Foost turned his head towards young Pagward and rolled his eyes: “Seven I make that!”

Pagward put on a quizzical look as he said: “Hmmmm. Really? I must have missed one.”

This conversation, conducted as an aside, did nothing for the red and purple complexion of the man who had just asked Foost a question. A question to which he had yet to receive a reply.

Foost turned his head once more and pointedly examined the man from his shoes up to the top of his head before replying; “I do not know WHO you are but I do know WHAT you are.”

The man spluttered in indignation but Foost gave him no respite. “You are a self-centred blowhard; a braggart and a bully with potentially grave hearing problems. Which part of ‘The Margrave is not to be disturbed at this moment’ did you fail to understand?”

“Well I have never been spoken …”

“Then perhaps you should have been!” he interrupted swiftly. “You are the 7th …” he sneered the next word “… person … to attempt to bluster their way in this forenoon. You may go and sit with those that remain in that room over there which has been designated as a hospitality room; a room in which those like you without an appointment can wait, or you may return whence you came. I would add that on occasion pel is served there, but not on demand.”

“I shall see you are punished for …”

Foost again interrupted the tirade by simply turning once more to Pagward and saying: “Four.”

The man made a fist and drew it back but his face paled as the fist was caught from behind and a sword appeared at his neck. The guard growled: “I heard the Master tell you that the Margrave is not to be disturbed – and I heard that he did so three times. My duty requires me to protect all those in His Grace’s employ.” He smiled grimly and indeed menacingly. “It is up to me how I interpret the word ‘protect’. You now have an additional choice – the hospitality room, home, or a visit to, or perhaps from, a healer. I would prefer not to have to continue my day with a smiting, but the choice is entirely yours.”

The man’s belligerence was swift to drain away and finally the guard released the fist. The man huffed and puffed, twitched his clothing and strode over to the head of the stairs going down to the ground floor, muttering veiled threats which no-one could actually understand.

A peace of sorts descended on the ante-chamber. There was a low murmur from the three voices in the hospitality room, an occasional cough or throat clearing from one or other of the guards, a few sniffs and the like.

After nearly a quarter bell of this, a young uniformed man appeared at the top of the flight of stairs that came up from the large entrance hall below. The youth came directly across to Foost. He whispered something into Foost’s ear, saluted briefly and turned on his heel before swiftly making for the stairs to go back down. A moment or two later, a set of footfalls could be heard ascending those open stairs accompanied by a low murmur of voices.

Two quite scruffy-looking individuals appeared in the hallway and looked around. Foost indicated to them which door they should approach and said simply: “Vessel-master Volod?”

A swift nod was the simple reply and Foost opened the door to the Margrave’s offices. The deep bass tones of the leader’s voice emerged but not loud enough for anyone outside to make out the actual words. The voice shut off abruptly and then continued, this time distinctly: “If that isn’t Volod, heads will roll!”

“It is he, Your Grace,” called Foost as he closed the door behind the two newcomers.

Which event caused a miniature eruption of annoyed voices from the waiting room, the three men all talking at the same time.

“How come they get in? I am more important than them!”
“I was here first. I should be in there.”
“But my business is of the utmost urgency!”

Pagward walked over to the doorway to their room and held up a hand. He was surprised (but took care not to show that) when he was granted immediate silence.

“I may be young, and I may be learning my way, but there is one thing I fail to understand. Mayhap you can explain it to me?”

The three inmates all looked at him expectantly.

“Whence comes your arrogance? Who are you, any one of you, to try to determine the Margrave’s priorities and indeed his schedule? Do you know all the myriad of details that he must deal with? His time limits for certain results? No, you do not! And yet you have decided that you are the ones to choose who goes into see him. I shall make sure that he knows of this just as soon as I – who you may remember actually works directly for him – am allowed in there. I can assure you that he will not be amused and I dare say you shall have to toil even harder to persuade him to your point of view.”

Pagward watched the three carefully and silently remarked the single one of them that began to look a little ashamed.

… … …

“Very well, Vessel-master Volod.” he gave a wry little grin and an actual small laugh as he continued: “Strictly speaking, I suppose you could be called a Craft-master which might make some in our Guilds uncomfortable! You are hereby appointed the State’s Vessel’s Captain. We shall depart in just a little under a month’s time. We shall need to have a vessel suitable for a rapid passage and also a very clear and identifiable large standard that we might pass unhindered through what is, after all, still a war zone.”

“And the size of your vessel, Your Grace? How many people shall we be transporting?”

“Ah! I had not fully thought of that, I had merely got as far as thinking that a boat would be required. What sort of boat would have to be the choice of whoever I appointed as State Captain.”

He passed then into a deeply pensive mode, from which he emerged even as he started speaking again, with several pauses as he went along: “Allow me please to work backwards! I shall calculate first from those I shall require in Palarand.

“There shall be myself, of course, and, if I am interpreting all these signals and messages correctly, …” he gestured at a piled-up table with the hugest mound of parchments the Craftmaster had ever seen, “… I shall require yourself and two senior military officers to evaluate most of what appears to be becoming available. So that makes four.

“Then I really should have an honour guard of … let’s say eight men in all. Totals twelve.

“But the Palace in Palarand is not on the river, so I shall require to hire frayen and saddles and a carriage and driver in which to arrive which shall mean that your … let’s call it the ‘State Barge’ for the moment … shall need to remain at some riverport or other. This in turn will require at least four more guards for that - to look after the vessel, that is, along with your crew members. So that’s sixteen. Plus your crew. How many would that be, State Captain?”

