, and vowed to stop at nothing to free them.

“Well, I suspect we can’t free them until we meet up with the other wizards first,” Stone said. “Rayla and I want to find out how and why we were transported here, along with Arthur and Doug. I don’t think any of us want to go back, but it would be nice to find out how we got here, and why.”

Soon they were at home. Stone went into the house and Kalo went back to the caravan he had been sleeping in.

Stone

Chapter 39 – Back to Greenstone

The next morning Cass peeked out the front window to see a dozen children waiting on the steps. She headed back to the kitchen to make more porridge for the school breakfast.

When Rayla opened the door, there were a dozen students, and four more appeared before breakfast was over. With 16 students today, she had to do a comprehensive review, since nearly half the class had not been in the prior day. Never the less she managed to have a productive class with the children, and was proud to see some progress before they broke at noon for sandwiches that Cass had made for the lunch. A few kids took their sandwiches home with them, making Rayla consider that some of them would be sharing with younger siblings or a parent. She told Jason and the three boys who had been eating supper at the house that they were to stay after all the others left.

When the schoolroom was finally empty, except for the four, Rayla told them to come with her, and led the four boys into town. She stopped at the shoemaker’s shop, and ordered shoes for each of them. The man had some children’s shoes ready made in various sizes. The two brothers had no shoes, and their friend was wearing a tattered pair that was at least two sizes too small. The cobbler was able to fit all three with acceptable shoes. Jason was a little too large for the pre-made shoes, and the pair he was wearing was still in good shape, so he was measured and the cobbler promised to have new shoes for him in a week.

Next Rayla led the boys to the fabric store. She bought a bolt of heavy denim, and a lighter bolt of material suitable for t-shirts. Jason carried the denim and one of the other boys carried the other roll of fabric.

As the boys walked, Rayla quizzed Kinn about his aunt Joli as they walked to her house. She was a widow with four children, whose father never returned from a whaling trip when no survivors returned to town. She was Kinn’s mother’s sister. Both of Kinn’s parents had died: his father was on the same whaling ship and his mother died of a broken heart during a mild epidemic that struck the town several months later. Kinn had been living on his own since then, and had joined up with the Broyson brothers: another pair of orphans. Kinn was eight, Konce Broyson was nine and his brother Keyne was seven.

Rayla led the boys to Joli’s house, with her four children playing in the yard. Two girls seemed older, perhaps early teens, and the two boys were about the ages of the boys Rayla was with.

Joli invited Rayla in, and the white woman told the boys to set down their bundles and run out to play with the others. “I understand you do sewing,” Rayla stated.

“I do. That is nice material,” she noted looking at the bolts of fabric.

“Yes, the boys all need new clothes. Three of them are in little better than rags,” Rayla said.

Joli looked embarrassed. “Kinn is my nephew. I should have made something for him. But my boys are younger, so hand-me-downs wouldn’t work. I have the time that I could make something, but not the money for fabric. I have fed the three of them occasionally, when I had money, but most days there isn’t enough to feed my four.”

“Well, I want jeans for the four of them. Three pairs each. I bought the material myself so you could get right on it. After the jeans are done, they each need new t-shirts. Five each, I think. I saw that jeans in the store were a silver each, and shirts are three pence. I know that custom clothes sewn by a professional are worth more, but I am supplying material. Are those rates okay?”

“More than enough,” Joli said. 12 pairs of jeans were 12 silvers, and 20 shirts would be several more silvers. Plus the work would keep her busy for several weeks, even if no other work came in.

“Here is a gold as advance payment,” Rayla said, watching the huge smile spread across the woman’s face. As Rayla had guessed, this was probably one of the days when the children were not expecting to be fed.

“Bless you, madam,” Joli gasped. “The money will go to a good cause: the cupboards are pretty bare right now.

“I want to tell you about the new school I teach at. All four of the boys attend, and will learn to read and write, as well as learning their numbers. You might want to send your four. The children all get fed a bowl of oatmeal each morning. Little brains work better if they are fueled up beforehand. And they get a sandwich for lunch after class is over.”

Joli’s smile just got wider. That would mean her little ones would be fed two meals at the school five days a week, stretching her meager grocery budget. “They will definitely come tomorrow,” she said.

“Okay, I will expect them,” Rayla said, taking a deep breath. “This bit is kind of sensitive. Do you have room here for three more boys: your nephew and his friends? I know you can’t afford to feed them. Stone and I will pay you for their meals and clothes. But do you have room?”

“I do have a spare room,” the woman said hesitantly. “It should be big enough for three, if the brothers were in bunk beds like my boys are.”

Rayla handed over another gold. This should buy meals for them for the next two months. I will make sure you get another in eight weeks. Joli stared at the coin. It would be enough to feed her entire family for two months, with better food than they were used to. There could be meat in their diets again. “You are an angel sent from the sun god,” Joli said. “I love my nephew and you don’t know how much it hurts me to see him running wild. And I’m sure that I can love the brothers as well, given some time. They are both good boys.”

“We think so,” Rayla said. “My husband is all in favor of supporting them, but feels that we cannot adopt them. You will need to get beds made and purchase some warm blankets. In fact, get new blankets for the whole family. If the merchant’s are worried about payment, send them to me and I will pay them in whole or a deposit, depending on what they need.”

Joli was in tears. All the struggles of the past four years seemed to be over. Rayla took her into her arms and let her sob it out. Finally the black woman stood and took a deep breath then led Rayla to the door. On the stoop she shouted, and all the children stopped their games. “Come on you lot,” she said. “We are going to the grocery market to get some food for dinner tonight, and a bit more. You three boys come along. You are having dinner here tonight, and I have a room upstairs for you. You’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight, but we’ll get you beds soon enough.”

Kinn rushed up to his aunt and wrapped his arms around her legs. “Are you going to look after us, Auntie?” he said. “Really and truly?”

“Yes I am,” Joli said. “And your friends too. You can call me Momma if you want.”

The brothers came over slowly, but joined Kinn in hugging the woman, who had some tears in her eyes as Rayla took Jason by the hand and led him towards their house.

When they got back home, they found a bustle of activity in the stables at the rear of the house. Stone had decided to return to Greenstone as quickly as possible, and this meant that all the wagoneers were busy loading the wagons: mostly with barrels of whale oil, the main export of the town. There were seven wagons, and one of the caravans going north. The soldiers, who had been doing little actual work since the family got to Westport weeks ago, were now sharpening their tools and drilling in anticipation of the trip north. Kalosun was busy ordering the men about, but he was not going north. He was staying in Westport to look after the family and act as Stone’s temporary southern agent. He would keep an eye on the construction of the ship, as well as making contact with the Kithren sailors, trying to build up a crew for when the ship was ready to sail.

Stone walked up to Rayla and gave her a mighty hug. He was going to be gone for about a month, the longest the two had been apart since they arrived in this world. It was going to be difficult for both of them, although Rayla had her school to look after, and Stone would be busy with the wagon train.

At the family meal at the end of the day Stone announced that everything was ready for the train to leave at first light. He did warn Cass that she would need an early breakfast for the men, but thereafter she would be able to slow down a bit, with many fewer mouths to feed as the wagoneers and soldiers would no longer need to be fed. Future trips south would be a much quicker turnaround, with only a day for two to repair wagons and tack and reload for the trip north.

The next morning Stone hugged and kissed Rayla, held a sobbing Emily, and shook hands with Jason, telling the boy that he was now the man of the house. It wasn’t true: Kalosun would be around. But the young lad put on a stoic face even though there were tears in the corners of his eyes at the thought of the man who he had grown to think of as his father leaving.

The train didn’t actually get moving until near 9 a.m.: two hours late. There were a half-dozen youngsters from the town chasing it down the main street, mainly white boys, since most of the Kithreen boys were in Rayla’s school.

The trip north went as planned. There was no stop in Golden: a local merchant bought a single barrel of whale oil, and the train barely had to stop. In Sarn there were more sales, with a full wagon of barrels sold. Stone was pleased with the progress in the town. Without onerous taxation the commercial base of the town was re-establishing itself, and most shop windows were full. There were fewer derelict looking buildings as well.

Another wagon was emptied in Greenford, where Sarn made a side trip to the hatchery and found that it was also thriving. The empty wagons from Sarn and Greenford were filled with bolts of material from the fabric mills. Stone had worried that without Rayla along he would have trouble deciding what to buy, but there was a young Kithren woman in the store and she took over, merely asking how much he wanted to spend. Then she chose a variety of bolts to load the two wagons. She was much more useful than the bigoted man who had kicked Kalosun out of the shop on their last visit.

Four days later they arrived in Greenstone after a quick stop in Greenwood to sell more oil. In the once familiar town Stone found the seamstresses loved his choices of fabric, and the rest of the oil was off-loaded. The men were only given two days off while bags of coal were loaded onto the empty wagons. O’Breyne was given the caravan, and it was parked at Stone’s home. On the ride north Stone had decided that Rayla and Stone would give the house to O’Breyne if and when he married, but until then he was to live in the caravan. The house would be the northern depot, saving Stone from having to sell it.

Stone spent the next few days visiting various friends in the town, and letting them know he was going to be in Westport for the next two years, and then overseas for a time. He didn’t expect to be back for four or five years. However his transport business was going to continue, sending a train of eight wagons of coal every week and returning with whale oil and textiles.

When the new train south left, Stone started thinking about the business he had seemingly fallen into. The first night on the road to Greenwood the train stopped at a spot where there appeared to have been used before: there were well used fire pits on the site.

As the men set up the camp, Stone realized that this was a lot of wasted effort. Why not have a permanent camp here, with dorms for the men, stables for the livestock, and an eating-place. There could also be relief horses kept here, so that if one was injured or worn out from the trip, they could be changed out. This would mean that relief horses would no longer have to accompany the train.

The main inputs would be the cost of buildings, plus at least two staff: possibly a husband and wife. This would be offset by the benefits of having a regular place to overnight, without the effort of setting up a camp each time. There was a train going each way once a week, two stops. During the other times the staff could be doing maintenance and tending a garden to provide some of the food.

He looked in either direction. In each case there was a rise about a mile off, so wagon trains could be seen coming 20 to 30 minutes before they arrived. This would allow the staff to start preparing meals, heating the barracks to take the chill off in colder weather, and heating water for baths. Normally the men arrived at the end points of the trip smelling pretty ripe. With baths they would be able to clean up, especially on the last leg before coming home to their wifes or girlfriends.

And there were five or six other companies that used the route. They could pay to stay in the new facilities. And in this location, the land was wild: there would be no cost for the land. In the other locations further south Stone may have to buy land, although it was possible that one of the landowners in the area might want to be the camp staff and sell.

The longer he thought about it, the more he liked the plan. He even wondered if it was possible to use the camps as a way of setting up an express transport system. It takes a wagon six days at best to get from Three Rivers/Sarn to Greenstone. But if the riders rode at a faster pace, knowing that they and the horses would only have to go to the next stop the trip could be made in a day. Both driver and horse would stop at a camp and hand over the parcel to another rider, making a non-stop service for messages and small packages. If nothing else it would allow Stone to rapidly communicate with his station agents.

He resolved to do so, and arranged for a builder in Greenwood to start working as soon as possible. He then chose a location for a site south of Greenwood, and hired a crew of Kithrens to build a facility there once he got to Greenford. He took a young Kithren boy with him as they headed south and selected a site between that town and Golden. The boy walked back and informed the buildings in Greenford where to build another camp.

The final camp was a day north of Westport, so builders from there were hired. By chance it was quite near the site of Stone’s dreams about dragons, so he hesitatingly took Doug there while the men were setting up.

Stone

Chapter 40 – Dragons, part 2

Stone rode Doug out to the site where his dragon dreams had occurred, and pulled up, feeling more than a little trepidation. This caused him to pull out Pate, even though he had felt no imminent danger. He immediately went into battle mode, where everything appeared slow motion with wire frame shapes.

A red wire-frame dragon appeared in the distance, a sign of danger. Then Stone noticed the young dragon-rider atop it. It apparently thought it was invisible, and decided that the huge man and big horse would make a tasty snack, and started to swoop in. Immediately Stone remembered the dreams he had last year about fighting the dragon, and hoped he could defeat it in real life.

As the dragon swooped at Doug, the big horse jumped to the left, and Pate snaked out to slice off the dragon’s front foreleg. It made a hideous screech, unable to imagine how the man had seen it while the dragon-rider wore the invisibility corset. The dragon flapped its wings to regain altitude, but before it had lifted more than five feet from the ground, Pate swung again, and struck its tail on the far side of the body. Another massive screech, and flame spurted out of the gaping hole in the tail. Stone had remembered to cut on the far side to prevent the flames from pouring out at Doug and him.

With the hole in its tail, the dragon could not fly, and Pate made quick work of it by slicing through the neck. The dragon-rider fell off, and suddenly the beast could be seen in real vision as the magic sword hacked off the left wing. The animal was dead.

Meanwhile, he noticed a wavering of the air around the tip of Pate. «I am drawing magic from the dragon and from the corset,» Pate sang. «So much power.»

Stone looked around, and saw the dragon-rider on the ground, the golden corset next to her. “Thank you sir,” she said feebly. “You don’t know what a curse immortality can be.” Stone noticed that she was rapidly aging, and now looked to be an old woman and not the teenager she was a minute ago.

“You should harvest the dragon scales,” her voice said weakly. “The silver underside and the gold on top are on sheets that are a fireproof material. The scales are hard to remove at first, but later can easily be rubbed off. They are valuable. Thank you again,” and with that she died: a withered up carcass. Meanwhile, Pate was continuing to draw magic in from the dead dragon, and the corset. It looked like a stream of brightly colored steam rushing into the point of the sword.

Stone had harvested scales in his dreams, and in real life managed to get twelve sheets of silver and 15 of gold before the dragon started to disintegrate. The last item to disappear was the severed claw, but four long talons remained, along with a small dewclaw. The girl had dissolved into dust as well, with only her dress remaining: and the corset.

Stone picked up the corset, and immediately disappeared into a wireframe world. He gasped, and flung the corset away, watching it strike Doug’s head. At the instant it touched him; the big horse disappeared.

Stone gasped again, and moved over to where the horse was standing.

«Get this damned thing off me,» Doug said as soon as Stone bumped into the invisible horse. He also could see the wireframes while he was touching his horse. No doubt he was invisible.

“Not yet,” Stone said. “Let’s use this trick to get our loot back to the camp.” So Stone piled the sheets of scales onto his saddle, followed by the talons and dewclaw. He picked up Pate, which was now longer drawing magic and placed her back into the scabbard. They walked back to the camp, with Stone balancing the scales onto the saddle as they moved to the empty wagon Stone was planning to sleep under. He piled the scales into his wagon, along with the talons, and then went to Doug’s head and was able to peel the corset off the horse’s neck. Finally freed, the horse whinnied mightily and the others finally noticed them.

“We didn’t see you return,” one of the wagoneers said. “Do you want me to unsaddle your horse?”

“No, I will do it,” Stone said. “He needs some attention from me.”

«Damned right I do,” Doug said. «That damned thing just felt so wrong. It tightened around my neck and for a few seconds I thought it was going to choke me. But it was just tight, not crippling. But it felt horrible.»

When Doug was unsaddled, Stone noticed all the men staring at him. “What?” he finally asked.

“Yer glowing’,” one of the wagoneers said, “An’ all kinda sparkly.”

Stone looked down, and noticed that his arms and legs were sparkling in different colors. Except for the color it looked like electricity from the old world, but Pate sang that it was the surplus magic. She said she was overloaded with the stuff.

Stone drew the sword, which was much more sparkly than his arms were. He pointed Pate to the sky, and she started singing so loud that the men could near her. Blasts of light, about one per second, shot out the end of the sword, which was pointed to the south. As they got to the area above Westport, they exploded like fireworks, exploding in the sky above the town.

“I hope that doesn’t scare the people,” Stone thought. “It really is quite pretty from here.”

Over 500 blasts of light went up, taking less than a quarter of an hour, and then Pate gently sang that the surplus was gone. The men could no longer hear her but Stone could.

“That were right purty,” the wagoneer said.

“Yeah, but the show’s over, so into your bedroll. I want to get into town early tomorrow.”

In town, the sound of the exploding fireworks woke most people in town. The whites noticed that the brilliant colors were largely exploding over the Kithren areas. From town it looked like a shooting star, except going up rather than down, and mostly colored rather than just white. When the “stars” exploded into different shapes and patterns it became clear that they were not harmful. But every explosion left a small, cold, and dark lump of magic that fell to earth, almost each landing on a garden.

Later Stone would learn later that this was why the magic was concentrated above the Kithren areas. The white homes seldom had a garden while almost every Kithren home did, to allow for free food to stretch their budget.

Rayla was out early in the show, and soon was joined by Cass. Jason and Emily soon woke, and came out to join their mother. Sissy was last to waken, coming out for the final part of the show.

“What is it mommy?” Emily asked.

“I don’t know, but I think that your father is involved. Can you hear the woman singing? That is Pate,” his sword.”

“I hear it,” Jason said, and soon the others did too. “Does that mean Daddy is near?”

“I hope so,” Rayla said. “It looks like the lights were coming from about where the last camp is. If so, he should be home just after noon time.”

Both of the children cheered. “Come on now, back to bed for all of you. Especially Cass if she is getting up early to make bread.”

Cass did get a few hours of sleep, and rose early to start a batch of bread. It was not needed for the breakfast: the children got oatmeal and a piece of fruit for that. But when the bread was rising, she went out into the morning sun to weed her garden. It had been rather feeble when she joined the family. There had been nothing new planted in the spring when the houses were empty, and only a few things came up from the prior year. But she had tended it faithfully, planting a few late vegetables and knocking down the weeds.

But she was amazed at what she found. The garden was full and lush, with tomato bushes heavily laden with large, red, ripe fruits. The late corn she had planted weeks ago was now six feet high with several cobs on each stalk. It looked as though it would be ready to harvest in weeks, not months. The single lettuce she was nursing from last year was ripe, and nearly the size of a basketball. She plucked it, and some tomatoes and she noticed more lettuce heads, not quite as large or ripe, but looking wonderful.

Rayla came out and was amazed as well. “It is like magic,” Cass whispered to her. “Those lights last night? Do you think they are related?”

“Possibly,” the white woman said. “We will have to see if Stone knows anything about it. He should be home for dinner. And make him lunch as well, in case he shows up hungry.”

“Lettuce and Tomato sandwiches on fresh bread,” Cass said with a smile. “And the kids will get the same for lunch.”

The school was booming. There were 140 students now, from ages six to 16. Rayla taught a group of older students, and had found five other teachers from town. Only two were Kithren: the others were young white girls who had finished the feeble excuse for education that white girls were allowed. But they could read, write and do their numbers so were qualified to teach beginners.

The Kithren teachers taught home economics to both boys and girls, and one taught Geography, although it was really Jason who taught the class since he had been in most of the towns in the valley.

The entire house was now used as classrooms, with four different rooms in use at one time. There were four classes in the morning, and three in the afternoon, with an average of 20 students per class. The morning (or noon) oatmeal was the lure that brought the students in: the sandwich at the end of the classes kept the students interested in learning, and after a month Rayla was pleased with her little school, even though it was starting to burst at the seams. Cass no longer could provide all the food: Rayla had hired three other Kithren ladies to assist her.

Kalosun was an affiliate teacher, and took the odd class outdoors to learn about the environment and Kithren culture. These were always morning classes: in the afternoon he was down at the waterfront, getting to know the sailors that Stone needed for his ship, and occasionally going to the shipbuilders to check on progress there.

Stone also saw some of the work on his ship about an hour out of the camp on the trail that morning. His wagons passed several work crews in an oak grove. He sent the wagons on and visited the lumbermen. There were three crews of two men each felling big oaks. Once down, about 20 men would hop onto a felled tree and strip it of branches. There were wagons waiting to haul the timbers away. Stone wandered over to the man clearly in charge.

“Who are the trees for?” he asked the man.

“For the shipyard,” the man answered tersely as he surveyed his crews to make sure all were working efficiently.

“They are for me then,” Stone announced. “I am having a ship built there.” The man immediately turned to Stone, realizing this was an important person. He then explained what the various crews were doing, and his hope that they would get twelve oaks down and shipped off to the waterfront each day. Apparently the contract was for 144 trees.

“What happens to all the branches and such that are cut from the trees?” Stone asked. “They seem to be in the way of the other work.”

“Aye,” the man said. “Usually Kithrens come clear the limbs away for firewood. But they are a lazy lot, and with little need for firewood at this time of year, it just sits here. They’ll be sad when they come for it in late fall or winter. It will have dried out by then and dry wood is much harder to cut or split.”

Stone decided he had let his wagons get far enough ahead of him, and hurried to catch up. Their early start had paid off, and they entered the town at noon, and were at the house a half hour later. Stone saw Kalosun walking down the street towards the dock eating a sandwich, and got him to jump up on a wagon as Stone rode Doug alongside.

“Do you have any good men? They are cutting trees down out in the oak grove, and there is a need for men to clear away the undergrowth. There is a lot of good firewood up there and I’d like to get some wood collected for winter. A cord should do for the two houses, and if we get more we can sell it.”

“Aye,” Kalo said. “I’ve been lining up men for the ship. Sailors aren’t great woodsmen, but a couple are hurting for work. And I’ve met some unemployed woodsmen too. Do you need wagons?”

“It would be best,” Stone said. “I don’t want to delay the caravan trip north, and all those are needed. If your men have wagons, they could be hired: if not we should buy a couple.”

“I’ll get right on it,” the black man said, hopping off the slow-moving wagon and heading back to the waterfront.

Stone then trotted off ahead, wanting to meet his wife, and also hoping to get a good lunch. The sandwich Kalo was eating looked and smelled amazing.

Rayla, enjoying her mid day break, saw her man dismount, and squealed and ran towards him, leaping onto his waist and allowing him to carry her into the kitchen. Cass was there, and as soon as she saw the Captain, she placed a fry pan on the stove, and filled it with bacon. The students had gotten Tomato and Lettuce sandwiches, but the Captain would get a full BLT, with six strips of bacon. Five, as Jason filched one as Cass was making the sandwich. He darted out the door as Stone yelled at him. Emily heard the yells, and ran to her father, hugging his legs since he hadn’t let his wife go yet.

“How is the school going?” the giant asked as he started munching the huge sandwich.

“Fine,” Rayla said, finally ending her kiss to avoid getting smeared with his meal. “No. Actually the house is too small. We need another building, but nothing else is for sale near here. Or we can build a school house: that would be ideal.”

“Spending more of our gold, are we?” Stone said.

“We have lots, and you’re lucky you say ‘our’ and not ‘my’,” the pretty woman said. “No sense having a fight on the first day home. Speaking of home, are you responsible for the light show last night just after dusk? I thought I heard Pate singing.”

“Yes. A bit of magic to get rid of after slaying a dragon.”

“The one from your dreams?” Stone nodded. “Anyway, the weirdest thing happened. Our garden just bloomed. And more than a dozen students say the same thing happened at the gardens at their house. People are harvesting months early, and everything is so big and tasty. The lettuce and tomatoes you are devouring are from our garden.”

“It must be the magic,” Stone said. “It seemed to be a lot of magic just for some pretty lights. So it made the gardens grow.”

That evening the family dinner was delightful, with fresh vegetables from the garden, as well as a roast pig. Kalosun suggested a Kithren feast would have been better, but couldn’t complain. The family ate Kithren food three times a week, occasionally four. He told Stone that he had found two men with wagons, and each was planning to take five men to the oak grove to gather firewood. Stone explained the areas alongside the houses where he wanted the cordwood stacked, and delegated Kalo to find an empty lot where the surplus wood could be stored.

Rayla then took over the discussion, pleading for her new school building. Kalo chimed in: “You should build it Kithren style.”

“What is that?” Stone asked.

“The traditional Kithren buildings are roundhouses,” the black man said. “About half the houses on this side of town are round, although there seems to be more and more square houses built that do not honor our lady the sun.”

“I’ve seen those round houses,” Stone said. “Surely they are too small for a school?”

“Not really,” Kalo explained. “The houses are small because they need to be. But you can build a round house as big as your trees allow. The shipbuilder controls all the oak in the area, but if you use pines you can get usable trees 100 to 120 feet high in the area to the east. That would allow a round house of 60 feet high, with a floor space a circle 200 feet in diameter.”

“That is a big room. We could get all the students in the one room for assemblies or events,” Rayla noted. But what about classrooms: do we use smaller round houses?”

“No,” Kalo said. “We build another structure leaning against the walls of the big house. You could make it any width, say 40 feet, and surround the big room.”

Rayla jumped up, got a sheet of paper and a pencil and sketched the round house and surrounding collar of space. Then she did some math and calculated that the outer area would be about 628 feet long. “If each classroom is 60 feet long, we could have 10 classrooms,” she said.

And you could add an aisle and then another 10 classrooms outside of that,” Kalo said.

“More,” Rayla pointed out. If the hall was 10 feet wide, then that circle would be 300 feet wide, and the circumference would be 942 feet long. Another 15 rooms. That would be larger than the school could ever get.”

“So you need a building lot that is at least 300 feet wide and deep,” Stone said.

“More,” Rayla said. “We really need a playground attached to it. In winter students will play in the big room, but we need to let them get fresh air when the weather is nice. Can we afford it?”

“We can afford a dozen buildings like that,” Stone said. “I came into some wealth after slaying the dragon, and we can’t take all our gold with us when we sail over the ocean. Kalo, ask around and see if there are any lots of the size we need. We should start work as soon as possible: there are a lot of men looking for work these days. We will also need a builder. A Kithren if we are building it in that style.”

Stone

Chapter 41 – Waiting

Stone woke early the next morning, hearing a buzz of noise from outside the house. Looking out the window, he saw that the street was clogged with people. There was a steady stream of children in front of the new house, standing in a queue and slowly coming into that house to get a bowl of oatmeal. Stone went to the washroom, and opening the door, heard squeals of outrage from the three young girls inside.

“That is the girls’ room now,” Rayla told him as he stood stunned outside the room. The one in the other house is for boys. Can you go there?”

“I guess,” he said as he walked down the stairs, across the yard, and to the schoolhouse, where he let out a roar to tell the boys waiting in line there that he was next. The short trip had one good facet. Cass, hard at work in the kitchen, had seen him pass, and started his breakfast. He arrived to a plate with three eggs, bacon and toast waiting for him. He sat at the kitchen table to eat, managing to rap a passing Jason on the knuckles as the boy tried to filch a rasher of bacon as he passed by to get his own breakfast. Like all the other children, Jason and Emily ate oatmeal, but didn’t have to line up to get it from the breakfast workers. They, and Rayla were served from one of Cass’s large pots. Sissy joined them at the table, and then everyone went off to their tasks for the day.

Stone joined Kalosun on the steps of the porch. The man was organizing the men standing there into teams. There were four men with wagons and each wagon was assigned six men, most of whom had axes, although some held two-man saws. Five more men were assigned to the rear of the houses, so they could split wood as it came in. Of course there would not be much work for them until the first wagons returned, so they were told to tidy up the yard and clear space for the wood to be piled.

Soon the wagons left, carrying the men. By then the children were all gone into the houses, which were teeming with students in the various rooms. Stone let out a gasp: the noise from within was still overpowering. He turned to Kalo and suggested that they head down to the docks to see how the ship was coming.

Stone was amazed at the progress in about a month. The spine was up, as well as a skeleton of timbers reaching skyward. Men were at the bottom of the ship, starting to place planks between the timbers. You could see the decks, starting with the bilge deck at the bottom where the steering ropes and chains would be: the steerage.

Next up was a deck midships, and above it another, followed by the surface decks, which were not yet started. At either end of the vessel there would be higher decks in the forecastle and aft castle.

“What do you think of her?” the shipbuilder said as he approached his customer. “She’s the biggest ship I’ve ever built. I noticed you stooping in my office, so I decided to make the decks 9 foot high rather than the normal six or seven. It’ll cost me a bit more for the wood, but at least you won’t have to stoop during the entire trip. Even your big horse will enjoy not being cramped.”

“It will cost you nothing,” Stone said. “I can’t have you losing money for implementing a good idea. Work out the extra cost, plus a profit, and let me know. We’ll add it to the bill. Now, when do you think it will be ready to sail. I need to arrange a crew.”

“Two months to 10 weeks, if the weather stays nice. Hurricane season starts in seven weeks, but we should be closed in by then. Sails won’t be ready much before then anyway. But you should line up a crew soon. It won’t be easy finding officers willing to sail across the ocean.”

“We won’t make that trip for a couple more years,” Stone said. “Until then we will just cruise up to Lakeport and back on trade trips.”

“Good idea,” the man said. “That will give you time to shake the ship down. There are usually leaks and other things that need to be looked after. If they aren’t serious, bring the ship in here and we’ll fix them up: no charge. A lot easier for my men to do it than your crew while at sea.”

Stone spent another 15 minutes looking over his ship, and then led Kalo out to the main street. They walked along, talking about needs for the ships crew. They saw a group of boys playing stickball on the beach, and Stone noted his surprise that there were any Kithren boys in the town not at the school.

“Those boys go to the afternoon classes,” Kalo said. “Some of them are in my culture class.” He waved one of the boys over, and all of them came. Kalo asked them to run a favor for him, and rapidly sang out a list of names. The boys ran off in different directions.

He then led Stone to a Kithren bar. There was a destitute white man sitting in rags outside the bar, with his hat open on the ground. Stone dropped a silver into the hat. “He’ll use that for a meal, and then get himself drunk on the rest,” Kalo said. “He is a sad tale. He was captain of a whaler once, but the ship went down. The coward left on the first boat out, rather than the last, as is traditional for a captain. As a result, no one will sail with him, and no one will hire him.”

Inside the bar, which was low ceilinged, requiring Stone to stoop, Kalo found a man, one of those he thought could man Stone’s ship. Stone talked to the man for a half hour, and was impressed, finally giving the man three silvers. It was traditional for a captain or shipowner to pay one silver to commit a man to sail for him, but Stone felt that since it would be weeks before the ship sailed, he should pay a little more.

During the half hour, the boys had returned, along with another dozen or so men. Kalo paid each boy a penny, and then started bringing more men to talk to Stone.

Stone was even more impressed by the second man, who had an air of command about him. “Can you read and write?” he asked. “Do sums?”

“No sir,” the man said sadly. “There was no place to learn, until that new school opened up. My kids all go there, and are learning to read. The oldest, Koon, can read now. He brings home a book from the school library most nights. It is The Whaler’s Tale, and he reads aloud from after supper until dark. The whole family, and my brother next door, ring around him. It is quite an exciting story, all about whalers chasing a rogue whale. The younger children read too, with him helping them along. It gives his voice a rest, and helps the youngsters improve, but mostly he does the reading. I wish I had the skill.”

“Perhaps you could,” Stone said. “What if you started to take lessons in the evenings? My wife taught him, she could teach you.”

“Everyone knows that Kithrens are too stupid to learn,” the man said. “And I would miss out on Koon’s readings.”

“Well, it looks like Koon is proof that Kithrens can learn,” Stone said. “And after a little while you would be able to read the book yourself. I think you are a smart man, just uneducated. If you learn to read and write, and do sums, you could wind up a mate on my ship, maybe even a captain one day.”

The man sat back in amazement. All his life people had told him he was stupid, and he had started to believe them. Now this big white man said he was smart, and could be a captain or a mate. Unbelievable. And the man had pressed three silvers into his hand. Silvers that were much needed to stock the family larder.

Stone and Kalo continued to interview men through the morning. At noon Kalo said he would have to leave in a half hour to go teach his classes. Just then the old white captain came in and sat down to eat. Stone and Kalo joined him as he was showing the waiter his silver, to prove he could pay for a meal.

“I’ll pay for all three of us,” Stone told the waiter, who went off to get three bowls of stew.

“Much appreciated,” the old captain said.

“Not a problem,” Stone replied. “I have heard of your story.”

The man turned red. “Stupidest thing I’ve done in my life,” the old man said.

“Well, I happen to believe in second chances,” Stone said. “Would you like to be a captain again?”

“More than anything,” the old man said. “But I’ve heard your story too. You plan to sail across the ocean in that big ship they are building down in the shipyards. I’ve no desire to die in the middle of the ocean.”

“Well, I plan to sail the coastal trade route to Lakeport and back for a few years to train a crew,” Stone said. “Would you be my captain for that?”

“A coastal route? Hardly ever out of sight of land? Aye, I could do that.”

“It would be a fully Kithren crew,” Stone said. “I’m going to train them to read and write: the mates at least. And do sums.”

“Sums is the hard part: sailing, as mate or captain, means learning to do much more than that: casting routes, navigating, reading the stars. Way too much for a dumb Kithren to learn?”

“What about a smart Kithren?” Stone said. “We have a school, and Kithren children are learning just as well as whites do. We plan to start teaching their fathers soon. In fact we could start you off as a teacher. You could start by teaching them the stars and such.”

“I sold off my sextant a few months back,” the captain said. “And you are right. I’ve had a few darkies on board the whalers who were right smart. If they had their letters and numbers, I bet they would wind up as good as my mates.”

Kalo stood up to leave. Before he left, he borrowed a pencil and scrap of paper from the waiter, and scratched something out on it. He handed it to the captain. It read: “A Kithren can write,” in childish block letters. Stone was amazed. He didn’t know the man could read and write, and only later learned that Emily had been teaching him what Rayla had taught the girl on the wagon trips. The captain was also amazed.

“Is he one of those who will be mates?” the captain asked as Kalo stooped through the door.

“No. Maybe,” Stone dithered. “I didn’t know he could write, although I knew he could handle money. But he has no experience on ships. I think. He will probably be on the crew of the vessel though.”

Stone continued: “But I want you to start teaching some men, probably six. The best three will be mates, and the others will be some other title on the ship.”

“Masters,” the captain suggested.”

“Right, masters then,” Stone continued. “I want you in two days. You will need to have some better clothes, and have bathed and trimmed that beard down. I know captains often wear a beard, but that one is a mess. If you can’t get a place to clean up, then go to the Kithren school and Rayla will let you use the shower there. And I want you to be sober for at least 24-hours before. Here is a gold to buy meals, clothes and what you need. I’ll get your sextant from the pawnshop. This is your second chance: don’t mess it up.”

The captain left, and Stone resumed interviewing the men that the boys had gathered. He found four more who seemed to have potential, and told them to come to the evening school in two days.

He had just finished with the last man when he saw Kalo come into the bar. “You better come quick, captain. Rayla finished supper an hour ago, and that was after waiting a half hour for you. If you don’t hurry, Cass will have fed your pork chitterlings to the dogs and you’ll only get the left over porridge from lunch. And they were some good chitterlings.”

Stone left the bar. It was still light out, but most of the stores on main street were closed, including the pawn shop that held the sextants. Just as well. Stone knew it would take him an hour to get through a place like that, and his mouth was watering at the thought of pork. He managed to get home in time. Emily ran up to hug him when he entered the living room, while Rayla just turned her back to him. He crept wordlessly into the kitchen, where Cass still had a small helping of pork. The cook apologized at not having as many as she felt Stone would need, noting that Jason had plucked two extras out of the pile. But the broad black cook did have sufficient potatoes and sides to fill the big man up.

Stone considered himself a brave man, but once he had taken his dishes to the sink to be washed, he snuck out the back door. He found the yard covered in scrub brush. There was over a quarter cord of wood chopped up beside the house, and other logs left where the men were working on them. Their tools were neatly stacked at the back of the shed. Stone felt five cords of the oak would keep the fires going through the winter in the two houses. The smaller branches were in a pile. Stone would have Kalo send out the word that these would be free for the taking to the people in town. Perhaps this could keep some of the widows and injured seamen warm through the winter. At the last Stone noticed one twig, and snapped it from the branch it was on.

He carried it into the house, and went to the living room, where Rayla was ready to let him have a blast for holding up dinner. He stood and took it for nearly ten minutes as Sissy and Emily cowered in the corner. Finally as she started to wind down, he took the twig and bent it back, so that it formed the shape of a heart. He accompanied that with a silly grin, and at last Rayla melted, and she ran up to him: “I can’t stay angry at you, you miserable lunk.” The girls in the corner jumped for glee at the end of their parents’ argument.

“But next time you are late, let me know,” she said.

“Time just slipped away,” Stone confessed. “I should have sent a boy to tell you. And speaking of boys, I learned that one of your students named Koon reads to his whole family each night. They all gather round and he reads a book from the school. His siblings take turns to give him a rest, but the whole family, and the neighbors gather around to listen. It’s like the radio in the old days.”

“Koon is probably my best male reader,” Rayla said. “He is better than Jason. When he took that book I thought it was too hard for him. I love that he is enjoying it. And that explains why his sister and brothers are improving as well.”

“Well, his dad wants to learn to read as well. Is there any chance of night classes? There will only be six or eight in the group I need taught.”

“Of course. There is no reason why the adults can’t learn. We have four teachers other than myself. We can each take a night. But you better get working on that new school for me.”

“Tomorrow I have to make a visit to the pawn shop in the morning. Then I’ll spend the whole afternoon on your building. Kalo thinks he knows a man to lead the work.

Stone

Chapter 42 – The School

The next morning Stone woke up and remembered to go to the other house to use the boy’s bathroom. If nothing else, this morning rush would encourage him to get a new school built. His breakfast was ready for him when he got back to the kitchen, and he ate it slowly, watching the kitchen staff doling out oatmeal to the morning students.

After he finished, and carried his dishes to the sink, he managed to get a quick kiss from his wife, with her classroom full of students oohing and aahing at the kiss. He then left the house. Kalo had a class this morning, so Stone walked alone into town. The pawnshop was open, and he entered, browsing for a full hour before approaching the clerk.

“I understand you have a good sextant in here,” he asked the man.

“We have several,” the clerk replied. “They range from an older mate’s model up to a captain’s sextant that came in from a retired gentleman just a few months ago. It will not be cheap, but it is of highest quality.”

Stone choked when the man quoted a price as he handed the brass piece carefully to the big man. The captain had told Stone what the shop had given him for the instrument, so Stone had that advantage in bargaining, and when the first quote came in at three times the amount the pawnbroker paid, he answered with a bid just over what the pawn had been.

They dickered for a while, and when Stone’s offer of 50% more than the pawn price was refused, Stone asked to see the other models. The broker brought out five other units, ranging from a slightly beat-up bronze mate’s model to several that were nearly as nice as the captain’s.

“Tell you what,” Stone said. “I will buy all six and I will pay you five gold. I know you paid 18 silver for the captain’s sextant, because he told me so himself. I don’t know what the others are worth, but I’m sure it was less than four gold. Take the offer or I will leave and seek my tools in Lakeport.”

The pawnbroker only hesitated a moment. Five gold was a good week in sales, and he was making it in a day. And he was making a good profit on all the pieces. But he was a greedy man, and countered with “Five gold and 8 silvers.”

Stone turned and walked away. As he put his hand on the door handle, the broker shouted out: “Wait. I can do five gold. Let’s do the paperwork.”

“Five gold and you deliver them to the new Kithren school by the end of the day,” Stone insisted. “With an adult delivery person. I don’t want some kid kicking the box along the street.”

Stone continued down to the docks to check out progress on the ship, which looked exactly like it did the day before, in spite of a dozen men working away at various tasks. The big man decided he would have to limit his visits to one a week, so progress could be more easily noted.

On his walk back to the school he saw two wagons of cuttings from the oak glade come through: one with logs too small for the ship but fine for firewood, and the other piled high with branches and trimmings. The first went into the lane between the school buildings, and the other went to the field where trimmings were being left for the poor folk to get free wood.

At home Cass made him his lunch, another wonderful BLT: this one with all six slices of bacon. Jason rubbed his wrist where the spoon hit him when he tried to filch a slice. As Stone ate the wonderful sandwich, he saw that Jason was getting one with four slices of meat. Cass adored the young boy, and made sure he was well fed. Kalosun came into the kitchen after his class for his sandwich, which had different vegetables on it: a Kithren version. The two men and the boy headed out, and went down to the lot were the oak trimmings were being dumped. The lot was going to be the site for the school. It was town land, and Stone would have to buy it for the school, but the men wanted to see if it would be suitable first.

A tall, slender Kithren man with a ring of white hair around his ears and none on top was pacing up and down the lot when the three got there, just as the men were dumping the last load of branches.

“That is Keenmoon,” Kalo said. “He is one of the better Kithren builders in town. I checked out the last three houses he built and they are all excellent work.”

“Kalosun my friend,” the man said as he approached. “Who is your tall white friend?”

“This is Stone, or the Captain,” Kalo said. “His wife runs the new school, and he is planning to build a new building for it.”

“Bless you sir,” the man said, enthusiastically shaking Stone’s hand. “It is a great thing for the young people in the town. I have no children of my own, but my neighbors and my brothers all have children in the school.”

“Thank you,” Stone said. “Do you think this lot will work for the building we propose? This is what we were thinking of.” Stone pulled out the sketch Rayla had made of the building.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. We can do this. And this. That room: the kitchen? It would be better over here to keep the chimney close to the main heating file for the big room. So many small rooms: I guess they are classrooms?”