Volod rapidly calculated: “We would need a cook - who could actually, now I think on it, also double as a quartermaster - and then we would also need a general steward to keep things stowed tidily and to arrange other matters whilst I am doing other things, like keeping us afloat!” He grinned then, an engaging grin that entirely altered his face. “Plus at least three crew to keep us moving along, Lagref …” he indicated his companion, “… shall be my ‘number two’ and I shall need two others for rope handling and looking out and so on and then an additional quartet to help with the rowing, probably used more on the way back, although I expect the hard rowing to be only on a few occasions since – but I must stress that this is in general – the wind normally blows the right way for us to be driven upstream. But first we have to get downstream. I would assume that some of your guard cadre could assist with rowing should it become necessary?”

The Margrave nodded his assent even as he said: “Assuming they are not needed for any fighting at the time, then they shall of course be available for your use.”

Volod continued somewhat musingly: “If we are in no hurry for the return, then that wind will be our greatest boon.” He stopped then, obviously going over in his mind what he had just said. His eyes suddenly flew open again. “Oh, and we shall need a pilot. I deem I shall have sufficient knowledge to get us to, and maybe just past, Yod, but after that my abilities as a pilot shall be negligible.”

He counted rapidly on his fingers. “So, without me, since I am already included in your total, that’s another ten. Lagref, two crew, four oarsmen, cook, steward and a pilot.”

“Reasonable, it would appear. So we would need accommodation for twenty-six bodies then. So the vessel must be large enough for all those, plus all the baggages and the supplies. And the arms. Can you think of aught else?”

“Not right at this moment, Your Grace.”

“Then let us make plans for say thirty in all, lest we must accommodate guests for part of or all of the way – although I confess I can at this moment not conceive of any such circumstances that might occur. I would suggest that the majority of us shall sleep ashore on most of the nights; the river still has such riverports aplenty, I am led to believe, despite the ongoing war?”

“With your standards flying, I am sure we would be welcomed in most places, Your Grace,” he then added a little cynically, “but probably at a jumped up price!”

The Margrave wryly grinned in acknowledgement. “Now the question arises as to the type of vessel. I must leave that up to you to decide, Captain. I should imagine that a normal barge would be too solid, too cumbersome?”

“And yet ’twould provide far more comfort, Your Grace.” He thought briefly before concluding: “So be it, Your Grace. I will get started immediately this afternoon. After all, a month is a VERY tight schedule for all that must be done. Lagref here can start hunting out the crewmen for the voyage, since we shall only want the very best for your service, while I search for a suitable vessel and the team we shall require to refit it.” Almost to himself, and obviously once again deep in thought, he murmured: “’Tis a shame that no Yussuf vessel is available at the moment. They apparently are all downriver, if not under the river’s surface.”

“Yussuf vessel?” asked Simbran which brought Volod back to the present with a start. “You mean Yussuf with the boathouse just downriver at Dymyr’s Lagoon?”

“Just so - the shipping and trading man, Your Grace. You may recall that probably he was, before the war, the foremost name in Faralmark’s long tradition of shipping and trading, although he has always tried to humbly keep himself in the background. He designed some special craft, very similar to a barge but faster and more nimble. He had them built downriver, in Smordan I seem to remember, where they used a better wood than he could obtain here. So successful were these vessels that many of us have attempted to copy them. They make the loading and unloading so much more efficient as well as the handling.” He paused then, a solemn look once more descending on his features. “But I am led to understand that they have all disappeared since the war began, like so many other of our vessels – and our crews!” He added the last phrase somewhat bitterly. “One of those, I deem, would have been almost perfect for this forthcoming voyage. Ruefully, I have not the time to get one of those built!”

… … …

A similar scene with Foost and Pagward repeated itself the next time Volod visited the Margrave’s Fortress. He was waved in without delay, much to the chagrin of those waiting and hoping to see the ruler.

“Thank you, Captain. You have done well. As you can see …” he waved an arm at the overflowing table the Margrave used as a message repository “… the messages and plans and decisions I must make are relentless, so I regret I shall not have time to visit the ship, not even for the naming ceremony. We MUST however depart in a week’s time. If there is any change to that, I shall hasten a message to your good self.”

… … …

“I hereby name this vessel the ’Spirit of Bibek’.”

A chorus of ‘Heard and Witnessed’s almost drowned out the noise of the ceremonial and simultaneous smashing of the three pottery wine mugs - one at the stern, on the top of the rudder post, one at the foot of one of the masts and one on the bowpost that the sailors amongst them called ‘the stem’.

Master Volod turned to the man who had done the naming: “Thank you, Harbourmaster. It was kind of you to stand in for the Margrave at almost the last moment but he regrets he has far too much to do in the limited time he has available.”

“Quite understandable, Volod, if what I have just this morning heard is true. It would appear that the Yodans have yesterday fled from Upper Fanir, all except a small part of their army which was deployed to protect any incursions from the Upper Fanir uplands. Part of our forces have been diverted to make sure these last are held where they are, whilst the majority have hastened after the retreating Yodans to the choke point that marks the beginning of Lower Fanir.”

“That is so, I deem. We must now rush this good vessel down to Faralan to pick up some of the senior soldiery that have marched so swiftly down there.”

“And then onto Palarand, I hear?”

“Indeed so. Hence the so-early start this morn. I am to take the Spirit down to Dymyr’s Lagoon – the one where the three boathouses are – to there load the men and all the stuff that the Margrave shall need on this … procession, I suppose. Those stores are being delivered there now even as we speak, and it is not yet … oh, I lie … it is now exactly the first bell of the day.”

“You have chosen well, I deem. A ‘Houario’ boat seems to be the right combination of size, speed, manoeuvrability and sturdiness.”

Volod started at the Harbourmaster’s accurate use of the name of the type of vessel, a name that came down from the days of the Habaran Empire. He smiled widely as he said in reply: “I have not heard that correct term for many a moon! Nowadays the name has been corrupted by the less well educated to be a Hooray Boat.”

“I shall give you an ‘Hooray’ as well as priority then when you are ready to leave, to ensure the minimum of delay.”

“Grateful, Harbourmaster. Most grateful.”

… … …

“Place that there, and the other in an equivalent position on the other side of the barge. We must keep things balanced. That’s why we created the so-called ‘cabin’ layout that we have.” Namba ran his experienced eye over the working ‘labourers’.

But after barely three breaths, all activity ceased as the men saluted and bowed to the Margrave who had now stepped onto the boat unannounced. He acknowledged them with a wave of the hand and then turned to Captain Volod: “Good freshness, Captain. Allow me to introduce my guards. Leading them is Twick Joot …” the Margrave pointed to the young file leader, “… and behind him, from left to right we have Blades Bokes, Heen and Wennes. We will be picking up more soldiery when we arrive in Faralan.”

All the men acknowledged each other as the Margrave turned back to Volod: “Talking of which … you have done well this morn. But, as we know, time is pressing. Shall we still have time to load all that …” he used an arm to indicate the great pile of boxes and crates that still littered the jetty “… and reach Faralan tomorrow evening?”

“’Twill be quite tight, Your Grace. But, if you give permission to your four soldiers here to row with us when it becomes necessary, I deem we shall make it. Other vessels may curse us as we race down the centre of the current, but with the stream and the broad sails, as well as the rowing, we should progress most swiftly.”

“How may I be of assistance?”

“I couldn’t ask you to do such menial tasks, Your Gr…”

“Nonsense man. Speed is of the essence. Now, let me carry that crate there. Where shall I place it?”

Captain Volod was about to reply when a fresh thought struck him. “Er … If it pleases you, Your Grace?”

“You have a question, Volod?”

“When we reach Faralan. Shall you require that any of we of the crew shall accompany you? Or shall just you and your Blades be away from the Spirit for a while?”

“I don’t know exactly, but I expect to be in one or more quite intense meetings with whoever is in authority there nowadays, so I doubt any of your crewmen will be dragged ashore.”

“In that case, Your Grace, then I believe we may simply load everything on the jetty onto the upper deck here of our boat, and we can use the time of an evening while we are moored wherever we shall be to unpack and stow more accurately. Namba here is our on-board ‘housemaster’ and shall ensure the load is coarsely sorted even as we toil here. Ask him for the destination of any crate!”

“A splendid thought, Captain. Let’s do that. So for now, we just need to clear the jetty.” So saying, the Margrave stripped off his doublet, handed it to Namba, and leapt easily back onto the jetty to pick up a waiting crate.

“Hold!” commanded the ship’s captain who quickly clapped his hands to gain attention from everyone. He wished to make what he considered to be a very important point. “But that does not mean we can just toss those burdens anywhere and anyhow. We need foodstuffs near the galley, for example, and we need to ensure the boat stays reasonably level, we cannot have everything simply strewn along one side or at one end, that would make the vessel list or pitch uncomfortably. We shall all carry what we can, but Namba here shall direct us as to the placement.

“Let us commence, if it pleases Your Grace, with your personal chests and stow them here aft in what shall be your cabin. Namba can run an eye over the piles of the other stuff still ashore so he can do a rough sort in his mind.”

“Captain?” asked Namba.

“Yes, Namba?”

“I daresay that I can also make a start stowing things away even as we are underway. The rowers shall be on the deck beneath us right now and the cabins are all up here – admittedly maybe not high enough for us all to stand upright in – but this area will not require too many men to be about their business as we travel. This will also enable me to list anything I think we shall need that has been overlooked somehow. Such replenishments can be made in Faralan, I would assume.”

“Excellent thinking. Right then, let’s make a start moving that great pile from the shore.”

“As you desire, Captain,” said Simbran as he turned to his small cadre of Blades. “Come men, we are safe enough here. One of you keep a watch, the rest lay down your arms and let’s get sweaty. Rotate the watchkeeper as you see fit.”

And so they swiftly reduced the piles of crates. As they did so, it became apparent that Namba was an intelligent ‘housemaster’ who would most likely take reliable responsibility for the smooth running of all non-nautical matters. Both the Margrave and the Captain were pleased and swiftly became quite certain that most things in what was now Namba’s domain would go smoothly.

The four guards, three of them at any one time, and the half dozen or so crewmen worked alongside the two leaders - and all of them worked up a thirst with the manual labour, so much so that the Margrave told Namba to organise a dockworker nearby for a large bucket of cooled and watered wine to be delivered, having seen how things were going a good half bell before they finished. This offering was soon gratefully swilled down the parched throats of all the men even as the Captain was issuing orders to prepare for their departure. The upper deck was still covered with loose piles of boxes awaiting final stowage but at least the piles were organised!