“Yes,” Stone said. “And they aren’t that small: 40 foot by 60 foot.”

“Small compared to the great room. And curved, as the sun God prefers. What is the use of the big room? There will have to be a post through the center.”

“It will be for sports periods, especially in the rains, and for assemblies when all the students are gathered together, like on the first day of school, and graduations.”

“I see. Can I take this sketch? I will draw up a proper plan and provide you with a cost estimate.”

“Certainly,” Stone said. “When can your men start work?”

“We could start work today. For the first month we will have to harvest pine timbers from the woods around here. Nothing will happen on this site for a month or so, other than piling up the logs. But you don’t own the land. And are you willing to pay an advance to get started soon?”

“Yes. If we don’t get the land, we will build elsewhere,” Stone said, handing a slip of paper to Keenmoon. “This is a check. If you take it to the jeweler on Lake Street at First, he will issue you 500 gold. Is that enough to get you started? When you need more, just ask.”

The man looked impressed. “I will send men out to seek suitable trees tomorrow. If you can have the land issue settled in a week, then we can start hauling logs in.”

Stone wanted to mimic his attempt at only going once a week to the shipyard with the school. It did work for the shipyard, but the school seemed to need constant attention.

The next night he went to the town council meeting and made a generous offer to the town to purchase the school site, and said offer was accepted immediately, although the deal took another week to finalize. The following night was the first night school, with Rayla starting by spending an hour on the ten students who attended. Eight of these were students that Kalo and Stone had invited, and they were paid sixpence a night: going to school was to be their regular job. The other two were just students who had heard that there was an adult school, and Rayla was too softhearted to turn them away. The lesson only lasted an hour, and then the captain arrived and took his eight out to study the night skies. As promised, he was neat and sober, and was astonished when Stone paid him a silver just to point out the constellations to his students. Five silver a week was only slightly less than he had earned as a captain on the whaler.

Soon after the crew had left, the builder arrived with his updated plan for the school. Three crews of men were already in the pine groves, felling timbers, and another was in the marshes, gathering reeds to be used to thatch the roof. The building was not to be finished until the end of the year, but a huge number of reeds would be required, and they could not be harvested in winter.

Rayla was thrilled with the plan for the school, but as a woman she insisted on making changes. About half of the ones she made were accepted, and the builder explained why the others could not work. She also mapped out the playground areas: there were three, with the youngest students in one, the middle students in another, and the oldest in the third and largest.

She even mapped out where the play equipment would go, thinking back to the schoolyards of her youth, with slides, swings and teeter-totters. Stone chimed in here, sketching out some of the newer equipment from his time, like playsystems and simple merry-go-rounds. He even plotted in a basketball court, and rued that there was not enough room for a baseball diamond.

Rayla decided to use one of the art classes for the senior students to have them sketch out playground ideas that would interest them.

Of course this meant that Stone had to use the next day to find woodworkers and smiths who could build these devices, which turned out to take three days, since each artisan had to spend time to understand what was needed. Even something as simple as swings were an unheard of concept in the town, and needed sketches and explanations. Kithren swings existed, and the art students had suggested these, but these were simply a rope hung from a tree limb, with a short branch tied to the end for the swinger to stand on, holding the rope. The artisans had trouble at first envisioning a swing with two ropes and a board to sit on. In the end, Rayla wanted both types, with the Kithren type only in the older playground.

Soon it was time to go back to see the ship, and after a week Stone could now pick out the large amount of work that had been done on it. The shipwright told him that in a week, he would be able to actually explore on board. Of course when he announced that at supper, Rayla, Jason and Emily insisted on going. Stone decided it would be a family outing, and Sissy would go as well. Sissy had finished the curtains on the family house, and was now working on the schoolhouse. Then she planned on sewing sheets for the family beds, which only had the ones Rayla had bought when equipping the house. She later realized that spares were needed for laundry days, and Sissy was happy to have the work.

The visit to the ship came soon enough, and the shipwright led them through the lower decks, which were dark and closed in, so a builder with a torch accompanied them. On the upper decks the shipwright mapped out the various rooms: a galley for cooking, the captain’s quarters, the mate’s quarters, and even a stall for Doug.

That was when Rayla noted that there were no plans for the quarters for the family. The shipbuilder immediately sketched out a space next to the captain, moving the mate’s quarters and the galley to the aft. Rayla sketched out a large room for Stone and her, and a smaller cabin for the kids, who would sleep in triple-decker bunks, which thrilled them all.

Over the next two months work was underway in many different directions. Timbers piled up in the schoolyard, once Stone received the deed, as well as a large plat reserved for the reeds for the thatching. The ship neared completion, and on his latest visit Stone viewed the sails. The jibs were all wrong: the sailmakers could not conceive of triangular sails, and had insisted on rectangles. They were sent back, with corrected sails to be delivered before the launch date. Finally, the artisans doing the playground equipment started to deliver sample pieces, which were erected in the front of the current school buildings. The result was that students not in class spent most of their time on the slides and swings when not in class.

Finally things started to come together. To Stone’s amazement both the erection of the first timbers for the school was planned on the day the ship was being launched. When Stone told the shipwright of the conflict, the man offered to delay the launch by a week: it would give him time to mount the jibs, which had arrived at the last minute.

Almost all the students attended the first week of the work on the school. Rayla was in no mood to teach when her new baby was starting to be built. And the rest of the teachers and the students also wanted to watch. Rayla decided that seeing how construction worked was a good learning experience: after all, some of the boys in the class might wind up in construction. But by the end of the first week, with 22 timbers now in place, the students were getting bored, and classes were resumed, with a weekly trip to the site to see progress for an hour, and then back to class.

The night school went well. Rayla assigned other teachers to the non-sailors, and they met once a week, with 21 adults now learned to read, write and do numbers. The sailors met five times a week, with the men doing an hour with Rayla on reading and writing, and then going off to the captain, often with the sextants, other time just reading the stars. Rayla had taught them the basics of numbers and money, but the captain was teaching the more complex mathematics of navigation and sailing.

The men learned well. Kalo and Stone had only selected men who seemed smart, and all of them took well to Rayla’s class: surpassing the younger students who had started weeks ahead of them. They had an incentive. There were three mate’s positions promised to the best of the students, with three more master’s positions. The other two men were promised senior crew positions, and would move up if any of their superiors were ill or injured.

On the second class it was clear that one student was ahead of the others: he had no day job, so he spent the day reviewing what he had learned. Within days the others had duplicated his actions: no one wanted to be left behind. After all, they were earning money going to school: they decided that it was smart to concentrate on it.

Two days before the launch of the ship the rest of the crew arrived, and started to learn their ropes, raising and lowering sails and undertaking all the other tasks needed that could be done while the ship was still in dry dock. Luckily these days were calm, and all sails could be raised. Even so, the light wind caused the ship to tilt to one side until the captain ordered the mainsail dropped.

One of the students spent a half-day working with the jib sails, and finally figured them out. They could funnel the wind into the square sails and this allowed the ship to tack at a wider range. His work earned him the position of first mate, and second mate was chosen at the end of the day, based on his ability to get the men working for him. The second day saw the third mate and the masters named. The sailors moved onto the boat the first day.

Finally the shipwright announced that the gates would be opened and the basin flooded over night. Again Rayla cancelled classes, and students were allowed to come to see the ship take float the next day. Most attended, as well as most of the students from the other school, but they had to skip classes.

Stone was up at six a.m. on launch day, and sat in the office as the waters slowly rose. At that time the water was still several feet below the hull, but when Rayla and her charges arrived, the ship was a full foot into the water. It was noon when the shipwright had his men pull away the scaffolding, and the ship dropped and floated on its own. Men rowed out to the vessel, and joined the crew who had already been scouring the ship for leaks. There were many, but one at a time they were repaired as the ship floated higher and higher in the basin.

The shipwright stopped the sailors from manning the bilge pumps: he wanted water in the hull to help the wood swell and tighten the seams. The sailors were less than pleased with the idea: to them water was something that belonged on outside of the ship.

“Is that Jason,” Rayla screeched as she noticed a small figure in one of the boats going out to the ship. She was in the office, while all her teachers and students had been watching from a nearby dune.

“I think so,” Stone said. “He looks like he is doing well.” The boy was scrambling up the rope ladders thrown off the side of the ship, actually climbing faster than the shipbuilders.

“Get him off. That can’t be safe!” his mother yelled.

“I hope it is,” Stone said. “That is going to be our home before too long.”

“Where is he? I can’t see him!” Rayla screeched.

“There,” Stone pointed. “He is climbing the mast ropes.”

Rayla stood and started to tug Stone: a pointless task since she weighed only a fraction of what he did. But the big man knew who was the boss in the relationship and stood up, ducking out the door as she tugged. They went down to the edge of the basin, and saw the shipwright, directing the few men still on shore.

“Any more boats going across,” Stone said. “Our boy is out there and the missus would like a word with him.”

“Certainly,” the man said, ordering four men to go to the very boat Jason had been on. A single man had rowed it back when his mates, and the boy, had climbed aboard.

Rayla squealed a little when Stone lifted her on the boat, and again when Stone got on, with his weight causing the boat to sink to near the gunwales under his weight. The four workers slowly made way to the ladders hanging down. Stone lifted Rayla. Another squeal as she grabbed the ladder.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Stone said, finally stepping onto the ladder, to the relief of the crew, who had seen water slosh over the sides as the boat teetered about as Stone stood and moved about. When he stepped onto the ladder, the waterline dropped a foot but the ropes stretched, causing another squeal from Rayla. But the boat rose and was in no more danger of swamping.

Stone and Rayla mounted the ladder much slower than Jason had, but eventually reached the railing of the ship, where two sailors helped Rayle onto the deck, which was now pitching a bit as it was fully afloat. Stone boarded unassisted.

“Jason! You come down,” Rayla screamed but her voice didn’t seem to carry into the sails, which were flapping in the light breeze. Jason was next to a sailor, who seemed to be showing him the ropes and what each one did to control the sails.

“Stone. Call down your son. Your voice is stronger than mine,” Rayla said.

“But not strong enough, I expect,” the first mate said. He took a whistle from his neck and blew a shrill note. Everyone in the rigging glanced at him, including Jason, who saw his red-faced mother waving and calling out. He realized that he had to go back down, and scrambled down the ladder he had climbed up on. It was faster than he had gone up, putting his foot on every third rung on the way down, terrifying Rayla even more.

“What were you thinking?” she said as she grabbed his shoulder after he landed on the deck. “You could have been hurt up there. I don’t want you up there again.”

“But I like it,” Jason said. “The sailors told me what to do. It is safe. Look at all of them up there. I want to be a sailor too.”

“No!” his mother said. “You are too young.”

“Actually madam,” the first mate said respectfully. “I don’t think the captain had a cabin boy yet. There are usually one or two, and they tend to start at age 10.”

“I am 10, Momma. I’ll be 11 soon. Please!” His mother was not paying attention, glaring at the Mate.

“Not on the first trip,” Stone said, and the boy’s shoulders sagged. “We will talk about it for later trips. They will be making safe coastal trips up to Lakeport for a couple years. Maybe later.”

Jason smiled again. Later was better than never. But now it was Stone who Rayla was attempting to destroy with her heat vision.

Stone

Chapter 43 – The Ship

Rayla insisted on leaving the ship, and taking Jason with her. There were still several hours of daylight left, and Stone would like to have spent more time on the vessel he had spent so much money on, but he knew Rayla was in a mood, and not leaving with her would only make things worse. Jason slid down the ladder to the boat below, and then Stone followed, as Rayla wanted him beneath her as she slowly worked her way down the shaky rope ladder.

“Should be a better way to get on a ship,” she muttered as she descended. “Emily and Sissy probably can’t climb a ladder like this.”

“By the time we have the ship in operation, it will load at the docks,” Stone said softly, not wanting to increase her temper. “A loading ramp that you can walk across. It will be slanted up, but not much.”

As they walked home Rayla and Stone walked beside each other, not holding hands as they often did. Jason ran on ahead, not wanting to be around if his mother verbally went after Stone.

She didn’t: at least not until they were in the house. It after the classes had left, and before the evening students would come in. The sailors were getting their lessons on the ship now, and the other adult class didn’t meet on this day.

“Jason is not sailing on that ship,” Rayla said, still seething.

“We all are,” Stone replied. “The only question is whether or not it is when we make the voyage, or before. You realize he is nearly 11. In four years he will come of age, and be able to do whatever he wants. I think we will spend two more years here, and then sail to the other side of the ocean,”

“Why?” Rayla said. “Do we really need to go over there? I mean, we have a nice life here. I have the school, and you have your transport business. Why not forget about going over there? Does it really matter anymore?”

“Aren’t you interested in finding out how we got here?” Stone replied, thankful that the discussion was proceeding on a normal level, without yelling. “I’d like to find out about those towers. And if we don’t keep to the plans of going, Kalosun will leave. He is enraged that one of the wizards is enslaving his people. He will leave if we give up on the voyage.”

“And Jason might go with him,” Rayla noted.

“Perhaps. I think that if Kalo went without us he might wind up enslaved himself. And if Jason is with him …”

“Okay, I agree. We will go in two years. But Jason needs to be in school until then,” the woman said emphatically.

“Is he learning anything in school?” Stone asked, and Rayla had to agree that he was not. “I won’t let him sail on the first trade run. But the next one will leave after he turns 11. That will be harder to keep him off.”

“No,” Rayla said. “He can go on the third run, or maybe the fourth. They are safe, aren’t they?”

“Of course,” Stone said. “Let us make it the fourth. He will be working towards age 12 by then. As a trader the ship will usually sail within sight of land, and if something were to cause it to sink, they could all get to shore on the boats. But that is unlikely to happen, especially after the first trip. He can go on the fourth trip out, and will be safely back in your arms in two weeks. You can have him stay when the fifth trip goes out. He may not want to go to sea again. But if he does, it will only be for alternate trips.”

“What about Kalo?” Rayla asked. “We can’t stop him from sailing, can we.”

“Well, he is a free man,” Stone noted. “But he is also my friend and I think that carries some weight. We can ask him only to go on the trips Jason goes on.”

“I trust Kalo,” Rayla said. “I would feet better if he is with Jason … out there.”

Jason was okay with the plan, even though his mother was not entirely sold on the idea. The ship would load up and sail for the first time in a week, and would take over two weeks to return, including the time spent unloading and reloading at LakePort. Stone told the captain, and the first mate (who Stone was beginning to realize could wind up as captain when the ship sailed across the ocean) that he was fine if the first trip wound up taking three weeks. He wanted the ship to get a good breaking in, and for the sailors to become comfortable with it: particularly in learning how to use the jib sails effectively. Stone had a layman’s knowledge that they were important, but didn’t know how to make them useful. All he knew was in the last 100 or 200 years of sailing ships on earth, all had jibs.

The day the ship sailed had Jason and Stone at the docks. Rayla was no longer so excited about it, so school was not cancelled, although about 20 boys skipped school to see it leave. There were almost as many boys from the white school who skipped, and they laughed at the odd triangular sails, and the sheer idiocy of a ship sailing with an all Kithren crew (save the captain, who was well-known as a drunk and a coward). This resulted in several fights, but Stone did not interfere, other than keeping Jason from joining in. The pair stood on the dock and watched as the last wagons of coal were loaded, and then saw the dockworkers loosen the hawsers holding the ship to the dock: it drifted away on the tide as sails were raised to catch the wind.

They watched the ship slowly sail to the east until it was barely out of sight. “Come on boy,” Stone finally said. “You better head back to school and take your medicine.”

“You think she will be mad?”

“That you skipped school to watch the ship? I think that it a good guess she will be upset.”

Jason sagged. “Don’t worry boy,” Stone reassured him. “I’ll probably get just as much blame for letting you.” Jason looked at the big man, and his admiration grew another notch. Not only was his man the biggest in the valley, and the strongest, but here he was willing to take some of the blame from the one person alive that he feared: his wife.

It was lunch when they got to the schools, and Rayla was waiting for him. It took nearly five minutes before Stone got a word in. Jason just hid behind his father’s legs.

“Of course I knew he was there,” Stone said, watching Rayla just get madder and madder. “I wanted to know that he wasn’t on the ship.” Rayla sagged as the anger fled from her mind at the realization that Jason might have tried to go on board and sail the maiden voyage.

“Oh. I didn’t think about that,” she confessed. “Perhaps it was a good idea you took him with you. You wouldn’t have left me, would you Jase?”

“No momma. I promised. Not until after the third trip.”

“Fourth! Well you have to go to class with the little ones this afternoon for skipping the morning. You can help Ms Kern in the numbers class.”

“Yes momma,” the relieved boy said. “Are we going to the new school tomorrow?”

“Yes, son. I want to see how it is progressing. I expect you to help keep the kids in order. I don’t want everyone running all over the place and getting in the way of the workers. Your dad is paying them to be builders, not babysitters.”

With the ship at sea, the school became the main focus of Stone’s attentions. The woodsmen were no longer working in the oak groves, but had moved to the pine groves where they were gathering branches from the timbers being cut for the school. Pines do not grow large side branches out from the main trunk like oaks do, but there was still a considerable amount of firewood being piled up at the lot, and much of it was being taken away daily. Some boys pulled a small wagon or two home each night. The free wood would mean their family would eat in the winter rather than paying for wood. Boys without wagons carried bundles of wood in their arms. Stone didn’t take any of the pine to the piles at the two houses: he knew that the dried oak would be much better at generating heat over the winter and he now had an ample supply to keep the two houses through a cold winter. Split oak was also stored at the school.

The next morning the students marched the several block to the new school. The main roundhouse was up and thatchers were working on the roof. The current construction was on the circle of classrooms that was being built around the roundhouse. These were being built as lean-tos against the main circle, with wattle and daub walls. It was possible to make the lathing for the walls from sticks woven together: most of the residential round houses in town were built like that. But Stone had wanted the sticks put into the firewood pile, so pine logs were being split into lathes about two inches wide and a quarter inch thick. These were woven between the uprights, and the builder suggested that less daub would be needed, and the walls would be warmer.

Each classroom had two or three large windows. The smaller residential round houses usually had shutters that could be closed off in winter. But Rayla had begged for windows, so Stone had ordered glass in from Three Rivers/Sarn. There were still shutters, so that the winter storms wouldn’t smash the windows, but the school caretaker would open these each morning before classes. Stone also was wise enough to have netting placed a foot or so away from the windows facing a playground, to minimize the number of windows broken by misthrown balls and other game equipment.

“When will it be ready?” Rayla asked he husband after he returned from chatting with the head builder.

“Best case, early in December,” Stone replied. “Worst case, late January. I would aim for Solstice holiday.”

“That would be ideal,” Rayla said. “We could use the week off to move things.”

“And I’ll finally be able to take a piss in my own bathroom,” Stone said, hugging his wife to let her know he was not truly upset with the temporary arrangements.

“We will need to work on furnishings,” Rayla said. “A blackboard for every room and a teacher’s desk. We have a lot of benches for students now, but I’d like to start moving towards individual student desks and we need more slates. I’d like each student to have their own, instead of sharing between the morning and afternoon classes.”

“We need to think about lighting,” Stone mentioned. “If it is stormy out, the shutters will have to be up and that will require light in the rooms. Not to mention during the short days of winter when it will be quite dark in early morning and late afternoon.”

“Oil lamps,” Rayla decided. “Three or four for every classroom, and I don’t know how many for the main hall.”

“I’ll get one of the metal workers building them: no two or three. We will need them all by the opening. And you might need two caretakers instead of one if someone has to go around each morning and fill each lamp with whale oil and light them.”

Stone noticed a white man standing on the corner of the lot, looking at the construction. “I wish I knew who that fellow is. He always comes by and stares. He doesn’t come onto the lot, so I really can’t chase him away.”

“I know who he is, Rayla said after glancing at the man. “He is the principal of the other school. He is the one who said Jason and Emily couldn’t attend his school because they were Kithren. I suspect he is just snooping around to see the competition: although we really don’t compete with him as all our students are Kithren and he made it clear he didn’t want them at his school.”

Stone

Chapter 44 – Back to Sea

The first voyage of the ship went well, although it took 22 days instead of two weeks. Stone was not terribly upset that it was late. He had told the captain to take three weeks if needed. The extra time would allow the crew to learn how to effectively use the jib sails. The extra day was also not a worry as the Blue Point lighthouse had sent a runner to Stone to say that the ship had been sighted, and was expected on the following day.

The ship docked on the low tide, in the early evening, and both Rayla and Stone were present. Rayla had a small table at the land end of the dock, and set up a pay station. The deal Stone had made with the sailors was that pays would be made to their wives or steady girlfriends, and they would only get bonus money. Stone stood at the gangway, and passed out a silver as a bonus to each sailor as they left the ship: enough money for two or three nights of getting drunk. With their pays safely with their mate, they didn’t need to worry about gambling away their earnings, much to the dismay of the card sharks who found the men only willing to gamble pennies and forthings, rather than silvers.

Once the women had gathered up their men’s earnings, they hurried up to hug their mates as they got off the ship. Rayla watched, and found it interesting where the sailors went. Most of the young ones practically dragged their women home: they had been three weeks without female companionship. The older men were split into two camps: those who considered getting drunk at the bar most important, and those with kids at home they wanted to greet first.

There were only five single men on ship who had not designated anyone to get their pay. One was the captain, a bachelor who considered himself a teetotaler now, after his years as an alcoholic. He took his pay and went to his sister’s house: his new land base, planning to give her much of his pay, and the five silver’s in his bonus.

Two men gathered up their pays, and headed to the bars to drink, gamble, and perhaps hire a woman for the night. But the other two went straight past Rayla and joined up with two shy looking women, hugging each and bringing them up to the pay table. They told Rayla that in the future these women could collect their pays, and the elated women led their men off to a bed, in one house or another. Rayla closed her pay books

The ship was closed off for the night: unloading with the stevedores would start the next day, and after that it would move to the shipyard to have some small leaks looked after before being loaded with the goods going to Lakeport. The load was not a big one: there was no prior experience with ship-based trading between Lakeport and Westport. The wagons took two weeks for the trip, and the freight cost was lower by sea, especially for bulk goods. Stone was sending all the coal by ship now, and Keenstone, the first mate, had said that wood was one item much needed in the eastern town: it was located on a delta and was a good distance from woods. Stone decided that he would have to get the Kithren woodsmen to work in the forests. The oak grove was reserved for the shipbuilder, but elm, maple, spruce, and walnut were all available and would sell well in the other port.

Stone and Rayla headed home, but Stone left soon after leaving Rayla and securing her pay bags. He went first to the Captain’s room. The man’s sister apologized that she could offer nothing stronger than choc: she had made the house an alcohol free zone when her brother had come to her begging for help in drying up before starting teaching the mates. Stone spent two hours there, going over every aspect of the voyage. The captain raved about the jib sails, but it was clear that he didn’t completely understand them. He detailed the cargo that they returned with. One item that caught Stone’s attention was the five barrels of sugarwine. The captain explained that the beverage was the cheapest of liquors, dark in color and somewhat bitter, but sought out by those who couldn’t afford anything else.

As Stone walked to his next stop, he thought about sugarwine, and even dropped into a bar and ordered a glass. As he thought, it was rum, and a little nasty. After one sip, he asked the bartender to put three parts of water with it. That made it palatable, and an idea started forming in his head.

His next stop was the first mate, Keenstone’s. He found the man sitting on a sofa with five children crawling all over their daddy. Stone told him to stay when he went to rise, and allowed the kids to continue to hold the man they had been missing for three weeks. Keenstone explained his view of the voyage, and it was clear that the mate had a better understanding of the ship. Stone wanted to immediately promote him to captain, but the man refused, saying that he was still learning from the old captain, and wanted more experience with him before taking off on his own.

Stone did hand him another two silvers bonus, added to the three he had received on disembarking, to make his bonus the same as the captain. The second mate had received two silver, and Keenstone suggested that he had performed well, and deserved another. Stone handed him another silver and told the man to hand it to his mate when he next saw him. Keenstone handed his two silvers to his wife, and slipped the third into his pocket.

“Bless you master,” the pretty little black woman exclaimed. “This will go a long way in getting winter coats for the children. They all need new ones, and this, plus the pay Keen earned, means they will all get new ones instead of hand me downs. Children, please come and thank the master for all he is doing for us.” One by one the children came and hugged Stone, and thanked him.

“Please don’t call me Master,” Stone said: he was uncomfortable hearing that from black people. “They used to call me captain up north, but that really doesn’t work when we are dealing with ships. Perhaps we can use another military term: Colonel.”

“We could call you Boss,” Keen offered, but Stone shook his head. That term also had slavery connotations. Colonel would have to do.

Keen explained the use of the jib, and suggested it would cut a day off from each leg of the voyages, now that the men understood it. That would mean a round trip, including unloading, would only take two weeks in the future.

Stone went home, hoping to have an early evening with Rayla, but found Jason on pins-and-needles hoping to hear everything about the voyage. Stone told him what he could, but really didn’t know the details the boy needed to hear. When Rayla finally told the boy he had to go to bed, Stone stopped the inevitable whining by suggesting the boy talk to Keenstone later.

“But after school, mister,” his mother said, practically dragging the boy upstairs.

Stone was at the dock soon after sunup, and found that the stevedores were all assembling for unlading. Keen and the second mate appeared soon after, with the latter man coming directly to Stone and thanking him for the added bonus. Apparently his ploy of making it seem that the money came from Keenstone had failed. “You earned it,” Stone said. “Keenstone said you did a commendable job, and had been instrumental in figuring out the jib sails.”

“Aye, Colonel,” the man said. Apparently Keen had told the mate about his new honorific. “That is a wonderful invention. It makes tacking so much easier. We can actually sail slightly into the wind. Marvelous.”

The Captain appeared shortly thereafter, and the four went on board to direct the stevedores. Keen did most of the work, again demonstrating his leadership, and the Captain tended to stand and watch. Stone watched for a few minutes, and discovered that the crew was extremely inefficient at unloading anything but barrels.

“Barrels are all they deal with from the whalers,” Keen explained. “Bags and boxes are a bit of a problem for them.”

Stone called four of the stevedores over and explained what he needed. The men darted off the dock, to the dismay of their foreman. Stone went over to the irate man and said his workers were not shirking, but had gone on an errand for him. The foreman relented, at about the time the four returned, each pushing a wheelbarrow.

Stone spent a few minutes with the four, and demonstrated how one wheelbarrow could carry three or four bags, and several boxes with about the same effort as carrying one or two on the shoulder.

“Kin youse put a barrel on one o’ them things,” the foreman asked. “Barrels works fine fer rolling down a ramp, but them things look like they would go up a ramp easier.”

“Probably,” Stone guessed. “You’d need to get one for testing. Those come from the shipyard. But I’m not going to return them. I will buy them from the shipyard. Keen said they had trouble loading and unloading at Lakeport.”

The foreman actually learned what he needed to know without buying or borrowing a wheelbarrow. There were barrels in the cargo on the ship, and the device worked much more efficiently in moving those. The foreman decided to order some from the shipyard.

By the end of the day the foreman told Stone that the ship would go to the drydock tomorrow, and would be loaded there as the shipwrights patched up the leaky spots. It would be reloaded by second tide on that day, and it would be ready to sail. Keenstone sent word out to his men to get them sober and ready to sail. The time in the shipyard would not delay sailing.

Stone returned late the next day. A few sailors looked slightly under the weather. Stone went to the galley with Keen and the captain and the head cook. “There is something I remember from my old world,” the big man said. “I have bought two of the five barrels of sugarwine that were on board, and had them moved up here, to the galley.” He tapped one barrel and pulled out a glass of sugarwine.”

“That is pretty nasty stuff,” the captain said. “I drank more than a little of it when I was in my darkest days.”

“Mix in three parts of water to one of liquor,” Stone told the chef handing him the glass. “Here, try this.”

“Not half bad,” the man said, handing the glass to Keen. The captain, of course, refused to sample it.

“The idea is to give the crew a daily ration of this, which is called grog,” Not a full glass like this, but a small glass, perhaps with only an ounce of sugarwine for each man.”

“I don’t know,” the captain said. “Liquor onboard sounds like a dangerous idea. It wouldn’t do to have a drunk crew.”

“And that is why the barrels are here in the galley. Only the cook will have a key,” Stone said. “The idea is that the daily grog is a treat: if a man is being laggard or misbehaving, then he is shorted. And since the captain will not drink it, I suggest that a mate can decide which man get’s ‘the captain’s portion’. It may encourage the men to work harder, and one or two ounces of sugarwine a day is not enough to make anyone drunk.”

“That could work,” Keen said thoughtfully. “We can give it a try on this trip, and decide how it goes.”

“Now,” Stone said. “Where is my son? Jason was not at dinner tonight. I assume he is hiding in the ship somewhere. The man who finds him will get the captain’s portion today.”

Once it was explained that grog was being offered, and a double portion would go to the man who found the boy, the entire crew scoured the ship, and found the boy crawled up into a tiny niche at the front of the vessel. Jason was returned to the deck by one of the sailors, and Stone took his shoulder and tugged the boy to the ramp, which was then removed. The two stood on the dock as hawsers were released and the ship drifted out with the outgoing tide. Sails were being raised and the ship started heading east again as the big white man and the small black boy headed home.

“You are hurting my shoulder,” Jason complained.

“Your mother will probably hurt more than that. Twelve years old is not too old to be spanked. What was the idea of stowing away?” Stone asked.

“I just wanted to sail, and the fourth trip seems so far away,” the boy said.

“Well, you won’t be sailing on the fourth trip,” Stone said. “I think as punishment you will wait until after the sixth trip. Unless your mother makes it a longer wait.”

The boy looked up in shock. “Five more trips. That is so unfair,” he pouted.

“What’s more I am going to have Kalosun make you promise not to try another stunt like this again: a Kithren promise to the sun goddess. If you break that you will prove to yourself and everyone in town that you cannot be trusted.”

The walk back to the house was hard, but Jason found things even harder when he got home and his mother found out where he had been hiding. She did not spank him, as Stone had suggested, but he was sent to bed with no supper. Missa sneaked upstairs with a crust of stale bread for him later, but it was far less than he needed.

And the next day, at noon, Kalosun made him promise to the goddess at noon, with all the other children in his classes gathered around to hear his shame. Some of the other boys thought the idea of stowing away was clever, but knew that Jason could never break his word, and would not sail until the seventh trip, nearly two months away.

Stone

Chapter 45 – School Opening

With the ship at sea again, Stone and Rayla concentrated on getting the new school completed. It seemed to drag on, once the main construction was completed. The heating system had to be finished, as well as the installation of all the desks and oil lamps. Rayla ordered some of the books that were being printed up in Greenstone, as well as searching all the shops in Westport for books for the room she had designated as a library. Books about whaling were extremely popular, and were constantly out on loan from the time they were bought, even if they were placed in the small one-shelf library of the schoolhouse.

Winter Solstice came, and the students got nearly two weeks of vacation from classes. But Stone and family took no time off, working long days at the new school. Two Kithren men, former whalers too old to row, were hired as caretakers, and got the boilers going to supply heat to the classrooms, as well as maintaining all the whale oil lamps that lit the rooms. The heat to the main assembly area was kept cooler than the rest of the school, since it would usually be used as a phys. ed. room, other than lunch and pre-school meals. Body heat from the students would make up for the lower boiler heat.

Finally, on the Saturday before classes were due to resume, everything was deemed ready, even to Rayla’s demanding eyes. It was announced that Kalosun would hold a blessing service on Sunday, and all parents were invited to attend the new building their children would attend. The kitchen was to use the blessing as a way of testing their equipment, now that there were five cooks: Cass was retired from the school and would only go in as a replacement. Her main job was Stone’s family. A Kithren supper would be served after the blessing.

On the blessing day, after Kalo had said his prayers, Stone and Rayla noticed several white families had popped in to view the new facilities, often with looks of amazement on their faces at the sleek and modern building. Rayla noticed that one of these people was the principal of the white school, and Stone was approaching him. She hurried to his side.

“So what do you think of the new school,” Stone asked jovially.

“It is very nice,” the man said. “Too nice for Kithrens. I will move my school in here. Can I have the keys?”

Stone stared at the man in amazement: “No you cannot have keys, and you are certainly not moving your school here. I paid a great deal of money to build this school, and I am not turning it over to you.”

“Of course you are,” the principal said. “It is far too good for Kithrens. They can use the old school.”

“You mean the school that would not accept my children because of their color?” an irate Rayla said. “Now it is suddenly good enough for them?”

“Yes, of course,” the man said bluntly, not understanding why these people were not acquiescing with his request: they were white, after all.

“Stone, I think this man needs to leave,” Rayla said.

“I agree,” Stone said, and grabbed the man’s collar with one hand and lifted until his legs were two feet off the ground, and carried the man out of the building, tossing him on the walkway in. “And don’t come around here again. If you do, you are trespassing on private property and may not enjoy the consequences I dish out.” Stone then turned and left the confused man sitting on the walkway.

The next morning was heavenly to Stone. The house was quiet for the first time in months, and he was able to relieve himself without going to the other building. Cass had a huge breakfast ready, with bread still hot out of the oven, now that she no longer had to supervise the feeding of 140 students.

Once breakfast was over, the family of four headed to the school. As they walked (it was only four blocks away) she saw a crowd of white people walking towards it as well. Stone’s family arrived while the others were a half block away, and Rayla darted into the school to make sure that breakfast was proceeding well. Stone stood outside and waited for the others, seeing the principal and four mounted men leading over 100 young people. There were three other adults near the rear of the group: teachers, he guessed.

“There he is,” the principal shouted. “Arrest that man and make him give me the keys.” He gestured to the mounted men, who moved out into a line, looking confused. “Can you explain this, Captain?” one of them asked.

“I hope so,” Stone said, recognizing all four of the men as soldiers he had sent to Westport a few years back to prevent the old Duke from collecting his onerous taxes. Three of the four had fought with him against Kona. “This man came to the school at our ceremonies last night and caused a disturbance, so I booted him out, none too gently. He seems to think that this is his school.”

“Of course it is,” the principal said. “It is too nice for Kithrens. The best of everything goes to the whites. I told them they can have the old school building. We will take over this one.”

“This one, which I had built, with no financial assistance from the town or any white people. It was built on a Kithren design, and will be used to teach Kithren students.”

“Any students,” Rayla corrected from behind Stone. She had just left the school hall, were students were eating breakfast. “No one, white or Kithren, will ever be excluded by us. If any of you children want, there is plenty of oatmeal for breakfast left, and as you can tell by the aromas, it is pretty tasty.”

Many of the students had been tittering at their principal making a fool of himself, and started to move towards the entrance. The principal looked up in alarm, and shouted: “Stop! Any student who enters that building will be expelled from school.”

The students paused, but then ten or so continued in, and this emboldened others to try. Soon about 40 of the 100 students filed past Rayla, who went with them to see that they were fed.

The principal was livid. He was hopping from one leg to another. “Now he is stealing my students. Arrest him.”

“You don’t own the students,” the soldier said. “They went in under their own free will. And I think it is pretty clear that Stone owns this school, and can do what he wants. Besides, I fought with him once, and know that if we tried to arrest him, even if the entire force was with us, it would wind up with all eight of us dead and in pieces in the street.”

“What is the use of soldiers if they won’t fight? I will make sure that the town council hears about this.”

“Tell them that if they want to arrest the Captain, they better sharpen their swords, because all of us will resign rather than go after him.”

The little man hummed and hawed a bit, and then started to herd his much smaller group of students back to their school. One of the teachers smirked silently, but he saw that and fired the man on the spot. Another objected, and the principal said: “You are fired too. I don’t need four teachers for 60 students. Find another job.”

The two teachers stood in shock, then looked back at Stone. The giant gestured for them to come to him.

“Rayla may need more teachers,” he said. “She runs the school, and does the hiring, and she might be interested in interviewing you.”

Breakfast was over, and the Kithren students went into the circular hall to find their classrooms. The white students were gathered around Rayla, and she was asking them questions to ascertain their knowledge level. She was not impressed. The other school was quite lax.

When Stone entered with the two white teachers, Rayla immediately hired them. She found that they knew their material, but the principal had forced them to ‘dumb down’ the work so all students got good marks, whether they knew the material or not.

Rayla took about 12 of the oldest students, all boys, to join a classroom, while Stone and the new teachers tended the other students.

The class they went to was one of the smaller ones, mainly with students four or five years younger than the whites. When Rayla told them this is the class they would be in, one boy objected.

“But they are little kids. We can’t go to school with them,”

“Listen to their lesson,” Rayla said. “Do you know how to do that?” The teacher was explaining money values and adding the various types of coin.

“No. I don’t. We don’t cover that in school.”

“Well, you do here. If you kids can learn all this, we will move you up to a higher level.”

“But the teacher is black,” the boy persisted. “Everyone knows that Kithrens are not smart enough to learn.”

“Well she is smart enough to teach money to younger students than you. Perhaps that makes her smarter than your old teachers. Now take a seat and pay attention. I will see that the caretakers bring in five more desks. Until then some of you will have to stand.”

Rayla went back to the hall, and broke off another group of students, and then some more, taking them to them to various classes. There were only five girls in the group, and they went into the second lowest class. Apparently the other school seldom accepted females, and then only taught them rudimentary reading and numbers. The group they joined was taking a cooking class that morning, making bread in the kitchens, and the girls were thrilled to be learning from doing, rather than just listening to lectures.

Finally the two teachers were assigned to classrooms as aides, with the understanding that they would get classes of their own once they got the feel for how the school worked.

The next day another five students joined the new school, and by the end of the week it was up to 30, leaving only 30 students at the old school.

Not all of the students fit in though. Some of the white students complained that the work was harder, and the marks lower. Some wanted to shirk and drift through like they had before. After several weeks Rayla laid down the law: if they wanted to stay in the new school they would have to work.

After two months, Rayla found about half of the shirkers had pulled up their socks and were working hard. Some were still getting low marks, but they were working hard, and learning. They were allowed to stay.

But another 10 had refused to do more than the minimum: less in fact. Rayla called them all into the hall on Friday and told them they were expelled, and that they should go to the old school on the next Monday.

That weekend several parents came to Rayla to complain, and beg or threaten to have their children in the new school, which was getting a reputation as a better school. Some parents wondered if a diploma from the old school would be of much value.

Rayla accepted two students back, when their parents promised to motivate their sons in the future. The other parents, including those who hadn’t even cared enough to come and find out why their boys were expelled, were of the opinion that the better schooling was a right, not a privilege and their sons were not accepted back.

As the school was shaking down, Rayla noticed that Jason was not taking classes, and had pretty much become the geography teacher, while assisting in other subjects. He had a knack for teaching, Rayla noticed, and was especially capable in one-on-one instruction, getting students to understand difficult problems in many subjects.

As the third month came to an end, Rayla also noted that Kithren and white children were melding together, and the racial prejudice of their parents was no longer apparent in them. The most racist parents sent their children to the old school, but the lowering of tensions was also affecting the other parents, who started interacting with the other race in a fair and hospitable manner.

And at the same time Jason was slowly counting the voyages of the trade ship, and realized that his time to join was fast approaching.

Stone

Chapter 46 – Jason at Sea I

Jason looked back as the dock slowly receded in the distance. His cheeks were still red from the scene on the dock a few minutes prior. Rayla would not let go of her boy until the last minute, and had hugged the boy to her chest. Jason was just a bit younger than 12, so at his height, his face was just about level with his mother’s ample chest. When he finally broke free to run up the gangplank before it was pulled aside, he heard one or two comments about his ‘ear muffs’. The sailors spoke softly, because they all knew Rayla was Stone’s wife, and they didn’t want to annoy the giant. But every sailor, and some of the officers, stared at the pretty woman, who still looked like a teenager since she hadn’t aged since arriving on this planet.

Jason went to the captain’s quarters to join the other cabin boy, who had been on the last few voyages, although he was a year younger than Jason. Kolan was nearly as tall as Jason, but much thinner, and immediately pulled the seniority card on the new boy.

“Our main job is to serve the captain and sometimes the mates,” Kolan said. “We serve the meals and sometimes run errands, although most times they use the whistle to alert the men. I likes to sleep in mornings, so you serve breakfast and lunch: I’ll do dinner. We eat after the captain is fed and the dishes are sent to the galley. We sleep in here’s.” He opened what Jason considered a closet, and saw two cloth things spread across. “I’ll sleep in the top hammock so’s you don’t wake me getting up in the morning.” With that the younger boy clambered up a ladder and spread out on the top cloth. Jason had never seen such an affair before, but sat on it and found it fairly comfortable.

“Don’t you lie down,” the bossy boy said. “You are new and can serve the evening shift today. Head to the galley and see what they need you to do, then take the cap’n’s supper to him.” Jason just stood in amazement, and less than a minute later his partner was snoring lightly.