… … …

“There! There will do!” announced Volod as he steered the Hooray Boat towards a gently shelving, more shallow spot on the Pakmal bank. A stand of trees on the upriver side would allow a rope to be tied securely around one or more, which would later aid them in refloating when they wished to get themselves off the river bed. Scars on the boles were evidence of the frequency with which others had performed this operation.

“Have YOU used this bay before, Volod?” asked Simbran.

“Aye, Your Grace. Quite often, but never with a vessel quite as large as this! Nor one with quite so deep a keel. We must experiment a little Your Grace and trust the Maker has our best interests at hand.

“Over there, behind those few kaskh bushes, is a suitable pool for bathing, which I suggest we all do before we start out on the final three-quarters of a bell of our journey. If you look over there, you can make out the buildings of Faralan itself, so we need merely to cross the river and slowly approach the port. You did say that you had sent word of our arrival, Your Grace?”

“I did indeed. So they shall be expecting us and hopefully have a berth available already.”

The Captain expertly guided the boat to the shore where the crewmen made it secure. Once satisfied, Volod gave permission for half the men to scramble down and go into the semi-private bathing pool to wash the sweat and grime off, sending Lagref along with them so there was a responsible officer on the deck when he himself went to tidy up. The Margrave also went along with the first batch but found that the men were too embarrassed for him to be naked with them, so he simply climbed out and let them relax whilst he stood off some ten or so strides back towards the boat, wrapped in a large drying cloth.

As he stood there, one of his guards was sent from the boat to discover what the problem was. “No real problem, Bokes, it’s just that the others felt awkward with a naked ruler in the same pool as they. I shall attend here until they are finished, wash myself alone and then simply return to the barge wrapped as I am now.”

“Your Grace!” the shocked armsman replied. “We cannot let you be alone and out of our sight. I implore you to have at least one of us Blades or Twick Joot nearby at all times, at the very least in eyeshot.”

The Margrave sighed heavily. “Very well, Blade. So shall it be. You can await here with me until the others are done and then watch as I do my ablutions. When I am finished, you yourself can freshen up. By which time, I expect the second half of the men to have caught up with you. I can then return to the Spirit and dress in more formal uniform.”

Bokes turned and made a complicated signal with his arms, letting those on the boat know that all was in order.

“So what did you think of our ride down here, yesterday and today?” asked Simbran to fill the time as they waited.

“Errrmmm, Your Grace …”

“No!” interrupted the Margrave. “Don’t let my rank tie your tongue. I am also a man, and we may freely converse here as we stand alone, can we not?”

Blade Bokes coloured but realised that his ruler spoke the truth. “Your Grace, I must confess I found it exhilarating, even though my heart was in my mouth a couple of times. The overnight on that unnamed little island was more comfortable than I had expected. Then this morning, when that funny barge decided to turn so cumbersomely across our bows with no warning, I was sure we would all be swimming shortly!”

“Yes, that was indeed a close call! As was it when that Pakmali galley attempted, so it seemed, to flag us down and stop us. Captain Volod handled the Spirit magnificently then.”

And so they chatted on for the next while, until Twick Joot appeared, clean and dry, and demanded to know why Blade Bokes was standing here.

… … …

“Your Grace, be welcome here in Upper Fanir! I am Steward Berm and this is my wife Eginet. The large man there is my brother Wallis, he shall arrange for your baggages to be transported to the Count’s Mansion. Between us, we look after what was Count Herik’s Mansion but which has now passed on to his son Count Darkwin. Count Darkwin himself wanted to be here, but after his war injuries, bright sunlight such as we have here this evening troubles him, and he therefore sends his apologies.

“You know of course Count Olva and Countess Lagavet from their time spent in your own fair land. The Count and Countess are acting as mentors to Count Darkwin as he regathers his strength.

“Most of these other men are what remains of any senior military ranks here in Upper Fanir, and I deem we shall be here half the night if I am to name each and everyone standing here about to greet you. More shall be revealed at the dinner table this e’en. The hand of men over there in blue work tunics next to their carts report to Wallis and are here to carry your baggages to the Count’s Mansion where you all can be accommodated tonight.

“I see you have four of your armsmen with you. Captain of the Field Woltass here has also brought down an honour squad of ten men – Blades I believe you term them. I would suggest that your vessel is guarded by a half dozen of those fourteen Blades through the night. We are no longer at war but there are certain dissatisfied factions with the potential to cause problems. And there is still a degree of poverty around. After all, only a few days ago we were still suffering under the harsh rule of the Yodan invaders. A positive is the fact that you may be more selective as to which baggage we should carry up to the Mansion, the guard being in place meaning that some could be left safely on board.

“Oh, and not knowing your precise time of arrival nor the precise number of personnel involved, we have arranged an easily prepared dinner which, of necessity, is mostly of cold meats. There shall be soups to warm you, but we regret not being able to honour you with a repast worthy of a state dinner. We shall serve such a meal half a bell or so after our return, if that suits you?”

“Steward Berm, I thank you for the charming and widespread …” his eyes flickered over the thirty or so men and women who had gathered there for him “… welcome. I shall follow your suggestions and request Woltass to assign the guards we shall require for watching over the ‘Spirit of Bibek’.” He cast a glance at Woltass who saluted and nodded. “And we shall be grateful for anything to eat and drink after a hard day’s journeying. Please do not feel embarrassed by your offerings.”