Jason had no intention of lying down. He was on the ship: at sea. He wanted to learn anything and everything he could about sea life. He wandered about, staring at the men on the masts and the men climbing about them, looking like little monkeys up there. He wondered about for 15 minutes, and finally his sense of smell led him to the galley, where four men were hard at work. One was clearly in charge: barking orders at the others.

“You the new cabin boy?” the man snapped at Jason. “Whar’s the other brat? He’s s’pposed to be showing you the ropes.”

“Kolan’s sleeping, sir,” Jason said,

“Hah. ‘bout the only thing he’s good fer. And don’t call me sir. Sir is fer the officers. You kin call me cookie like the others do. Since the kid finds sleep more important than his job, you’ll have ter figgur it out fer yerself. See that cupboard on the wall next to yer? There’s china dishes in there for the cap’n and the mates. The tin ones is fer the rest of us. Get out two plates an’ set ‘em on that tray. You need a big plate, a saucer, an’ a cup. Cap’n drinks tea. The mate’ll take a grog, so git one of them small cups out for him as well.” The cook poured the tea with one hand as the other stirred the big bowl. Then he lifted a lid of the grill and put two slices of fried ham on the plates. “Cap’n gets the big one.” Finally he scooped out two large ladles of the food from the pot, again, putting a bigger amount on one plate.

“Yer got yer sea legs yet? Take that platter up to the cap’n’s cabin aft, and doan spill none. Taint no more ham if yer drops it. Cap’n will have words with you if yer does.”

Jason did have his sea legs, and picked up the tray and started out the door, nearly colliding with a sailor poking his head in to see when dinner would be served. He walked towards the front of the ship to where the captain’s quarters were. The rolling motion of the ship seemed to want to make him spill, but he quickly got the hang of anticipating the movements and compensating. When he got to the cabin, a passing sailor noted that his hands were full, and opened the door for him.

“Thank you,” Jason said as he entered the cabin, closing the door with his foot.

What a polite young fellow, the sailor thought as he went on his way.

The captain rolled up several charts to allow Jason to deposit the servings on the table. With both place-settings laid out the way his mother had taught him, he stood back, glancing around to see who the second setting was for.

“Sit, boy,” the Captain said. “Normally I dine with the first mate, but he is eating with the second mate in their room. I wanted a chance to chat with you. It will only be this one time, but I have some information to pass on to you.”

“Thank you, captain,” Jason said watching the captain carefully and only taking small bites of the rich food.

“I have some rather express orders from you mother,” the captain said. “She said you are to be kept safe, away from the sails and climbing the masts. I think she wanted you to be a personal servant, staying with me at all times.”

Jason looked shocked. This was not why he had come to sea.

“But later I spoke with your father,” the only white man on the ship said. “He intends to take this ship across the ocean in a year or two, and he expects you to learn as much about sailing her as you can in that time. I explained that this would mean going aloft with the men as needed, and learning your ropes.”

Jason realized he had stopped breathing, and let out a gasp of air as he learned that his father had countermanded the orders his mother had made.

“I owe your father a great deal,” the captain said. “He gave me a second chance. So I want you to be careful, and take no risks. Leave the dangerous jobs to the other men: they are expendable; you are not. I do not want the job of telling your father that you were lost at sea. And especially not your mother.”

“So, based on your father’s wishes, you will not serve as a cabin boy. Your new title will be ship’s monkey: a position that will allow you to roam the ship at will. You can go into the masts, the hull, anywhere. Your goal will be to find anything that looks amiss, and report back to me, or the mate on duty.”

Jason was elated as he ate the rich dinner he had served. This was the ideal position for him: he wanted nothing more than to get into the masts and spars and find out how the ship actually worked.

When Jason cleaned up the serving dishes as the captain sat back and lit a cigar. The old man said: “This is you last day as a cabin boy. After you get your dishes cleaned, send the other boy to me. He should have spent more time showing you your job. Probably sleeping. I will deal with him.”

Jason headed back to the galley, where the cook was cleaning up. “The first mate tells me you ate with the captain,” he said somewhat sarcastically. “I hope the food met with your approval.”

“It did,” Jason said. “It was wonderful. So tasty. I think the ship is lucky to have such a fine cook.”

The compliment pleased the man, and he decided that Jason was not such a bad fellow after all. The boy eagerly washed the dishes from the captain’s table, and put them away without grumbling the way the other cabin boy did.

The ship’s company was 34. There were three shifts of eight able seamen, a master and a mate (or the captain). The men not on shifts were the cabin boy, the ship’s monkey, Kalosun, who was both chaplain and doctor, and the carpenter.

The day shift ran from 8 to 4. The evening shift was 4 till midnight, and the third shift was midnight to 8. It was the easiest shift as no men went into the sails when it was dark, so until dawn started to light the skies, not much was done.

There were different shifts as well. Storm shifts meant that men worked two shifts and slept for the third, with the captain and the first mate in charge. Finally, ‘all hands on deck’ was for emergency situations, such as hurricanes, when men all worked as long as needed to keep the ship afloat.

Of the 10 men on each shift the mate (or captain) stayed in the helm cabin behind the captain’s cabin, where the charts were. The master would be on the main deck, and relayed the orders of the mate, usually by a combination of pipes on a shrill two-note whistle. One to three men were at the wheel near the aft of the ship, depending on the height of the seas. Higher seas meant it took more men to turn (or steady) the great wheel. Two men were in the crow’s-nests (except at night) and five to seven worked the sails, during the light hours. At night the watch came down from their perch and took positions at the front of the ship, one to either side, where they listened in the inky black for sounds that warned of rocks and breakers.

As monkey, Jason worked as needed, and soon was on the masts and spars, learning what the men did, and helping out where he could. His infectious smile and eternal good nature soon endured himself to the men, particularly when he learned their jobs, and was quick to lend a hand rather than sitting back and watching them work, as most monkeys do.

Some of the men were harder to befriend then others. The mizzen watch on the afternoon shift was one. Jason got a fairly cold reception when his first crawled into the nest. The sailor said nothing, ignoring Jason as he continually rotated his head to search the seas for danger. “That must be hard on your neck,” Jason finally said as the man swiveled back and forth.

“Tad”, the sailor said, the first word he had spoken in nearly an hour.

“Let me try this,” the boy said, standing behind the sailor and started to massage his neck the way Rayla had taught him. The sailor was about to order him to stop, when he realized that the boy’s hands actually felt good. And Jason was rewarded when the old man started telling him exciting stories of his days on the whaler’s. From that time on Jason made sure to spend at least a half hour in the crow’s-nest with the old man who told stories and pointed out whale’s spouts in the distance. On a whaler, such a spotting was the start of action. On a trader it was just an interesting view.

Jason tried his hand at the helm, and learned that his young 12-year-old body was far too weak to hold the wheel steady. If the normal helmsman was not helping, the wheel could have yanked the boy off his feet. But two days later, he was back again this time with a short length of rope. He asked to try the helm again, and this time, before taking the wheel, he hooked one loop of the rope around a post on the wheel, and the other end to a belaying pin on the side of the deck. When the regular helmsman let go, the wheel tried to spin, and the rope held it firm. Jason and the helmsman both stood back and let the ship sail on Jason’s autopilot. He then tied another rope, and strung it to another belaying pin, constraining the wheel from spinning in another direction.

The helmsman stood relaxing his muscular arms for nearly a half hour until the captain came back. The wind was picking up, and he wondered if a second helmsman was needed. He saw the two ropes, holding the wheel on a straight course, and was confused.

“What the devil is that?” he barked.

“It’s an invention Jason came up with,” the helmsman said. “The rope makes it a bit easier to control the wheel. I just have to make course corrections, and the boy resets the pins to the new heading. Saves the arms.”

“Taint natural,” the captain shouted. “Take it off and steer the ship the way God intended you to.”

Keenstone, the first mate, had been in the helm cabin, but came out at the captain’s roar. He saw the roped in action before Jason and the helmsman dismantled them, and decided the idea was a good one. However he would not countermand the captain, so he said nothing. But when Jason walked away with the ropes, Keen took them from the boy, and whispered “smart thinking.”

Stone

Chapter 47 – Jason at Sea II

After the ship docked at Westport after a successful voyage Stone and Rayla were at the dock to pay the soldiers, with Stone again offering a bonus of a silver to each of the sailors, who again were paid to their wives and girlfriends. Rayla pocketed Jason’s salary, planning to save it for when he was older. She hoped that his sea days were over, and as they walked home he agreed that he would skip the next voyage, as he had promised, but made clear that he intended to sail on the following trip in two weeks.

“What was all that giggling about earmuffs by the sailors?” Rayla said.

Jason just turned red and Stone had to explain. “It comes from the way you hugged Jason when he got off the ship,” the big man said. “You pulled him into you, and your … uhm … assets were in his face, and around his ears.”

Rayla thought that through, and suddenly it was her face that went red when she pieced it together. “Oh my,” she apologized. “That must be quite embarrassing to you, Jason. I will try not to do it again.”

They reached the houses and went in for lunch. Jason went up to Cass and gave the broad woman a hug. “I told the cook on the ship that his food was good, but it was nowhere as good as yours. Eating here for the next few days will be heaven.”

“Next few days?” Rayla said with alarm in her voice. “Where will you be after that?”

“I dunno,” the boy said. “I’m not going to hang around here all the time. I think I will go out to the lighthouse at Blue Point to see the ship off. I don’t have plans beyond that.”

“Oh,” Rayla said sadly. “We do have a birthday party for you on Sunday. I know you won’t turn 12 until Tuesday, but we decided to have a party for you two days early so more of your friends could come.”

The party was a success, with the boy getting many gifts. With the building of the ship and the school, most of the Kithrens in town were working, and could afford a silver or so for a modest gift. But it was late that night that Jason got his best gift. Almost all the men from the ship arrived and they had chipped together to get him a sailor’s outfit, with bell bottom jeans and the red and white striped shirt that they all wore on board. Jason was thrilled at the gifts, and put them away for his next voyage.

The ship sailed on Monday’s early tide, and Jason was there to wave the men off, and then headed off at a jog to the lighthouse. He arrived there and introduced himself to the elderly couple that manned the station. He soon could see the ship approaching and begged for permission to watch the ship sail away to the east. Soon he was in the tower, watching mournfully as his friends sailed east.

Meanwhile, Rayla sat at the table in the house, eating lunch with Stone and the girls. “Where’s Jason?” the woman asked. “I was hoping to have the full family together for a meal.”

“Did he leave on the ship?” Stone said, starting to get angry. “He swore he would not.”

Rayla looked dazed for a moment, and then said: “Arthur was flying this morning and saw Jason heading to Blue Point after the ship sailed. He didn’t break his vow. Hopefully he would be back for supper.

He was not; and did not return to the house that evening. He missed breakfast, and after missing lunch Rayla decided something had to be done. She had taken the week off from school to spend time with her boy, and he was nowhere to by found. She had Beauty saddled up; and headed out towards the lighthouse. She found Jason, standing on a ladder, putting another layer of whitewash on the tower.

“What are you doing?” Rayla called up to Jason.

“Just helping out,” the boy called back. “They gave me dinner here last night, so I need to pay them back. I slept in the lighthouse. It is nearly as good as the ship, although it doesn’t move the same. The smell is the same though.”

“You missed a good dinner last night,” Rayla said. “Cass worked hard making some of your favorites. Were you planning on coming home tonight?”

“I dunno. I love the sea air out here.”

“Get down and come on. You are not too big to ride in front of me on Beauty.”

She paid the lighthouse keeper’s wife a silver for looking after her son, and soon they were headed back to town, with Jason riding behind, which was more comfortable for the boy, due to Rayla’s bosom.

The ride was largely silent for the first half, with Rayla thinking and Jason constantly looking out to the sea until it could no longer be seen. This idea of having Jason only sailing on alternate trips was not working out, the woman realized. If he would spend the two weeks at the lighthouse, she would barely see him. He had vowed not to sail, but had not decided where to stay on shore.

“I wonder if we can change our deal,” Rayla finally and grudgingly said. “I was hoping to see more of you when you weren’t sailing, but that doesn’t seem like it will happen. What if you were able to sail every trip, but promised to spend the two or three days between trips at home?”

“Every trip?” Jason hugged his mother tightly, and her soul was warmed. “Yes … if father agrees. It was to him I made the vow.”

“He will agree, I promise you that,” she replied, and they rode the rest of the way making light conversation.

Jason spent the rest of the week at the house, thrilling Rayla. The following week, when she was back at school, he found himself staying at the lighthouse, where he finished painting the tower, and also a picket fence. The elderly couple who manned the station loved the boy. There was a younger orphan boy of eight as well. He ran messages to town when a ship was seen arriving, often getting a tip for doing so. Thus he called out ‘ship’ from the tower one day. Jason set down his paintbrush and ran up to the tower, looking at the vessel through the big telescope.

“It is the Sun Goddess,” Jason said as he recognized his ship. He tore off down the tower to quickly clean up his painting gear. Then he ran into town and stopped at home for only a few minutes before heading down to the dock. Stone followed at a more sedate pace with Rayla, so they could pay off the sailors when the boat came in. Jason danced about the dock for nearly an hour until the tide turned and the ship came in. You would think he hadn’t sailed in months, and not just two weeks. He ran ahead of his father, and shook each man’s hand as they disembarked, getting smiles from most of them instead of glowers from delaying their visit with the boss, and his bonus coins.

“Can I stay on board tonight?” the boy begged his mother after she had paid the last of the sailor’s wives.

“Only if you come home for supper and come back for breakfast tomorrow. You eat all your meals at the house, and you can stay on board the rest of the time.” He kissed his mother and practically flew up the ramp where unloading was starting to take place.

The next morning, after breakfast, Stone made Jason pause before running back to the ship. Kalosun was there, and performed a ceremony to annul Jason’s former vow. At the same time Stone made a presentation: “I acquired this knife several years back, and was waiting until you grew big enough to merit it. I think that time has come.”

The knife was more than a foot long, and was in a sheath that went around the boy’s waist; strapping onto his leg just above the knee. “It is humming,” Jason said.

“I can’t hear it,” his father said. “But I have stored it next to Pate for many years at night, so it is possible that some of her magic leaked over to it. She is a sword that sings, so I guess a knife that hums only makes sense. I hope it serves you as well as Pate has served me over the years.”

They sailed two days later, and Jason discovered that the old cabin boy was gone, and there was a new one, several years younger than him. The captain told him that as ship’s monkey he was in charge of training the boy, who Jason later learned was the son of the first mate, brought on in spite of only being nine. He immediately showed he was not as lazy as his predecessor.

Thus Jason acted as a cabin boy for the first few days. Kookla took some time to get his sea legs, so it was Jason who served the meals for those days. On the second day Kookla tried serving tea, and spilled, breaking the captain’s bone china cup. He managed to serve the replacement tea safely, but the first mate had to drink his tea from a tin cup until Lakeport, where a new cup was purchased.

When not serving, the boys roamed the ship, and Kookla was quickly earning the affection of the crew. He was afraid to climb the rigging with Jason: spending his time on deck watching his mentor climbing the ropes and helping the crew. Later, when the boys explored the holds, Kookla followed Jason everywhere, including into some small spots that Jason was too big for.

It was not until three trips later that Kookla attempted to go into the rigging, and then only the lowest levels, barely 10 feet off the deck. But when he came down again, terrified silly, all the crew on deck and in the lower rigging cheered him, causing the boy’s face to turn red with pride. Jason clasped him on the back, and made like he had been in the upper sails. Thus the boy started to climb, and several trips later he was climbing all but the top reaches of the rigging.

It was eight trips in when Jason came on deck early and discovered that there was a gorgeous sunrise in the east. “That is beautiful,” Jason said. “Mom and Emily would love to see that.”

“Mebee not,” the nearby master said. “Thet’s a hurricane sunrise. Means thet thar’ll be a big storm afore sunset. Yer don’t want ter see a hurricane if’n it’s a bad un.”

Chapter 48 – The storm

It was nearing noon and The Sun Goddess was in peril. The hurricane was to the south east and closing fast. Waves were 20 to 30 feet high and crashing over the ship. All but the topsails were down, and even with those small sails up, the ship was speeding through the seas. Worst of all, the captain was nowhere to be found.

Jason burst into the cabin, soaking wet. “Where is the captain,” the first mate yelled.

“Not on board,” the monkey replied. There is a boat missing, and two ables. Another boat in disarray, as though they tried to launch it and failed. The ables are Kollor and Keeper.”

“Both rookies,” Keenstone cursed. “And that damned captain is gone too? He called for storm shifts earlier, but only he can call all hands.”

“But you are the captain now, Captain Keenstone,” Jason replied. Aye, aye, captain, the other men called out. “And we have a problem in the hold, captain. The water there was up to nearly my waist when I was looking for the old captain.”

Keenstone only paused a minute before donning the mantle of responsibility he was forced into.

“Get some men and beat the pumps. Take Kookla with you. He will be safe there,” the new captain ordered. He turned to a seaman and ordered him to go to the mates’ cabin and bring out the ropes Jason had invented to help steer the ship. Jason didn’t wait around and was soon on the stairs down to the lowest deck, calling four men standing on deck with him and pulling the little cabin boy with him.

As they ran to the pumps, a torrent of water crashed over them. Looking up, Jason saw that the aft hatch was open. The captain hadn’t ordered ‘batten the hatches’ as he should have early in the storm. Jason hoped the new captain would do so soon. The four men took stations on the pumps, which were operated on a step basis. Jason banged a drum, and each man trod on the step in front, which pushed down on their weight, moving the next step into position, and pumping out gallons of water from the bilge. Another torrent or water fell through the hatch, and Jason realized they were losing ground, as every wave pushed three times as much water in as they were pumping out. He turned and grabbed Kookla and set him before the drum, standing on a small box.

“Beat the drums like I was,” Jason ordered and once the boy had the beat, he dashed off, getting soaked again under the hatch. He scrambled up to the deck, and looking around, saw four seamen huddled in a corner.

“You men,” the boy called. “Batten down that hatch and then come with me.” The men wrested the hatch lid mostly into position, and Jason yelled out instructions until it dropped into position. He then ushered the men down the steps.

It was darker now, with the hatch closed, and it took a moment for the men’s eyes to adjust. “Hey, they’s already men on th’ pumps,” one sailor said.

“Yes, but you lot will spell them off,” Jason ordered. Normally one set of men would work the pumps for an entire shift or longer. Jason wanted to have 15-minute turns on the pumps so the men could work faster. At least water was not pouring in on them now. From the aft. He heard a wave break over the ship and a torrent of water came in the fore hatch. Kookla had taken five minutes rest until Jason put him back on the drum and darted towards the bow. As monkey he knew the ship in the dark, although wading through waist-high water slowed him down.

He found another four men in the bow, and got them to put the fore hatch down, and again made the men come to the pumps. The second group was relieved, as well as Kookla, who was now sobbing, but continuing to beat. Jason took over again. The water was over his waist now. Looking around he saw a square of light. The midships hatch was still open. Luckily it only allowed half as much water as the other two had, but it still slowed the progress of the pumpers.

Jason was wondering if he should go out again when a flash of lightning went off, followed by a smashing sound.

“We bin hit,” one of the resting sailors guessed. “Main mast, I reckon.”

Jason looked at the sobbing boy. He was in no shape to drum, so Jason got one of the resting sailors to take the drum. He then sped up to the deck, and just as he emerged another bolt of lightning struck in the air, illuminating the scene in front of him. The main mast had indeed fallen and was leaning against the mizzen at about a 20 degree angle. It was twisting back and forth on the tangled sails and lines, knocking into the mizzen. In time it would take the rear mast out as well. Worst of all, the fallen mast had landed on the main hatch lid, smashing it.

Jason ignored that calamity. The mast was the current problem. Several sailors had tried to climb it and were tossed to the deck. Jason pulled out his knife, which immediately hummed the words ‘Hurry, urgent’. It took a second for the boy to realize that what he was seeing must the battle mode his father had described about Pate. Everything was in wireframe. He could see red ropes and he jumped on the mast. Green ropes appeared on occasion, and Jason learned that he had to grab those to balance against an upcoming wave tossing that would otherwise throw him to the deck like the others. In a few minutes he was up to the first red rope and sliced it quickly. Pate could slice through steel and bone, but the knife cut through thick ropes like they were threads.

When the rope was cut, the mast dropped a half foot, with the boy holding onto green ropes to balance against the fall, and another wave. Then he scrambled up to the next red rope and cut it, causing another drop, this one nearly a foot.

When he cut through the 15th rope the mast landed on the deck. He jumped off and went back to the hatch. The ship’s carpenter was there, inspecting the ruined mast. Jason looked at the hatch, and the smashed lid. He needed something to plug that opening: water was still coursing in when waves hit. He turned and went to the mainsail spar. The sail was lying loose on the deck, and Jason’s knife soon cut a huge square out of the sail. Gathering it up he found a body underneath. An able was either on the mast when it fell or was hit by the falling spars. Looking around Jason spotted six stunned men huddle against the gunwale. “You two,” the boy shouted. “Take this man down to sick bay. You other four come help me.”

The men apparently were just waiting for someone to take charge and didn’t balk at it being a 12-year-old. The five of them wrested the piece of sail over to the hatch and laid it across. “Have you nails? We need about 16,” Jason asked the carpenter, who handed him some. Jason started tacking the sail to the hatch, four nails per side. He used the butt of his knife, which seemed to make a good hammer, putting each nail in with two or three blows. The carpenter saw what was happening and started taking the side opposite Jason using his hammer. They met at the end and Jason handed his spare nails to the carpenter.

He stood and noticed the four seamen staring at him. “Come you lot. We have work to do.”

The four new men were placed on the pumps. One man, the afternoon master, had taken charge of the drum and had been rotating the men in turns during the hour Jason was away. He handed the drumstick to Jason and went to rest. “The little guy got too tuckered out, so I took over,” the master said. After a half hour Kookla woke, and seeing Jason at the drum, crawled over and hugged the monkey’s back. Jason was happy. The little guy was warm on his back, a little steam engine warming him.

Jason took over at the drum and was astonished to see that the water was barely at his crotch level. They were making progress.

The men pumped for hours. After several hours, some of the men were actually falling asleep as they marched, sometimes stumbling when they missed a step. Jason took that crew off and told them they should sleep for a couple hours. He did the same with the next crew as well and made the other two crews work for 15 minutes, and then leave the pumps idle for 15, so the remaining men were still only pumping 15 minutes per hour. The water was below his knees now, and the storm outside seemed less intense. Jason woke the sleeping sailors, needing to use a bucket of water on three, and sent the others to sleep. Most were snoring in seconds.

Jason continued to drum as the big pumps lowered the level on their legs. When one group was to rest for the next 15-minutes Jason had a thought. He reached around and felt Kookla’s forehead. It was burning hot. No wonder the boy was warming Jason so much. He grabbed the boy’s legs and piggybacked him through the hold and up to the deck and sick bay. Kalosun was treating the man the mast fell on, but Jason laid the boy on a second cot.

“It is the cabin boy,” Jason said. “The new captain’s son. He has a tremendous fever.”

“I need another five minutes here to set this man’s leg, if he is to ever walk again. Give the boy some water. From the blue jug: the red one contains a weak grog. Try to get a half cup into him.”

Jason put a cup up to the boy’s mouth and was rewarded with eyes fluttering open. “Sip a bit of this, matey,” Jason said and the boy complied. He would do anything for his hero. After half the cup was gone, Kookla laid back and fell asleep again.

Kalosun named several different herbs and liquids from his self, and Jason mixed them together in a poultice. He had finished grinding the ingredients together and spreading the poultice onto the lad’s chest when Kalo came over, having finished setting the seaman’s many broken bones.

“Good job, boy,” Kalo said. That will help him sleep well. Now I will make a potion that will break the fever. How are you, Jason? You look like hell.”

“Tired, Kalo. Just tired.” Just then he heard the whistle call out ‘all hands on deck’. “I should answer that.”

“Tell the captain I’m a bit tied up at the moment with these two,” Kalo said as Jason tiredly slumped out the door.

------

Captain Keenstone looked out over the shambles of his ship as the storm abated somewhat. One mast down and sails gone or tattered on the others, and just over a dozen seamen on the vessel, mostly lolling about on the main deck. Had he lost so many? He had his mate signal a master on deck to blow the all hands signal.

The carpenter and four men stood up near the ruined mast. Then, astonishingly men started pouring out of the hold. Ten, then 15 and finally 16. What had they been doing down there?

The monkey appeared from sick bay at the foredeck. Keenstone had last seen him, during flashes of lightening, bringing the crippled main mast to the deck. With the men with him on the aft deck, Keenstone thought that only one or two men were lost, not counting the three who had abandoned ship. And what was that white thing over the main hatch?

“Carpenter! Report!” the captain ordered.

“Serious damage, sir,” the man said. “Lightening hit the main mast and travelled down it to the deck. The bolts there lit up and burned through the wood. Luckily no one was on the mast at the time. Two to four days to Gerry rig a new main mast.”

“Any other injuries?” the captain called out.

“Kalo has two in sick bay,” Jason called out. “A seaman hit by the falling mast, or more likely a spar. He had several broken limbs and will be off the list for a while. And Kookla, the cabin boy, took a fever doing heroic service in pounding out the pumps. He is also with Kalo and will be off for a few days.”

“Kookla,” the captain said softly, and he had to use all of his willpower not the rush off and see how his son was.

“Master Kertle, you were in the hold? Why so many down there?” He addressed the master who had been working the pumps.

“My doing,” Jason said as he walked from the prow to the stern of the ship. “Four men were not enough to handle the pumps. We were losing ground, especially with the hatches open. I guess we would have gone down in another hour at the rate water was coming in. I kept adding men until we had four teams, each working 15-minutes hard, and then resting for 45. Your boy beat the drums while I went out and battened the hatches.”

The hatches, Keenstone thought. The old captain didn’t give the command to batten, and he himself hadn’t thought to remedy the situation. It was the ship’s monkey who took charge and saved the ship from floundering.

The storm had passed and was to the north and west of them, but the seas remained high. One of the masters was pressing the men back towards the safety of the top deck when one last wave hit the side of the ship, topping it and catching Master Kull with its full might. The man was knocked over and started to slide towards the opposite side of the ship and overboard.

Jason was 15 feet from the master and reacted almost immediately. He dove into the horizontal wall of water and caught hold of the older man’s shirt. As they were both swept up and over the gunwale, Jason managed to twist the master’s collar over a handy belaying pin.

Seconds later Jason found himself hanging onto the master’s belt. On the outside of the ship. He heard the terrible sound of cloth ripping and wondered if this would be how he died. But seconds later dozens of hands reached over the gunwale, and the master was hauled on board. Jason never felt better than when several hands grabbed hold of him, and he was also brought back. He slumped to the deck and lay there trying to regain his strength while vomiting up some of the seawater that had entered his lungs.

Kull seemed to recover first and sat up. He leaned over Jason and said: “I am your man for life.”

A bit of a cliffhanger here, but I will try to get the next chapter out before the end of the week: Daw

Stone

Chapter 49- Jason as Sea 3

Jason felt the sun on his face as he woke. Looking around, he discovered that he was in Kalosun’s sick bay, laying on a cot beside Kookla and the seaman who was injured when the mast fell. Jason looked at the window, which showed light shining through.

“What time is it?” he asked Kalo, as the older man moved about in the small room mumbling a prayer.

“It is nearly noon, Jason,” Kalo said. “The new captain was in a few hours back, checking on his son. He said he wants to talk to you as soon as you are up.”

“How is Kookla? How long have I been asleep?”

“You were brought in here at about six last night, as the storm was ending. You had been awake for over 24 hours, so it was normal for your body to shut down on you like that. Kookla is better, but I haven’t been able to get him to drink or eat, which is needed to break the fever.”

"Let me try,” Jason said, and he got off the cot and poured a glass of water and took it to the smaller boy.

“Come on, Kookla,” he said softly. “You need to drink this.”

“’ason,” the boy croaked, barely opened his eyes, but he started to sip the water and took a half cup before he laid back and closed his eyes.

“That tin has some pigeon soup in it,” Kalo said, pointing. “Heat it up a bit on the whale oil stove and see if he will take it. Make a big batch … I want you to eat some too. You must be hungry.

Starved, Jason thought to himself as he put the soup into a tin dish and started to heat it. He ate half of it himself, finding the hot soup filling, along with a hard ship’s biscuit. Then the soup was cool enough that he felt he could spoon it into the boy’s mouth. Kookla didn’t open his eyes, but seemed reassured by Jason’s voice.

“I want you to eat this,” he said. “I made it specially for you and it is delicious.” The boy opened one eye, and Jason put a spoon of soup into his mouth. He soon closed his eye but continued to lap up the soup. He must have been just as hungry as Jason. They hadn’t eaten at all while in the hold.

The boy finished the soup and Jason said: “I have to go see the captain. I will come back to check on you when I can.”

Jason hurried out on deck. The sun was not out, but it was much brighter than it had been for days. The storm was still visible to the south west and the seas were still high, but nowhere near where they had been.

Jason tapped on the door to the captain’s cabin and entered. Both the captain and the mates had their sextants out and were sighting. Sunrise, sunset and noon were the only time when sightings could be reliably given.

“Just a moment, Jason,” Keenstone said. “We need to get these readings to find out where we are.”

A third sextant lay on the table: the shiny brass one the old captain had used. Jason had learned how to do transits back in Westport when the captain had given classes. Jason was in charge of the sextants, and had watched whenever the classes were on, practicing himself before he put them away after the classes.

The other two had finished their readings, and were doing the math on sheets of paper, when Jason finished his readings. He took a third piece of paper and started doing his calculations. He finished before the others and put a pin in the map in the position he had calculated.

The captain finished next and put a pin in far to the east of Jason’s. “I think your readings were off, son,” Keenstone said. A few more minutes passed and then the mate read out his calculations. He too was far off the others and Jason put a pin in at the coordinates.

“I think you missed something here,” he told the mate. “This spot is on land … fairly close to Golden, a little mining town.”

Jason looked at the mate’s math and realized that he had transit figures far off his. He picked up the mate’s sextant and saw it was an older model and had two different scales on it. The mate had read the wrong one. The man did his transits again and got numbers much closer than before. He started to redo the math, but Jason interrupted noting that it was now past noon, and he should work with the readings the Captain had gotten.

Jason then turned to the Captain’s figures and scanned the math. “Right here,” he pointed out. “You forgot to carry the one. If it had happened near the end it wouldn’t have been much of a problem but occurring so early the error just got worse and worse.”

Keenstone saw the error, and started redoing his calculations, finishing before the mate. He moved his pin to nearly the same spot at Jason’s. The mate finally finished and moved his pin to the same general area.

“So that must be where we are,” the captain said. “We are far to the west of port, and a long way out to sea.” He opened the door and called out a new heading to the helmsmen. “We won’t make much progress on two masts, but at least we are now heading for home.”

“You wanted to see me?” Jason asked.

“I did, but that is not important now. How is my son?”

“He still has the fever, but he drank some water and ate some soup. Kalo said that is what he needs to break the fever. Hopefully he will be better by tonight.”

“Good. Can you check on the carpenter and find out how he is coming on gerry-rigging the main mast? We do need more sail.”

Jason headed for the center of the ship and found the carpenter sawing on the main mast. He had made a half lap joint on the bottom of the mast, and his helpers had removed all the spars so that it was a single pole.

“How is it going?” Jason asked.

“This part is good, but it is going to be a bear to dig all that out.” He pointed to the bottom part of the mast, which was broken below the level of the dock. Jason had an idea.

“Wait here,” he said, darting off to the hold.

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” the carpenter replied as the boy ran away.

A minute later Jason was in the part of the hold where the mast continued down to the keel. After climbing onto some chests, he pulled out his knife and started to cut into the wood. It wasn’t as easy as cutting rope, but he soon had cut a lap joint to match the top half of the mast. The knife seemed to guide him to make a perfect fit.

When the cut was completed Jason was able to wiggle the small top part and push it up. Soon it popped through and the astonished face of the carpenter looked down at him. To the older man’s amazement, there was a matching lap joint awaiting the mast.

It took several hours for the entire crew to rig up hoists to the other masts to bring the main mast upright again and get it into position. During this time Jason reported back to the captain, and then made a short visit to Kookla, who he fed again. The boy’s temperature was dropping. Back on deck the mast was now in position. It was loose and wobbly, and the carpenter started making dowels. Jason started boring holes through the laps for the dowels. He had the five holes drilled before the first dowel was ready. Once the carpenter pounded the first dowel in the mast was more stable. Jason darted off and came back carrying four belaying pins. “These should be quicker to shape than the new wood,” he said, and the carpenter agreed.

The carpenter took one pin and shaped it with his spoke shave while Jason started on one with his knife. He had all three done before the carpenter finished his one. The four additional dowels were pounded in, and then seamen surrounded the joint with ropes to further secure the mast.

Jason left the crew to reattach the spars and get the sails up. He went back to the sick bay and found Kookla was awake and hungry. Kalo came in a minute later bearing food. “I want both of you to eat,” the healer said as he set the plates down. Jason eagerly dug into the stew while Kalo fed the still weak Kookla, who also gobbled it down.

After they ate Jason stayed and chatted with Kalo and Kookla for about an hour when he heard the whistle for ‘all hands on deck.’

“I should go now,” Jason said.

“I’ll come too,” Kookla suggested.

“You will not,” Kalo ordered. “You are still sick. Tomorrow you can leave, not before.”

Jason slipped out the door as the pair argued.

He stood with the rest of the men at the main deck while Captain Keenstone and the second mate stood above on the forecastle. “Men,” Keenstone shouted, so the men would quiet down. “I want to announce the end of the storm shifts. Normal shifts start immediately.” Cheers. “Secondly, there are some changes to make. I declare myself captain. Are there any challenges to this? I admit to making some errors in the hurricane, including not battening the hatches as soon as I should have.” Silence. “I also want to name Second Mate Kalso as first mate. Are there any challenges?” Silence. “And finally I want to name Ship’s Monkey Jason as second mate. He took great leadership during the storm, battening the hatches, manning the pumps in a new and more effective manner, freeing the fallen main mast, and getting a wounded man to the sick bay. As well, it was an earlier invention of his that helped our helmsmen steer the ship during the storm. It meant two men did the work that usually takes three. Or four in a storm of that magnitude.” Massive cheering.

“I challenge that,” said the day master Kilmer. “He is just a boy. A man is needed for the mate position. I challenge personal combat for the position.”

“You can’t be serious,” the captain said. “He is 12 and you are 42 and weigh three times what he does.”

“I am,” the master said. “Is it not my right to challenge?”

“It is. But do you know how to navigate?”

“I learned from the old captain back at the school. I am probably pretty rusty with it, but I will learn.”

“Both Kalso and I are learning too. From Jason. If not for his help today, we really wouldn’t know where we are right now. But as you say, you have the right to combat. But I have the right to ask if there is a champion who will take his place.”

“I will fight for Jason,” shouted Master Kertle, the man Jason had stopped from going overboard.

“Or I will,” Master Kull, who had manned the pumps for the boy. Immediately almost every other voice on the deck spoke up, wanting to help.

“No,” said Jason. “If I am to take the position, then I fight for myself. Clear a space for the battle.”

Keenstone groaned. “So be it. But Master Kilmer. I don’t want to see the boy hurt. You hold him for the 10-count and the victory is yours. There is no need to hit the boy. Draw blood and you will lose on forfeit.”

“I find those terms highly unfair, but I accept them,” the master said.

The men had been backing up to make a circle on the deck, with the two combatants in the middle. The captain ordered a whistle to start the fight, and the Master started stalking Jason, who realized that his only hope for success would be to keep out of the big, muscular man’s hands.

Stone

Chapter 50 – the Challenge

Jason stared at the muscular chest of the 42-year-old man facing him on the deck. Both were naked to the waist, but the boy had the chest of a child, while the master had the muscles of a man who had spent over 35 years hauling lines and hoisting sales. This might not be a good thing, Jason thought. A knife fight would have been fairer, with Jason able to go into battle mode, but the rules of the contest were bare fists.

The master made the first move, arms outstretched as he ran at the boy, nearly leaping at him. He hoped to pin the boy and end this early. But when he dove, the boy was not there. Jason had ducked and was inside the man’s arms before he could seize him. The boy struck out with all his might, hitting the mate on a shoulder.

Shit, Jason thought. That hurt my hand more than it hurt him. Something else was in order. Jason had experience fighting bigger boys when he was younger, defending Emily, but never a man before in a real fight. On the trips around the Green Valley, Kalosun had taught the boy Kithren fighting, and Jason had learned many tips. The master was not fighting in the Kithren style. Most ships before the Sun Goddess had a partially white crew, and it was considered wrong to fight Kithren style in front of whites, so sailors tended to fight only with white techniques.

The master leapt again, and Jason dodged again, not bothering to hurt his fist on the sweaty muscles facing him. This continued for another 15 minutes, with the master jumping and the boy dodging. Finally, Jason felt the foremast at his back, and smiled. The master took the smile as a taunt, and furiously ran at the boy, who dodged again. But this time there was a foot-thick mast behind him, and the master crashed into it, smashing his face into the wood. The man was groggy now, but Jason still didn’t see any hope of an offensive move. Worse, when the master’s eyes finally cleared, it was certain that he was no longer planning to pin Jason. There was a murderous gleam in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Stand still, you little bugger,” the master screamed as he ran on Jason again. This time the boy dropped to his back in a last-ditch effort. Either this worked, or he would be dead. The master had sped up but was not expecting his foe to drop on his own. As he flew over Jason, the boy grabbed the man’s shoulders, and the master managed to finally grab the boy’s arms, making a squeak of glee.

But Jason planted his feet onto the thighs of the man and kicked out with all his power. The master flew into the air until he was upside down. His momentum, and the force from Jason caused him to flip in mid-air and he came down on his back with a thud. A split-second later his head crashed into the oak deck with a sickening sound. Of course, the master’s hands had left Jason as he flipped.

Jason rolled over and looked to see the unconscious man on the deck and then crawled over and put his hand on the mate’s shoulder. After a second someone in the crowd shouted “ten” and soon every man on the deck was counting down to zero, at which point they erupted in amazed glee that the boy had beaten the man.

The captain, standing on the forecastle with the other officers, announced Jason the winner, and the crew carried him on their shoulders onto the steps to the forecastle, which would now be Jason’s territory as a mate. The captain hugged the boy and proclaimed him second mate, by conquest.

Jason only spent a few minutes on the forecastle before coming down to the deck to thank all the men, one at a time, for supporting him in the contest. The master had been carried away to Kalosun at sick bay without regaining consciousness. Finally, the boy regained enough calm to head to his little closet where he crawled into his hammock and was deeply asleep. He had missed a lot of sleep over the past few days, and at midnight he would be in command of the ship.

Kookla woke Jason just before noon. The boy sent the smaller boy to wake Kull, the master on Jason’s shift, and then find Kertle, the master of the evening shift, who was off duty, but probably not sleeping. He asked for both the men to come up to the aft map room. On the way there Jason saw Kilmer, the man he had fought the night before. “I’m giving a lesson on navigation to the other masters. I thought you might like to join them.”

“You thought wrong. I want nothing to do with you, pipsqueak. I have work to do.”

Jason ignored the mean-spirited slight and headed up to the map room, arriving just as the other masters arrived.

“It’s a quarter hour to noon,” Jason said. “I want to teach you how to make sightings with the sextants and then calculate our position from them. Of course, we won’t be accurate at this time. You need to sight at noon sharp to do that. But the sextants are free now and won’t be at noon when the captain and first mate come to take their readings.”

For the next few minutes Jason showed the men how to take sightings, a refresher from when Captain Snow was running his little evening school. As the men were finishing up Kalso went to the sun dial behind the map room and rotated the sundial so that it was aligned north. “Three minutes to noon,” he announced.

He and the captain picked up their sextants, and Jason took his. When Kalso announced “noon” the three of them took their sightings. Then all five men started doing their calculations, with Jason also helping the masters, who seemed to have trouble with the math. Both the captain and Jason finished early, and plotted their pins to a near identical point, about an inch from where they had been yesterday. Kalso finished up soon after and plotted to the identical spot. “Good job,” Jason commended, and the first mate was proud that he hadn’t located the ship 100 miles onto dry ground again. The two masters were not so lucky, with one a half inch from the three correct pins, and the other on land again.

“It isn’t easy,” Jason said. “You would be a bit off by taking your sightings early. Let’s go through the math and see where you went wrong.” It turned out that Kertle had made an error in his math early, and thus was far off. Kull made a mistake later in the calculations, and as a result was only a bit off.

It had taken nearly an hour to run the master’s through the exercise, including having the masters make a second reading and calculating again. The masters were dismissed from the map room, and only the captain and his two mates remained.

“It looks like we made seven leagues since yesterday,” Captain Keenmoon said. “That is about a seventh of the distance back to Westport. We seem to have a week’s sailing after that storm.”

“It might be less,” Jason noted. “We only had two masts up for much of the day yesterday, and then we only had partial sails on the yardarms. The Gerry-rig seems to be holding, and we should be able to put on more sail today. As well, we will be able to tack into the wind better as the storm moves on. If we do that it might only be five or six days to port.”

“Good point,” Keenstone said. “You know Jason, I called you to the wheelhouse yesterday to ask who you thought would make a good second mate. You seem to have a good feel for the men. When you fixed our navigation problems, it was clear to me that you were the right man, even if you are still a boy.”

“Well, thank you,” the boy said. “But I want to check on the main mast before you throw more sails on it. See how it is making out.”

The ship’s carpenter was doing the same thing. “It’s holding up well,” the older man said. “Captain was clever in not putting much sail on it last night as the storm was dying out. It should be able to take full sails in today’s lighter winds. I would worry if we hit another hurricane, but we should be in port before one hits. Personally, I think that last one will be the final storm of the season. How far is port?”

“Five to seven days,” Jason said.

“Well then we should see whalers coming out as we go in,” the carpenter opined. “They’ve been idle for a couple months now and will be wanting to start making money again: crews and shipowners both.”

Jason’s next stop was sick bay. The seaman still in residence was awake now and griping mightily at having nearly his whole body in a cast. Kalosun just rolled his eyes at the complaints and then shared his dinner with Jason.

“You won’t be getting out of here until we reach port, and I don’t know when that will be,” Kalo said to the complainer.

“We are five to seven more days at sea,” Jason said. “The carpenter said there will be at least a month of work in port to get the ship repaired, maybe more.” Kalo told the sailor that even if the layover was two months, he would be missing a trip or two before he got the casts off and was able to do light duty.

After eating with Kalo, Jason headed back to his hammock for more sleep. He was still way behind in needed sleep. He woke up after dark and realized that would be his new norm. At about 15 minutes to midnight he reported to the second mate and his master, with Master Kull joining him. The four men walked the entire vessel to make sure that everything was ‘ship shape’ before changing shift. All was well, and the first mate and Kertle left to head for their respective bunks.

Jason went on deck, and Kull whistled the free men to the deck. Only the steersman and the two men on watch at the front of the ship did not appear. There were only four seamen, since the ship was short staffed due to the three who had left the ship before the hurricane, and the man in sick bay. All the vacancies had been filled with men from third shift.

“This is all pretty new to me,” Jason said. “What do you all normally do on this shift?”

“Mostly we just find a comfy spot and nap until the watch change in four hours,” one of the seamen said. “It’s too dark to do much else.”

“I dunno,” Jason said. “There is a full moon and a clear sky. We should do something. Can any of you read?”

None could, including Master Kull so Jason spent the next hour giving a lesson on the alphabet, using a damp mop to write letters on the deck. After that there was an hour studying the skies, with Jason pointing out the constellations that were visible. For the last two hours of the watch, Jason quizzed the men, pointing out stars and asking the men to name the constellation and what it meant. Most constellations pointed to others, or certain directions. The Small Cap had the north star at the brim, and the two stars at the end of the Large Cap pointed out the location of the Small Cap.

After the watch three of the men relieved the steersman and the men watching the front of the ship. The other three men got the same lessons, with one seaman and Kull getting a refresher of what they had learned before.

This time when Jason finished the star lesson, one of the seamen spoke: “I appreciates the teaching, mate, but what I really wants to learn is how you managed to throw Kilmer in that fight. Seems that would be more useful to know.”

So Jason spent the next hour teaching the fundamentals of Kithren fighting. The men were upset that there was no actual fighting, since Kithren fighting involved mental exercises that the men must master first.

Dawn broke, and the men on watch went up into the nests on the mizzen mast and the main mast when it was light enough to see from those lofty perches. A few minutes before 8, the Captain appeared on deck, with his scowling master Kilmer following.

The shift-change walk-through started normally until we reached midship. That was when Kilmer pointed to the port and said: “Is that land over there?”

The other three looked immediately. They had been hoping to see land for days since the storm. But the knife strapped to Jason’s leg hummed out a warning and he looked back in time to see Kilmer flick a stack of rope onto the deck.

“No, I think it is just a low bank of clouds,” the captain said, and Kull agreed.

“Look at that mess,” Kilmer said, pointing to the mess of rope he had just caused. He pointed to a seaman standing near the gunwale: “You there, how could you let something like this go unnoticed? You’ll be lashed for that.”

“I am the mate on this shift, Master Kilmer, and I will decide who deserves a lashing”.

“It is a lashing offense, Jason,” the captain said. “At least five strokes.”

Jason sagged. The captain’s comment meant that he could not merely ignore the offense. The captain would be expecting a lashing at noon when all hands would be called to the deck. He didn’t want to make things worse between Kilmer and himself by accusing the master of causing the mess, especially when no one else had seen it. But he didn’t want to unfairly whip an innocent sailor. In five hours he would have to decide what to do.

Stone

Chapter 51 – The flogging

By noon Jason had a plan. He hoped that it wouldn’t embarrass the captain, and he knew it wouldn’t subject an innocent seaman to the lash. He arrived on deck and found that the seaman was already lashed to the whipping post, and a big steersman was holding a whip.

Apparently, several of the ship’s crew had seen Kilmer knock free the rope and blame the seaman. Word had spread and there was a dangerous muttering among the crew. It was as close to mutiny as the ship had ever been.

“I claim the right to do the whipping myself,” Jason said, taking the whip from the steersman. The muttering lessened.

“What?” shouted Master Kilmer. “He is but a boy. He cannot possibly handle a whip.”

With that Jason flicked the whip out, and it hit Kilmer on the cheek, drawing a fine bead of blood from the scar. The master winced and put his hand out to staunch the blood.

“I think that proves the boy can handle a whip,” the captain said. “It his right to conduct the discipline of his own man. Five lashes have been proscribed.”

Jason took the whip and walked up to the seaman. He stroked the whip across the man’s back, more of a massage than a whip. “One,” the boy called. He then stroked the whip softly again, and this time the entire ship’s company yelled “two”. The muttering had stopped entirely.

“Three,” the crew shouted at the next soft lash.

“This is preposterous,” Master Kilmer shouted. “That is not a lashing.”

Jason flicked the whip again, and a second small cut appeared on the cheek of the master, just below and parallel to the earlier one.

“Is that more to your liking,” the boy said. “Let me tend to my own business and you can mind your own. Unless you would like another sample.”

“Four, five,” the crew shouted gleefully as Jason made his last two lashes. The man was loosed from the whipping post and men were thumping his back, something that would have been painful had a normal lashing occurred.

“Captain,” Kilmer shouted. “The mate has unjustly struck me. I demand satisfaction.”

“Want another beating from the boy?” an unseen sailor shouted. Kilmer looked in the direction of the comment, hoping to see who spoke, but the men in that area just shuffled about to conceal the man.

“I find that the blows were justified,” the captain said. He had heard the muttering from the seamen, and the entire story was passed on by Kull, Jason’s master. He admired the way the boy had solved a sticky situation.

Kilmer just glared with murderous eyes at the boy, who had twice embarrassed him in front of the entire crew. He must die, the master decided as his face turned redder and redder.

Jason led his shift from the deck. They would go on duty in 11 hours, and most would sleep now after lunch. He went to his little cabin, where the smaller boy, Kookla couldn’t stop talking about the whipping. Thankfully for Jason the smaller boy was called to a duty, and Jason could sleep.

It was later in the afternoon when Kilmer popped into the galley, where Cookie had the evening meal in preparation. He was mixing up another batch of grog when the master arrived.

“Captain wants yer in the map room to report,” Kilmer said. Cookie looked down at the unlocked barrel of sugarwine that he was about to ladle into the grog water. “Now,” the master added. “I’ll watch the booze for you till you get back.”

Cookie headed off. None of the four men working on prepping the meal could see the barrel, so Kilmer went over and ladled out two helpings of the pure liquor into a tin container, which he hid in a niche just outside the galley.

Cookie came back irate. “Captain said he didn’t need me. Just a waste of time when we are very busy.”

“Sorry Cookie,” he said. “He asked the carpenter in for a report, so I assumed he wanted one from you too.” Cookie looked down his barrel and didn’t notice the level was a half inch shallower. He took out a single ladle of the sugarwine: enough for the entire crew, and then locked the barrel up again.

Kilmer left, and then went to the niche and recovered the stolen liquor. He felt he needed liquid courage to enable him to do what he wanted. The boy would be on deck a good hour before midnight, and Kilmer intended to throw the small boy overboard: an easy task for a man his size. He knew that someone would see, and he would return to port in chains, if he was not hung outright for murder. But his hatred for the boy was such that he was willing to take the risk. If he had a drink or three before.

Jason woke from his afternoon sleep completely refreshed just before sunset. He walked over to a bundle of spare sails sitting by the gunwale that made a comfortable seat. He took out a piece of wood and his knife and started whittling while it was still light enough. On his first voyage a sailor taught him to whittle and was disgusted when the boy became better than him in a few hours, thanks to his magic knife. Today the young mate decided to make a doll for Sissy. Emily was nearly 10, and no longer was so enthralled by dolls, but Sissy still loved them, dressing them up and playing with them.

Her dolls never had names: the girl was unable to remember names, so they were each named Dolly while she played with them. Jason smiled in the anticipation of her face when she saw the present. Sissy was not wise, but her smile would be a mile wide when someone gave her something.

Suddenly the knife hummed, and Jason dropped into battle mode. Looking up he saw someone approaching. It was hard to decipher the face while in the wireframe of battle mode, but soon Jason recognized Master Kilmer lurching towards him. It made sense: the master was the only man on the ship who didn’t like Jason. The man tottered badly as he walked towards the boy.

Suddenly he toppled forward, breaking into a run to keep from falling down. Then the ship lurched, and the sailor was too drunk to compensate, and he tottered and fell over the side of the ship. The master heard “Man overboard. Throw out a ring,” just before he hit the water.

After shouting, Jason sprang into action, and dove over the railing before the master even was in the water. He still had his knife in his hand, and it seemed to pull him down quickly. About 12 fathoms down Jason caught up with the sinking, unconscious master, and grabbed his collar.

Almost immediately the knife reversed its action and seemed to be pulling them up: a good thing, since the boy would have been unable to handle the big man’s weight otherwise. They broke the surface and Jason saw that a ring had been tossed and was able to haul the man to it. That was when he heard the thing he least wanted to hear: “Sharks coming,” one of the men in the crow’s nest sang out.

Jason quickly put the unconscious man’s hands through the ring and used a bit of rope from his pocket that was destined to be doll’s hair to tie them together. “Heave away boys,” he called, and as he saw the master’s feet break water Jason looked to the stern of the ship and saw shark fins approaching. Not one, but three in a line.

The knife hummed a warning: dive. Jason didn’t hesitate and did so, with the shark passing directly over him. He stuck the knife into the fish just behind the jaws and held on as the motion of the beast resulted in a deep cut, with entrails falling out.

The boy hit the surface in time get a quick gulp of air, and then the second fish appeared. This time the fish dove down a bit, aiming for his legs. Jason plunged the knife into the shark’s eye, and it went in nearly to his shoulder. He twisted the knife, as Kalo and his father had taught him, and tore apart the animal’s brain. Then there was a second or two until the third shark appeared, and this time the knife told him to dive again. Again he made a massive slit in the belly of the fish.

“More sharks a-coming,” the watch called out.

“Send down a ring, for the Goddesses sake,” the boy yelled up. “Get the one from the other side of the deck if you have to.” Apparently, no one had thought to do that as several sailor’s tried to free the ring from the master. Almost a minute later Jason saw a ring hit the water near him at the same time as he spotted a dozen fins approaching. The boy nearly leapt out of the water grabbing the rope on the ring as he put one foot into the ring. “Haul for all you’re worth,” he sang out, and a dozen hands started pulling on the rope, getting Jason clear of the sharks just in time.

Strong hands grabbed him as he reached the rail, and hauled him onto the deck, where he fell. Other sailors had gotten Kilmer free of the ring finally, and four carried him to sick bay. Another four wanted to do the same with Jason, but he shook them off, telling them he was okay, just spent from the action. He rolled over to his side, and a small pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist.

“I thought you were dead,” Kookla sobbed. “There was all that blood in the water. Then your head popped up and you jumped on the rope.”

None of the other men were crying, but you could see in their eyes they were just as concerned as the smaller boy. Jason hauled himself to his feet and went to the rail, where he saw a dozen sharks in a feeding frenzy, cannibalizing the fish Jason had killed. The sharks had not eaten in days since the hurricane had robbed them of their normal food, and they were ravenously devouring their mates.

“Report, second mate,” the Captain called from the stern deck. Jason still had his arm around Kookla and pushed the boy behind him so the captain would not see his son crying onboard. Jason walked a few paces towards Keenstone while other seamen concealed the boy. He was more a mascot on board than a crew member, but most of the men liked the tyke.

“First Master Kilmer fell overboard,” Jason said. “I went over to get him. He is in sick bay still unconscious I think.” Jason looked back at one of the men who had carted the master off, and the man nodded.

“I heard word of sharks,” the captain said.

“There were three that I killed. The men hauled me up before the others came.”

“’e’s a shark slayer, that one,” an unidentified sailor called out and that was how Jason earned a nickname.

“How is it that the master fell?” the captain asked.

“The ship lurched, and he went in,” Jason explained.

“How does a seaman of 20 years not hold the deck,” Keenstone said. “Very strange.”

“This might be the reason,” Cookie said, coming forward holding the tin, now drained of sugarwater. “The master came by earlier and sent me to you. There is a smell of sugarwater here, full strength it seems. I suspect the master took some and used it to get drunk.”

Keenstone frowned. As Captain Snow had feared, liquor on board had caused problems. He would have to do something to prevent other sailors from getting ahold of the sugarwater, now that they knew it was possible. “Water down all the sugarwater to the level of grog,” he commanded. As soon as possible. Tonight, if you can.” The cook scurried off.

“Are you all right to continue your duties tonight?” the captain asked Jason. “It will be midnight in an hour.” Jason looked up and noted that stars were starting to appear. The captain looked at the other two masters: Kertle was on duty, and Kull would go on as soon as Jason took over.

“I’m putting the masters on storm watch until we decide on Kilmer. He may not be restored to his rank. Drunkenness on board is a major infraction. We are a few days out of port, so Kull will take the day shift after finishing tonight, and then Kertle will take the next two shifts.”

Jason was fully recovered when it came time for the mates and their masters to patrol the deck. There were several items out of place due to the rescue, including a half-carved doll and whittling remains. Jason grabbed the doll and ordered Kull to have the men get the other things shipshape as soon as the men came on.

Once that was done, there was a delay in getting the lessons started while the men interrogated Jason about his adventure. Then there was another lesson on the alphabet, followed by another session on the constellations. Jason wondered what he would do if it was a cloudy night. For that matter, if it ever rained the writing lessons would be washed up.

Let’s take the time machine back a few days and see what happened from different perspectives: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 52 - Going down with the ship

Captain Snow grimaced. How is it possible that out of a ship with 35 men on it could he get the two most incompetent. He had ordered them to lower the first boat, and they did. Right onto the deck. The Captain moved to a nearby lifeboat and they tried again, this time getting the davits out over the water. Soon the men jumped into the boat and started to lower.

The stern went down by about two feet before the man in the bow loosened his winch. The boat dropped halfway to the water before the captain called ‘Halt’. This time it was the bow that was late in stopping, about five feet lower than the stern. “Together now,” the captain said, and the boat dropped to the water, hitting the bow first and then the stern. “Cast off,” the captain ordered, and the men managed to get the ropes freed.

The hurricane was just underway, but the swells were already twelve feet high or more. It was when the first wave had broken over the ship that the captain decided to flee and ordered the two novice sailors to help him with the boat. Kollor and Keeper were on their first trip on the Sun Goddess, and neither intended to ever sail again after they returned to Westport. When the captain told them he was heading for shore, they quickly agreed: the huge waves were terrifying to the rookies.

A bolt of lightning went off, followed by a massive roll of thunder. The three men in the boat were able to get a glimpse of the ship a half mile away, headed west. The two men got oars out and started to row, heading north towards shore. At least that is the way they hoped they were going. One oar was lost when the sailor fumbled getting it into the oarlock but that was not a disaster. The boat was designed to carry 10 men and had oars for eight. The captain didn’t help in the rowing but huddled in the bow among the emergency supplies.

One particularly bad wave struck, and both men jumped to the bottom of the boat, which rolled a full 360 degrees. When it righted itself, the two oars were gone, and five of the other six. The men got the last oar in place and rowed with two men on it at once. Even as rookie sailors they knew this was a recipe for going in a circle, so every 20 strokes they moved the oar to the other side. It was on the fifth or sixth time doing this when they fumbled again and lost the last oar.

The men then huddled in the stern, as far away from the captain as possible, and prayed. The next bolt of lightning was about an hour later, and the thunder woke the napping men. The lightning illuminated the boat, and they noticed that the captain was no longer huddled in the bow.

“’e’s gone,” Kollor said. “The cap’n’s gone.”

“An’ we’re gonners,” Keeper said. “Lest we’re close to shore we’re sure to roll agin.”

They did roll, but they were close to shore. It was nearly dawn although the sun only managed to lighten the dark of the night a bit. But after the roll the men saw the low bank of dunes a few hundred yards off and started to swim for it. Neither knew how to swim but being boat-less in the sea was a good time to learn. Keeper made the sandy shore first and lay exhausted for a quarter hour. He then stood and walked over to Kollor. He pulled the man up higher onto the sand, and thus realized that it was a corpse he was moving. He sank down next to the body as the heavy rain poured down on him.

I’ll freeze to death if I stay out here, the sailor thought. He looked both ways up and down the beach and decided to go west, since that was the way he wanted to end up. He chose correctly. It was three miles to the east to the first fisherman’s hut, but only a half mile to the farmer in the west. This was a small farm, and Keeper just crawled into a barn, the first building he came to. He crept under a pile of hay, glad to be out of the rain and snuggled into what soon became a warn little nest and passed out.

“You’re gonna be a dead dog if there is naught amiss,” a voice said as he followed a barking dog into the barn. “Door’s open a bit, but no loss.”

Then the dog stopped at the haystack and barked furiously. He woke Keeper from a deep and dry dream, and the sailor popped his head out.

“Land’s sake man,” the farmer said. “Where you come from?”

“I was on the Sun Goddess. Three of us left. One is dead on the beach a bit that away.” He motioned to the east. I’m sorry for using your barn, but I’d die out there.”

The farmer took Keeper into the house, even warmer, and introduced him to his wife. Even better, the woman was cooking breakfast and added some oats to the pot to feed the third man. The farmer ate quickly and then went to the stable to harness the donkey to a small cart, then went back out in the storm to bring back the dead body.

It was near noon when the farmer returned, saying that the cart and donkey were in the bigger barn. “I think we should set out now,” the farmer said. “That corpse ain’t going smell any sweeter in a couple days. We need a few supplies anyhow.”

“You aren’t going anywhere in this storm,” the farmer’s wife said. “And this fella is near dead tired. Look he cain’t hardly keep his eyes open.”

“No, we got to go now. That body warn’t in the sea for long, but ‘e’s still gonna reek in a bit. We’ll head out now. The boy kin sleep in the back if he needs ter. And doesn’t mind the company. Even with the storm as bad as it is, we should reach Westport afore midnight. I’ll stay with yer brother ov’r night and then handle business the next day. If it is still blowing like this, I’ll stay a second day. You’ll be fine with Copperhead here.” He nodded at the dog.

Keeler went out to the barn with the farmer and held the door for the man to bring the donkey out. He shut the door and climbed into the wagon bed, keeping as far from the corpse as possible. He was asleep in minutes.

It was dark when he woke. He scrambled up next to the farmer. “Good sleep lad? ‘tis about eleven. Two more miles and we’ll be in Westport. Ahead of my schedule. Where you want to be let off? My brother-in-law will take me in, but not you.”

Keeler thought about it. His family were farmers west of the port, and he didn’t relish walking five miles at midnight in the rain. “Mebee you kin drop me at the Colonel’s house. You know, where the Kithren school is?”

-----

Stone was walking home in the rain, his rubberized cloak doing little to keep the rain out. He had been at the shipyard, talking to the owner about the new ship he had decided to have built. The Moon Goddess was to be a sister ship, nearly identical to the Sun Goddess. He had gone to check on the new ship just after supper, getting drenched on the walk there. Once he had finally dried off, he had little desire to get wet again, and had delayed in hopes the teeming rain would let up. It hadn’t, and a bit before midnight the shipowner had politely kicked him out.

As he walked home, he saw a figure lurking on the porch to the house. He went to draw Pate, but the sword sang out that there was no danger, so he didn’t draw it. “What, do you want here,” Stone said as he walked up the steps.

The Kithren man there was startled. He had been napping in a chair on the porch. “I am waiting for Colonel Stone,” the man said.

“You have found him,” Stone said.

“Forgive me lord,” the man said, falling to his knees. “I was on your ship. My first voyage. The captain and I, and one other, left in a lifeboat when the big storm started. I was rescued from the beach by a farmer, and he brought me and the body of the other here to town. We don’t know what happened to the captain. He was on the boat, then he wasn’t.”

“Come into the house,” Stone said leading the man in where they both doffed their wet over things. Stone added a log to the fire, and the two men stood in front of it, trying to warm up. Stone got a few more details out of the man, and then Rayla appeared in her night gown.

“Aren’t you coming to bed,” she said and then noticed the black man. “Sorry, who are you?”

“This man was on Jason’s ship,” Stone said. “He and two others left in a lifeboat, and he is the only survivor.”

If you ever have stood under a fire department alarm in a small town, you might have heard a sound that resembled what ensued. Rayla wailed loud enough that not only all in the house were roused, but people in houses two or three away.

“Jason is drowned,” she sobbed over and over. “My boy is gone.”

Soon Emily, Sissy and even Cass were in the room. Emily heard what Rayla was saying and ran to hug her mother and wail just as loudly at the loss of her brother. Cass also was crying. She had fallen in love with the boy she fed every day. Sissy really didn’t understand what was happening, but with everyone else wailing, she joined in.

“Stop!” Stone ordered, loud enough to cause a break in the noise. “We don’t know if Jason drowned. He was on a big ship, and the two who died were in a tiny boat. I have faith in the captain – er, mate, and I’m sure the ship weathered the hurricane. They may be blown off course, but there is no reason to think the vessel went down.”

“I never should have let him go,” Rayla said, sobbing quietly now.

“You have seen his eyes about the ship,” Stone. “There is no way that the boy wouldn’t go to sea the minute he came of age. We just let him go early. And now he will have surviving a hurricane to add to his list of adventures.”

“You really think he survived?” the pretty woman said. “He will come back to me?”

“Yes he will. For a while: but he will go back to sea again,” Stone said. He turned to the black man, who had looked on in stunned silence. “We all need to go to bed. I plan an early start tomorrow. You can sleep on the couch.”

The next morning Stone arose early but not early enough to beat Cass up. She was in the kitchen and had a hearty breakfast ready. The black man was helping her.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Stone asked him as they ate their porridge.

“My family lives about five miles to the west. I could go there. I need to make sure that Kollor will be getting a decent funeral, though,” the sailor said.

“Do you have money? Here, take a gold. That should pay the undertaker and the change will be your pay for the bit of a voyage you took. You can stay here tonight, and until the rains stop.

«You expect me to go out in that? You must be crazy,» Doug said as Stone saddled him. But his complaints ended as soon as he read the big man’s mind about his son. Stone placed a rubberized cover over the horse and then climbed aboard. They headed to the east in a trot. Two soldiers and a pack horse unhappily accompanied them.

Stone had recognized the farm Keeper had spoken of. In the days when he led wagon trains along the road, the man there let him water his horses for a silver. It took several hours to get there.

The farmer’s wife was hesitant to let the wet men in, until she recognized the big man from his earlier visits. She fed the two soldiers, who had been roused from their sleep without breakfast while Stone walked Doug east to the cove the woman said the men came ashore in. The rain over the past 24 hours had completely obliterated any signs of the event, so Stone started walking west along the beach. The waves were still fairly high, although Stone thought the rain was lighter than yesterday.

At the house the newly fed soldiers mounted up, and the three men walked along the beach. A mile later they started to see debris, but Stone quickly recognized it as from a boat, not the ship. Two miles further along, they came across a body bobbing in the surf. Stone identified it as the captain, and it was tied astride the pack animal.

The three men walked the rest of the way back, stopping for a supper at the lighthouse at Blue Point. Stone paid four silver for the meal, and an hour of warmth in the keeper’s house and then they headed back to town with their gruesome burden. Stone sent one of the men to the undertaker’s with it and then the others headed back to the house where Rayla eagerly interrogated him before he even got his wet gear off.

“What did you learn!” she asked.

“Well, there is good news and bad news,” Stone said. “The good news is that there was no evidence of a shipwreck. There was some debris, but only from a boat. Nothing from a ship. If a ship goes down, even if it sinks, there are masts and sails and ropes that come to shore. We saw none of that.”

“The bad news?” Rayla whispered.

“We found the captain. Dead,” Stone said softly.

“Oh no,” Rayla moaned. “So, Jason could have drowned too?”

“I don’t think so. And definitely not to the east.”

“Will you check the west, then?” the woman said.

“Yes I will,” Stone replied. “But not until tomorrow. What have you been up to today?”

“Well, word spread fast, like it always does in this town. I had several wives of sailors on the ship come by. Many of their husbands have sailed for years, so they were able to calm me down. Nora Keenstone, the wife of the first mate came by. We really clicked. She has a lovely family: two boys and two little girls. Her eldest son is on the ship too, as a cabin boy. I think that is why we clicked so well. Sissy played dolls with the little girls, and Emily took over with the baby while the older boy, about six, played with some of Jason’s old toys. When she left, Nora paid Emily eightpence for babysitting, and tuppence to Sissy. She said she was glad to find someone she could trust to babysit. The two of us made a date to go to one of the cafes next week. Emily will sit with the kids again.”

“Well, hopefully by then your boys will be back and safe by then,” Stone said. “What of Keeper? Is he still here?”

“Yes, he has been most useful. I think he has a thing for Cass, even if she is nearly 10 years older. He certainly loves her food. And he has been useful, getting wood from the barn to use in the stove and the fire. Then, without even being asked, he took several more loads of wood from the woodpile and moved into the barn to dry off.”

“So, you don’t object to him staying on for a while?”

“No. It is nice having a man about the house when you are away,” she said.

“Well, I will be away for two days this time,” Stone said. “One day out, and one day back. Have Cass pack up a dozen meals for us. We leave early in the morning.

The ride out the next morning was less miserable. The rain continued, but at times fell back to a heavy drizzle. Then that evening it stopped completely and the sun broke out just before sunset. The black clouds of the hurricane were far to the northwest. The men pitched their tents and were able to get some soggy sleep that night.

On the way back, it was actually sunny after mid-morning. One the way back Stone, who had scanned the near shore on the way out, looking for debris, was now scanning the sea. He thought he saw something on the horizon. He pulled out his looking-glass and peered through it.

It was a ship. It looked like the Sun Goddess, but the main mast was shorter than the mizzen mast. He looked out and the ship came closer. The vessel was not coming at them, but at an angle. The search party continued along the shore to pace it. Finally, he saw that a small person on the deck started jumping up and down. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with what looked like flags. He started to wave the flags, and Stone immediately knew what he was doing.

This one was evil. I had to drop two scenes out of it and it still grew to a fair size. Don’t worry, the deleted scenes will appear next time the ship is at sea: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 53 – Heading to Port

The morning after Kilmer had been rescued from drowning, he woke up in sick bay with nothing more than a massive headache, caused by the sugarwine he had consumed. Luckily Kalosun had a remedy for that, so when the captain and Jason approached the sick bay on their morning inspection of the ship, his head had stopped pounding, and he felt very close to human. He even heard Jason and the captain speaking just outside of the sick bay,

“I think if Kalosun feels he can work, we should put Kilmer back on duty,” the boy said.

“But he was drunk on the job,” the captain insisted. “He needs to be punished.”

“Nearly drowning is punishment,” Jason argued. “When the men tell him how close he came to being shark food, that will reinforce the close call he had. And making Kull and Kertle work extra shifts is punishing them, and they did nothing”

“Okay, if you feel he has learned his lesson, then no demotion. I have faith in your sense for the men,” Keenstone said. “But he must be punished. Twenty heavy lashes from one of the tillermen. No Jason lashes.”

“Ten,” Jason argued. “Twenty lashes would leave him in sick bay for a week and the others will still have to cover his shift,”

“Twelve,” Keenstone said. “He should be able to work through that, and he will never again steal sugarwine.”

Kilmer stood inside the sick bay, listening to the two talk, and was completely flummoxed. A day before he had wanted to kill the boy for embarrassing him, and now he had saved his position. A few lashes were nothing compared to being demoted. He had worked 20 years to earn a master’s position, and if he lost it, he would certainly never be considered for another one. Jason had saved his life yesterday, and today he had saved his career.

The captain entered sick bay and spoke to Kalosun for a few minutes and then came to Kilmer and told the man he was not being demoted but was to be whipped after lunch. Jason went to the closet he and Kookla shared, planning to get the dolly he had been whittling for Sissy. Jason normally didn’t sleep until after lunch.

The smaller boy was not there but ran up before Jason got settled with his knife. “Jason,” the new ship’s monkey said, “there is water in the lower hold. Up to almost my knees.”

“Good work,” Jason said. He followed the little guy down into the hull, where Kookla stopped three rungs from the bottom of the ladder, the last dry one. Jason went on down and stood in the middle of the hold. He listened and could hear water coming in from somewhere on the forward port side of the ship.

“Kookla. Go get the carpenter and tell him there is a leak and bring him back here with his tools.” And tell your father there is need for a crew on the pumps.” Jason then worked his way through the barrels and sacks in the hold towards the sound of water.

“Where are you, Jason,” the carpenter called out.

“Over here,” the boy said. “I don’t know if you can get all the way here. It is pretty narrow. Have Kookla come. He can squeeze in, and hand me tools, if you can tell me what to do. The water is gushing in pretty fast. It seems to be a seam between two planks, about an inch thick and three feet long.”

The carpenter only thought a few seconds. “Press on either of the boards, top and bottom. Are they solid, or do they give?”

Jason took a minute to check as the water spilled over him. “The bottom board gives about a half inch when I press on it. The top one is secure.”

“Damn,” the carpenter swore. “We are near port and we could just limp back with men manning the pumps. But if that lower board pops, the water will gush in quicker than we can pump it. We will go down in 10 minutes. Tell me how many boards from the deck above to the bad ones.”

Jason counted. “Twelve, thirteen counting the one above the leak.”

“Damn again. That means that the leak is five boards or so below the water line. We need to try and plug the leak with a rope. I’ve got four feet of inch-and-a-quarter rope. Can you plug it into the gap? I’ve got a mallet.”

“Have Kookla bring them in to me,” Jason said.

Soon he could hear the small boy crawling through the stacks of goods to near Jason.

“Have you got the rope and the mallet?”

“Yes Jason,” the boy said with a quivering voice. “It is dark and scary in here, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be afraid,” Jason reassured the youngster as he took the rope and mallet from badly shaking hands. “I’m here, so you know nothing bad will happen.”

Jason took the rope and hammered it into the gap with a half-foot at either end quickly sliced off with his knife. “Back out Kookla, to where the carpenter is. Take this mallet to him. I’m going to sit here a minute and make sure it holds.”

After a minute Jason called out: “It is still leaking, but the rope is holding most of the water out. I would say that less than a tenth of the former leak is getting through.”

“Come out boy,” the carpenter called. “We can do nothing more here. We must report to the captain.”

As Jason came out, he saw Kilmer pounding the beat out for the pump crew, who marched over the pump in silence, looking down and ignoring the master. The carpenter, Kookla and Jason headed up to the aft deck to report to the captain.

“The water is down, Captain,” Kookla said excitedly. “It is just above my ankles now.”

The captain smiled at his eager son, and then looked to the carpenter: “The board below is weakened. If it pops, then the ship will go down. We really need to seal the joint from the outside as well. The problem is that the leak is underwater. We need three sailors who can swim to seal it well.”

“Few sailors can swim,” the captain said. He called out to the assembled men on the day shift, along with men of the other shifts who were idling on the deck. “Who here can swim?” No man raised a hand.

“I can swim,” Jason said. “I was underwater for several minutes yesterday.”

Keenstone looked long and hard at his second mate. If Jason dies, Rayla and Stone would be furious with him. But if the board pops, the entire ship will sink, and Jason could still die. The only difference was Keenstone would also die, which seemed like a better path.

“If Jason goes, I will too,” called out one of the men from the third shift. “And I,” another man said. It seemed that Keenstone’s decision was made for him.

The carpenter started to explain what needed to be done. The ship would have to hove to in the water, stopping entirely. The sea was as calm as glass now with nearly no wind, and the three men would be lowered over the side standing on a board, with Jason in the middle. The two men at the side would hold Jason with one hand and the rope up to the deck with the other. This would allow the boy to pound in a tar-soaked rope and seal the leak. The tar would bond with the other rope already in the gap and make for a tight seal.

The plank, and then the three men, went over the side and were lowered down. The first dunking allowed Jason to find the bad plank, about five planks below sea level. The boy also learned that a sea “as smooth as glass” still had waves about a half-foot high. The plank was lifted up and repositioned more exactly over the leak. The carpenter handed Jason another rope, this time coated in tar. The board was lowered again.

Jason secured one end into the leak, hitting it with the mallet to secure it. But halfway across, the rope came loose at the end, and dropped into the sea. Jason called for a lift, and the board was hauled up. One of his two helpers was sputtering badly, and nearly fell into the water. An alert seaman grabbed him and pulled him over the gunwale where he collapsed on the deck. Jason looked first at the other man on the board with him, who seemed fine. Then he turned over and saw another man from his third shift crawling over the rail to join them.

Jason heard a humming from his leg and realized that his knife wanted him to use it as a hammer instead of the mallet. When the carpenter handed him another tar covered rope, Jason bit it in his teeth and gave the mallet back to the stunned man. He reached down and pulled out the knife and signaled the men on the ropes to let them down again.

This time it worked. Using the hilt of the knife as a hammer, Jason flatted the rope into the seam, and it held from side to side. The signal to raise the men was given again, and Jason noted that the replacement helper let go of him just as they broke water. Jason slid over and grabbed the rope as the man, now unconscious, slumped. He managed to hold the man upright on his shoulder until a man on the gunwales could grab him and pull him over to the deck. It turns out the man could not swim and had volunteered out of pure bravery.

After the leak was sealed Jason waited for lunch. With his night shift he slept from about one to nine, before rising a few hours before the shift. As he ate, he noticed that Kilmer was eating alone. None of the men would speak to him, and most would not even look at him. Apparently, a few men had seen the master attacking Jason, and figured out his intent. The word spread, and soon the entire crew had decided to give Kilmer the cold shoulder.

After Jason took his tin lunch plate to the washing barrel, he sought out the mate. “Good to be back at work,” Jason said cheerfully.

“Tis,” the master said to the first words spoken to him in hours.

“Walk with me,” Jason suggested, and the men patrolled the deck. Jason walked near many of the crew and greeted the men by name. The men, of course, replied and Jason often led them into a conversation with the master. The men noticed that Jason was not upset with Kilmer and decided they didn’t need to be either.

“How do you do it,” Kilmer asked Jason when they were alone. “I tried to kill you, and you saved me. Then I heard you convince the captain not to demote me. And now you are making sure that the men don’t shun me for the rest of the trip. How can you be so good to me?”

“My mother always says that there is good inside of everyone,” Jason said. “Maybe not everyone, but she says to assume that the good is there. I think you are good, even if you tried to do bad things. I probably shouldn’t have lashed you like that.” The master reached up to the twin scars on his cheek. “But you definitely did not deserve to drown or become shark food. And I know you are really a good master and didn’t want to see you lose that.”

After two hours walking the deck, Jason went below for a shortened nap, rising at about eight in the evening.

“Land Ho,” came a shout from the watch on the fore mast. Looking up, Jason saw the man pointing to the north. Every man on the deck rushed to the port rail of the ship and peered to the north.

“I sees it,” a sharp eyed sailor called out, followed by dozens of others. Jason, who had good eyes, saw it fairly early, but did not call out.

For the rest of the evening the mood on the ship was greatly improved. The ship was still two days from Port, as the captain and other navigators had claimed, but it was just reassuring to have land in sight after the ordeal from the hurricane and everything that followed.

By the time Jason’s shift started at midnight it was too dark to see land anymore, but it was a relief knowing it was there, a few hours away should the men have to take to lifeboats. Sailing it was a longer route, since the ship sailed at an angle along the shore, headed for the docks at WestPort. The two men who had been taken to sick bay were on duty that night: Kalosun had given them each a tonic that made them expel the sea water from their lungs, and a few hours rest saw them back on deck.

At eight a.m., when the shifts changed again, the land was more clearly in sight. You could see the odd house, farm, or fisherman’s shanty on the shore. After inspecting the deck with the Captain and Kilmer, and going off duty, Jason went to the port rail and stared at the shore. You could even see the road. There were three horsemen heading towards WestPort. Jason stared harder. One of the men was much bigger than the others, on a bigger horse. Suddenly it hit him. It was Stone, his father. The boy jumped up and down and screamed, causing the watch to look out at the shore.

Stone was swinging his arms about, and Jason realized what he was doing. He left the rail, and grabbed the scarfs off of two sailors, then went back to the rail, swinging the red and blue scarfs in a form that had all the other occupants of the ship confused. But Stone, who had learned semaphore signaling as a boy scout, had taught the boy the code, and they were now communicating. Jason had the harder task, since Stone had no flags and was only signaling with his bare arms. But the boy could make out the message: ‘Port, 7, L’ followed by a pointing back to the east.

“Father says the port is seven leagues to the east,” Jason shouted to the captain.

Just then a large eagle landed on the port rail, near Jason. “Ketch it,” one of the sailors said. “It’ll make a fine dinner.”

“No,” Jason shouted. “I know that bird. It is Arthur.” He turned to Kookla, standing by in amazement. “Run to the map room and get me a pencil and a bit of paper. About this size.” He showed a size of about two inches by six.

The little tyke ran and was back a minute later. Jason took the paper and wrote one word on it: ‘Mother’. He then rolled the paper up and tied it to the claw of the bird, who then lifted away and flew straight back to WestPort and Rayla.

A bit late on this one. I am hoping to keep up at two per week, but stuff keeps happening: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 54 – Mariner’s school

The ship finally reached port the following day and was able to land at WestPort on the morning incoming tide. They had been present for the outgoing tide and saw no less than five whalers leaving port: the whaling season was on again.

Stone and Rayla were at the dock, as normal, to pay off the sailors. As well most of the wives and girlfriends of the crew were there to collect the pays. Rayla had gotten her message from her son via Arthur the prior day and treasured the little slip of paper that told her Jason was thinking of her. She still had it tucked inside her massive bra.

While she was waiting, Nora Keenstone, the captain’s wife, chatted with her while waiting for her son and husband. As the ship rolled in, the half of the crew with no docking duties stood along the port rail, and Nora saw the tiny figure of Kookla, and had trouble not screaming out to him. Rayla looked for Jason, since the cabin boys generally left the ship first. When she did not see him, she would have worried, if not for the message he had sent.

Finally, Stone turned, and called back to her, knowing instinctively that she would be worried. “Look up at the aft deck,” he called out and she saw Jason, wearing a fancy mate’s jacket that was at least three sizes too big for him. The officers left the ship last, with the captain taking the traditional final position.

Kookla came down the ramp, and Stone shook the tiny hand and placed a silver in it as bonus. The little boy then ran down dock and nearly leaped on his mother, who hugged him tightly. Nora had the rest of the family with her: the four-year-old twin girls and their six-year-old brother. Rayla had brought Emily and Sissy along, and Emily held Nora’s baby as Sissy and the little girls played with their dolls. Nora held onto her son tightly as the other sailors came off the ship to meet their wives and girlfriends. After the fears caused by the hurricane, it was an especially sweet reunion for the couples.

Stone paid three silver bonus to the seamen and then five to the masters and seven to the mates, including, to his surprise, his son. Keenstone got a gold for bringing the ship back to port, and then Stone walked the captain down the dock. “Captain’s pay to this one,” she told Rayla and Nora’s eyes went wide when she saw how much money her husband now earned. Keen also handed her the gold, and his tiny wife looked like she thought she was the richest woman in WestPort.

About halfway through the disembarkation, Kalosun came down, along with three other sailors carrying the man still wearing a cast on one arm and one leg. A female voice cried out in alarm, and then raced up to see her injured husband, relieved when he grumpily told her to step back and get his pay. The man has a traditionally bad temper, and she was delighted to see his back to his old ways.

Kalo and his three helpers got their pays and bonus, and then hoisted their burden again to carry the grumbling man home.

Stone and the captain walked together to the shipyard to see about getting repairs made to the vessel. Keenstone saw the skeleton of the Moon Goddess under construction and suggested that if some of the parts for that ship were used, the Sun Goddess could be repaired and made ready faster, in six weeks instead of two months.