He turned then to the others, his surprisingly deep baritone voice taking on a louder tone so that those at the back might hear him without difficulty: “As for the rest of you, I acknowledge your presence, I thank you for honouring us so and I look forward to meeting you each more formally a little later.”

A general murmur of agreement was returned from the crowd even as Woltass instructed the Twick he had brought down with him to select the other five members of the overnight guard squad.

“Oh, one other thing! Steward Berm, would there be room in this Mansion for our crew too? We have five permanent members and four hired oarsmen as well as the Captain whom I shall require to be with me.”

Berm nodded agreeably and confirmed that there was sufficient room for everyone. He turned and led the way up the pathway/road to the Mansion. Within two hands of moments, the entirety of the crowd, that is all the arrivals and their chests as well as the somewhat swollen welcoming committee, had managed to gain the protection of the stout and sturdy walls of the Mansion.

The Steward ushered the Margrave before him into the capacious entrance hall where the Margrave’s attention was immediately drawn to a small group of women, one of which detached herself and approached him, dropping into a very pretty curtsey as she got to him. She was wearing an expensive gown and extremely tasteful jewellery.

“Your Grace, I am Housemistress Orlet …” the Margrave struggled to contain his surprise over the fact that so apparently young a girl had such a high rank in the household and was so very well dressed. “We are but recently, very recently, delivered from our durance vile and are still finding our feet and establishing routines and the like. I regret that my staff have, at this moment in time, very few resources. We are making the best we can with what we do have.

“Now, I see you have no women in your entourage, so deem that you men might be readied a little quicker than might otherwise be. I have assigned Wallis to be your manservant for the duration of your stay. After a long day, I am sure we shall all enjoy the meal we have prepared … and with your permission, I shall instruct my staff now to start heating the soups. ’Tis just after the half bell now, so may I say we shall dine at the next full bell?”

Again, the Margrave used all his tact to prevent any surprise crossing his face or entering his voice. This young woman had an easy air of command about her that totally belied her apparent age. But her station as a servant in this establishment did not gel well in his mind with the way she was clad, her choice of words and her easy authority.

“Mistress Orlet, I thank you for your forethoughts and deem that your suggestions are both sensible and should indeed be acted upon. Captain of the Field Woltass there suggests I should inspect my forces that are barracked here, and then I shall merely have to change a doublet, so I doubt that even I could spin all that out to more than a half bell.” He smiled at the girl who smiled charmingly back at him before she coloured slightly and dropped her eyes demurely.

Once more the Margrave had an internal fight – he studiously avoided being obvious whilst he was inspecting the girl who had a good figure that her clothes subtly emphasised; a shapely feminine rear, a quite narrow waist, longish legs and a generous bosom. But something in the back of his mind wanted to understand the apparent dichotomy between her age and her air of command.

And there was also something else ... but he knew not what.

After being shown to his room – VERY well appointed, he approved – he followed his senior Captain of the Field down to the barrack quarters where he was again approving of the accommodation provided for his troops.

… … …

Simbran took care to speak, however briefly, to each of the people seated around the huge table. Again he hid his surprise when the Housemistress was one of those. Not only that, she had not been relegated to one end of the table or another, but was afforded a space that would normally be for those more exalted. He was aware that the back of his brain was worrying and fretting at these conundra, but neither his face nor his tone betrayed any of this.

As a result of his insistence upon including all those present, the topics covered at first were mostly generalities, but he did gain one small answer that started to ease his mind until he thought far deeper about it; whereupon, it seemed to him, more questions suddenly hit him like a flood.

Having been relieved of the discomfort of a harsh Yodan rule only a few days prior, then it was suddenly apparent that the ladies gathered here had not for some time been able to dress in their finery. They acknowledged that the clothes most of them wore had been hastily altered to provide the women with some finery in his honour, and that young Mistress Chara as well as her obvious friend Mistress Orlet had been clad in the murdered Countess Silet’s no-longer required formal gowns.

Another little clue came when it was revealed that Orlet was also a niece of Steward Berm’s and Chara was his daughter.

But why should these two be granted the benefit of fine silks and satins? And expensive jewellery, as opposed to say Eginet? And the pride with which Orlet wore that very becoming gown was somehow more than just a feminine awareness of how good she looked. And, Simbran had to acknowledge, she did look very good indeed. Almost regal, came a further thought.

That surprised him actually, a surprise in and of his own mind. Regal was the right word and yet was at the same time shocking to him that he had thought it.

… … …

The meal was over and all were ready for some serious discussions. Count Darkwin had earlier sent his apologies once again, complaining of a most dreadful headache. He promised, however, to meet his newly arrived guest first thing in the morning.

Simbran let his eyes roam around the room, mentally assessing what he now knew of the persons behind the faces. His eyes passed over the efficient Housemistress and he must have allowed a small frown to appear on his face.

“Something is amiss, Your Grace?”

“Not at all Steward. Mistress Orlet’s staff have done us considerable honour in providing such a fine repast and such delicious wines.” He paused as the assembled diners all banged on the table in agreement. “I frowned merely because I find this arrangement of personnel to be unique in my experience. Your Housemistress seems very attentive for someone so young and of such a rank. This is for me unusual behaviour as compared to other houses and mansions and palaces I have visited.”

Everyone present pretended not to notice Orlet’s face aflame.

“Your Grace, we desire to run an efficient establishment here and to that end we have determined that Mistress Orlet shall attend as many of our meetings as possible, that she may learn what might be expected of the household in the future.”