While they were there, Jason escorted his family home as well as the Keenstone clan. Sissy was ecstatic with the wooden doll he had whittled for her, which she showed off to her younger friends. Jason was rewarded with the wide smile that the girl gave him. She was already making plans on what clothes to make for the little wooden doll. Jason was silent most of the way, although he did ask his mother a question quietly, since she had her arms wrapped around him: “Do you still teach night school?”

“No, dear. I just do administrative work for the school. No teaching.”

“Would you like to take some on, for the next few months?”

“I could. What do you have in mind?” she replied.

“Well, it is going to be a month or two before the ship is ready to sail again. Some of the men will start to feel the pinch going that long without a pay. I noticed very few headed off to the bars after they got their bonus. They know they will need that money to pay expenses. I was thinking that if we had a seaman’s school, similar to the one we ran before when the old captain taught men to be mates and masters, and Dad paid them a salary to attend, it would be easier on them. Especially if we are going to have two ships to man when the Moon Goddess is complete. Starting a school now will get the second ship crew trained.”

“What would you want me to teach? I don’t know all that much about matters nautical,” Rayla asked.

“No, but most can’t read or write, and have poor number skills. I taught some of the men on my shift when we were coming back. If you could teach that, then I could concentrate on rules of the sea and navigation. I am pretty good at that stuff. Hopefully Kalosun could teach first aid and Kithren fighting. The men are quite eager to learn that.”

“How many students?”

“There are 35 on the ship. Well, 32 now since the three left. There might be a few more who want to learn to sail. Most men were signed on to the whalers, but there could be more,” Jason said.

“Two classes then,” Rayla calculated. “We could do it in the new school at night, or even use the old school next to the house during the day. Oh, I have a surprise for you? Our neighborhood is changing.”

Jason looked up and noticed that the house next to the old school was gone. As they got closer, he saw that the foundations and basement walls were still there. A dozen Kithren workmen were scurrying about the place. The house was what Stone had called a split level, although Rayla had never known such a building style in 1950s Earth. Half the basement was about eight feet below ground level, and the other half was only four feet down. Men were dumping sand into the floors onto heavily tarred concrete.

“What is that?” the boy asked.

“It is going to be a swimming pool. Stone is building it as a present for Emily’s birthday. But the whole family can use it. When the hot days of summer come, I suspect it will be full of students as well. The school has a program where doing well on a test or exam, or just working hard, earns the student a pass to use the pool. Unfortunately, there are too many students for unlimited use.”

“That is so cool. We could teach the sailors to swim.”

“Can’t they swim now? I mean, being at sea you would expect that they can.”

“No,” Jason said sorrowfully. “Very few can swim. If we could teach them even a bit, it could save their lives. Being able to get to a ring tossed from the ship, or a life raft would be important.”

“Well, I have hired two people who can swim to be lifeguards at the pool, and they will be giving lessons to Emily, Sissy and anyone else who wants to learn. They could teach your men as well.”

When they got into the house, Cass was there to encircle Jason in her mighty bosom. Apparently, she had prepared all of the boy’s favorite foods for the next few days. After dinner Jason and Stone left to go to Captain Keenstone’s home for a report on the voyage. Jason barely got into the door when Kookla pried himself off his mother’s lap and ran and nearly leaped on the young mate.

The reporting on the ship’s voyage took until late in the evening. Jason turned red several times as Keenstone extolled the boy’s actions during and after the hurricane.

“Do you wish to make his promotion permanent?” Keen asked. “And my own, for that matter.”

“The Captain must be retained,” Jason interrupted to tell his father in no uncertain terms. “He is far better a captain than Snow ever was. And if he doesn’t lead us, I know a lot of the crew will go back to whalers. I’ll not sail without him, that is for sure.”

“Don’t tell your mother that,” Stone joked, “or she will want me to fire Keen just to keep you ashore.”

“I said I wouldn’t sail with a different captain, not that I would stop sailing. Whatever ship the captain sails on will have me aboard, even if it is just a whaler.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we,” Stone said with a smile. “Keen will remain captain.” He turned to the Kithren man. “And what about Jason? He is young to be a mate. Aren’t the men upset that the owner’s son got to be mate at such an early age?”

“Jason saved the ship twice, and two different sailors from drowning,” Keenstone said. “The men love him. He teaches them math and writing during idle times in their shifts. They would miss him if he was not on board and might mutiny if he was demoted back to cabin boy or ship’s monkey. Besides, he is the best navigator we have.”

Stone then explained Jason’s plan for the seaman’s school, which the captain agreed with, and even volunteered to help wherever Jason felt was appropriate.

“Something else,” Jason said. “I think we should have a larger crew on the ship. Twelve seamen on each shift instead of nine, and two masters. A second cook, a second carpenter and two cabin boys. A third mate. The captain shouldn’t do mate duties. It will be more than we need, but it means that when the Moon Goddess is ready, we can split the crews better. Then we could go back to the regular crew size: except the third mate. I think a captain unencumbered by mate’s duties will be more effective.”

Stone and Keen talked the idea over, and eventually came to the conclusion that the idea was a good one. Then Keenan, the captain’s six-year-old son spoke up: “If there are going to be two cabin boys, can I be one?”

Keen laughed. “No son. I think you need grow a bit more. Besides, your mother needs a boy at home. Kookla found it hard at age nine, I think the second boy will be 11 or 12.”

Eventually Stone and Jason left. It was getting late into the spring, so the sun was up longer, but it was dark when they headed for home.

In the house Rayla led Stone up to their bedroom, telling Jason he was in charge of the girls. They immediately sat down around him and started an interrogation: enthralled by his stories of the trip. Sissy had her new doll on her lap, already clothed, but ignored it as they listened to the stories their brother was telling. Even Cass came in to listen.

Jason woke early, but the sun was already up. He walked to the Keenstone house, and found Kookla on the porch, watching the day start on a deck that didn’t roll with the waves.

Jason waved the boy over, and they walked into town together. They walked down to the dock and saw that the gerry-rigged mast had already been removed, making the ship look odd. On the way back Jason stopped into one of the town bakeries. They each bought a sweet, and then Jason remembered the bakery back in Greenstone.

“I need to get some for Emily and Mom, and Sissy and Cass too,” he said. “Do you want to get some for your family too?”

“I should,” Kookla said. “We seldom got store-bought treats when Dad was on the whalers. There just wasn’t money. But Mom says we have lots now, and your Dad gave me a silver when we landed. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“No need. Or you can buy tomorrow,” Jason said.

“Tomorrow? You mean we will do this again?”

“Sure, why not. I like being with you,” Jason said as the boys walked to their prospective homes. Kookla shone with pride at knowing that his hero enjoyed his company.

Yeah, only one chapter this week. I have started another story and spent a lot of time on it. I promise to keep this one going. We are just getting close to where we go overseas: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 55 – Waiting for repairs

The next morning Jason found Kookla waiting on his porch. The pair walked down to the shipyard and inspected the repairs. Something had been done to lift the ship part way out of the water, and they could see workers putting new boards on the leak that Jason had repaired. The gerry-rigged main mast had been removed, making the vessel look odd with only two masts.

On the way back, they stopped again at the bakery. As well as sweets for his family, Kookla bought two loaves of bread. “Mamma always used to bake our bread, getting up early in the morning. Now that we have the money, she said she will sleep in and we can eat store-bought bread.”

“Look,” Jason said, pointing to the boy’s house. “You have an audience.” Three of the other children were on the porch, jumping up and down when they saw their brother, anticipating the treats he had in one bag. Kookla’s younger brother ran down from the porch and begged to get the bag of treats.

“You take the bread to mamma,” Kookla said showing some leadership in spite of his tender years. “If you take the treats you will probably smash them. Come back out to the porch and you’ll get yours, I promise.”

Jason left Kookla, now the hero of his younger siblings, and headed back to the house. He had treats for his family, but only Sissy was waiting for him. She took his hand with one of hers, holding a tart in the other. It felt odd to Jason to have a sister who was six or seven years younger physically, but who was mentally still only four or five. Even so he loved her almost as much as Emily, who he had cared for his entire life, and now was starting to act like an adult. At times. She was nine now, not so interested in dolls, but starting to pay attention to boys, Jason noted. She was inside helping Cass make bread, although she and the big black woman gladly took a break to nibble at the pastries.

“Good, you’re here,” Rayla said as she entered the room, snatching one of the tarts. “We need to work out how your school will work. Are they coming today?”

“At four,” Jason replied. “Dad said he would pay a living wage to the sailors who show up, and half that for any others who want to learn sailing. Most of those live with parents, although there are a few who are coming in after finishing another job.”

“So, what will we do today?” Rayla asked.

“I’d like to start with reading and writing. And math if you have a teacher, although I can do that. We will break at eight for a bite. Can Cass have sandwiches? Man-sized, not the ones that the kids got.”

“That’s why we are on our third batch of bread today,” Rayla said with a smile.

“After we eat, a quick lesson on money. Most of the men are pretty good with that, especially the smaller denominations,” the boy continued. “And then when it gets dark, we should have a couple hours to look at the stars. I will have to take the entire bunch together for that. The stars won’t wait for a second group. The sky is clear now. I hope that will last after dark.”

“All right, what about day two?” Rayla asked.

“Reading and writing for the class that did Math on day one, and math for the others. After lunch, if I can call it that, I want Kalosun to give some lessons on first aid. It will depend on the skies if we can do stars again. If not, then some Kithren fighting lessons. The men are particularly interested in learning how to do that.”

The pair had sketched out the first two weeks by the time lunch came, and Stone came in from the shipyard. He estimated that the repairs would be done in eight weeks, thanks to having the second ship under construction. Normally it would take twelve weeks, but by using parts from the Moon Goddess, they would save a month. Of course, that was going to delay the new ship by months, since little work would be done on it while the Sun Goddess was repaired. Stone didn’t say so, but the two vessels would be eating into his gold reserves during that time, not to mention the men being paid to go to school.

School went well the first day, with some of the men being surprised by the free meal. There were 37 sailors from the Sun Goddess, and over a dozen others wanting to learn the trade. Not all of the latter took well to being taught by a 12-year-old. One in particular seemed to object to Jason telling him what to do and had soon gained three buddies who also griped.

So, on the second day, Jason decided he had enough of the snide comments and verbal abuse. “Today, since the skies are cloudy and the stars won’t be out, we will start on Kithren fighting,” the boy told the assembled group. The men from the ship were eager and avid, having been wanting to learn this since seeing Jason throw Kilmer in their scuffle on the ship over the mate’s position. “Kendrel, you seem to have a lot to say in the other classes. Perhaps you would like to help out in this class. I want you to attack me and try to bring me down.”

The men from the ship snickered. They knew what was coming. The others, including Kendrel’s buddies, just prepared for the big man to quickly subdue the smaller boy.

“No ‘try’ about it,” Kendrel said as he ran at the boy. Then, suddenly, he discovered himself flying through the air and landing on his back. Luckily his head hit the soft sod of the lawn, instead of a hard, oak deck, but he was still groggy when he got back to his feet. He ran again and flew again. Then three more times. He finally was forced to admit defeat, but still sneered at the boy and promised revenge.

“Okay,” Jason said. “I teach you lessons, and you do not hear. I don’t think you are suited to a life at sea. Off with you. You are expelled from this school.”

The others gasped. They hadn’t realized how much power the boy had. His shipmates just smiled. This was the Jason they knew and loved. The boy turned to the three mates of Kendrel. “Do you three want to start to learn now, or do you want to leave with this fellow?”

“Look out,” several of the class called out. Jason was already aware that Kendrel had turned and was charging at him: his knife had hummed out a warning. At the last second the boy just took three quick steps back and watched the older man smash into the big oak tree in the front yard. He hit the wood with such force that a dozen acorns fell as he slumped to the ground, totally unconscious.

“I think we will break off the Kithren fighting class for tonight and let Kalosun teach you the basics of first aid, since Mr. Kendrel has also volunteered to help in that demonstration,” Jason said as he turned and walked away. Kalosun immediately stepped forward and began to explain how to lay out an unconscious man and had some of the crew give artificial respiration to the fallen man.

On the Friday of that week there were no classes. Instead, Stone ordered a side of beef from the butcher and it was delivered just before lunch. Stone had set up a long grill in the back yard and filled it with 24 feet of charcoal, which he lit in several places. He told Jason and Emily that there was a party that evening, which he called a ‘tail-gate’.

Jason helped in cutting up the side of beef: his magic knife sliced through the meet quicker than any of Cass’s blades. Soon he was doing all the cutting according to her specifications. Steaks were cut and Cass went off with the chuck, cutting it to small pieces and grinding it to make hamburger. Earlier in the week Rayla had gone to the butcher and taught him how to make small sausages she called ‘hot dogs’ and he had several dozen ready for the party.

The guests started coming around two p.m. All the students from the nautical school, most of the teachers from the kids’ school, and all their families were invited. There were eventually over 100 people in the three adjoining yards. Sissy had the youngest girls among the guests playing dolls, while Emily looked after the older girls, mainly watching the boys.

Jason and Kookla organized games and races for the boys, who were more competitive. Finally, the charcoal was deemed ready by Chef Stone, and meat was placed down. It was soon sizzling away, causing an enticing aroma that lured all guests, children and adults, to the grill where Stone, Kalosun, and Captain Keenstone were busy flipping and plating the meat. The invited women had all been asked to bring a side. The Kithren gardens in WestPort were still over-producing, so vegetable-based sides were in abundance, including corn on the cob, at no cost to the gardeners.

The hotdogs were a hit with the kids. Rayla had ordered two types of buns: one round type for what she was calling hamburgers, and a thin roll that was perfect for hot dogs. Condiments varied a bit from those common on earth, although relish, onions and a tomato sauce were common. Mustard did not exist on this world, but there was an orange Kithren sauce that replaced it. Hamburgers were popular with the adult women, and some of the older boys, while the men enjoyed steaks.

Everyone was busy eating for just over an hour, and then the stuffed people just grazed on the leftover sides. Eventually, between nine and ten folks started to leave, with almost everyone helping in the final clean-up.

Stone was pleased with the party. It had brought together his crew, the prospective crew of the Moon Goddess, and Rayla’s teachers. Those with families were glad to see their kids having such fun, and everyone was happy to have one less meal to pay for.

The party was repeated two weeks later, with the addition of the swimming pool as an attraction. The pool opening kept the kids of all ages busy, with three lifeguards on duty. They were also expected to work the pool during the day, when kids flocked to it, and in the evenings they gave swimming lessons to the sailors.

There were two more parties while the repairs to the ship were underway, each as pleasant as the last. These didn’t have the teachers involved, but half of the crew from the shipyard each time, making them slightly larger. Stone knew that after entertaining those men he would get nothing but quality work on his ships.

Finally, the Sun Goddess was made ready. There would be 46 men on it: the original crew and the best of the students from the sailor’s school. Most of the ones who didn’t get picked for the Sun Goddess were told that they would have jobs on the Moon Goddess when it was finished in a few months. The two ships would sail together for two weeks in convoy, and then would move to a schedule where each ship sailed out one week, and back the next, crossing halfway out.

Stone planned to follow this schedule for a few months, and then take the Sun Goddess across the ocean. This was expected to take a year each way, so the crews were largely divided so the men with families would take the Moon Goddess route, and single men would man the Sun Goddess. The exception would be Captain Keenstone, who was eager to see the new worlds and was willing to leave his family, who would draw money from the little jeweler to survive the two years. Of course, his son Kookla would be the cabin boy/monkey on the ship.

And Stone’s entire family, except for Cass, would be on the longer voyage. Cass and Keeper, the man who survived the old Captain’s abandoning ship, were also paid weekly by the jeweler. Those two had started to jell as a couple, and Rayla wanted him around to maintain the houses and keep Cass company.

Here’s another one: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 56 – The Dogfights

Steel trotted along after Stone when he left the dock, after watching Jason and Kalosun sail off to the east. Steel was the puppy Jason had brought from Greenstone, although he was now several years old. He had been in heaven for the past few months, following his boy around from dawn to dusk. Normally he only got to see Jason when he was not at sea, but while the ship was being repaired, he had the boy around for days at a time.

Stone had gone into the shipyard to make sure that work was resuming on the Moon Goddess and when he returned two hours later the dog was still sitting on the dock, staring at the point where the ship had last be visible, as if watching and waiting would make it return sooner. Stone called the dog, and with a last look over his shoulder to see if the ship was returning, he trotted after his secondary master.

Stone walked down the street until he was approached by a white man he didn’t recognize. The big man knew almost every Kithren in town, down to the young boys, but there were many whites he didn’t know, particularly scruffy working men like this fellow.

“Zat the dog gonna fight tonight?” the partially sober man asked.

“Fight? Steel? No, of course not. Why would you think he is going to fight?”

“I’se heared tha’ there were a German Shepard dawg in Miller’s fight tonight,” the man slurred.

“Are there dog fights at Miller’s? For how long?” Stone demanded.

“Since ‘bout nine weeks ago, now,” the man said, starting to realize if he had made a mistake in talking to the big man.

When Steel and his mother Daisy first came to WestPort, they were the only German Shepherds in town. Over the past few years Stone had noticed an increasing number of shepherd mixes, clearly showing that Steel was having his way with some of the other stray bitches and mutts. A few looked quite a bit like Steel but were all mixed breed. Daisy hadn’t had another litter since Steel’s, and now stayed in the house almost exclusively, although she had gone to the new school a few times last year when Rayla was teaching there, becoming a school mascot.

Now, in her waning years, she stayed at home, usually in the kitchen where she watched Cass like a hawk to see if anything spilled. Occasionally the cheerful cook would toss her a slip of beef fat or other goodies she was cutting up. The other member of the household who doted on the old dog was Sissy, who considered her a living doll, and would sew clothes for her, which the animal would abide by while the girl was around, but insisted with a bark that Cass take them off when Sissy lost interest and went elsewhere. Sissy was convinced that Daisy could unbutton the clothes herself, no matter how often Rayla said she couldn’t.

Stone left the inebriate and headed home after getting some more details about the dog fights, such as the time and place. He found Keeper in the garden.

“Did you know there are dog fights in this town?” Stone asked the handyman.

“Yep. Have been for years. They stopped when I was about 11, nine or ten years back, but I heard Miller has started them up again. His place isn’t too big, so he can only sell about 50 tickets at two silver each. Half goes to the purse and half to Miller. Winner take all. They’re usually eight dogs and they fight eliminations. Most of the money is in betting though. Miller takes a cut of that, a tenth I think.”

“That is disgusting,” Stone said. “Do the dogs get hurt much?”

“Oh sure,” Keeper replied. Usually one or two die each week. Of course they are always the losers. Sometimes even the winner gets tore up pretty badly. If they do, they get a few weeks to recover. If not, they are back next week as returning champion. If there is a returning champion and a healed-up former champion, then Miller charges four silver. Doesn’t happen often, but sometimes golds are bet on those fights.”

“Sounds like you’ve been to a few of those things,” Stone accused.

“None at Miller’s,” Keeper said. “Back when I was a boy and Armster was doing them, we used to sneak in through a hole in the gate and watch. Now I think it is too bloody.”

“Well we’re going tonight,” Stone said reaching into his coin purse. “Go to the butcher and buy eight steaks; about a pound each. They can be cheaper cuts … we aren’t going to eat them.

The young man sped off into town and Stone went into Rayla and told her about the ‘sport’ going on in their town.

“How horrible,” the pretty redhead said. “Can’t you do something?”

“Yes, I will. I’m going there tonight and hopefully rescue those dogs. They are pretty vicious if they are fighting dogs, so we will keep them in the other house until they are tamed a bit. Can you do something to make eight spots where we can keep them. Even a closet will be okay. Hopefully we can tame them a bit fairly quickly.”

“At a quarter to nine, when the fights apparently started, Keeper and Stone headed to the other side of town. They got to Miller’s mansion and saw there was a chain on the gate to the side yard, where yelling and shouting could be heard. Stone worried that the fighting had started. He drew Pate from her sheath and noticed that he didn’t going into battle mode. Apparently, there was no danger here. He flicked his wrist and suddenly the chain was in pieces, and he pushed the door open.

Apparently, the shouting was people putting down bets. Two big and rough-looking men stood at opposite corners of a fenced in ring, holding their dogs back by the collar as the animals strained to get to their opponent in the other corner. Men were assessing the dogs to determine which would be the one to bet on.

Stone leapt down into the ring with Pate out. Keeper stood outside the ring and flung a slab of meat in front of each dog. The keepers were outraged. They had starved their animals for days to have them mean and hungry and now they were attacking the steaks.

One keeper tried to get the meat from his animal and nearly lost his hand as the dog had trouble distinguishing between cow meat and human flesh. The other man came at Stone swinging his leash, which had a chain on the end, in circles.

Pate cut the chain in two on the first pass, and then the rope on the second time it flew around. The man’s eyes went wide as he realized he was charging at a giant with only an 18-inch piece of rope. He tried to stop, but was nearly on Stone when Pate knickered again, and suddenly the man’s head separated from his body.

The other man, with the bleeding hand, backed off. The dogs happily tore into their steaks. The crowd, which had been ready to storm the ring also quieted when the two pieces of the dog handler rolled on the sand of the pit.

One man continued forward. It was Miller, owner of the dog pit. He was armed with a sword in one hand and a long knife in the other. He raised the sword and Stone dropped into battle mode. One swing from Pate sliced through the sword. The next swing disarmed the knife, and by disarmed it means that Pate sliced through the man’s arm, cutting it near the shoulder, so arm and knife flopped to the sand. Miller, naturally, screamed. Four men came into the pit carrying truncheons. One attacked and died when Pate split through his torso. The other three were wiser, and backed away, although one flung his weapon at Pate, who sliced off the last four inches and then swatted that fragment back at the man, hitting him on the head and knocking him unconscious.

The other two were pretty sure they didn’t work for Miller anymore and turned and ran into the crowd of men trying to get through the gate to the street at the same time. They used their truncheons to knock spectators out of the way to get out quicker.

The dog pit was silent, other than the moans of Miller as he bled out, and the two dogs finished their steaks and were now chewing on the carcass of the dead dog handler. Stone came out of battle mode and looked at the other handler, trying to wrap his mangled hand in his shirt: “The other dogs? Where are they?”

The man pointed to the west with his good hand. Stone pushed the fence in that direction, knocking it to the ground under his huge feet. He strode towards the sound of growling. There were six rooms containing dogs and handlers. One more man died to Pate’s great pleasure, and in another the man set his dog, a great mastiff, loose at Stone. Pate hit the dog with the flat of her blade, and flung the animal into the wall, knocking it stunned.

Keeper had followed Stone and flung a steak into each room where the hungry dogs ravenously attacked the meat.

When they got back to the pit, they found Miller was gone, either limping off to a healer or helped by a servant. The two dogs from the first fight were still gnawing joyously at the body of the man, and no longer seemed so vicious. Stone grabbed the leash of one, and Keeper, still not going into the pit, flung him another leash for the dog whose leash had been used as a weapon.

The two men then brought all the dogs out. Now that they were fed, they were much tamer, although Pate had to be used to slap some occasionally with a flat blade to separate them when they got out of hand.

The big mastiff was put on a cart, and Keeper managed to wheel him out to the road as Stone brought the other seven on leashes. The mastiff woke groggily halfway home, but there was a steak laying near its head, and it started to slowly eat the meat.

At the house the dogs were locked into their rooms and closets and left with water and some of Steel and Daisy’s food in bowls. The family all gathered round and looked at the animals. For some reason Sissy decided that the mastiff was her personal pet, and to Rayla’s alarmed surprise she nestled in next to him. Still hurting, the dog didn’t attack the girl, but snuggled up to her and spent the night sleeping with her.

In the morning the mastiff was clearly Sissy’s pet. It was nearly large enough for her to ride, but she hugged it and it wagged its great tail in pleasure. The other dogs took longer to tame, but after Keeper came around each morning to feed and water them, they became calmer and calmer. He took them each out on a leash for a walk twice a day, individually, and soon they were quite tame for him. Emily remained frightened of the once wild beasts, and said she already had a dog: Daisy. And while the other dogs soon warmed up to Stone, the mastiff never did seem to forgive him for using Pate on him and would growl when Stone came close.

The next day the captain of the guard came by and said he had to arrest Stone. Stone looked behind the man and asked: “Where is your army?” The captain got the message and left returning two hours later, with all 12 of the guard.

“Are you all ready to die,” Stone asked threateningly.

“Not at all,” the captain said. “We were all fired by the mayor for not bringing you in. We wonder if you wanted to hire some guards. With no proper town watch, there is going to be trouble, and everyone in town knows where you keep your gold. We thought you might like to keep it safe.”

Stone, who had been worried that he might have to fight and kill some of the men he had fought with several times, from Sarn to Greenstone, relaxed. “You are all hired until the town council regains its sanity. Same pay but fewer drunks to fend off.”

The disaster didn’t happen for three days. But on Tuesday, the town roughs realized there was no effective guard. The mayor had appointed four men as replacement guards, at a lower pay than the old guard had earned (and were earning working for Stone). In fact, in the ensuing troubles the four guards became instigators, rather than trying to quell the problems.

Tuesday saw some scuffles in the street, and a few of the businesses in the downtown suffered broken windows and minor looting. Wednesday was when the real trouble occurred. At midnight almost 100 of the whites rioted and vandalized the downtown strip between the shipyard and Teller’s Jewelers, where Stone stored his gold, and stationed his men.

The new guard, who felt they had the legal right to do whatever they wanted, approached the jewelry store and ordered Stone and his men to vacate since the rioters wanted to break into the store and get jewels and gold. The big man refused and drew his sword. Twenty men charged him, and Pate was drawn. Two of the new guard were dead and dismembered in seconds, along with five of the rioters who made the mistake of running too fast. The others stopped and backed up and lived, since Stone didn’t chase them away. Instead they ran back to the places with easier pickings, including the bars, where barrels were broken open fueling the rioters.

By 3 a.m. the entire business district was on fire with several merchants killed or beaten trying to protect their stocks. The white business district. The Kithren stores were past Teller’s, and Stone and his men had stopped the men short of that area, leaving it unscathed. And the shipyard workers stopped the riot at the other end of the street, defending their employer’s yard from the ruffians.

The next morning the town council met, and Stone finally appeared. Three members of council were absent, dead or injured in the riot, and the others were terrified. Stone told them that he would have his guards protect the rest of the town, since there were rumors that the rioters planned to attack the mansions next. He also noted that the men he had employed in the pine grove for the past year had a huge stockpile of wood that he would sell at the going rate, in spite of the suddenly increased demand. He would also offer credit terms to merchants willing and able to rebuild.

In return he insisted that animal baiting and other forms of cruelty be banned in the future, and the law be made retroactive to before his attack on the dog fights the week before thus making his attack legal. He also suggested a week-long curfew to prevent another riotous group from forming up.

The mayor was not pleased at the man dictating terms like this, but the other councilors were not happy with him, since he had fired the guard and hired the replacements. Eventually all the council voted to approve Stone’s plan, and the big man left to give his guard the good news, along with a healthy bonus for their work in containing the rioters.

That night over 40 men were rounded up by the replaced guard under the curfew rules and no major rioting happened. The next day those 40 were made to clean up the destruction of the prior night. Several merchants took up Stone’s offer of wood and buildings were repaired or rebuilt.

A nice side benefit of the riots was that the undamaged Kithren shops did a booming business while their white compatriots were out of business. People who had never entered the Kithren side of town found the black merchants were as good, or better, than the ones they had shopped in before. Many of the Kithren stores grew and kept their new clients even after the main downtown was rebuilt.

Another chapter. (For those of you waiting for Ch. 2 of Sunny: The Hippie Chick, it will be posted later today): Dawn

Chapter 57 – Back at Sea

The voyage to LakePort went smoothly, with no problems from the repaired ship. It was on the return voyage that things started to go to hell. Jason woke at about 6 p.m. to hear yelling and shouting from the galley. Kookla came out in tears, with the cook following him, berating him wildly.

“It’s all ruined,” the cook yelled. “All of it. This lout washed his dishes in the good water. It’s all soapy and greasy and unfit for drinking and cooking.”

The captain came to the deck rail and tried to get to the bottom of the commotion. Apparently, the water barrels were switched because the main barrel was empty. Thus, the washing up barrel had been moved to the back of the kitchen while the empty barrel was being taken to the hold. At this time Jason took the dishes from the captain’s mess to be washed, and mistakenly used the new water barrel. As he was finishing up, men of the ship who had finished their meals came in, and dropped their tin plates and mugs into that same barrel. Finally, the washup crew dumped soap into the water, polluting it completely. That was when the cook discovered the error and started ranting.

“Report, cook,” the captain ordered. “We are less than a week to WestPort. Surely we can go without drinking water until then.”

“Drinking is not the problem, captain,” the man replied. “We still have the grog supply, so we will have that to moisten our mouths. The problem is that I need water to cook the meals with. The oatmeal and the taters need water to boil in, along with a lot of other stuff. We have biscuits, but without water to wash them down they will be hard to eat.”

The Captain looked at his son. “Cabin boy, your error is serious. On account of your age I will only order five lashes. That will cost you more than 10 for a grown man. And they are to be full lashes, not those soft ‘Jason lashes’.”

Jason was horrified to hear the captain order lashes on his own sun. The boy’s soft skin would be sure to scab for the rest of his life, as well as putting him into sick bay for the rest of the trip, and perhaps the next one. He had to do something.

“Sir,” he shouted. “Permission to speak?”

“Granted.”

“Kookla is under my command, correct? I originally taught him his position.”

“I’m not sure that is right. You were later promoted to mate. And the cabin boy position is not part of your shift.”

“Nor any of the other ones,” Jason pointed out. “As his superior I claim that the boy was not in error, but not trained correctly. Therefore, I accept his punishment on myself for my failure to instruct him properly.”

“No!” screamed Kookla.

“I’m not sure you are right,” the captain said. “But you have studied sea law more than I have so I will accept your request.”

So Jason was again roped to the foremast with his back bared. This time the lashes were not gentle, but bit into his back. Kookla cried out more than Jason did on each of the strokes. Between the pain of the third and fourth lashes Jason had an idea. After the fifth lash his men undid the ropes on his hands, and he slumped to the deck. Normally water would be splashed on his whipped back. But there was no water. And there was no blood, although ugly red welts were rising on his otherwise clear skin. This made Jason think the lashes might have only been half as strong as normal.

He struggled to his feet and turned to the captain: “Sir. I have an idea. Are there not water barrels in the lifeboats?” The captain turned to the cook.

“They aren’t barrels, but small casks. Enough for a few days of water for a crew of 10. But if we used all four casks, then we would have enough water for cooking, and a cup of water a day.

“Do it,” said the captain. Jason limped off to Kalosun and the sick bay while a sobbing Kookla followed, unashamed at crying on deck in front of his father and apologizing to Jason. In the sick bay Kalosun inspected the welts and then gently spread on a salve. “This will ease the pain and help healing, and in a few months, you will never know you were whipped,” the healer said. “I don’t think they were lashing you with full strength, only enough to make it seem so. Everyone on board seems to admire you Jason. I am proud of you.”

The salve seemed to work. By midnight Jason was able to work, with only the smallest twinge when he moved in a certain way. Two days later he was able to climb up to the crow’s-nest of the mainmast, where he still made regular visits with the old sailor on watch. About half an hour in, while relating a story about his whaling days, the man stopped abruptly and pointed,

“Thar’s a whaler out thar,” he pointed to the west. “’E’s chasin’ a big un this way.” Jason watched as the whale ship headed towards them, with three boats in front being rowed. By the time they got close enough to actually see the men in the boats, the harpooners had stood up, ready to throw their spears.

“I knows that whale,” the man in the nest with him said. “See them old ‘poons in ‘is hide? They makes a kinda ‘V’ shape. That whale is surely Victory John. Men ‘ve bin after her for years. She’s a mean un.”

Jason watched in amazement. All three boats threw harpoons at the same time, but the whale submerged before any reached her. For one minute, two minutes: the great beast was hidden. Then it appeared, more than halfway between the boats and the whale ship. The boats turned around, not an easy task on the ocean, and headed back to the ship. The whale was faster. A hundred yards from the ship it submerged again, but only for a few seconds. Then it leapt out of the water directly at the ship. It landed with a crash on top of the deck, flinging its huge tail left and right, knocking down two of the masts and most of the forecastle. Then it slithered off the deck and back into the water. Seconds later it could be seen swimming away to the north.

The ship was in ruins. It was clear that the side the whale had hit was nearly destroyed, with water gushing in. The crew on the ship was letting down a lifeboat from the forecastle. Another smaller group of men ran to a boat on the prow: they were unable to climb the destroyed stairs to the forecastle. Both boats were lowered into the water and managed to row a few yards away before the whale ship sank with a sucking noise as water rushed in.

The Sun Goddess had already turned and headed towards the vessel in distress. It reached the whale boats first. Each had eight men rowing, and the harpoon man, all Kithrens. Each boat also had a white man on the tiller. One at a time the men on the boats were rescued. The tiller man and harpooners were able to climb up ropes thrown down. The rowers had to wait for three ladders to be thrown over the side. Their arms were too tired from rowing to pull themselves up on ropes.

The last two boats were rescued at the same time. The one from the stern had five white men aboard, including the captain. The fore crew was four men, also white.

The whaler captain looked around the Sun Goddess, surprised to see only Kithrens. He immediately decided that the ship was captainless. After all, who had heard of a Kithren captain? So he decided to take charge.

“Change heading to the north,” he yelled at the steersman. “We can still catch that bugger. You lot, bring the whale boats on board. We’re going to need them.”

“As you were,” Captain Keenstone called out to his confused crew.

“Who are you?” the white captain called out at the man countermanding his orders.

“I am the captain of this ship,” the captain said. “I’ll thank you to not shout out orders that confuse my men. They answer only to me and my mates.”

“Ridiculous. Men, take that imposter down and lock him in the brig. No Kithren is a captain.”

The other 11 white men started towards the stairway to the forecastle as the white captain looked on smugly. Then he noticed that the rescued Kithren sailors were not joining in. “You lot too,” he shouted, but those men just stood and watch.

Meanwhile, the crew on the forecastle had picked up belaying pins and were picking off the men trying to climb the stairs. Soon men from the deck had also armed themselves and went after the other whites waiting for a chance to climb the ladder. The whites had been rescued with nothing but their clothes, so the battle was short and in two minutes five white sailors lay on the deck, unconscious, and the other six had their hands up in surrender.

“This is mutiny,” the white captain shouted, seconds before a Kithren sailor: one of the rescued men, slapped him across the back of the head with a belaying pin he had picked up, knocking him unconscious. The sailor dropped his pin and spoke: “No. That is mutiny.”

Captain Keenstone spoke next: “Our brig won’t hold more than four, maybe five men. Take the ship’s officers there, and the rest to the owner’s cabin. That door can’t be locked from the outside, so I want four men stationed outside at all times, with knives and belaying pins.

The sailors from the whaler quickly pointed out the ship’s officers, who were hauled down to the brig, with the exception of the unconscious captain who Kalosun felt needed to be taken to the sick bay. Keenstone ordered three guards to accompany him, even though he was no danger at the moment.

“Have you rescued men eaten lately?” the Captain called out.

“No. Not for three days,” a man called out. “That bastard won’t feed us if we lose a whale, and we haven’t been lucky lately.”

“Cooks. Make a batch of porridge for these men. A double batch for these 27 and a single for the others. Throw in a bit of bacon. A cup of water for each. I am sorry men, but we are short of water at the moment. Maybe grog?”

“Captain,” one of the cooks called out. “There is only enough grog for our men. We only make up a certain amount and it won’t handle so many.”

“Okay then. Grog only for the crew. And perhaps one for the sailor who bested his captain. Have food taken to those guards in sick bay.”

The rescued Kithrens immediately started helping out the crew, which was larger than necessary already. But they scrubbed the decks by hand and polished just about every railing and piece of wood on board.

The Sun Goddess docked at WestPort two days later, and Stone was surprised to see so many men he didn’t recognize leave the ship. Nevertheless, he handed a bonus silver to each man, including those rescued. Their ship owner would probably not pay his men for their trip, having suffered the loss of an expensive ship.

The last off were the white men, who did not get a silver. The captain, who had recovered consciousness while the ship was in sight of the port, indignantly berated Stone about the ‘mutiny’ and how poorly he had been treated. Finally Stone had enough, and reached back to grab Pate from her sheath.

“One more word from you and you will watch your head separate from your body,” the big man warned. “Go and explain to your master why you didn’t bring his ship back to port. I suspect that won’t be friendly meeting.”

The captain shut up at that point and scurried away in shame. Being bested by Kithrens was the worst thing he could imagine.

Stone went down to the pay table, where Jason was last in line. Rayla hugged her son, and then let go when he winced in pain from the pressure on his wounds. He had to take off his shirt then and there to show his mother his back, which now had five red welts that were only half healed. Rayla cursed and asked who was responsible.

“I guess that would be me,” Jason said. “I took the blows for another who would not have borne them as well as I could.” With that the family headed back to their house.

A little bit of a cliff hanger on this one. I know how much you all like those. Hopefully the next chapter will appear on Saturday: Dawn

Stone 58 – The voyage

Jason sailed again two days later and made five more trips before the Moon Goddess was ready. Then the two ships sailed, one voyage in convoy to break in the new vessel, and then leaving on alternate weeks. This continued for two months, until Stone, or more properly Rayla was ready to make the voyage across the ocean.

Eventually she was ready. She would have been fine not knowing about the three towers of power, or how they had all come to this world. But she knew that Stone had a deep desire to learn the truth and the only way seemed to be making the year-long ocean voyage.

Stone had built his second ship mainly to maintain ocean service between the ports while the Sun Goddess was away for so long. During the time that there were two ships on the run, neither was full on a trip, but it seemed that when the Sun Goddess was gone the Moon Goddess would become lucrative. When the ship was finally laden with provisions for the long trip, Stone had a wagon load of gold put into the lower holds in a location only Jason and he was aware of.

The owner’s cabins had to be renovated. Usually these had been used for passengers wanting to make the sea voyage, and once it had been used as a jail. On trips with no passengers, the rooms had been used for additional cargo space. Now they were renovated with Rayla choosing the designs for the cabins that she and Stone would share, and Emily, now 11, picking the décor for the cabin she would share with Sissy. Jason would continue to room with the other mates.

The crew was young, mostly single men who had no steady girlfriend. Stone had announced that the bonus for a successful trip would be two gold … a fortune to a sailor. The captain was married, with his wife and four remaining children collecting a sizeable draw from the jewelers as long as it took for the ship to return, and for life if it didn’t as many people in town were suspecting.

There was a two-week period stocking the ship, including Doug, who was quite upset that the 12 mares he requested were not loaded. Instead there were 18 sheep and a ram to provide a steady meat source. Forty chickens were on board to provide a supply of eggs for the family and the crew. There were barrels of potable water, flour, even whale oil. The hold containing the animals would have to be lit during the day to keep the animals healthy. Three barrels contained nothing but limes. Stone did not want the ocean disease to strike, having determined that it was nothing but scurvy. After a week or two at sea the limes would be broken out and each seaman would get a quarter of a fruit each day. Stone announced that anyone refusing to suck their lime would not get their daily grog. Boxes of vegetables were also loaded as well as bags of dried beans and rice.

In all there were supplies for the two years of the voyage there and back. It was uncertain how long they would spend in the southern continent, but Stone hoped that they would be able to get fresh food while they were there.

Finally, it was the day to set sail. Emily had dozens of her friends at the dock, waving her goodbye. Jason noted that there were more than a few boys in the group. That was to be natural, as the girl was considered one of the beauties of the town, with her flawless chock-colored skin.

Emily and Sissy were enthralled by the ship and the voyage for several hours. Then Emily remembered the wagon trips she had taken as a child. Exciting at first, followed by a monotonous boredom of the same thing, hour after hour. At least on the wagons there was some variation when it came time to make camp at meals. But on the ship the flapping of the sails never stopped. Kookla brought them food three times a day, and they ate in the cabins. The food was tasty, but nothing like the meals that Cass used to make them. But Cass and Keeper were back in WestPort, Cass keeping the house, and Keeper acting as local agent for both the wagon trains and The Moon Goddess.

Stone was not bored like the girls. He had sailed on one of the shakedown trips for the ship, but after listening to Jason explain things when the boy was ashore, he knew he had much to learn about sailing. The first thing he learned was that his son was no longer a boy. He was a man and a leader, and his men listened to him. Stone stayed up past midnight the first evening to see Jason on duty and was surprised to hear the boy call out: “Colonel Stone! What is 342 and 219?”

Stone had heard the boy calling out math questions to his men, to keep them sharp through the night, but hadn’t expected to be quizzed. But most of them had gotten one- and two-digit numbers to add. Stone had to think a bit and calculate. “561,” he finally announced.

“That is right,” Jason called out. “Explain how you arrived at that number.”

“Well,” the big man said. You start at the right. The 2 and the 9 makes 11. You use the 1 and carry the 10 to the second column as a 1. In the second column you have 4, 1, and the 1 you carried, so 6 with nothing carried. The final column is 3 and 2 so 5. Thus 561.”

“Perfect,” Jason shouted. “You other men pay attention. You learn your numbers as well as the Colonel and one day you might be a rich shipowner too.”

Stone went to his cabin soon after. Rayla was asleep but woke up when the heavy weight dropped onto the bed.

“Our son is something special,” Stone whispered to her as he put his arms lovingly around her waist. “He is in full command of the ship right now, and the men love him and obey him, even at age 14. He knows the sea and it is his life. We were wrong to try and keep him from it at first.”

“Yes,” she replied. “But I was so worried about losing him.”

“Are you worried now?”

“No. Now if the ship goes down, we all go together. But I don’t worry about that. I trust you and I trust Jason. The two of you will keep me safe.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Two weeks later Rayla was at the rail of the ship when an off-duty Jason came next to her: “Are you bored mother?”

“No. Yes, a bit,” she said. “It is taking so long.”

“Well we only have 351 more days to the other side,” the boy said. “I’ll admit to being a bit bored myself. My longest trip in the past was three weeks, and most were less than two. There might be some excitement today. Father has ordered that the men start taking limes tonight. It will be interesting how the men take to them. They are pretty tart tasting.”

The family members had all taken limes the night before. Emily spit hers out at first, but finally agreed to suck it. Sissy actually liked it. Not so much for the taste as that she could leave the slice in her mouth between her lips and teeth, creating a green smile shape. Some of the men on the deck had seen her and realized that if a mentally-deficient girl could take it, then grown men should be able to.”

As well, the word of the new rule went out. Lime were handed out at lunch or supper, and the seaman had to return the completely sucked rind to the cook in order to get their ration of grog.

The result was dozens of men miming Sissy and holding the lime peel in their mouth as they worked, making the crew look humorously odd. But in the next few weeks no one showed any signs of the sea disease, and men started to realize that the limes were helpful.

One morning soon after Jason was ending his shift at 8 a.m. when he saw his mother and sisters watching the sunrise in the east. “Pretty, pretty,” Sissy said, causing Jason to look. It was the pretty red sunrise that indicated that there was a hurricane coming.

“Pretty, but dangerous,” the boy said before heading off to alert the captain.

Keenstone stared at the ominous sunrise. “Damn,” he said under his breath. He told the first mate to call all the men to storm watch. Then he turned to Jason: “Hopefully this will be better than last time. I’d hate to have to go back to port for repairs. Jason, I want you to cover the watch at midnight. I’ll command until then but will need to get a few hours of sleep before then. I want you to try and get a few hours yourself. I know it will be hard but try.”

Jason then went back to his family and explained the dangers that came with the pretty sunrise. The waves were already getting stronger and the captain had already furled sails on two of the masts. It was better to cut sails when the men were still able to get into the rigging. The winds were already picking up.

“What should I do?” Stone asked.

“Keep the family safe in the cabin,” Jason said. “I’ll try to bring lunch to you. There probably won’t be any supper, or breakfast tomorrow. I’ll bring biscuits you can munch on to keep the hunger down. I don’t want any of you out on deck other than an emergency.” He turned to his father: “If you have to come out, don’t walk freely on the decks. Always hold onto the ropes that will be set up. It is too easy for a rogue wave to knock you overboard, even someone as big as you.”

The storm worsened during the day. This time the hatches were battened well before the rains and high waves came, so there was no pumping duty to undertake. Jason sent Kookla into the cabins ‘to protect the ladies’ and took over the limited cabin boy duties himself. The captain and the mates ate at their posts, but the cook did make a lunch for Stone and family in the cabins. After serving the meal, including a sack of ship’s biscuits, Jason tried to sleep for a few hours, but was unable to do much more than doze with the storm increasing around him. He finally gave up, and went back on duty, directing the men in various tasks, and even going into the rigging. It was he who had the men in the crow’s-nests come down: it was too dark from the storm to see much anyway.

He relieved the captain at midnight, and Keenstone also went below to get a few hours of fitful sleep as the storm raged around them. Jason was still not strong enough to man the tiller, but he kept the helmsman alert and on course, cutting the ship into waves rather than taking them broadsides. Even so at least once a minute a wave would crash over the decks from behind, with some even topping the aft castle.

About 4 a.m., in the pitch dark, Keenstone gave up on trying to sleep, and returned to the tiller position, taking over from Jason, who remained nearby. The storm raged on, and several times Jason and the others on the aft had to hold onto ropes to avoid being swept away. Few men were on deck, and none in the rigging. All day the men had prepared for the storm, and most men went below to try and rest in the wildly swinging hammocks.

It was going to be a dark sunrise, with the storm surrounding and tossing the ship about. There were occasional bursts of lightning that showed nothing but the angry sea around them. Then, around 6 a.m. there was a flash of lightning while both Jason and Keenstone were staring ahead. The momentary light showed something huge, dark and ominous directly in front of them, and they were about to crash into it.

I meant to have this posted on Saturday, but the chapter pretty much flew off the keyboard and I thought there was no reason to hold it. Especially when there had been a cliff hanger: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 59 – The Tree House

When the flash of lightning showed the cliff in their path Jason reacted before the captain. “Hard starboard”, he shouted, and then jumped back to unfasten the rope holding the wheel steady. He then helped the big sailor on the wheel to pull the ship towards the right, which would hopefully avoid the rocks. Jason as still too small to steer on his own, but the muscle he bad put on over the last year meant he was able to help the helmsman.

It was dark, and impossible to see the cliff any longer. Suddenly a great wave lifted the boat up even as it was trying to turn. Jason had visions of the ship smashing into the cliff, with the entire vessel breaking apart and all hands being lost in the hurricane. But instead there was a strange sensation of the ship landing. Suddenly there was no forward motion. The wind was still raging, and the rain coming down like buckets. The captain and Jason both heard the creaks of strain on the two masts bearing top sails.

“Where is the crew?” Jason asked.

“In quarters,” the captain said. “They had to be off the deck during the storm.”

“We need to get those sails down,” Jason said. “They will snap the masts in these winds.”

“It is too dangerous,” the captain said.

“As dangerous as losing two masts two months out to sea? I’ll get some men.”

Jason left the cabin and headed below decks, carefully going hand over hand with the ropes set up as the wind tried to blow him overboard. He finally got below decks and looked around. Most men were in hammocks, sometimes two or three huddled together in fear, since there were not enough hammocks for all three shifts at once. There was only one whale oil lamp giving limited visibility to the men.

“What the hell,” Jason shouted at the cowering men. “Are you Kithrens? Or perhaps you are like Captain Snow, ready to abandon a perfectly good ship in a hurricane. I need three men to go aloft and bring down the topsails. I’ll not assign men to such a dangerous task. But there are other things to do instead of cowering in your beds like frightened little girls.”

The sounding off from Jason gave the men courage. Here was Jason, barely out of boyhood, telling them off. One man shouted out “I’ll go up.” Two more also got out of their hammocks, then four more. Jason pointed out three who were strongest, and most adept aloft. “You two go to the main mast, and we will go up the foremast. Take down the topsails if you can, loosen then if you can’t.”

The men soon realized that Jason intended to go up with them. He was probably the most agile man aloft, although his mate’s duties kept him on deck most of the time now. But he didn’t have the strength of the others. For him climbing the masts in a storm was an act of bravery.

By now almost every sailor was on foot, holding on to whatever was near as the ship rocked. But the rocking was far less than it had been. Jason pointed to three. “You men go to the captain. You are mates or masters … act the part.” Seven common seamen were sent into the lower hold to tend to the animals, which had been ignored for more than 24 hours. Two men were sent to the bilge hold, to make sure the ship was not taking water. The cook was told to take men to the galley and start making food. No one had eaten all day. The others were told to stand by.

The entire crew was revitalized as they went about their tasks. Jason had inspired them and made them feel less doomed. He was in charge, and when Jason was in charge good things happened, not bad.

Jason led his crew out to the masts. Two went off to the mainmast and Jason and a great bear of a man headed up the foresail on slippery lines. Halfway up there was a creaking noise and Jason realized that if the mast snapped while they were on it, it would all be over. Seconds later Jason’s foot slipped as he was climbing, and a gust of wind blew his legs away from the rope. At the time he had one hand free to reach higher, meaning that he was hanging on by one hand.

Then he felt a beefy hand grab his arm and pull him back to the line. It was his partner and the quick help allowed Jason to get his feet around the rope again and continue up. Soon they were at the point where they could see the line holding the bottom of the sail in place. Realizing that they would never be able to bring the sail in, Jason grabbed his knife and cut the line, allowing one corner of the sail to go loose. He then reached over his partner and cut another line.

The sail blew loose. It snapped in the wind, and they could feel the pressure on the mast slacken immediately. With their mission accomplished the pair descended much faster than they had climbed. The other pair were still climbing, and when they heard the fore-top snapping, realized that they should also just cut the ropes on the main-top. Seconds later the second sail was snapping like the first.

Soon Jason felt his feet on the deck and sagged. His partner grabbed him, wrapping him in a muscular embrace that kept him on his feet.

“Thanks,” Jason said a minute later when he could finally speak. “My arms are like jelly, and my legs are not much better.”

The other pair came over. “We saw you had cut your sail free,” one of them noted. “So we decided to do the same. It was scary up there.”

“We have replacement sails,” Jason said. “We don’t have replacement masts. Hopefully removing the pressure will keep them up. Let’s go below decks. I’m wetter than I want to be after all that.”

But Jason didn’t stay in the berths for long. He headed lower down and found his men cleaning the stable area. They reported that they had watered all the animals and fed most of them. They were cleaning the goat stalls but were afraid of Doug. They had watered him but were afraid to feed him and clear the filth in his box. Jason went to the box and opened the door, which was left unlocked on Stone’s order. The horse had a wild look in his eyes but eased at seeing Jason and calmed even more when the young man put his hand on the Doug’s shoulder.

“I’ll send Dad down in a few minutes,” he murmured, pulling out a sack of oats and putting it in the feedbag. Doug ate hungrily as Jason cleaned up the box, pushing the filth out into an area where the other sailors felt safe in gathering it with the debris from the goat stalls.

“Where do we put all this?” one of the sailors asked, referring to the pile of manure.

“Just pile it over there,” Jason said. “We can wheel it out later, once the wind and waves go down.”

Jason headed back to the deck and headed to the owner’s cabin. Just before he got there, he heard the sound of something smashing to the deck. He looked, making sure that it was not a human head. It was about the right size, as it rolled towards his feet. Picking it up he saw that it was the size of an over-sized cannon ball, but much lighter. And there were no cannons on the Sun Goddess. It had a hairy texture, so he carried it into the cabin.

Jason was attacked into a hug by four: his mother, both sisters, and even little Kookla. Only Stone held back. “You have to go see Doug,” Jason said. “And do you know what this is?”

“I do,” Stone said taking the sphere from his son. “It is a coconut. I don’t know how it got onto the ship though. I have heard of them floating from an island. This one might be ripe. They have both food and a milk within.” He handed the nut back to Jason and headed out, with his son shouting a parting warning to use the guide ropes.

“I’m hungry,” Sissy said. “Them buns was too dry.”

Jason sat at the table and took his knife, which seemed to know what to do. It made a small hole in the top of the hard shell. Jason could smell something inside and tipped the nut to get a small sip of the coconut milk. Once he was satisfied it was safe, he handed the gourd to Sissy and she took a long sip.

“That’s good,” she announced, handing the cut to Emily, who took a long sip and passed it on to her mother. Kookla finally had a drink and passed the nut back to Jason who thought it was now empty. But his knife hummed a message and he attacked the shell again, cutting it into halves.

That was when they realized there was a white food inside. The knife cut out chunks of the white stuff and soon everyone was enjoying eating it. It was chewy and moist, so no water was needed to eat it.

“There will be some more real food soon,” Jason said. “Probably just oatmeal. I was down checking the chickens, and they didn’t lay during the storm. Maybe eggs for tomorrow.” He turned to Kookla: “Report: have you been keeping the family safe?”

The little boy saluted. “Kinda. I was scared though. All of us were scared.”

“I was scared too,” Jason said. “We nearly hit a cliff and I really don’t know where we are now.” Kookla stared at the young mate, as if he couldn’t believe his hero could ever be scared.

Jason left. The deck was no longer being tossed about in the waves, but he couldn’t believe that it had smashed on a beach without them feeling the collision. Outside he felt that the wind was abating, but only a bit. Looking east he could see a dull sunrise feeding just enough light under the hurricane clouds to be able to see dimly in the early morning. He turned to the sea and saw an odd shape. It was a tree, with more of the coconuts at the base, and huge, broad leaves spouting out from them.

He looked down over the rail and saw that it was nearly 100 feet to the ground. He worked his way to the front port corner of the ship and found another tree. Then he crossed at the forecastle and found a third tree, larger than the others. Finally, he worked his way along the ropes back to the aft-castle and discovered a fourth tree the size of the first one. He picked up another coconut that was rolling on the deck and then went into the captain’s cabin, where he found Keenstone with the three men Jason had sent up from the berths. During the walk Jason had worked out what happened.

“One of the men reported that you cut loose the sails,” the captain said. You could still hear the loose sails snapping in the wind. “What other news?”

“I think I know what happened,” Jason said. “We are on a beach. But we are wedged between four coconut trees. That’s why this ship is not being tossed, and few waves are coming over the deck. We will have to wait till the hurricane abates to see exactly what happened, and what to do. Look at this!” He held out the coconut and brought out his knife. The captain drank deeply of the milk: he hadn’t had food or water during the time he was on duty. Then Jason cut the nut in halves, and fed the captain, who hungrily ate the meat.

“That is good stuff,” Keenstone said. “What is it called?”

“Father says it is coconut. There are some more on all the four trees, not to mention a lot of them rolling about on the deck.”

“Look,” the first mate shouted. It had become light enough that the men in the cabin could make out the cliff which ended about 30 feet to the port side of the ship. “Thank God we didn’t hit that.”

“No,” the captain announced. “Thank Jason we didn’t hit it. We were headed straight for it and he got the steersman to angle away from it. I don’t think he was aiming for these trees though. Hitting the beach would have been nearly as bad as hitting the cliff.”

Chapter 60 – On the Island

Jason woke and heard – nothing. No rain. No wind. No flapping of sails. The deck was steady, without the normal roll of the sea. Captain Keenstone had taken four hours of sleep after they landed in the trees, and the storm had slowly abated during that time. When he came back on deck he sent Jason below to sleep, and in the next six hours the storm had ended, although looking out at the sea, the waves were still high.

When Jason got on deck, he saw about a half dozen sailors tidying up the ship, gathering the coconuts and stacking them as though they were cannon balls, and picking up the great fan-like leaves of the tree and piling them in one spot on the deck. Jason headed for the afterdeck, but as he passed the galley his nose lured him aside. Inside the cook was making a meal for lunch. It was a hearty stew. The cook said one of the goats had died of fear during the storm and was providing the meat. Jason wolfed down a quick meal. The vegetables were a bit undercooked, but edible, and he filled his belly in minutes. He wiped his mouth roughly as he headed up to report to the captain.

“Storm is over,” Keenstone said. “Your father says the coconuts are valuable as food, and the leaves can be used as a building material. I’ve replaced the sails you fellows cut free, but they are now furled so they don’t blow us off these trees. One sail was tattered to shreds by the storm. The other is ruined, but still contains some good cloth.”

“Perhaps you can turn it over to Sissy, the older girl with Rayla,” Jason suggested. “She is pretty handy with a needle and thread and might be able to make something of it. So has anyone gone over the side yet?”

“I sent the carpenter and three of his men down about an hour ago,” Keenstone said. “I’m hoping they will figure out a way to get this thing down and back into the water. If we were beached it would be no problem. But stuck up in the air like this. I don’t know.”

“With your permission I’ll go down and join them,” Jason asked. The captain merely nodded, and Jason went to the railing where several lines hung down. More than a half dozen off sailors were staring out from the unusual elevated position in the air. Jason went over the edge and used a sailor’s hand-over-hand climb down the 50 or so feet. Once on the sandy beach he went over to the carpenter.

“What do you think?” the youth asked.

“’tis got me baffled,” the carpenter said. “Damn ship is wedged in between them four trees like God hisself dropped it there. Dunno how we’s gonna free it. Cut one tree and the damn thin’ will fall, and from that height it’s sure ter smash worsen I kin fix it.”

Jason stared at the tree and also was bereft of ideas. “Well, one thing we need to do is get the crew and cargo down. That’ll lessen the weight on the trees and prevent it from smashing down on its own. Can I borrow a couple of your men to explore around for a bit?”

“Take ‘em all. They aint doin’ me no good.”

Jason and the four sailors left the ship, going inland into the copse of palm trees. They steadily climbed on what seemed to be a path, and soon came to some caves in the side of the hill. Jason made a bundle of dried palm leaves and lit it with his flint, making a small torch. The four went into the first cave and saw it was large and fairly spacious. There was an old fire pit there, but it didn’t seem to have been used for years.

Another bigger cave was nearby. It looked big enough to hold all the cargo in the hold of the ship. A third cave, much smaller than the first, was further along. It also had a long-unused fire pit. There was a small, sweet spring on the other side of a clearing across from the caves.

“We’ve seen enough,” Jason said as the torch was sputtering out in his hand. He threw it to the ground and stamped it out. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause a forest fire on the island.

He headed back to the carpenter, who still had no ideas. “There are a lot of good tall trees on this part of the island,” he pointed out.

“You plannin’ on makin’ a raft?” the carpenter said.

“No. We are too far to raft back to land,” Jason said. “Even without a hurricane those waves would swamp anything within a day, and we are two months out under sail. Drifting on a raft back might take a year. What I was thinking was that we could build up some kind of scaffolding and bring the ship down that way.”

“Better idea than anyt’ing I got,” the carpenter said. “I’ll see if I kin work anyt’ing out.”

Jason climbed up the rope. He was still short, but his arms were now strong and wiry, and he was able to climb the rope in minutes and was soon back with the captain. Stone was with him.

“The ship is not going to be easy to get down,” the youth explained. “But there are some caves nearby. We should be able to store most of the cargo in one and put the men in the other. There’s a smaller one. That could be for the family or for Doug.”

“We have the cranes your father came up with for unloading the ship,” the captain pointed out. “Should we start moving things now?”

“After the men eat, I think,” Jason said. “I’ve eaten. Has anything been taken to the women?”

“They had an oatmeal breakfast,” Stone said. “And I think Kookla has been getting their lunch.”

Stone and the captain went down and lined up with the men to get a plate of stew. The sailors were somewhat amazed when Stone refused to cut the line and get served first. As they waited the captain explained the work for the afternoon and the next few days. It normally took men at the docks two days to unload and reload the ship, but the sailors were not used to that work and also had to cart the goods up to the cave. It would take several days at best.

After the men were fed, the cranes (there were two) were set up. The first unloading was Doug, who was a little tentative about having a wide belt around his middle and then being held in the air and swung out. Stone wanted to ride him out, to keep him calm but the combined weight of the man and horse was considered to be too great, so the big man just stood on deck and verbally encouraged the horse until he was standing on the ground where Jason unbelted him.

Stone was not so quick going down the rope, so by the time he had his feet in the sand he looked up to see the horse almost a mile away, racing down the beach, “Sorry, Dad, I tried to hold him, but without reins it is almost impossible.”

“You know Doug will never wear reins,” Stone said. “But I think he is just running for the pure joy of it all. He has been cooped up for months in that hold and I think he just wanted to let loose. He’ll be back soon. I just hope he will let me ride him when he does. He really didn’t like that hoist,”

After Doug, the cargo started coming out. Barrels were not difficult, as they could be rolled in the sand to the hard path. Boxes and crates had to be carried, since the two wheelbarrows would not work in the sand. One wheelbarrow was kept on the ship to help move things to the crane, and then it was moved down to the ground. Rayla and the girls were lowered down in a rope harness over the side of the ship when she objected to the idea of going down in the crane.

Goats were let down the same way as Doug, except that they went down four at a time. The chickens were put into crates, which were carried up to the caves, where they were set free. But Jason had Sissy toss chicken feed around the clearing in front of the smallest cave so the birds would remain in the area for the ready food. That became the girl’s regular job and she started looking at the birds as her personal mission. She also gathered their eggs daily.

Rayla and Emily gathered dried palm leaves and made beds in the smallest cave for the family, which now seemed to include Kookla. Jason slept with the men, who were so exhausted at the end of the day that they just dropped in the medium cave and slept on the hard floor, or the large cave where they flopped onto some of the cargo and spare sails.

The cook stayed on board with four helpers, and the next morning they made a breakfast that could be let down on the crane. That worked but was cumbersome, so the cook came down and set up a kitchen in the medium cave over the firepit. His men packed up his supplies and cookware and brought it to him.

After breakfast the men were back at the cranes bringing more cargo down. Jason was largely in charge, with Keenstone telling him that the captain was in charge on ship, and the youth was in charge on the ground.

The carpenter came up to Jason with bad news. “Dunno if yer idear is gonna work, lad,” he said. “Iffen we make scaffolds ter hold up the ship and cuts away th’ trees we still got to get the ship offen the scaffold, and I dunno how that’s gonna work.”

Jason was also stymied but decided that could wait. He sent the carpenter to the cook, who wanted shelves and bins built for his kitchen. It took five days, but finally the ship was cleared. Only the sick bay was kept on board, as Kalosun didn’t want to move all his medicines into a damp cave. There had been minor injuries in the unloading: things like jammed fingers or hands and bruised shins, but they were mostly treated on the ground, with Kalosun or a helper zipping up a line to get needed salves or bandages.

The men were given two days off after all their work, but Jason announced that he and a few men would spend the two days exploring the island, which everyone was assuming was Hurricane Island.

“You are not going off exploring,” Rayla announced angrily.

Jason stared at his mother. “The passengers will not be involved in the crew’s business,” he said tartly, and then turned to the crew and started selecting the men who would come with him.

Rayla stared at her son in shock. She had never been spoken to by him in such a way, and soon her face had turned almost as red as her hair.

Stone reached out to the irate woman and tried to placate her. “He’s not your little boy anymore, dear. He’s practically a man. He is the leader of this crew. You cannot interfere in this.”

With that Rayla spun on her heels and stormed into the family cave, with Emily following, hoping to calm her mother.

“Jason,” Stone called, “Do you want to take Doug? A horse might be useful, even though the men will be on foot.”

“I do,” the youth said. “But I would like you to come as well. Your strength might be useful in places.”

“I’d be glad to join in,” Stone said.

The exploration party left before breakfast the next morning. The cook had prepared food for them to eat on the way, and each man had a pack and a canteen. Their goal was to circumnavigate the island on the beaches, going inland where something caught their attention.

The plan largely worked until they were nearly all the way around. Then the beach disappeared when they came to the cliff that Jason and the captain had seen during the hurricane. They went inland and uphill until they came to a path that led to the camp, but from the other way.

“It is an island,” Jason reported to the captain. “I’m certain it is the Hurricane Island. It is the right size and it would be unlikely for there to be two islands like that out here. And that explains the fire pits in the cave. No doubt they were created by shipwrecked sailors in the past. Hopefully they were rescued. I wouldn’t want to think they spent the rest of their lives here.”

Yeah, only one chapter this week. I got behind on my other story (Sunny) so this is late. But I hope to have another episode by midweek: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 61 – Stuck on the Island

For the next few months the crew and passengers fell into a routine. Jason knew that keeping people busy was the key to morale, so he immediately started projects. In the grove surrounding the ships he had men chopping down trees. Only the mature trees were harvested; those over eight inches diameter. Smaller trees were left to mature and to continue providing coconuts. It seemed that any tree over about five inches would bear fruit.

The carpenter also had a crew and they trimmed the trees into logs and planks and started building dwellings. Stone and family were first, and then the captain and mates. Soon there was a little village sitting on the beach.

Other men were assigned hunting duties. Mostly they just brought in wild goats. Those that came from the ship had soon gone wild as well. But on the south shore they found a colony of bird/fish that Stone said were birds called penguins. They couldn’t fly, and swam well, so many of the men referred to them as fish. They didn’t have much meat, but what they had was tasty. What they did have was a lot of fat, or blubber, and the cooks found this useful in many ways in cooking and baking.

Yes, that is cooks plural. There was the ship’s cook, of course, but Rayla and Emily had taken one of the first huts built and made it into a little restaurant. Rayla’s dolly training had included a wide range of tasty recipes, and pretty Emily was the waitress. The restaurant was only open three days a week and seated 12. That gave everyone a chance to eat there about once a week. Jason didn’t feel that the food was all that much better than the cooks (although he didn’t tell his mother that) but the change was good for morale and the tickets to the restaurant were being used in stakes in gambling games since cash was of low value on the island.

Sissy had her flock of chickens to look after as well and was able to gather a number of eggs each day, mostly going to the restaurant. But that was not the only poultry on the menu. The hunters discovered giant birds nearly seven feet tall nesting in one corner of the island. Stone said they appeared to be like the ostriches or emus of earth. One fact was that they were extremely difficult to bring down. Jason was the one who finally worked out the method. He and four other sailors surrounded a sitting hen. They did not like abandoning their eggs, which were usually two to a nest. Jason threw a looped rope around the long neck of the hen, and then another man did the same from the other side. The bird set off a long and loud squawking when dragged from the nest, then two males arrived and attacked the men. Two of the other sailors had spears that they used to keep the males away. The fifth man grabbed Jason’s rope and the youth went up to the bird and used his knife to kill it.

The male birds seemed to know immediately when the hen fell and backed off. Both had received wounds from the spears. One man picked up the two eggs from the nest, while Jason and another dragged the dead bird back to the camp. At the camp the bird was plucked and cleaned and was so large that it had to be roasted in the big bread oven.

Once cooked, Stone said it tasted like turkey, whatever that is. It certainly had a nicer taste than chicken, and the one bird was large enough to provide a meal for the entire camp. There was an immediate clamoring for more, but Jason said that they would only take one bird a month to prevent it becoming extinct. The two eggs were fertilized, but not well developed, looking much like the unfertilized hen’s eggs, except much bigger. Jason cut each egg cleanly in two with his knife, providing a huge amount of scrambled eggs in the restaurant, again with a slightly different taste from chicken eggs. The big half shells were also of use. Once cleaned out each provided a huge mixing bowl, with two being assigned to the cook and two to the restaurant.

Life continued month after month. After the half year mark had passed the men discovered that coconut shells that were not harvested became fermented and produced a liquor that enabled the sailors to get drunk. The grog had run out earlier, and some sailors had cravings. Two men got drunk on the first batch of the beverage and Kalosun had to take them onto the ship to treat them for the next three days. Coconut hangovers were much worse than the conventional type.

From that point on Jason was vigilant in making sure that all coconuts were brought to the cook and opened for food and milk. For a few months this seemed to work, but inevitably some nuts were hidden away and went bad. Or good, according to the men who had secreted them away.

Thus three more men had to be hauled up to the ship drunk, and Kalo worked his way up on a rope to tend them.

The next morning Sissy came to Jason with a worried look on her face. “Sun is pretty again,” she explained. The youth followed her to her chicken clearing and looked east, seeing the view he was fearing. It was a hurricane sunrise, meaning that by evening the storm would be on them and blow for the next few days.

He immediately went into action, stopping all tree cutting and hunting and having the men move everything to the caves, where he intended to have the colony weather out the storm. By noon most of the stuff was in the stone halls, and soon after the rain started. By supper, with it nearly dark outside three hours early, the rain was torrential, and everyone hunkered down in the caves.

The next morning the sun didn’t rise at all, with the rain-soddened camp only dimly visible. There were ropes set up between the two populated caves and Jason was working his way along that to check on the family when he heard a massive noise of wood breaking from the beach. There were no ropes heading down that way, so he couldn’t investigate.

“Something happened,” he told his father, explaining what he had heard.

“We heard it in here, too,” Stone told the youth. “Just not as clearly as you did. Wood breaking, you say? That sounds like it might have been the buildings being washed away. The waves would certainly be cresting the beach with this force of storm.”

“Oh no! My restaurant!” Rayla cried out.

“Gone, surely,” Stone said. “But it can be rebuilt. Next time we will relocate it up here on the hill, where the water can’t reach.”

The storm blew all that day, and most of the next. By noon on that second day there were sounds of the winds and rain abating, but it was still too dangerous to go beyond the ropes. The men played at cards, while Jason kept his family and Kookla entertained by telling sailing stories: both ones he had experienced and ones he had heard from the other sailors in the crow’s-nest.

The next morning the winds were down, and the rain was merely miserable, not near-fatal. Jason and Stone decided to go check out the damage. They struggled out, carrying a huge coil of rope that was tied to a rock at the edge of the first cave. They let out rope as they walked down the hill until they came to the beach, which was waist deep in water, making it hard for Jason to walk. Waist deep was in between waves. The waves pounded into Jason’s chest and occasionally his face. He eventually wrapped his arm around Stone’s belt. The giant was able to walk safely in the surf pounding across the beach.

The entire little town they had built over the past eight months was gone. There were a few upright timbers still in place, but only three or four. The rest were gone, with the wooden walls and coconut leaf roofs totally washed out to sea.

The devastation seemed terrible until Jason turned around and gasped. The ship was no longer there. Two of the four trees were broken off at the base, and another halfway up. “That was what I heard yesterday,” Jason said. “The ship broke free. And Kalosun and three men were on it!”

Stone held tightly to his son as he sagged. Kalosun was Jason’s natural father, and his mentor. And Stone’s best friend and accomplice. They both prayed that the men had survived the launching back into the sea.

It was the next morning that the entire group gathered on the beach, which was no longer underwater, if not dry. Everyone was in mourning. Kalosun had been both the crew’s Kithren minister and their doctor and was liked by everyone. More than a few eyes were misty, and the females were outright crying.

After a suitable mourning time, Jason called the men to action. “We don’t know they are dead,” he announced. “There were four of them, and four men can sail a ship. They might come over that horizon in a day or two. And when they do, I intend to have a proper dock built for them to land on. Carpenter, take as many men as you need to get started. It looks like there were enough logs on high ground to give you ample wood. Let’s get to work like the Kithrens we are, not some weeping whites.”

Enjoy: Dawn

Stone

Chapter 62 – Bringing back the ship

Kalosun heard the same shattering of wood that Jason had heard, but from only a few feet of distance. This was followed by a splashing sound and the ship began to roll in the waves. Jason had visited him a few hours earlier, just before the storm picked up, and Kalo suggested that he and the three drunks could weather the storm on board. Suddenly that seemed a less than wise decision.

Soon the ship was tossing about terribly in the rough seas. Kalo strapped the men to their benches so they would not be thrown to the deck. The men were still totally out of it. Fermented coconut certainly had a stronger effect than normal alcohol. The three men this time were different from the two before. That pair had learned the effects of the nuts, and never wanted to face that again.

The ship was tossed badly in the storm. Normally there was a full hull of supplies, but all those had been moved into the caves. The super-buoyant empty vessel sometimes tipped halfway over without a man on the tiller to sail into the waves instead of rolling with them. Kalosun finally had to belt himself into his cot after being tossed to the deck several times.

He got up several times during the night to feed the men the soup broth that Jason had sent up before the storm got too bad. Kalo had set up his kitchen/dispensary so that a rolling ship would not cause problems, so long as everything was fastened down. But with the ship tossing so badly even the soup he ladled into a bowl spilled violently before he could get near the men. He slurped the rest of the bowl himself: he had to eat as well. A rag was thrown onto the spill and he mopped it up with his foot. The next time he used a tall glass for the warm soup and managed to get most of it to the closest man without spilling by putting his other hand over the top. He got that man to drink half of the glass, and then the next man finished it.

A second glass was taken to the third man. Kalo know that feeding the men was an important step in getting the men through the alcohol poisoning. He drained that last of the soup and then got a clean glass and fed each man water: a full glass each to dilute the poisons. He also took a glass himself, and then spoon fed the men a potion that had seemed to help the time before.

Back strapped into his bed he tossed about for the next two days. He realized that the ship was being carried by the storm, riding along with it as it moved west. He wondered if they would ever get out of it. He got up every 12 hours or so to feed and water his charges. All three of them pissed themselves on the benches. There was a small privy in the sick bay, but only Kalo was strong enough to use it in the tossing ship.

The following day the storm seemed to be abating, or more correctly the ship was no longer trapped in the center. The ship still pitched, but no longer seemed near to tipping over, and Kalo no longer had to tie himself into his cot.

The men were conscious now but moaning in pain. The soup was gone, but they craved water and the potion. Kalo risked making a pot of oatmeal for the hungry men in the tossing ship, and finally managed to get some cooked enough to be edible. He had very little salt in his stores. Most of it had been taken by the cook, and the healer wanted to save what he had for potions.

He fed the men and himself, and first one, then the others made an attempt to use the privy. Two succeeded. The other was too weak to hold himself up and fell backwards out of the tiny room, violently hitting his arm hard enough that Kalo had to make a sling for it.

He had gotten piss all over himself, and the area around the privy and Kalo used the rag still on the floor to mop up what he could. There was oatmeal again 12 hours later and the men were moaning less, claiming that they were regaining strength.

The next morning the ship was rolling, but not so violently, and all three men were able to navigate their way to the privy when they woke. Kalo was already cooking, and the men said they felt able to work a bit. Kalo opened the door, and the heavy rain poured in. The waves were smaller, and the rain seemed a bit lighter as well, but it was hard to tell. The ship was a mess. Lines and spars littered the deck. It was barely light, and that was the dawn light streaming under the clouds. When the sun rose higher later the heavy black clouds would darken the skies again.

Kalo found a line coiled near the door. It was not supposed to be there, but had been tossed there by the waves, which thankfully no longer were topping the ship. The wind was still a problem though, and Kalo tied the rope to the handle of the sick bay door, and then struggled alone out to the railing at the rear of the ship, where he tied the other end to the railing up to the afterdeck. This would allow the weakened sailors to get to the rear safely. The rain had one good effect: it removed the piss from the men’s clothes.

Normally the three men were each twice as strong as Kalo, but they were tentative in attempting to come to the rear on the line. They were still weak from the poisoning they had brought on themselves. Finally, all three were on the top of the aft deck stairs and paused. They could see the wheel spinning out of control. They all made a dash towards the wheel during a gap between two waves. Kalo made a side trip and grabbed one of Jason’s steering ropes.

The wheel was spinning too fast for the men to grab it, and two of them bruised their knuckles trying.

“No, no,” Kalo said. “See how it spins so much one way, then stops and spins the other? What you need to do it grab it when it stops before spinning the other way. All three of you together, one man to an adjoining spoke.”

They managed to grab the wheel, but of course it was at the maximum turn and the force of the seas wrested it from their hands. Kalo had tied one end of Jason’s steering rope to a belaying pin, and the men tried again. This time, once they had stopped the wheel, they quickly spun it until it was centered properly. Then Kalo looped the rope over a pin.

Immediately the ship stopped tossing so much now that it was steered on an even keel. Two of the men dropped to the deck, exhausted, but Kalo and the other man managed to steer the ship into the waves, cutting the tossing even more. The two managed for about a half hour, and then the other two were recovered enough to take over. The sailor dropped to the deck, but Kalo managed to rest his aching arms while standing, telling the other two men how to steer.

Kalo had them take each wave at a slight angle to the starboard. He wanted to aim the ship away from the center of the storm at the port. The men continued in that method. Kalo went down to the galley and found it nearly empty. There was a package of a dozen ships biscuits, as hard as rock. He took them back to the men, and the ones not on the wheel eagerly chewed on them as they rested. The rain quickly took care of the staleness. In fact, at the end of each biscuit it was a soggy mass that helped hydrate the men. Each of them had two of the little rocks immediately, and then the other four were saved for several hours later.

The men worked through the night, and gradually came out of the worst of the storm. Waves were down to four or five feet, and Kalo went to sick bay and made more oatmeal. There was enough for six days, he calculated, if they only ate twice a day. The hot porridge was welcomed by the soaking sailors. They worked through all the dark hours, and finally could see light at dusk as the sun finally dropped below the horizon. The clouds were lighter, and farther off to the left. They were steering out of the storm.

The keel was easier to handle now as well and Kalo decided to have only one man on the wheel though the night. They were on two-hour watches, and all got much needed sleep in the six hours they were in bed. The men even went below to their normal cots rather than the soiled ones in the sick bay, where Kalo woke a bit early and started a hot breakfast.

“’snot rainin’ anymore,” one man said as he started spooning the warm porridge down his throat.

“Gawd, it stinks in ‘ere’” the other noted.

“Well, you lot are the reason for that,” Kalo admonished. He finished first and went to take the wheel so the third man could go eat.

“We found a mop stuck in a railing, and cleaned up your sick bay a bit,” one man said when the three came back aft.

“That privy were a real mess,” another said. The other man didn’t speak but took over the wheel. Kalo rested his aching arms and turned to the rear to survey the seas. The water was calm now, if you consider two-foot waves calm.

“I want to get some sails up. Topsails and one jib at least,” he said. “Can you three do that?”

“Shore ‘nuff,” a sailor said. “Though with only three it would be easier if we did it with the wind. You kin turn the ship easier when we have some sail.”

“Alright,” Kalo said. “Give me another few minutes to rest and I’ll take the wheel again while you men go aloft.”

“You really think we kin find th’ others?” a sailor asked.

“Maybe,” Kalo said. “We’ve only got enough food for six days, starting from today. I know the island is that way,” he pointed, “but I have no idea if it is south east or north east. We’ll have to put our faith in the Sun Goddess. Surely she wouldn’t let her namesake perish.”

A half hour later the sails were up and one of the sailors apparently knew how a jib worked, and he led the others to tacking the ship back and forth against the brisk breeze. Kalo was happy to see the ship leaving the hurricane behind and went through the captain and mate’s quarters looking for spyglasses. Unfortunately, these had all been taken out for use on the island.

The men sailed four more days and saw nothing. Kalo had no training in navigation, so had no idea how far they had travelled, and whether they had reached the vicinity of the island. He took to climbing the crow’s nest when he was not cooking and serving meals, the only things he was capable of on ship. The other three manned the ship on shifts, although Kalo still took a turn on the night watch which had been extended to two-and-a-half hours, giving each man nearly a full eight hours of sleep.

Kalo was planning to come down from the nest one evening to make the oatmeal. It was the last of the stock. There was enough for one meal, and another case of rock-hard biscuits and then the food would be gone. Kalo stood and looked to the south east and saw a glimmer of flickering light.

No one knows why Jason had picked that particular evening to burn the pile of tops and leaves of the trees being used to make the new dock. Later Kalosun told the crew that it was the Sun Goddess making him do it when the ship was in sight. Jason wasn’t sure, but he was thrilled when the ship appeared the next morning heading straight for the island. But by then the fire was out but the men on the ship had sailed in that direction all night, and in the dawn’s early light they were able to make out the island itself on the horizon.

It was Sissy, feeding her chickens and looking for eggs who saw the vessel first. She squealed, and when Jason came to see what the problem was, the girl was jumping up and down, shrieking: “Boat. The Big Boat. It comes.”

It was late evening when the Sun Goddess finally reached the island. Perfect timing as the tide was right for the vessel to approach the floating dock that the men had worked so hard to build. Captain Keenstone had appointed shifts to man the vessel when it came in and four tired and hungry men clambered down the gangway. The shifts not sleeping or manning the ship started reloading the vessel. It was easier than the unloading had been. It was downhill from the caves to the beach and a plank road allowed the wheelbarrows to cross the sand. And the fact they could just roll the supplied onto the ship in the water, rather than up in the air made things easier.

It still took several days to load the vessel. Gathering goats and chickens took some time. An ostrich was harvested a week early to allow the men to have a feast of Thanksgiving with the huge bird roasted in the ship’s gallery.

The last person to leave the island was Stone, riding Doug, who proudly stepped up the gangplank. It was much more regal than his leaving the ship on the end of a hoist had been.

Finally we reach the end of the voyage. Weird stuff to ensue: Dawn

Stone 63 – Off the Island

The ship pulled away from Hurricane Island in clear skies and a light breeze, just enough to have the ship scuttle along in its long interrupted southern voyage. It took a week or so for the family and crew to fall into a routine. They realized that the ever-different days on the island were over, and now it was back to the dreary sameness of the ship. Only Jason was happy. He lived to be at sea, and he saw variety in his dealings with the captain and the crew.

One month passed, and then another. They were far behind schedule after spending nearly a year on the island. There is no way that this would be a two-year voyage. It was going to be nearly that long just to get to the southern lands. Another two months had passed with little variation in the routine, and Jason was in the crow’s nest in the late afternoon with his friend the watchman.

Looking south, Jason thought he saw something. He alerted the watchman who had been in the middle of a story about his whaling days. The man stared south, squinting. “Naw. ‘Tis only a cloud bank I reckons,” he said, settling back down on his stool, but continuing to glance south from time to time. But Jason’s sharp young eyes told him he had seen something, so he took leave of the old tar and headed down to the deck.