The explanation seemed to the Margrave to be a little contrived somehow. Simbran flicked his eyes sideways towards Olva who, with a small fleeting frown and the slightest of nods, attempted to reassure the Margrave.

Smoothly the visitor returned his attention to Berm. “Ah, Steward! A novel way of training that appears to have much merit. I shall consider that on my onward journey down to Palarand. Perchance, I could be permitted to return here to see how successful it has been once I make my way home?”

“Your Grace would, as always, be most welcome!”

Discussions then turned to the Faralmark forces in Upper Fanir and eventually the Margrave turned to his senior officer: “Woltass!”

“Your Grace?”

“I should like you to accompany me down to King Robanar’s lands. I hear rumours, but very few facts, of many new changes there, which we shall have need to evaluate. I would fain have your advice. And Senior Captain Hannar also has valuable merits. The two of you shall travel with me, at first aboard ship although we shall need to hire a carriage when we reach Palarand. I deem we shall have a guard with us of eight men when we arrive at Robanar’s palace, so shall detach four men to guard our ship when we leave it. The ship’s Captain can also travel on with us, but his men shall remain with the Spirit.

“Thus select a deputy to take charge of the Faralmark forces here in Fanir, find some reliable guardsmen for our trip, include the ones I brought here in your pool from which to select, and meet me back at the ship a bell after dawn with the men you have chosen. One of ‘my’ four is a Twick who seems efficient, so much so that mayhap we would have no requirement for a Platen; you did say earlier that junior officers were currently in short supply here.”

“Your Grace!” said the man as he straightened his back and saluted before spinning on his heel and marching out, Orlet holding the door for him as he went.

Discussions on various topics continued through the rest of the evening. Once Simbran frowned ever so slightly when he saw Berm glance at Orlet and get a confirmatory nod back from the girl. This was on a topic that surely was not within a housekeeper’s purview. But no-one else in the room would have caught his reaction and he remained outwardly as imperturbable as always.

… … …

“And where IS Mistress Orlet, Mistress Chara?”

Chara coloured slightly but answered swiftly and surely: “She has some matters of a female nature to deal with so early this morn.” She then clapped her hand across her mouth and coloured even more.

“Excuse me for embarrassing you. My impressions last night were that the two of you are very close friends. I was surprised that the Housemistress had not turned up to escort me to Count Darkwin but had sent you to do so in her place. I had not anticipated that my feeble attempts at light conversation as we make our way to the Count would be of a more … intimate nature than I intended.”

“Your Grace, it is I who must apologise. Mayhap I should have concocted some story rather than just blurt out the truth as I did. But alas my brain is just a feeble woman’s and I could not conjure a sufficiently intricate story so swiftly. And you have been so nice and considerate with us, I forgot for a heartbeat that you were not a part of our family.”

“I find myself inordinately pleased that you could consider it so. But come, Mistress. Let’s put this behind us. Tell me what you can then of living under the yoke of Yod.”

“There was one patrolman,” she started bitterly, “we all particularly disliked, not simply because it was he who had murdered Count Herik and Countess Silet, but because he was generally a most unpleasant man. Several of the girls around here were assaulted and their fathers could do nothing about it. The man himself had a dreadful way of undressing you as he stared at you, practically drooling.”

“Oh! How dreadful. I suppose you must have been happy when the Yodans left so swiftly?”

Chara coloured and looked uncomfortable. Somehow, Simbran knew she was lying to a certain extent when she said; “Oh yes, Your Grace. That was a happy day indeed.” And yet there could be no denying that the last sentence brought her both great joy and yet also great sadness.

“Curious!” he thought and then opened his mouth to try to ascertain a little more. He had no time however to take that conversational thread any further as they had by then arrived at Darkwin’s door.

Somewhat hurriedly, Chara knocked perfunctorily and ushered the Margrave in, saying to the Margrave: “Someone else will await you, Your Grace, when you come out, and shall bring you to the breakfast room.”

Chara then performed the introductions and scuttled out of the darkened room almost without stopping.

“Very curious!” thought the Margrave briefly before concentrating upon his latest surroundings. He looked around and saw that the room was darkened to a far greater extent than he had anticipated. The figure of the Count was sitting hunched in a well-padded chair off in one corner, wrapped in what appeared to be several blankets. Behind the chair rather than beside it, a single candle was alight, whilst two other corners had flickering flames on long handles. In a wider part of the room, better illuminated, Count Olva raised a hand in greeting.

Simbran, as politeness dictated, addressed himself first to the beshadowed invalid: “Good freshness, Milord Darkwin. And Milord Olva.” he added as he swung his head around to the second Count.

Darkwin replied, in a voice that somehow sounded rusty, as if its use had been recently very infrequent: “Your Grace, so kind of you to come and visit. I am so sorry for the lack of hospitality on my part, but that wretched Yodan who killed my parents, slammed both my head and my shoulder. I am improving but it all seems so very slow, not like the active life I had before all this.”

“Milord, I am grateful that you have found the time and strength for me. I will keep this visit to pleasantries if you desire, but there are some weighty state matters that mayhap we should discuss. I will, with your permission and if you so desire, delay these until my return, for I am underway on a river trip down to Palarand. I could call back in here on my journey home and provide details of those matters I discover whilst down there with King Robanar? Or we might profitably spend a little while now discussing what I may be able to do for you whilst I am down there. I shall be meeting most of the leaders of the lower Sirrel countries.”