He went first to the map room aft, and found the best spyglass in the cabinet, taking it to the prow of the ship, where he leaned on the rail and peered at the horizon for the longest time. After a half hour he knew he had been right. With the glass he could see a low-lying shore, riven by what he assumed was a river or inlet. The sun was starting to set. By the time he went to the rear and got the captain up here it was unlikely they would be able to see anything useful. He decided to just keep watching.

“Land ho. Due South,” rang out from the mizzen nest. Within a minute Jason’s friend in the main nest called out the same warning. All the men on the deck left their posts and soon the foredeck was crowded with men eager to see the first land since the island. Was this their destination, or another island? Jason continued to peer through the glass and ignored all the questions being asked him by the sailors.

Suddenly it became quiet. “What do you see, Jason?” asked the captain. The captain was not to be ignored, so Jason lowered the glass, and then unwrapped the safety strap from his neck, handing it to the captain.

“I think it is a shore, Captain,” he said. “If it’s an island it’s a huge one. There looks to be a gap in the hills there. Could be a river, or it could be an inlet wide enough for us to sail up.”

“Pretty dim light now,” the captain said, squinting hard into the glass. “We’ll see it closer in the morning. You don’t think we will approach before daybreak, do you?”

“It might be wise to drop a sail or three to slow us down,” Jason recommended. “I think we would still be clear but there might be rocks that will show up in the morning light. Best not to risk a night landing. What’s a few hours difference when we’ve been gone so long.”

A few sailors grumbled at the delay in landing, but the wiser ones saw Jason’s logic and pointed out that another day at sea would be preferable to swimming to the shore if the ship was pounded onto rocks.

The next morning the shore was still miles away, but now Jason, who was just finishing his shift as night mate, was again on the foredeck from sunrise on, peering at the shore, with most of his shift standing around him, looking out with bare eyes.

“’r there any rocks,” one man asked.

Without taking the glass from his eye Jason answered: “There don’t seem to be. Not even any breakers to hint at submerged rocks. There’s a fine sand beach to the right of the gap. Stony beach to the left. I suspect the captain will take us in on the high tide and then beach us on the sand. When the tide goes out you lot will be put to work hauling the ship higher up. So make sure you get some sleep after the shift changes.”

Soon the captain appeared with the first mate, who would handle the next shift. Jason sent his men below decks for the ordered sleep before reporting to the captain, who agreed with the youth after studying the shore with the glass.

“Mebee we should drop sails and drift in, sir,” the first mate said.

It was Jason who replied: “I’d keep her under sail for another two hours, and then drop the topsails. Another hour under the main sails will get us closer, and then we can drop the mains. It’ll be easier to steer the ship under sail, and we can react if there is something we can’t see yet.”

The captain agreed and the first mate didn’t object to Jason butting in. He had quickly learned that on this ship it was the third mate, and not the first or second who held power after the captain.

It was nearly noon when the ship was within hailing distance of the shore. Not that there was anyone to hail. That suited the captain quite well. He didn’t want to land facing hostile forces. He ordered the mains dropped and the sailors who carried out that command were barely on deck when the keel scrapped up onto the beach sand. Jason was on the wheel, and as soon as he heard the scraping sound, he turned the wheel hard to port. The ship’s momentum carried it on, and with the rudder turned it twisted the ship to the side. Jason let the wheel loose a second before the rudder dug into the sand. Had he still been holding it the force of its spin might have broken his wrist.

Seconds later the ship was on its side, with the deck at a 15-degree angle. Jason went to the family cabin to check on his family. Apparently Stone had been holding the girls when the ship beached, and had kept them all upright. Kookla had been on a bunk and was thrown to the floor, but the little guy didn’t seem to be hurt. Of course everything in the cabin had been tossed around.

“High tide is going to last another hour,” Jason reported. “After that the ship might pitch twice as much as it is now, and I want you all on the beach before then. I’ve ordered some men to come and move your goods to the lower side of the deck. I fear that you will have to go down on rope ladders, but it is only about 12 feet to the sand on that side.

Doug was forced into a crane hoist again, mainly to prevent his hooves from sliding on the tilted deck. Once he was at the rail, he insisted that the hoist be removed, and he leapt to the beach, preserving a bit of his dignity. Emily followed Kookla to the beach, then a terrified Sissy went down the ladder, followed by Rayla. Stone had gone down on a rope and was able to lift Sissy, and then Rayla from the ladder. Next barrels and sacks of provisions were lowered by hoist for the family and hauled up to the ground just off the beach by the sailors on shore.

Jason was managing the men when Stone came to him from where the family were standing.

“Son, can you come back with me?” Stone said. “There is something strange up there.”

Jason turned and passed command over to the second mate. The first mate was in command on the tilted deck. The youth turned and followed Stone atop Doug.

As they neared the family Jason immediately knew what was bothering Stone. There was a strange humming and buzzing sound from the vicinity of the woods.

“I don’t like it,” Jason said. “Maybe it is natives, preparing to attack.”

Just then a small bird or something flew near Stone and the man swatted it with his hand, knocking it to the ground at Sissy’s feet.

“Dolly,” the girl called out and Jason looked down to see what actually did look like a 12-inch doll, wearing a green dress made of some kind of leaf, with two wings on her back. One wing seemed to be bent.

“Don’t touch it Sissy,” Rayla said, kneeling before the tiny creature, who looked to be in pain. She picked it up, and then moved the bent wing into a position that matched the other. The look of pain on the tiny face immediately lessened, and Rayla lifted her up.

Meanwhile the buzzing and humming noises had more than tripled in volume, and Jason saw some more of the tiny creatures flying out from the forest. “Stop,” he called out. “We mean no harm. Your friend was hurt accidently.”

The creatures continued to come until the sky was dark with them surrounding the family on all sides, including above. Each one carried a small twig, sharpened on one end. Then there was a small, squeak from the injured creature, which Jason had started to think of as a fairie. The ominous sounds immediately dropped to even lower than they had been in the woods, although the buzzing of their wings continued.

Finally another fairie appeared and flew up, with four others hovering on either side. They had sticks, the central one did not.

“You understand truce?” the middle fairie said.

“We do,” Jason said. “But that is usually a term used between enemies. I hope that we can be friends. We are sorely saddened that one of your people was injured by accident. We hope she can recover.”

A shrill sound came from the horde of fairies flying about.

“That was Yrk, our truthsayer,” the middle fairie said. “She can tell when one lies, and she vows you tell the truth. I am Ulk, princess of these warriors and war leader. I declare you friends and hopefully allies.” She made a squeal, and most of the surrounding fairies darted back to the woods, leaving only Ulk and her guard. Jason noted that one fairie had remained behind and assumed she was Yrk, to ensure that only the truth was said.

“You said ally,” Jason said. “That indicates you have enemies? Who are they and what do they want?”

We have been beset by a tribe of unnatural beings,” Ulk explained. “They look a little like your people, but not. They all have breasts. Not as large as that one,” she pointed at Rayla, “but larger than those other two. And we have never seen ones like you three,” this time it was Jason, Stone and Kookla she gestured at. “You seem to have no breasts at all, which seems odd.”

“Half of our people and all of the children have no breasts,” Stone explained.

“I do not know the word children,” she said. “But our foes also look like that beast,” she pointed at Doug.

“Like him up to about here,” Stone pointed at Doug’s neck, with a person from here up? Rayla, point to your waist.”

“Yes, much like that. But the human part goes down to the gap between the legs, which are those of the beast. They had human-like organs down there. Female ones. Half of them have organs between the rear legs as well, like your beasts. Others have different organs down there.”

“This seem to be something called ‘centaurs’,” Stone explained to Jason.

“You also asked what they seek. They are after the pretty ones,” she said.

Here is proof that commenting helps. I got three early, positive comments on the last chapter, and they inspired me to spend that night writing, finishing two more chapters. This is the first, and there will be another tomorrow evening: Dawn

Chapter 64 – The Pretty Ones

“Who are the pretty ones?” Jason asked the fairie princess.

“They are the others native to this land,” she replied. “They create magic. Magic that our people need to live and expand. They look a bit like your animal, but much smaller and … well … much prettier. They have a long horn that comes out of their forehead. It is only a few inches long when they are born, but it grows longer each year that they live. The longest ever was over five feet long by a pretty one who lived nearly 1000 years. Eventually it got so heavy that she was unable to get up and get around. The others, including my people, tried to bring her food, but she eventually died.”

“That sounds like a unicorn,” Stone said.

“Such a sad story,” Rayla said. “Are there many left? Can we go and see them? Why do the centaurs want them?”

“So many questions,” the princess said. “I will try to answer all. Firstly, there are nearly 20 alive now, hidden in the forest. You cannot go to them, but they might come to you. They will come to this one,” she pointed at Emily, “for she is still pure. And they might come to the other young one, who was violated many years ago, and has remained pure since.”

“And I am not pure,” Rayla said, thinking of the many times she had made love to Stone.

“That is uncertain. You are not a normal person. I think there would need to be much discussion by the pretty ones to decide if you are pure or not. And your last question might be the most important. The outsiders come every year and try to get to the pretty ones. You see, their horns contain much magical power that the magician craves. Years ago he sent only a few of the beasts, and our people easily defeated them. The next year more came until two years ago there were hundreds. The magician makes more and more of the beasts. I think he does nothing else. None came last year, and I fear he has kept them back in order to get a larger group than we can stop.”

“You little things can defeat a great animal like a centaur?” Stone said with a laugh.

“We are small, but we have a deadly sting. We poison our spears and they can be deadly. Big ones like you can swat many of us away, but only one needs to get through and sting you to kill you.”

Stone stopped laughing as he thought of how close he had come to death when he swatted the little fairie away. “How many of you are there?”

“We number just under five thousand,” the princess said. “We usually lose five fighters for every beast we bring down. But we fear there will be more than 500 attack this year. We might be wiped out and if there are any beasts left, then they will go after the pretty ones, and take some. I fear they will slay the pretty ones and just cart off their horns.”

“Well, I can assure you that our group will fight. We have powers that will help you. And if the ship is still here there are 40 more men like Jason who will help out. Is there some way that we can call you, or for you to call us?”

“Wrk will call,” the princess said. “We can communicate with others in the tribe over great distances mentally. She is quite comfortable now and would like to remain where she is until she is completely healed, and perhaps longer.” Stone looked over at Rayla, and just could see the head of the small creature he had hurt poking out between her large cleavage. The fairie had a comfortable smile on her face and didn’t seem to be jostled as the bigger woman moved. Stone knew for a fact that those breasts were soft and cozy and realized that he wouldn’t have access to them for some time.

The princess and her escort flew off to the forest, where there was nearly no more humming or other noise. Jason left Stone and headed back to the ship, where he saw that no more goods were being unloaded. Instead the men were hauling the ship up onto the beach so it would be safe if there was a storm and higher tides.

The hauling was hard, with all 40 men pulling on six ropes. Shortly after, Stone and Doug returned and Jason stopped the men and he split the exhausted men into teams of 10 on four ropes. He then handed Stone the other two ropes, tied near the middle of the ship. When the men had caught their breath, he had another hauling. Only this time it was not a matter of the ship moving a few inches with each tug, but several feet. Soon the ship was well placed high on the beach.

“You did even better than I expected,” Jason told his father. “You moved the ship faster in a half hour than the men had done in two hours.”

“There is strong magic in this land,” Stone said. “I was able to draw it from the ground and it made both Doug and I many times stronger than normally. Now, can you send some men up to work on a house or two for the family?”

There were no palm trees in the woods nearby, but the men had lumber on the ship, both coconut trees and oak from Lakeport. The wood was hauled out and as the captain got crews working on scraping the barnacles off the ship, Jason took the carpenter and some men to work on the houses, erecting them in a spot that Wrk decided was ideal. It was close enough to the forest for her to call her people, yet near enough to the ship for safety.

That night the family slept in lean-tos with blanket roofs, but over the next few days the family got two sleeping rooms and a kitchen set up. The captain had gotten the hull scraped and once the houses were built the carpenter repaired all the leaks and defects on the vessel.

“I’m worried,” Keenstone said to Stone. “If the men get accustomed to being idle, they will not be a useful crew. I suggest we find them something to do. I want to build a proper dock here, and then put the ship back into the water, but that is only going to take two weeks or so. What can we do after?”

“Well, you have a ship. There is a lot you could do with it. You could try whaling, although I didn’t notice many whales on this end of the ocean. There are ample fish though. You could fish. Or you could explore the coast a bit. We will be moving on inland after we settle some business at this end.”

The captain mused. “I don’t think there are any whales about, and even so there is nowhere to sell the oil without going back across the ocean again. Fishing might work. We could go out for a week or two at a time. There are nets in the hold and a lot of room down there. We could fish till the hold is full, and then come back and dry the fish on the beach. It will keep the men busy for a few months, until we have fished the area out.”

That became the plan. The dock was built in five days: the men were getting adept at carpentry. And Stone and Doug helped get the ship back into the water on a high tide. Soon the men were ready to try fishing. Their first trip was only five days out, followed by four days in with Rayla selecting the prime fish for her kitchen. Wrk would not eat the fish, so Rayla’s idea of having a feast for all the fairies died. They were vegetarians, and three times every day her people sent a delegation in to feed her.

“Where does she poop?” Jason asked one day as he looked at the little creature nestled in his mother’s bosom.

“I asked,” Rayla said with a laugh. “She said fairies don’t poop. She has been out a few times lately to practice her sore wing, and I’ve checked. There wasn’t anything down there except a few tiny crumbs of the leaves she eats.”

The ship sailed again, planning to go out for two weeks. Kalosun sailed on the first trip but found there was little need for a second trip. The others on board, particularly the cook, had some healing skills. Kalo felt his place was with the family. Kookla switched places with him. His father wanted him on board ship, especially when Stone said that he expected to have to deal with magical beings. The boy’s mother had agreed to let him go on the ship, but not into magical danger.

Soon the beach was covered in thousands of drying fish and while the men had built fences around their haul, it didn’t seem that any animals came after them. Arthur reported that birds were around, and the gulls especially would come down to try and grab a meal. But Arthur was quicker and had made meals out of several of the birds before they realized that poaching here was not safe. Eventually Arthur started eating one or two fish a day, a negligible amount considering that he was keeping flock of gulls at bay that would decimate the entire beach in a day.

One morning Wrk awoke before dawn in an agitated state. “They come, they come,” she cried out, waking both Stone and Rayla from their separate beds. Jason also had a bed in that house, while Sissy and Emily were in the other. He woke soon after his parents.

“Our scouts have seen them coming,” Wrk cried. “Too many, too many. They say 10,000. We cannot stop that many.”

Jason and Stone then left the house and walked up to the riverbank. “They cannot cross here,” Wrk cried from her niche. “Further up the river is a mud bank they might try. If not there, then they will go up to the ford.”

Rayla had gotten her quiver and bow, and Stone had Pate on his shoulder. Jason had his knife. Both Pate and the knife were calling out danger. Their warning was not needed: both men could hear the sound of thousands of hooves thundering down the other side of the river.

Wrk led them to the mud flats, and they saw that some centaurs were there before them. Two particularly big ones were on the bank, about 20 feet above what looked like a sandy, wet beach. One called out with what seemed part way between a horse’s whinny and a human yell. Stone and Jason looked at the beasts, which seemed odd. In the front they looked female, with long hair that turned into a mane, and huge breasts. Not Rayla huge, but bigger than any normal female. But it was possible to see that there were male organs between the rear legs, even though the front human part seemed to have a female vagina.

Finally a young filly appeared, much smaller and apparently responding to their whinny. She reported in front of the bigger beasts, and one casually pushed her off the cliff into the mud. She immediately sank into what looked like quicksand, and her struggles to free herself just dropped her lower and lower into the muck.

The males on the ledge just laughed, looking at her struggles, and then cleared off. There was the sound of the herd thundering by.

“They sacrificed the small one to see if the flat was safe to cross. It isn’t, so they have gone up stream leaving her to die,” Wrk explained. “We need to go to the ford now.”

“No,” shouted Jason. “He grabbed the rope on Doug’s saddle and dashed out into the flats.

“No Jason,” cried Stone. “You can’t save her. You will die yourself.” But the boy leapt forward and half swam, half crawled out to the filly, who’s eyes showed raw panic.

Stone watched as his son reached the filly and saw him wrap the rope around the girl’s horse torso. He started back in his odd swim/crawling motion. Meanwhile Rayla picked up the end of the rope lying on the shore, and handed it to Stone, who started to pull. The filly stopped panicking as she felt herself being hauled into the far bank. Soon she felt solid muck beneath her and stumbled out of the mud.

Like a horse, she rested standing up. Mud was caked all over her, both parts. Emily and Sissy had followed the family, and now came into play, peeling the drying muck off the filly. She was over seven feet tall, and Stone realized that meant that the males who flung her away must be over 10 feet tall.

“Oh, pretty Pinky,” Sissy lisped as she cleaned mud away from the filly’s pink hair and mane. The girl’s face was extremely attractive, and her breasts seemed almost as large as the males that had pushed her in. Emily lead her upstream to a clear pool of water to wash, but she stopped next to Jason. “You are my hero,” she said, looking down at the exhausted sailor. “I love you and will do whatever you want.”

This is the last of the chapters I wrote the other night. Hopefully I can get one or two more over the next week: Dawn

Chapter 65 – The Battle

It only took Sissy and Emily a few minutes to clean the filly in the clear water, and Sissy insisted she would be called Pinky. Jason watched with interest, going into the clean pool to wash some of the muck off himself. Stone and Rayla had already headed off to the ford to meet the centaur attack. After Pinky was dried off, the two girls also headed off towards the ford, but Pinky and Jason just stared at each other, the filly looking down at the youth, who was more than a foot shorter.

After an uncomfortably long minute the filly reached down and took Jason’s hand and led him away, not to the ford, but to a small glade.

Meanwhile, at the ford Stone found the centaurs attempting to cross. The fairies were out in force, grouping and attacking the front centaurs. Stone was glad to see one of the beasts that had pushed the filly off the cliff get stung by a fairie stick and fall to the ground. He had pulled Pate and went into battle mode, rushing into the middle of the ford and swinging the singing sword left and right. He sliced through the human torso of the second beast that had pushed the filly.

He killed dozens in the first few minutes and saw nearly 100 get arrows from Rayla. Finally he saw Jason appear, with a strange smirk on his face. “Aim for the horse parts,” the youth called out so both his parents could hear. He was riding on Pinky’s back and would lean forward to stab at the hindquarters of passing centaurs with his knife.

Stone had noticed something strange. When he killed a centaur, the beast disappeared with a small pop and Stone felt a small rush of magic into Pate. If he had cut into the forepart of the animal, a Kithren appeared with similar wounds. But if his blow cut the rear, horse parts, then after the pop sound a Kithren appeared, dazed but unwounded. Both male and female Kithrens were lying on the field, not trying at all to harm either side.

Rayla had noticed the same thing and started aiming her arrows at the hindquarters of the centaurs. You might think that an arrow into the hindparts of the massive animals would not stop them, but it did, and the same pop and magic rush that Stone felt and the centaur turning into a Kithren man or woman. Rayla heard the pop, but didn’t feel the magic that flowed into Pate.

The battle lasted nearly five hours. Finally, the Centaurs retreated. Pate boasted that she had killed 1043, while Jason’s blade claimed a number of 832. Rayla wasn’t counting, but said Arthur had, and he claimed she had killed 1345. Wrk said that her people had killed another 1000 but had suffered nearly 3000 losses, more than half their army.

Stone mentally calculated 4100 centaurs had died, which meant that the crowd of beasts on the far side of the river still was over 5000. A second wave would probably break through, as the remaining fairies were exhausted, with many unable to fly. Stone and his family might be able to put up a fight for a while. Stone had drawn magic from the earth and shared it out to Rayla and Jason. As a result, they were tired, but not exhausted.

As they tried to get their breath, Jason saw Emily and Sissy on the battlefield. Emily was helping lead dazed Kithrens out of the water and onto the shore. There were several thousand of them. And Sissy was gathering up the spent fairies that had fallen and could no longer fly and carrying them to the rear, where it seemed that the reserve fairies were trying to help them recover their strength. Sissy made countless trips from the ford back to copse, carrying as many as a dozen fairies at a time.

Stone looked at the enemy on a ridge on the other side of the river, trying to figure out a strategy that would enable him to defeat them. Then, to his surprise, he heard, or more accurately felt, a series of magic pops like those that had occurred when a centaur was killed and turned back into a Kithren. He realized that he was not physically hearing the pops: it wasonly an effect of magic fleeing the defeated beasts. Looking at the ridge he saw thousands of centaurs disappearing with the pops. About a thousand more of the unchanged beasts rode away to east, and then dazed Kithrens started to stand up on the ridge. A rush of magic came towards Pate, alarming Stone. But the magic was wild, and quickly flowed into Pate’s tame blade.

“I think we have beaten them,” Stone announced to Rayla who still had Wrk nestled in her hiding spot.

“Thank the Goddess,” the little fairie said. “I will send the news to the queen, princess, and the others. Many are unable to speak until they get a boost of magical energy from the pretty ones. But they have all fallen in love with the girl who carried them to safety and want to bless her.”

“What happened to the beasts?” Stone asked. “They still had enough left to win. But they all just died on that ridge, or at least transformed back to Kithrens.”

“We never knew how the magician created the centaurs,” Wrk said. “But it is apparent now that they were Kithrens transformed into beasts. When they were wounded the magic broke and they returned to their original state. The magic went wild, and it has seemed to flow into you, and your sword. Look at how you sparkle with wild magic. Perhaps the wizard had lost enough centaurs, and enough power, that he could not control so many.”

Stone looked at Pate and saw the same sparkling as when he had slain the dragon. He also saw that his arms sparkled far more intensely then they had before. He pointed his arm at the copse with the fairies and sent out a weak charge of magic. He heard Wrk gasp.

“All the fairies are recovered,” she said in amazement. “Your magic is even more powerful than that of the pretty ones.”

Stone then played a weak charge across the Kithrens that Emily had brought out of the water, and those on the ridge, who were slowly making their way to the ford. You could see eyes widen as they felt refreshed by the magic after having been enslaved by it for so long.

Kalosun was on a hill near the ford, preaching, and the crowd gathered around him. He spoke for two hours and then finally worked his way through the crowd to come to Stone. “They appreciate what you have done for them, but they are hungry. They had not eaten in weeks. The magician fed him through his spells, but it is not like real food. Can we feed them?”

“We have fish,” Rayla said. “I don’t know if it will feed 4,000 though.”

“It will be a start. Lead them down to the beach and set up some fires for them to cook the fish. One of the sailors said the catch had been 3000, so there should be at least a half fish for each of them. While you are doing that, I will make some plans with the fairies.

Stone went to the copse and requested to talk to the queen or the princess. Soon both were hovering in front of him, no longer feeling the need for an armed escort. Stone asked if the Kithrens could stay and detected serious resistance. They were reluctant to refuse Stone’s request after all the family had done for them, but they didn’t want outsiders on their land.

“What about the lands on the other side of the ford?” Stone asked. He saw relief on the faces of the two rulers. They could deal with friendly Kithrens providing a buffer from the wizard.

As soon as the parley was over, Stone started to send bursts of magic into the air, with small fireworks bursting in the evening dusk. But most of the magic he stored up went into the cinders that fell to the earth. In Westport he had made the gardens especially fruitful. Now the cinders landed on barren. stony earth, causing it to sprout and turn green. Gardens appeared that would be able to feed people, as well as fully grown trees and copses. He continued feeding magic into the air until he felt he had none left.

The next morning Kalosun prayed to the people again and explained that they were to go into the newly green areas and build houses and create communities. Many men said they wanted to be fishermen: the little food they had eaten the night before was so tasty. There was very little left for the morning. But Kalo promised that they would find food soon after crossing the ford. Stone had created some major gardens a few miles in that would provide them fruit and vegetables until they got to the places they wanted to settle in.

Many of the Kithrens were in couples already where a married couple had been transformed together. In many other cases people had paired up as they ate dinner the night before and more couples were formed as the people moved slowly across the ford. By noon the last of the transformed Kithrens were across and Stone’s family ate a quiet meal, having skipped breakfast so they wouldn’t be rudely eating in front of people who had none.

After the meal a swarm of fairies had appeared. Wrk was in the front of them, and explained that they had a gift for Sissy, who had helped so many during and after the battle. The swarm contained over 200 fairies, both those the girl had helped and their friends. The swarm descended on the girl’s face, and she giggled with glee at the fairies touching her skin.

About 15 minutes later, though, she let out a scream and ran to Rayla, planting her face into the woman’s ample bosom, sobbing: “It hurts. It hurts.”

She was in that position for about an hour, sobbing hard at first, and then letting up as the fairies hovered about with concern on their faces. Finally, she raised her head and announced: “It doesn’t hurt any more. I feel different inside my head though.” Amazingly she no longer had mongoloid eyes. In fact, she was quite pretty now.

Wrk explained. “The swarm cured your brain. The pain you felt was from having so many thoughts and ideas in your head at one time. It hurt because you were used to having only one at a time. It took an hour or so for your brain to mature enough to deal with it. Now everything anyone had every taught you is there in your brain, waiting for you to use it.”

“That is a wonderful gift, and probably more than I deserve,” she said. She even sounded different. The lisp was gone, and her words seemed more measured and wiser. She carefully put her hand out and Wrk landed on it. In the past she would have squealed with glee having a fairie on her hand, but she merely smiled and carried the small woman over to Rayla, easing her into her resting place.

During the days following the battle Jason and Pinky had disappeared from time to time. When they came back, the youth had an odd smirk on his face. It was Rayla who eventually worked it all out.

“Jason, have you been having sex with that beast?” she demanded.

“She is not a beast. She is a girl. Mostly,” Jason retorted. His failure to deny Rayla’s claim answered her clearly.

“Not by the rear, I hope,” Rayla retorted.

“Of course not,” Jason said. “She is a girl in front. Doug might want to take her the other way, but then I would have to kill him.”

“Your affair stops now!” Rayla said.

“No it doesn’t,” her son replied. “I love her, and I am 15 now, which is adult. You cannot tell me I can’t. I will leave if you don’t want us, but we will go together.”

Rayla sighed. Her boy was grown up and had the right. Then Sissy spoke: “I think a part of the problem is that Pinky’s female parts are nude, and that bothers your mother, Jason. I think I can sew her something to wear up front, and that will make you mother feel she is more of a girl, like you do. Will you wear clothes, Pinky?”

“I will try,” the filly said. It was about the same time the next day when the first fitting occurred. Sissy had created a bra and a blouse for Pinky. There was a problem because the garment could not wrap entirely around her torso due to her thick mane of pink hair running down the center of her back. Sissy took an idea from the bra, which worked well. The blouse had five straps at different places, and these could be weaved through the mane to hold the blouse on.

The skirt below was more of a loincloth, although it covered her front sex, and wrapped around with straps at the top and the bottom, under her horse torso.

“It looks wonderful,” Pinky gushed with pleasure.

“It does look more respectful,” Rayla admitted. She still was not a fan of the filly, but she would rather accept her than lose her son.

“I will make several more,” Sissy said. “This was much more challenging than the way I used to clothe my dolls, but now I seem to have the ability to design anything.”

It was three days later that Wrk announced the next boon for the family. Apparently the unicorns had agreed that the three women of the family were all pure enough to meet with the magical animals. Wrk warned that they should not attempt to touch the pretty ones, and they all agreed, even the newly wise Sissy. The fairie accompanied Rayla to translate.

A swarm of about 100 fairies accompanied them into the woods to a small, apparently empty, clearing. All three realized that they were being watched by hidden eyes. Suddenly Emily gasped. A gorgeous horse, not much bigger than a pony, but with the classical lines of a horse, appeared. It had a 14-inch long silver horn coming out from its forehead. The fur was completely silver in color, matching the color of the metal of the horn.

After that brave unicorn saw and felt nothing to fear from the women, others started to appear. Soon 19 were standing in a semi-circle. Wrk spoke: “Emily, you have been granted permission to touch one,” and the girl walked up and rubbed the animal’s shoulder. It seemed to like it, making a purring sound in its throat.

Next Sissy was given a chance, with the same result. Rayla held back, feeling she was not pure enough to handle the animals, and happy just to see them.

Wrk spoke: “Now you Rayla. They know what you did for them in the battle and want to reward you. It helps that they seem to enjoy being petted. That is not something we can do for them.”

Rayla moved forward and petted one of the unicorns with a longer horn. She felt a tingle, similar to what she felt with Stone. Was this why only the pure could normally touch them, She tried to suppress the emotion.

Another quieter chapter: Dawn

Chapter 66 – Consolidation

Stone realized that he didn’t need a yellow brick road to get to see the wizard. His magic maintained a trail; a long line that connected him to the wizard in the tower, which Wrk said was located in the center of the continent on a large mountain.

When it became clear that the link was not weakening, Stone decided not to follow it immediately, but to help the Kithrens get established. The ship arrived a day or two later, and the crew were surprised to find that they had avoided being in a battle. They also learned that the fairies did not want them on that side of the river, so the dock had to be moved. There was already a small village developing on the mouth of the river, on the east side. One man had built a raft to carry people and goods across the river, and he had good business for the next few days, carrying components of the dock across so it could be rebuilt on the east.

The entire was crew working on the dock, except a small skeleton crew on the ship, so it only took a few days to build the dock. Several Kithrens were adept carpenters and also worked on rebuilding the dock. Others were simple laborers and these men earned money from Stone’s purse in unloading the fish. Stone was happy to pay the Kithrens, since he had seen in Greenstone how important coin was for the community as it grew. Luckily, he had a healthy supply of small coins on the ship, and he was able to pay people with pennies, ha’pennies and forthings rather than silvers and golds. This helped the money spread out as those he paid bought from other.

The fairies knew of a herd of wild mules on the east side and had joined in with a search party that was able to capture 20 Jennies and two Jacks. The beasts were quickly trained, and several wagons were built. The owners of these animals gathered up loads of the dried fish and started out in all direction to sell to the outlying groups of people. The remote people traded fruits and vegetables from their magically-enhanced gardens for the fish and soon a trading network developed.

Houses were built in the little village, and some men built boats. As well as the deep-sea fish coming in from the ship every week or two, they were able to bring in fresh shore-fish every morning. Stone had his houses moved over from the fairie side of the river and set up at the edge of the village, ending the human contact with that side.

But before that happened, Wrk, whose wing had completely healed, came back to Rayla and told her that the ‘pretty ones’ wanted to see her again. She was led back to a different grove from the last time, and met with an older unicorn, with a horn nearly as tall as her body.

“She says she is the queen of the unicorns, and is nearing the end of her life,” Wrk translated. “She wants you to have her horn as payment for saving them in the battle.”

“Can she live without the horn?” Rayla asked.

“No, she can’t,” Wrk said. “She will die when it is harvested. You would have to cut it free with a knife or sword. She doesn’t mind dying: she says her time is near anyway.”

Rayla was repulsed. “I could never do that. With a knife? Yecch. Tell her thanks are enough of a reward to me.”

Wrk relayed the message, and the unicorn looked confused. “She has never met anyone who would refuse a unicorn horn. They are so valuable. If you won’t take hers, she asks that you take one of the ancients.”

The queen whinnied and soon three younger looking animals appeared. They led Rayla a long way into the forest, and then stopped, arguing amongst themselves for a few minutes. Wrk relayed the problem.

“No one other than pretty ones have ever seen this site, and they question the queen for suggesting that we can see it. But she is the queen and rules absolutely,” the fairie said.

With that two of the beasts used their horns to push aside vines, revealing a cave. All five walked in, and when the vines fell back over the door, the sun was blocked out. But the cave was not dark. Lying on the cave floor were nearly 100 horns, glowing and gently emitting light that lit the room as well as whale lamps could.

“These are the horns of the ancestors,” Wrk translated. “The pretty ones use this spot to come and pray to, and talk with, their forebearers. You are to choose one to take. They only ask that you take one from the middle of the pile. The ones at the far end are those of the original pretty ones, and the ones at the near end are recent deaths, within the last 1000 years, and many in the herd still remember them, and would not like to lose those memories.”

“If I take a horn, then they will forget that unicorn?” Rayla asked.

“Not immediately, but after a few years the memories would fade. Only the magic of the horns keeps the memories alive. And of course they would no longer be able to talk to the ancients.”

“That is almost as bad as slicing the horn off the queen,” Rayla said. “I don’t need a unicorn horn and won’t take one if it means the loss of a departed member of the tribe.”

The three young unicorns argued again when Wrk translated Rayla’s wishes to them. Finally, they all walked back to the queen, where it took some time for the young ones to explain to the queen.

“You must have a boon,” the queen said. “If not one of the treasured horns, then something using the power of the horns.” She whinnied again as Wrk translated, and soon five more animals came out of the woods, more mature than the first three, but nowhere as old as the queen, who whinnied instructions to them.

“She wants you to stand very still,” Wrk said as the eight pretty ones formed a semicircle around them. Soon Rayla felt magic power radiating from the horns. She had felt Stone’s magic in the past. This was both the same, and different. More feminine. After a few minutes their horns dipped and they moved closer, touching her skin between her blouse and her pants. Then they lowered her pants with the horn, and she was amazed to feel that at least three of the horns were in her vagina, and she could feel a tingling within her. Finally, they all backed away, whinnied to the queen, and departed into the forest.

Rayla gasped. The sensations were better than an orgasm. She could still feel the tingling inside of her. She looked down at Wrk.

“It is a boon with mixed blessings,” the fairie said. “The queen read your mind and was quite certain you would take the good parts in spite of the bad.”

“What are the good parts?” Rayla asked.

“You are now a human woman,” the fairie explained. “Look at your stomach.”

Rayla did and saw that she now had a belly button. A rather cute one, she thought, although it looked odd sitting on what had for so long been a blank area. She smiled at it.

“What is the bad?” she asked.

“Several things. You will have the normal human reactions once a month. You will also start to age, but you are still 18, just as you have been for the last 10 years. And you can give birth, if you are not careful. Finally, your breasts are not as large as they were. Without magic to support them they would grow painful.”

“The last of those counts as a good thing,” Rayla said. “And to give Stone another child … or several …”

“You might not feel that way when giving birth,” Wrk said. “I understand that the human birthing is not a comfortable affair.”

“Tell the queen that I graciously accept her boon and thank her for it.”

The girl and the fairie made their way back to the river. Rayla felt different somehow. She came across Emily and Sissy at the camp, which was being dismantled. When they found out that she had gone to see the unicorns without them, they were upset. After Rayla told what happened, they were ecstatic.

Rayla decided not to tell her busy husband until the evening. When she did, he found that making love to his wife was not all that much different than before. Yes, she had smaller breasts, but they were still larger than almost all women on this world. Her clothes had changed when the transformation took place, and Sissy had already started to alter the spare clothes to fit.

The next morning Stone woke refreshed and said that the family would head off to the wizard in one week. That gave everyone time to pack and get ready, and for the Kithrens to be able to work without them. Kalosun was seen as the leader of the people and decided that he would remain in the new village as leader. Stone gave him an ample supply of money, with instructions to be liberal in spending it. Kalo had built a small hut on a nearby hill and preached from it daily. Many people came to listen to him daily, but everyone seemed to show up once a week. The people were still traumatized by what the wizard had put them through in the transformations, and many people needed Kalosun’s gentle preaching to find ease.

In a week they were ready. Stone rode Doug, of course, and Jason rode Pinky. Rayla, Emily and Sissy walked since they were travelling at a slow speed. Wrk had gotten permission from the fairie princess to accompany them and spent most of the time nestled into Rayla’s now smaller cleavage. There was one pack wagon with the baggage and food. It was this that controlled the pace of the trip: the mules did not like moving too fast. There was a bench on the rear of the wagon and from one to three of the women could ride on it if they tired of walking.

Arthur did not make the trip, although he kept them in range for the first few days. Stone wanted him to stay behind to protect the dried fish from gulls, and also so they would have contact with the ship. Stone had left the captain with a series of detailed instruction in code so that he could use the raptor as a way of communicating with the ship, at sea or in port. Rayla was not in favor of this idea, since she had been in contact with Arthur every day for 10 years, even longer than she had known Stone. But she agreed to the need, and let the bird stay in town. If nothing else, it allowed the travelers to know what was happening in the village. Wrk could fly easily now, and was 10 times the speed of the bird. So she became the advance warning system.

On the evening of third day of the trip Wrk appeared in front of Stone, clearly agitated. “There are centaurs out there. Only 100 or so, making camps in early afternoon and travelling at night and early mornings.”

“Only 100? They had nearly 1000 when they fled from the battle. Why would they only use 100?” Jason asked from Pinky’s back.

“I have been thinking about this for some time,” Stone replied thoughtfully. “Some of the magic I retained helps me understand. The wizard apparently draws his power from his creations. When we defeated him, he lost a great deal of magic. He might rue letting so many of the centaurs re-manifest into Kithrens. It would have been a massive loss of power. But now I think he needs to keep 900 at his tower to provide magic for the 100 trailing us.”

“But we can kill 100 easily,” Jason said. “You could do it yourself, let alone with Mom and I.”

“Yes, in a daylight raid while we are prepared,” Stone said. “But I think they want to surprise us with a night attack. Catch us when we are sleeping, so to speak.”

“But now we know where they are, so we can be ready,” Jason said with a smile.

“Yes. And remember, attack only the horse parts. These are transformed people. Save as many of them as we can.”

I thought this would be longer. Perhaps there are only five or six chapter left in the story: Dawn

Chapter 67 -- Attack

The entire camp broke up at news that the centaurs were on the move. Doug and Stone moved to the left of the camp, and Jason and Pinky followed. Rayla and Wrk moved to the right, with Rayla pulling her bow. She pulled on the bowstring and discovered that she no longer had the strength and magic she had as a Dolly. She sent Wrk to notify Stone, and the fairie flew off. Seconds after, Rayla felt some magic flow into her from her husband. Wrk stayed with him for a second, outlining the paths that centaurs were taking. The animals were walking rather than charging: they still thought this would be a surprise attack.

Stone told Wrk to alert the girls and had them move into a safe position behind Stone and Jason. Then Wrk flew back to Rayla, who had now found she had even more power than she had before. Wrk pointed out three large centaurs standing on a hill. They were over 300 yards away, out of range for Rayla in the old days. Suddenly there was a noise down at the camp. The centaurs had broken through and were attacking the tents with their spears, thinking they were killing the people within. But Stone and Jason had followed them, and were attacking from the rear, the best way to harm the horse parts. Soon Stone could feel the pops of Kithrens de-transforming.

Rayla reacted to the sounds by taking three quick shots at the centaurs on the hill, and then turning to the battle without even looking to see if her aim resulted in hits. She got another five shots off at the attackers, who were only 100 yards from her. Then suddenly the centaurs all froze, and were quickly hacked in the horse parts at by Stone, Jason and Pinky, who carried a small spear. In seconds all the centaurs had been transformed into Kithrens, and Emily and Sissy came out to help them into the camp, which was a shambles. Last two arrive were three Kithren males from the hilltop. All three of Rayla’s long shots had hit, and apparently these three were leaders of the attack. Once they were transformed back, the centaurs still fighting in the camp were leaderless, and had frozen.

In the camp Rayla started a huge fire and made oatmeal in the three largest pots. The Kithren were famished and looked at the food hungrily as it cooked. Soon it was ready and was doled out with people taking turns with the bowls and plates from the small food wagon. Those waiting were fed fruit that had been gathered up in the last garden the family had passed a day before. While they were eating Stone told them about the location of that camp, and the location of the village beyond at the river. The Kithrens would have to leave in the morning: the expedition could not be delayed by the new 100 people.

After another breakfast in the morning the people started to move away. Stone was pleased. He had gained the magic the wizard had used to create the centaurs, weakening the man in the tower by at least the same amount.

It took another day to get to the tower, which was on a small hill. There were centaurs around, but none attacked. In fact, they tended to run away, or hide. Clearly the wizard did not want to lose any more power. The magic link to the tower told Stone that his name was Porthanalos. The group tied up the donkey team and the supplies, and then walked an hour to the tower together, finally crossing a drawbridge. When they were all on the bridge, halfway across, the bridge disappeared. But they didn’t fall. Stone used his magic to replace the bridge. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. It was quite odd crossing an invisible bridge and being able to look down and see a moat. There were mermaids in the moat, human from head-to-waist and fish-like below. But the faces were terrifying, not pretty, with huge teeth and vicious fangs and snake-like tongues flickering in and out.

As they reached the end of the invisible bridge, a steel portcullis dropped, blocking the way. Stone merely waved Pate, and the inch-thick steel bars were split, and then the entire thing disappeared as the magic creating it was cut.

The next barrier was an oaken door and again when Pate touched it the door disappeared, and Stone felt another small amount of magic flow into the sword.

They walked along a corridor and finally spotted the magician, sitting atop an ornate looking throne.

“Who comes to me with bared steel?” the man called out.

“We seek knowledge,” Stone said. “We want to find out why we were brought here.”

“I am Porthanalos, the source of all knowledge. Sheathe your sword and we will speak.”

Stone put Pate away and dismounted. “Do you know who brought us here, or why?”

“I brought you here, with some magical help from the lesser wizards,” the man said. “All of you were about to die from one reason or another. I saved you. You were supposed to become the wizard of the north, but you started freeing slaves instead of creating them. You failed.”

Just then the wizard waved his arms in a flamboyant gesture and Stone felt an attack of magic. Pate was sheathed, so Stone tried to combat the magic with his own personal magic. For a moment it worked, and held back the wizard’s attack, but suddenly his magic crumpled, and Stone felt very odd.

The magician then turned his attention to Rayla, who had been firing arrows at the wizard, only to have them fall short against some kind of magic force field. “You, my sweet,” the man said. “You look different from the body I created. Your boobs are too small by half. But don’t worry, I can fix that. Many Dollys need to be able to create milk for masters who are into that. I’ll just tweak that, and in a few minutes, you will be able to feed your baby-master.

Rayla looked in horror at Stone. The giant was gone, and in his place was a baby. Oddly, the baby still was muscle bound, but only looked to be a year old.

“The barrier around,” Wrk said from her nest tucked inside Rayla’s cleavage, “Perhaps there is no top to it.”

Rayla quickly got the point and started firing arrows straight up. She still had the magic Stone had given her in the last battle and was able to fire off 100 arrows within a minute. Then she turned her attention back to the wizard, who was sending magic at her to no effect.

“It’s not working,” the wizard sputtered. “I should be able to transform any dolly I created. And I remember creating you.”

“Perhaps I am not a Dolly anymore,” Rayla said tugging up her top from the waist, revealing her new navel.

The wizard gasped at that. “That is impossible,” he said and then had to look up at the arrows raining down at him, each one targeted to his head.

While he was distracted Sissy darted over to baby Stone, freeing him from his oversized clothes. She also pulled Pate from the scabbard. At first it was nearly too heavy for her to lift, but soon she felt it feed her some power and she was able to move it around to the front of the baby. She clasped the tiny hands around the hilt, and pointed the sword at the magician, who was just clearing the last few arrows.

“You, girl!” he shouted at her. “What are you doing?” He shot magic out towards her. But Pate now started to absorb the magic, and none hit the girl. For the next few minutes, Stone slowly started to grow as he held onto Pate with his chubby hands. Soon he looked like a four-year-old and stood up. When he looked 10, he was able to lift Pate off the floor, and the sword started sucking more magic out of the wizard.

Now a teen-aged Stone was drawing more and more magic, and the wizard’s face screwed up with rage when he realized that he was not attacking with magic, but it was being drawn from him. You could see him trying to stop the outflow of magic, but Pate just drew more and more.

Now full-sized again, although completely naked with his clothes around his feet, Stone drew more and more power. Now it was the wizard who was shrinking, although not into childhood. His body grew smaller and thinner and older. Finally, it was a completely ancient looking old man who finally turned to dust with a large pop of magic.

Stone felt the popping sound that told of centaurs in the surrounding area reverting into humans, and then a pop as large as a bang. The tower itself was disintegrating. Stone went to put up a force shield over his family, until he realized that the tower was not breaking apart into bricks and stones but was now just the dust that was pouring down upon them.

Stone reached down and pulled up his shorts and then his pants, not worrying about his shirt at the time.

Jason was off to the side, sitting atop Pinky when the popping had started. He was pretty sure that the lack of magic from the wizard would affect the filly, so he wrapped his arms around her human waist, closing his eyes and waiting.

Soon it happened. He heard a large pop right beneath him, and his feet slowly dropped to the ground. He wondered what Pinky would look like as a Kithren. He vowed that he would still love her, even if her looks were merely plain. She felt normal though. He opened his eyes.

All he could see at first was her hair. It was slightly darker than before, nearer to red than pink. And it was thick and luscious. On her head, the mane on her back, and her tail. Yes, she still had a tail.

Pinky turned to look at him. The profile showed the same face, although her pink skin was paler now, nearly normal with just a tint of pink.

“Hold me,” she gasped in fear. “How do people walk with only two feet?”

He looked down and saw that her forelegs were human-looking, and quite curvy, ending in small feet rather than hooves. They were also a foot shorter than they had been before, leaving the girl only a few inches taller than Jason, perhaps 6’2” instead of 7’3”. She was also teetering as she got used to standing on two feet again.

“You’re still beautiful,” Jason said, and Pinky blushed, something she hadn’t been able to do with her centaur form. Emily came over and took Pinky’s hand for balance, allowing Jason to view his girl from a few feet away. Sissy stood further back, wondering how she could alter Pinky’s clothes. The mini skirt had turned into a midi with her loss of height, and the top was much smaller. Her breasts had shrunk, although they were still large for a human. Her shoulders were narrower, and her arms thinner and more feminine. Something Sissy saw immediately was that her butt was naked now there was no horse parts. And it was pink skin, not fur.

Jason moved to the side, and then the back. From the rear her butt looked much like a horse, especially considering her tail. Her hips were very wide, and there seemed to be an awful lot of padding back there, compared to Sissy and Emily.

Sissy took the girl’s hand and led her away, taking small, delicate steps. Sissy wanted to get started on clothes immediately so that she was not continually mooning the others.

The others in the party were standing in a heap of dust that had once been the tower. Stone had dressed again, and Kithrens were slowly coming towards them, confused and disorientated from their recent transformation. Stone was almost impossible to look at, with so much wild magic flowing from Pate and his body causing him to glow like a burning torch. He raised the sword and started sending magic blasts into the air. There were no fireworks at all this time, but where the blasts landed the barren land transformed into gardens and groves. It took an hour for him to transform the land around him into a lush green land for the Kithren’s to live in.

He directed the transformed to a nearby garden where there was fruit and vegetables for them to feed on.

Nearly two weeks without a posting. I think this is a new record for me. But there will be a new chapter for Sunny tomorrow, and I hope to wrap up this story in a few weeks.

Chapter 68 – New conquest

After defeating Porthanolos Stone planned to spend another week before tackling the next wizard. This would give the reconstituted Kithrens a chance to readjust to their new forms. It was not only the centaurs who had changed when the wizard’s power disappeared, but over 100 mermaids who had been in the castle moat, as well as the nearby river, and several dozen Harpies, who had been Porthanolos’s eyes in the sky. These women had been transformed with a female body, including the huge breasts that the wizard seemed to instill on all his creations. But they had no arms, instead having great wings that were covered in feathers and allowed the creatures to fly, although only through the magic power the wizard fed them. Their bodies were too heavy to fly naturally. When the wizard popped out of existence the five who were in the air at the time glided rapidly to the ground on their wings, which reverted to arms the instant they landed.

Stone had not seen the creatures, although Wrk had, and it was her description, plus Stones understanding of Earth mythology that led him to understand them. All were female when returned to human form, and were prettier than the average Kithren woman, which enabled them to find mates quickly.

Stone encouraged the changelings to mate, either temporarily or permanently. He wished he had Kalo around to lead the people, who could feel the magical power in him and didn’t entirely trust the white giant not to harm them like every other wizard they had met had.

Two days later the transition was moving slowly, but with more than half of the changelings still in the area when Stone felt his magic send out an alert. He quickly drew Pate, who sang out the warning: there were over 400 Kithrens approaching, with a magician in their midst.

But a minute later she sang a happier tune. This was not an attacking force, but a surrendering one. Stone mounted Doug, and rode out to meet the next wizard, who Pate had named Whojo.

Soon Doug was in the middle of the incoming people, who were unarmed and appeared to be normal Kithrens. As they walked in, the people backed away, leaving an empty path to a man being carried on a sedan chair by four very big Kithrens. When Doug got close, a hand came out of the curtained chair and rapped twice with a wand. The big men set the chair down, and then stood back, clearly tired from their effort. A second later a rather small man climbed out and looked up at Stone, high up on Doug.

“I am Whojo,” the man said. “Are you the wizard who defeated Porthanalos?”

“I am,” Stone said.

“Then I beg to serve you,” the little man said, falling to his knees and then prostrating himself entirely. “I served Porthanalos for centuries. I have one power that he did not: the ability to send people or things to distant places with magic. Mostly I was used to send his Dolly creations to the other side of the ocean, where his customers were. His agents there would amass the money he charged, and then I would transport it back here. I offer myself, and all my slaves to you.”

At the word slaves Stone twitched. “How many of these people are your slaves?” he asked.

“Why all of them of course,” Whojo said. “They provide me with the power to transmit things. I don’t have as many as Provo, the other wizard to the east, but they are enough to meet my needs. Porthanalos often used my slaves to make his creations, but he would always ensure that Provo would send replacements.”

“You have no slaves,” Stone announced. “I free them all immediately.”

“You can’t do that,” the groveling man cried out. “With no slaves I have no magic. I an nothing. And they will kill me.”

“Can you not draw power from them if they are not slaves?”

“Why would they do that?”

“You could pay them. As servants they would do what you wish, so long as you are fair to them and provide them a living wage.”

“But that would cost so much. I have some gold, but it would be gone in weeks if I need to pay 400.”

“Do you need so many?”

The little man calculated. “I suppose I could live with 50 or 60, but that would only delay the time when I have no money. I suppose I could own a farm, but I am unused to manual labor.”

“You have another way to make money,” Stone said. “You said you could transport things. People would pay for that, to be able to magically get from one place to another, without the tedium and dangers of days on a trail.”

Whojo sat up, clearly thinking. “But only 60 slaves would not provide enough power to move anyone more than a mile or two. Even the full 400 isn’t enough to move a dolly across the ocean. Porthanalos used to provide me with more power to do that.”

“Stop thinking of them as slaves,” Stone thundered. “They are free and will only help you if you can make it worth their while. How far is it to your castle?”

“My dust heap,” Whojo corrected. “My castle turned to sand when you killed Porthanalos. But I had farms surrounding it to feed my slaves … I mean former slaves. It is about 100 miles from here, walking. I used a bit of magic to get us here sooner to meet you.”

“Send most of your people back to their tasks,” Stone ordered. “It will probably take them five days to get there. Make sure they understand they are free, and that the farms they worked at now belong to them, not you. Say that you will pay for what they produce and also that occasionally you will call on them to provide you with their magic. You will pay 10 silver to draw full power from them. I will leave you to calculate what you will need to charge people for transporting them magically, based on what power will be needed.”

“Kip, see to it,” the little man said, and a nearby man, apparently an advisor, pulled out a pencil and paper.

“No. I am going to have need of that man,” Stone said as a plan started to formulate in his head. Whojo then named another, and Kip handed the pencil and paper to that man.

“I want you to send Kip to another place, far to the west,” Stone said. “How will you know where to send him?”

“Can you draw a map?”

“Wrk!” Stone called, and the tiny fairy flew out of Rayla’s cleavage to the astonishment of all the Kithrens standing around. Stone asked her to draw a map of the western settlement, and she did so, using her foot in the dusty stones to sketch it.

Stone explained how far they had gone each day on the route here to give the man an idea of distances.

“That would take the magic of 600 slaves … or servants,” he said. “Maybe more. Do you see why I need my slaves?”

“No, I don’t. And I will provide you with the magic you need. I still hold much in reserve after slaying Porthanalos. This will be a test of your usefulness. Do it well, and more tasks will follow.” Stone then turned to Kip.

“When you get there, ask around for a man called Kalosun. Everyone there should know him. Let him know that I need him here, and that I will call for him exactly 24 hours after you arrive there. You are to stay there and take over some of Kalo’s duties.”

“What of my family?” Kip asked. “Am I to forsake them?”

“No. They will go with you. Tell Kalo that they are to have my old house. Kalo will have to tell you of his duties. Do you know of any of the old legends and tales of the people?”

Kip looked at his former master, then turned back to his new one. “It was forbidden to study such lore in the past. But I have always be curious and managed to learn from the old ones before they died. I know much.”

Stone now felt confident that he had chosen wisely. Kip ran to get his wife and two young children, both under the age of five. The young girl reminded the big man of Emily at that age, although with a darker complexion. The four huddled together and Whojo started to draw power from Stone. When the family suddenly disappeared the drain of power ended, and Stone was surprised at how little had been used. To Whojo it had been massive, but to Stone it was barely a scratch on the surface of his reserves

Whojo then went among his people and explained their freedom to them and soon most were heading back to their homeland, amazed at the idea that they were now free again. Stone sent up some energy balls to land along the way so that there would be food at the lunch and resting places along the 100-mile march. Whojo kept his former personal slaves, after explaining that they were now his servants. About 10 tested him and said they no longer wanted to work for him and left with the others. The little wizard had to produce a significant amount of gold to get the others to remain with him.

Stone was in a pensive mood as he wondered what he would tell Kalosun tomorrow when his friend was transported from the west. Kalo would be incensed to discover that thousands of his people were living as slaves under the eastern wizard. Whojo had told him that Provo, the final wizard, was much more powerful than Whojo and had many more slaves, using the magic within them to enslave them.

Suddenly, he was shaken from his reverie by the feminine sounds of giggling. He recognized several voices. There was Emily and Rayla of course, and a new familiar sound from Sissy, who now laughed often since gaining her intelligence from the fairies. There was a new voice though, nearly musical like a cascade of tiny bells. And finally, he heard many Kithren women laughing, which he found rewarding so soon after they had been captives.

He looked around to see the source of the merriment, and soon found it. Sissy had dressed Pinky, the bearer of the musical laughter, in newly made clothes. The former centauress now wore a fairly tight top that Stone thought of as a t-shirt that emphasized her large breasts, until the girl turned, and he saw that it had fastenings in the back that ran under the thick red mane that ran down her back. Sissy had cleverly come up with the ties as a way to make it look normal from the front and sides.

She also looked like she was wearing pants, with her ample hips tightly wrapped in a blue cotton that reminded Stone of denim. Again, it looked normal from the front, but at the back Sissy had left a small hole that her tail was pulled through. Said tail was now casually waving back and forth, showing that she was happy with her garments. She also had leather soled slippers on. The girl was still a bit unsteady walking on two legs, so they had no heel at all.

The chatter was from all the women admiring her in her new clothes. At least a dozen of the Kithren women had joined in for the fashion show and were enjoying themselves immensely. Then Stone noticed one no-female approach the group. It was his son Jason who was staring intently at the girl who had become his girlfriend while still a centauress.

“You look beautiful,” he finally said, not seeming to notice the large crowd around him. He felt it was as if only Pinky and he were alone. “More beautiful than even before.”

“Yes, but you cannot ride me anymore,” Pinky said in her musical voice.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jason said, taking the slightly taller girl by the hand and leading her to one of the tents that had been set up. This caused outright laughter from the women watching.

“Don’t you people have something to do,” Stone thundered at the gigglers as they entered the tent. The Kithrens immediately became fearful and scattered. Their experience was that one did not offend a wizard. On the other hand, Emily, Sissy and Rayla merely stifled their giggles and walked away with Stone, allowing Jason and Pinky some privacy.

“Do you approve of the changes?” Stone asked Rayla.

“I do. She is a sweet girl,” the former Dolly announced. Sissy did a wonderful job on the clothes and has several days more work to come up with alternative looks.

“Dresses will be difficult,” the Sissy said with an intelligent look on her face that showed she was already thinking through designs. “The tail is a bit of a problem. I think I can handle it with a skirt though, so a dress shouldn’t be impossible.”

“I think you did a wonderful job,” Stone complimented the girl.

“And I think soon I will have another sister,” Emily noted. She already considered Sissy a natural sister.

“If it happens, it happens,” Stone said, looking at Rayla and seeing no looks indicating she would object to that. “I just wonder if any babies would have a tail?”

Nearing the end of the story.

Chapter 69 – The final battles

Kalosun appeared the next day, and he wasn’t alone. There was a pretty young Kithren woman with him and a 10-year-old boy, clearly her son. Kalo sent them to Rayla and immediately headed off to meet with Stone.

A short battle plan was devised by Stone, Jason, Kalo and Whojo. As Stone had predicted, Kalo nearly went ballistic when he found out that thousands of Kithrens were enslaved in the eastern tower communities. He wanted to go immediately to free his people.

Stone urged caution. He wanted Kalo to minister to the 100 or so former slaves still in the area for a few days. Whojo sketched out a map of the eastern area. There was a town along the shore where a river entered the ocean. Other communities were along the river until it reached the hill where the third tower was located. Stone had worked out that the wizard Provo derived his power from his people, enslaving them while drawing power from them. Kalo would be key to his plan. Get into a population center and preach to the people, freeing them of slavery. The town on the shore seemed the best place to start.

“You, Whojo, will send Jason, Kalosun and myself there, and we will start in four days,” Stone said.

“I’m not going anywhere without Pinky,” Jason avowed with all the energy of a 15-year-old in love.

“And you will not go without me and my bow,” Rayla said. She had left Kalo’s girlfriend with Sissy, Pinky and Emily and had moved close enough to hear the war plans.

“Are you planning to leave Doug here?” Jason asked.

“Of course not,” Stone said. “I need him.”

“We might as well bring the girls too, then,” Stone conceded in defeat. “Sissy, Emily, Pinkie, and who is the new girl?”

“Rytha,” Rayla said. “She seems very nice, Kalo. And her son Keem is very polite.”

Whojo gulped. Nine people and a very big horse. That would be quite an amount to transport. Also perhaps he could send them in two lots. But he realized that bringing Kalo back had been much easier than sending Kip out with his family. Using his power seemed to increase its potential. Stone had an almost unlimited (to Whojo) amount of magic. Perhaps he could gain more capabilities by stretching himself this way.

The war party broke up, and Kalo went to a small rise and started to preach. At first only a few idlers listened, but then more and more stopped what they were doing and started to listen. Kalo told them of their heritage and the people swelled with pride. They were no longer former slaves: they were Kithrens, a proud and noble people.

Keem stood next to Kalo and acted as an altar boy. This was how they had met in the western town. It was only later that Kalo learned that the boy’s mother was a widow, and soon she was keeping house for him, and later warming his bed.

While this was happening, Stone trickled power into Whojo so the magic would not incapacitate the wizard with a huge surge. He also got Wrk to fly out and find Arthur, telling him to signal to the ship that it should head to the eastern town.

It was several hours later that Rayla let out a little shriek of delight. She had made contact with her familiar again, after days apart. She told Stone that Arthur had successfully got the ship to head east with a full load of fish. The eagle was now going to roam along the coast and see the town on the shore and provide Rayla with a more precise map of the area.

Thus, three days later a fully charged Whojo was ready to transport the group into the center of the town square. Minutes later they all disappeared from the launching position, and Whojo was free to return to the area where his tower had been. His servants accompanied him, leaving about 50 people in the small village along the trade route.

“It worked,” Whojo thought. Such a large group did not incapacitate him. Rather it had strengthened him.

Stone felt a small degree of disorientation when the terrain around them changed. One second they had been in a rural clearing, and the next they were in what looked like a town square of a small village, with people staring at the people, including a near giant on a huge horse, who had suddenly appeared in their midst.

It took a few minutes for the travelers to regain their balance, and in that time two armed Kithrens strode towards them. About 20 feet away they drew their swords and ordered Stone to dismount. Instead he drew Pate, who quickly separated the men’s heads from their shoulders.

A woman near a hut screamed at the instant violence. “Why did you do that?” she cried out. “Now the wizard will send an army and destroy the town.”

That was Kalosun’s cue. He stood on a wooden box and started to preach, telling the people within earshot that they were Kithrens, and not slaves to anyone, man or wizard. For about five minutes the people listened with blank faces, but then people started to believe, and the faces went from bland to angry.

Soon all 300 people in the village were surrounding Kalosun and angrily denouncing the wizard. Even the woman who had cried out at first. But Kalo continued his sermon.

“The wizard will feel the loss of these slaves,” Stone said. “Even now he is sending out a patrol to try and bring the village back under his control. It is up to us to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

With Arthur notifying Rayla of the oncoming group of about 100 armed Kithrens coming from a larger town to the north, the group set up in a favorable position to intercept them. There was Stone and Doug at the front, with Rayla off to the side with her bow. Jason stood near Stone, after forcefully ordering Pinkie to the rear with the other girls. Kalosun did not participate in the battle but continued to preach so that the arriving soldiers could not use the wizard’s magic to reconvert the villagers.

When the soldiers arrived, they stopped in a wide circle and started to chant. They fought on foot, but it was apparent that they were just providing a protective circle around two old man in the back, who were leading the chants. Clearly it was an effort to re-enslave the villagers through wizardly magic. Rayla put an end to that with arrows killing each of the two old men. Eighteen more arrows cut down others in the party as she emptied her quiver. By the time it had refilled itself the battle was over, with Stone and Jason wreaking havoc on the remaining soldiers. Finally, with about 10 men left, the Kithrens broke and ran, heading back to the north. Rayla managed to put arrows into the backs of eight of the fleeing men, but two escaped.

“Missed two, dammit,” Rayla said, upset that two survivors would return to tell the tale of the battle.

“Doesn’t matter,” Stone said. “The wizard was probably watching the whole thing take place through the eyes of his soldiers. He now knows what he is facing.”

The group headed back to where Kalo was preaching. Seeing them approach, he stopped his sermon. At that instant every person surrounding him fell to the ground in supplication. Stone noticed something odd about them now. They were all gaunt and emaciated, reminding him of pictures he had seen of concentration camp victims from the war back on Earth. Apparently, the wizard was tapping all of their strength, and feeding it back to them. When his magic was gone, their apparent strength disappeared as well.

“These people need food,” Rayla said. She and the girls started doling out fruit and rolls from the supply wagon. Stone and Jason headed to the largest buildings in town. One had a small train of wagons lined up outside.

“That is food,” one of the men said. The wagons were headed north to a collection station in the bigger town. Stone ordered the most fit of the Kithrens to set up cook stoves, and sides of beef started to roast. The warehouses alongside were broken into and other foodstuffs were liberated and eagerly enjoyed by the starving people. They each had a small meal before the meat was ready, and then ate beef for the first time in years.

“It was touch and go for a few seconds near the beginning,” Kalo said explaining what he saw. “I could feel them wavering from whatever power was being used. A couple nearly broke, but then I felt it snap back together. They are stronger than before. I don’t think they will fall back into slavery no matter what is done to them.”

That was good, because Stone wanted to go to the other town, which Arthur reported as being 10,000 people, located 10 miles away. But first they had to tend to the slaves. The biggest chore was preventing people from overeating until they sickened. But Kalo’s word was powerful to them, and when he spoke, everyone obeyed without even thinking of it. They spent three days watching the people increase their physical strength to match their new mental strengths.

Finally it was time to move on. It took almost three hours to walk to the next town. Kalo brought four or five acolytes from the village. Most of the other people went about their normal lives, although walking proud that they were no longer slaves.

At the big town Kalo and his acolytes started to preach. Only six soldiers came out, and two of them were the men who had been at the earlier battle. “Three days and they didn’t send another army,” Stone mused. “They must fear us.”

Stone, Jason and Rayla each killed two men, Rayla getting the pair who had escaped her earlier. It was over in seconds, and people in that area again showed fear that the wizard would strike with retribution.

But Kalo started preaching and soon had a crowd of 1000 around him. He slowly started to walk out of the town and the crowd followed until he had all 10,000 around him in a field. He talked longer this time: there was no battle for the men’s souls to strengthen them. So he did it the hard way, preaching, telling stories, singing songs until he was certain that they were no longer susceptible to slavery magic.

It took another three days to restore these people as well. This town was a collection point for the goods that the slaves were forced to produce. Some warehouses held seemingly useless good like spices, fabrics and trinkets. But more than enough contained food, allowing the thousands to eat a good meal for the first time in their lives.

This continued for several weeks, with the group visiting other towns, liberating them, then tending to the material and spiritual needs of the freed people.

“Something has to happen soon,” Stone told Jason one day. “We have freed over 50,000. That has to be an eighth to a tenth of his support. He cannot continue to lose power like that. He is getting weaker and I am getting stronger. He has to act. I just wonder what he will do.?

Sorry for this taking so long. I have been procrastinating on my store Sunny and not procrastinating enough on this one.

Chapter 70 – penultimate chapter

There was no final battle. Kalo and Stone ranged through the territory, going from town to town, but the last wizard refused to fight. Eventually Stone felt a pop, and Kalo came and told him that it was all over. The wizard had lost slave after slave, and finally had popped out of existence. It was all over. The eastern country had far more Kithrens than either of the other areas, but there was little starvation. As each area had been cleared there had been storehouses of food that were used to feed the underfed population. The land was rich and lush, and without the wizard stealing all the food, the people were able to eat their fill.

Kalo called Jason after one of his sermons, and the younger boy came forth, with Stone watching. “There are foretellings of this current time in the old myths and stories,” Kalo said. “Apparently, I am the prophet, sent to free the people. And the stories say that my son will be acclaimed the king of the Kithrens. That is you. The next King of all the Kithrens.”

Jason was clearly knocked back by this revelation. “But I don’t want to be king of anything,” he finally said. “Get someone else.”

“But the prophecy says it will be you,” Kalo insisted, “You must do it.”

“No.” Jason insisted. “I don’t want to be a king. I want to be a sailing captain. The prophecy says your son, not me by name. Get Keem to do it.”

“Rytha is my wife now,” Kalo answered. “And Keem is her son. But he is not my son. You are.”

“And I say no. Have a child with Rytha. She is young enough. You can rule as the prophet until she has one old enough. I will die if I can’t go to sea.”

That led the three men over to the women. Kalo explained the problem, hoping that Rytha or one of the others could convince Jason to obey his wishes. Then Rytha dropped a bombshell. “I have not had a period for nearly three months, since coming from the other lands. I may be pregnant.”

Kalo immediately got an excited look on his face. He took a hand and laid it on his new wife’s stomach, then got a huge grin. “It is a boy,” he announced. Then his face darkened. “But is it mine?”

“I didn’t lie with a man for over a year before you came into my life,” the black woman said. “It must be yours.” The smile reappeared on Kalo’s face.

A second later Emily made a low moan. She had recently come of age, and was suffering from her monthly moon visitor, probably the third or fourth one she had experienced.

Then Rayla, Stone’s woman, looked at her adopted daughter sympathetically. Then her eyes widened. “I have never had one of those,” she announced. “Yet I was changed into a true woman several months ago. Shouldn’t that happen to me?”

“Well,” Rytha said. “Emily has not been with a man. Have you?”

Rayla’s eyes widened. “Yes. Stone of course. And it has been so much better since I changed.”

“It is possible that you are with child as well, then,” Rayla said.

“Oh my,” the former dolly said.

“Do you wish me to check?” Kalo asked. Rayla nodded yes, and the prophet put his hand on her lower stomach.

“Yes, you have a daughter coming. Not as far along as my and Rytha’s son, but definitely a child. You will not feel the blessing of the moon goddess until after your child is born.”

Emily squealed in joy, forgetting all about her cramps. “I’m going to have a sister? A baby sister?” She ran to hug the woman who she only knew as her mother, then turned to her brother and hugged him as well.

Of course, things happen in threes so often, but it was nearly two days later when Pinky noted she had also not had a visit from the moon goddess since being returned to near-human form. Kalo also inspected her and discovered that she was carrying a son and should give birth at about the same time as Rayla.

This left Stone with a dilemma. The wizards had been conquered, and Kalo was establishing control over the Kithrens of the east through his preaching. He no longer needed Stone’s military prowess. In fact, many Kithrens seemed to want to see the white people gone soon. The ship was here and could be loaded with a rich cargo of spices in only a few weeks. The gold in the hold would pay for the cargo and provide an income Kalo needed to grease the economy of his land.

But did Stone want to travel with two pregnant females? Jason was outraged at the idea of spending six months or more ashore until after the babies were born and noted that sailing with small babies would probably be worse than with the children in the womb.

“But it took us nearly two years to cross the ocean,” Stone told his son. “The babies would still spend their first year at sea. And with Kalo staying here, who will birth the children?”

“Not necessarily,” Jason countered. “I have an idea for some modifications for the ship that might make the journey home. I could have the work done while the cargo is loaded. We might even be back to Lakeport before the women come to term. If not … well women gave birth for generations before midwives and doctors. It is a natural process.”

Finally, Jason won his father over and the sailing date for the ship was set for the following month. Cargo would start to be loaded immediately from the small wharf on the coast, and Jason started to work with the carpenter on the modifications.

At first the older sailor raised countless objections to Jason’s plan. Even when the boy explained the logic behind it, the carpenter pointed out that” “It would look silly” and “It just isn’t done.”

Jason’s plan was to add a “hurricane” spar under the main sails, only a few feet above the deck. When sailing in severe winds, a captain would gradually cut back on sails, first the mainsails, then the topsails and gallants, and finally just leave the sky sails at the top of each mast. These sails were essential if the ship was to be controlled in the wind. No sails at all equaled no steering and the ship would bob about at the mercy of the storm.

The problem with the small sky sails was their position at the top of the mast. If the winds were hurricane force, they would be tossed about like rags on a stick and often could pull down a mast if the winds were strong enough. And it was nearly impossible to trim sails so high up on a wildly swaying mast.

The hurricane sails would not be used normally and would only be lowered when the mainsails were shortened. When all other sails were shortened, the hurricane sails would allow the ship to be steered and with their location at the base of the masts instead of the tops they could easily be trimmed as needed. There would be less strain on the masts even in winds that would snap masts with sky sails.

The carpenter got some backing in his opinions when sailors helping load the cargo came up to see the odd spars just eight feet from the deck. They laughed and called them swab sails, suggesting that sails on the low spars would be able to swab the decks.

Jason merely barked at the idlers and sent them back to work lading. If his idea didn’t work, he would accept their jokes and gibes, but until it was tested, he was adamant that it would be put into effect. He assigned several sailors to cut apart a spare main sail to create sales for the three hurricane sails and stitch them up. He himself sat and studied the new spars to determine what lines and ropes were needed to control it. Again, without seeing them in operation it involved a lot of guesswork to determine how to rig the spars. But it seemed that many fewer lines would be needed, since the spars were low enough that taller sailors would be able to touch the spars from the deck. Jason, of course, would be too short.

†his ends this tale. No further episodes are planned.

Stone – Final Chapter

Chapter 71 – The voyage home

On the day the ship was ready to sail Stone assembled the crew on deck to make an announcement. “We are making a few changes in the command of the ship. We appoint Kullan as the new third mate. First and second mates remain as before, but the third mate Jason is named captain due to his remarkable accomplishments in the late war.” A cheer went up from the crew: they clearly were in favor of the change. “Finally,” Stone continued, former captain Keenstone is now admiral of this fleet of one. Two when we meet up with Moon Goddess after we cross the ocean.” Another cheer, but this one seemed less to Rayla, who stood in the rear to see her son promoted to captain.

“All right you lot,” Jason shouted. “You all know where to go. Get there and let’s get this tub out where it belongs.

The first four weeks were peaceful, and the crew and passengers fell into a routine. Pinky and Rayla continued to suffer morning sickness, which had started when they were on shore. Emily tended to look after them. Sissy was now considered a real beauty by the crew, but she spent most of her time in the cabin, writing a book about the voyage so far. She had been accosted by sailors several times when she was out of the cabin, but she remembered her old life and refused to be taken. Five sailors went under the lash for attempting to bed her, and Jason made sure they were real lashes, not the light ones that had been used in the past. Soon all the sailors knew that she was Jason’s sister just as much as Emily, who hadn’t met the same abuse due to her younger age. Sissy became a mascot of the crew, and anyone expressing impure thoughts was soon blacklisted by the others in the crew. She was able to smile and be friendly with everyone without fear of her good-natured flirting going any further.

It was Sissy who pointed out the odd looking sunset to Jason. “Look, that looks just like the sunrise we saw before the hurricane.” The young captain looked at the red sky and realized that it was a hurricane, but approaching from the west, not the east. He immediately ran to the forecastle and had the bosun whistle “storm watch.”

The ship was carrying full sails and was clipping along at a good pace that Jason felt would get them to Lakeport in nine or ten months. He watched the waves carefully through the night. He had hoped they would be able to stay ahead of hurricane season, but it was not to be. A dark dawn tried to break through the approaching storm, but merely lightened the skies to a dark and scary grey. Jason had already brought in the mainsails and called out the new hurricane sails. He would soon see if his idea worked. He steered away from the storm, heading east but the waves were now cresting the ship and the men moved from one position to another only while holding onto guide ropes.

Jason decided it would soon be dangerous to go aloft, so he sent crews up to trim the topsails, gallants and skysails. When the men were down, he noticed that the ship was more stable without sails on the upper masts, and the ship still steered well with the wind in the hurricane sails. His invention was not perfect, however. When a wave crested over the ship the low sails gathered up the water and momentarily were unable to be controlled. Jason saw that if the hurricane sails were about three feet higher this problem would not occur. He also noticed that the effect was minimized by running with the waves, so big waves were split around the stern of the ship, pushing if forward without filling the sails.

He continued to stay to the side of the storm. Without the hurricane sails the ship probably would have been demasted by now and sucked into the middle of the storm. But with the new control he had they stayed at the edge of the storm and ran alongside it for three days before it passed them entirely.

---- ---

Jason was nearly awake as he stroked the soft curves of the person sleeping next to him. It was only when his hand felt the hair of her tail that he realized he was spooning Pinky, who was just starting to show a baby bump. Fully awake, Jason sat up.

“Good sleep, love?” his partner asked.

“Yes. The ship, it seems to be riding well. The storm …?”

“Over. You came to bed about 18 hours ago when it was abating. You were up for 72 hours straight.”

Actually, he had come into the cabin for four hours midway through the storm, leaving the admiral in charge. But Pinky had been asleep when he came to bed, and still asleep when he went back out. She didn’t know he had been there.

He got up and pulled on his bell bottoms, leaned over and kissed Pinky on the lips, and then bent again to kiss the bump. Then he was gone.

The seas were calm, and the hurricane sails were down, and the ship was clipping along at a fast pace with all the other sails up. He hurried to the captain’s cabin where the admiral was puzzled over a chart.

“Jason, thank goodness you are up,” Keenstone said. “We need your navigational skills. I can’t make sense of the readings I took at noon yesterday. It was at the end of the storm, so perhaps I messed up the readings.

“It is nearly noon,” Jason said. “Let me take a reading with the sextant and we will plot our position.

After making his siting Jason sat down and did the math. He went to place a pin on the chart and saw it was near to another pin. “That is what my plot was from yesterday,” Keenstone said. “But it can’t be right. That is where we should be in a month, not three days.”

Jason stared at the map and finally came to a conclusion. “It is where we would have sailed in a month, but we had a hurricane pushing us along. I think the storm just took a month off our trip.”

Over the next few days it became clear that they had made great progress in the storm, with little damage to the ship. The carpenters made the few minor repairs in a day and then Jason had them raised the hurricane spars three feet up on the masts. His idea had worked, and only needed fine tuning.

The ship plodded along for another two weeks until there was a call from the crow’s nest. There was a red sky again: in the north this time. The crew, barely recovered from the last hurricane, was called to storm watch again.

For four days this time the storm blew. The improved hurricane sails worked better, and Jason managed to keep the ship at the edge of the storm again. When the storm ended the plots showed another month or five weeks had been saved by the push of the winds.

A third hurricane nearly a month later only lasted two days. It was curving to the west and Jason veered away to the east and Lakeport. It saved another few weeks and when the seas calmed, they were only a week away from the port.

“We could have ridden that one right to Westport,” Jason told Stone.

“Better we dock in Lakeport,” Stone said. “We can sell a bit of the cargo there. And Doug is getting antsy on board again. He would not appreciate it if you bypassed a chance for him to get his hooves on the ground again. I will ride him to Westport with one of the cargo trains. I wonder if we will beat you in the ship.”

“You won’t if I can pick up another hurricane,” the young captain said, knowing there was no chance of another storm so soon after the last one.

In Lakeport some cargo was unloaded, but only after Doug was unloaded and ran full speed through the town the moment his hooves touched the dock. He came back an hour later, sweaty from his run. Meanwhile the cargo had been unloaded, and a midwife was found to tend to the very pregnant women on board. There was a huge crowd around the ship, rumored to have been lost at sea, and Stone had to make speeches and meet with the mayor.

Eventually the big man got on the big horse, still anxious to run, and they headed out to catch a wagon train that had left that morning. Jason pulled his ship out when the tide turned and started sailing to Westport on the coastal route.

Two days later he was walking near the owner’s cabin when he heard the cry of a baby. He dashed to the rooms only to find out that it was his new sister, and not his son. That came the next day. He held the young lad up and found it perfect in every way. No sign of a tail.

Two days later they docked. Stone had arrived two days earlier and found the town much changed in the two years he had been away. The little jeweller had tended his money well, and it had grown by nearly half. The man had started lending it out at interest to people with business ideas, or to build homes. In effect he had started a bank, Stone realized, and only about 20 percent of the gold remained in the storeroom. The availability of easy credit had led to the boom in the town. There was money to start new businesses and both Kithrens and whites had taken advantage. There was also a building boom in houses, both in the Kitchren style and the conventional.

Stone picked up a small bag of gold from the new bank and opened an account for each of the men on the crew of the Sun Goddess, depositing 50 gold into each account. He then headed down to the wharf when he heard that the ship was coming in. The men were lined up at the gangway, eager to get back on shore after two years away from town. Rayla was at the front, holding her new daughter.

Before allowing the men to disembark, Stone came on board after asking his son’s permission. He got a first look at his new daughter and gave the little bundle a kiss. Then he turned to address the anxious men: “I promised you all a healthy bonus when we completed this journey. However, much has changed in the town. Most of your bonus now resides in something called a bank. It is safe in there, and it is your money. You can head out and redeem it immediately if you want. But I suggest you leave it there until you have decided how you wish to spend it. There is enough there to provide a down payment on a farm or a small business if you wish. I know Jason is hoping for many of you to come back for the next trip across the ocean, but if you opt otherwise, you now have capital. I will give you one gold each for spending money. Please avoid the gamblers and thieves. You also have 50 more gold in the bank.”

With that men started to leave, with Stone paying each man a gold as he left the ship. Few of the men had wives or girlfriends so headed for the bars. Last to leave was Jason, who introduced Stone to his grandson. Pinky accompanied her man and took the five gold that Stone put into the boy’s hand. Rayla was already standing on the pier, with Sissy and Emily standing behind, making faces at the baby, who unfortunately was sleeping in her mother’s arms.

As the little family walked down the street towards their house a carriage pulled alongside. “Need a ride, gov’nor?” an older Kithren driver asked. It was one of the new businesses in town, a taxicab. Stone helped his family in and gave the driver four coppers to make the short run to the house.

“When will you sail again?” Stone asked, knowing his son would want to head out to sea again.

“It will depend on how many sign up for the trip,” Jason said. “If I can get more than half a crew with experience, either from this trip or from the coastal ships or whalers I suspect we could leave in a month. There isn’t much to be done to the ship in the drydock. Now that I know the secret of the hurricanes, I hope we can make a round trip in under a year. These spices will bring a good dollar and will make a good trade. We can supply hardwoods to the other side, as well as whale oil.”

“I spoke to our depot agent down here yesterday,” Stone said. “He is eager to get a new wagon or two to take spices north. They will complement the whale oil that has been the bulk of the trade so far. Apparently Three Rivers and Greenwood have grown a bit, and Greenstone is now bigger than Westport.”

They were at the house and Cass ran out eagerly. She was now married to Keeper, the man who had abandoned ship with Captain Snow, and they had four children: orphaned preschool strays they had adopted over the past two years. There was thus some rearranging of the houses, with Stone deciding that his family would move into the old school next door. Cass would only agree if the family promised to eat meals at the house.

Jason did sail a month later. Rayla was not too upset at his departure, knowing he would return. Plus she had another little voice to deal with. Pinky sailed with him, not willing to wait a year to see him again. Their little boy joined them, and they sailed in the owner’s cabin. The sailors approved. Over the trip out a rumor spread that touching Pinky’s tail was good luck for the sailors and she didn’t mind, so long as nothing else was touched. By the time they sighted land, every man had stroked her tail at least once.

Sissy, now one of the most beautiful white women in town was courted heavily, but spurned all offers, particularly those from men who had teased her before her transformation. She spent most of her time in working her diary of the voyage into a book. She sent excerpts out to the newspapers (there were now four in the larger towns) on the proviso that each paper send 100 copies free of charge to the local schools.

After her book was published (it went through five printings) Sissy took an idea Rayla told her about and started a library in Westport, followed by similar institutions in other towns as soon as she could convince the town councils to fund them.

Emily was still young, and her father tended to intimidate suitors. But she did date, and eventually became engaged to a young man who had a farm north of town.

Doug was thrilled to find that his lifespan would be that of a human, not a horse, and thus was breeding with mares for many years, watching his children grow old and die as he remained young. The same trait occurred for Arthur and the bird became a common sight in Westport, usually keeping an eye on Rayla’s new children (eventually five).

Stone remained an important businessman, and after a few years he was appointed the Westport representative to the Duchy council travelling up to Greenstone for several months of each year.