“Ah! I understand. Hmmm, I should have liked to have a little longer to think on these matters and to discuss them with my advisors.” Olva and Darkwin exchanged looks. “So mayhap, we could indeed await your detailed report upon your return. My country has been gravely wounded by the invaders, and I must first think of how we are going to rebuild and regain strength – just as I must do myself.”

“A most sensible reaction, Milord. Should I discuss anything in greater detail with Milord Olva before I depart this very morn?”

“I deem that maybe ’twould be a sensible thing to do, but only if you have time.”

“Yes, time is so very important these days, is it not?”

“When the Yodans were here, it seemed that time had slowed down and we all suffered as if in a durance most vile. But even those hard times came to an end, so I deem we have all learned far more about patience than ever we expected to. So mayhap, when you are with the others downvalley, you could ascertain just what they intend to do to prevent anything like these Yodan atrocities from ever reoccurring.”

… … ...

And so it came to pass that Simbran left Darkwin to his suffering shortly after that, and he and Olva had some discussions about the depths of various political matters and thoughts as to the progress of the war. Breakfast was scarcely noticed by the two as they continued their dialogue.

No more mention was made of the domestic arrangements in the Count’s Mansion and soon the passengers of the Spirit all gathered on the jetty next to the vessel. It came as a small surprise to Olva when Simbran had a quiet word with him just then.

“That housekeeper business intrigues me, Olva.”

The Count’s brain worked feverishly. He was oathbound not to reveal more of the Orlet story and yet he felt the Margrave might spend a while trying to get to the bottom of the matter. His long association with the Margrave meant that he knew the man exceeding well.

Olva made sure the Margrave saw him look carefully around before replying in a whisper: “Your Grace, the natural leader of Upper Fanir is now Count Darkwin. Several ambitious men might try to dispose of him, so his very whereabouts, indeed his very existence, has been kept in doubt. I assure you that Darkwin is in fact making some good decisions.”

“Yes, that was my impression when we met him earlier this morn, before we all broke our fasts – but I still understand not how the young Count, who according to Steward Berm may be shortly elevated to be a Duke, can make such decisions. How can he have knowledge of each of the sides of an argument?”

“Ah! Very good. You have picked up on that. Well, I can happily tell you that the Count is kept informed in great detail because every meeting of importance, every word spoken, reaches his ears via Mistress Orlet.”

Simbran’s eyes widened. “Ah!” he breathed. “Clever!”

Olva was left uncertain as to whether or not the Margrave had actually understood the full picture.

The most dangerous point?

---

Disclaimer:

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2023 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2023 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

---

 

As Simbran was talking to Count Olva on the jetty where the Spirit of Bibek was tied up, Volod noticed that the ship’s Steward, Namba, was talking animatedly with Delith, the ship’s cook and quartermaster. He sketched a bow to the Margrave and the Count, not wishing to intrude upon their conversation, and hastened over to the two other men.

“There is a problem?”

It was Delith who answered: “Not really, Captain! Just a minor delay. When it became obvious that we would not be casting off so early as Namba and I anticipated, then I took the opportunity to create an extra order for stuffs that I have discovered are not in my galley. We could have departed without them, but I thought ’twould be best if I got them whilst we were still in some form of civilisation as I deem we shall have some stops that are far more crude on our way later.”

“Indeed, that is most likely!” said the Captain with a smile. “But why the animation between the two of you?”

“I too had the same thought,” replied Namba. “So I too sent off for some last minute little things. I had not realised that Delith had sent the same man on his task, so the man is delayed in returning. He had promised to be here a quarter bell hence.”

“I cannot believe the delays we have had this morn,” sighed Volod. “Why, with but scant exaggeration, ’tis nigh on time for our midday meal and here we are still tied up to a Faniri wooden pile! If the Margrave decides to eat before leaving then no doubt we shall also have to have a nap.”

But Simbran came over then, having taken his leave of Olva. He laughed as he heard Volod’s last words. “Have no fear, Captain. We are free to sail now.”

“Just two last-minute stores orders to arrive, Your Grace, then we can make our way. I shall order the men to raise the sails but keep them furled for now; we shall extend the outboard oars into their ports as soon as the stores arrive and we can make an orderly departure with minimum fuss. The ship is pointing directly at the harbour exit and no other craft is in our way at the moment.”

“Very good! May I step aboard?”

The Captain flushed. “Of course, Your Grace! Forgive me!” He stepped exaggeratedly to one side and swept an arm as if to usher his ruler onboard.

Simbran just laughed and skipped lightly onto the now cleared deck.

Twick Joot issued a few curt orders and three of the waiting Blades stepped aboard as well, whilst the rest made a semi-circle around the embarkment point.

Volod turned to Lagref who was also stood on the waiting deck. “Are all the men aboard, Number Two?”

“Aye. Indeed so, Captain.”

“Break out the sails upon the masts, but leave them furled for now. Then have Joliv and Temasp attend each of our mooring ropes and have the oarsmen in position for our departure.”

“Aye aye, sir. Break out furled sails, then hands to mooring ropes and oarsmen to positions.” All the men involved needed no further instruction and it all seemed very professional to the watchers ashore.

The timing could not have been better for the sails were dealt with just as the stores they were waiting for arrived on a handcart. The three boxes were swiftly loaded onto the Spirit by the dockworker who had been despatched to get them. They were left, as had become the norm, upon the upper deck for Namba and Delith to deal with later.

The Captain nodded to the Twick who then ordered his men to climb aboard. They were soon all stood easy in the centre of the deck, in two files.

At that juncture, Captain Volod held aloft a bright red flag in his left hand and looked towards the controlling tower for the port. Almost immediately, a green flag was waved from there which response was acknowledged by Volod waving his flag from side to side.

Dropping his flag, Volod called: “Crew of the Spirit of Bibek, riverside oars ready, jettyside oars push us gently away. Let go forward, let go aft.”

A chorus of “Aye, aye”s replied.

The ship eased away from the jetty which caused Volod to loudly approve of the oar handling. He strode over to the steering sweep at the stern.

“Lagref, take the stem look-out for now, please. Joliv and Temasp, break out the sails. I deem we can use them all today with this wind.”

“Aye aye,” shouted each of the men so ordered.

The sails filled with a general bang and the Spirit seemed to jump eagerly forward once again towards the mighty River Sirrel.

… … …

Nearly three bells later, Volod and Temasp, with Matent and Maerni (who were two of the oarsmen) and two of the Blades (Harill and Keefle) were idling on the upper deck, forming what Volod had named the ‘emergency crew’. If the ship should happen to slip its moorings here, then at least there were just sufficient men aboard who could sail or row her back.

Everyone else was on the island feeling dozy after an excellent repast produced by Delith from very ordinary ingredients. The cook was flushed from the praises sent his way. That meal break in perfect weather on a deserted island was an occasion that had lifted everyone’s spirits.

The Spirit herself was gently bobbing on the sparkling waters immediately downstream from a sizeable island, the upstream end of which was raised enough to have some permanent vegetation growing thickly there. Two sturdy ropes held the bow of the ship against the island sufficiently closely for a steeply angled plank to stretch down onto the muddy sand, this gangway being enhanced with several horizontal strips of wood to create a firmer footing. This had proven to be most beneficial as the equipment and stores had been carried down onto the island and would no doubt be equally so when all the stuff had to be carried back aboard.

The steady wind had carried the smoke from the cooking fires away from the men and had also kept them cool as the sun blazed from overhead in a clear blue sky. Simbran idly wondered if he could be quite so content later in the year when the temperature would have been most uncomfortable.

Now that the pans had cooled sufficiently to be loaded back aboard – as Lagref had reminded them: “Hot metal and wood should be kept apart; fires are started with less provocation, and we don’t want to burn our boat beneath us!” – Delith, Joliv, Namba and Lagref himself started packing the ship’s belongings together. Four of the nine remaining Blades (Heen, Wennes, Fergos and Jonees) picked up a chest each to deliver to the foot of the gangplank. Twick Joot called Bokes and Graden to him to brief them on their next task when aboard.

Darob it was who called the warning, but it was too late. Only he, Lonnid and Colha were in any position to immediately react to the sudden bursting of a force of ten men out of the vegetation, which force swiftly surrounded the men on the barer part of the island. The Twick and his guardsmen were disarmed very quickly and thus left the Margrave totally unprotected except for the two senior officers standing next to him.

Volod reacted well by immediately making two men draw up the gangplank, thus making it difficult for these marauders to climb aboard the Spirit. He was, however, all too aware that the defenders of the ship would be extremely vulnerable to any crossbows the attackers might have. He could only watch on in frustration as the leader of this band demanded to know who was in charge of the men he had now captured.

The indignation in the Margrave’s voice was blatantly obvious to all as he responded. “And who are you to question the progress of the Margrave of Faral?”

The leader actually took half a step back and looked uncomfortable. But he could not be seen to be diminished in any way in front of his men, so he responded by sneers and ultra-sarcasm. “Oh, the little man with the big voice, eh? I wouldn’t know a margrave if it was at home. What is one of those?”

“I am the ruler of the country of Faralmark. I am underway from my home to Palarand. You interfere with us at your peril, whoever you …”

He was interrupted by an obviously coded bugle call series.

“Shiba-bubufu,” swore the scruffy leader. “There must be a patrol boat nearing! Yes, look there, downstream on the other side. Back lads, as quick as you can. We’ll leave these wastrels alone. You and you, grab what swords you can for they are of better quality than ours and then dash back to our boat whereupon we shall outrun those wretched patrollers. Quick now.” So saying, he turned and ran for the bushes.

The Margrave’s armsmen knew they needed to keep their swords so they immediately took measures to hinder the two designated thieves whilst avoiding serious injury to themselves. They were sufficiently effective that the raiders ran off with but four of the swords. That small action cost the defenders two minor scratches that drew blood.

And then things changed.

Lonnid and Colha had hidden themselves in the fringes of the bushes as soon as the pirates had charged; Lonnid now emerged and skewered the surprised leader, who was looking behind him to make sure his men were following, even before he had a chance to shout. Two more of the raiders fell to the swords of these two armsmen; the remaining seven, in two small bands, one of five and then the two designated sword-stealers, shuddered to a halt in total confusion.

The pause gave time for Twick Joot to issue orders without waiting for any of his senior officers, who were smart enough to remain silent lest they sowed more confusion. The Blades swiftly ran to re-arm themselves, regroup and to advance menacingly upon the hapless raiders. Knowing they now faced a superior force, both better trained and better armed, they soon threw down their arms and begged for mercy.

This was then a major problem for the Margrave.

His agile brain had realised that there was little to no extra space aboard the Spirit for prisoners, certainly not for this many. They also had yet to deal with the vessel that had brought these raiders to this isle. He discounted immediately any thought of slaughtering the miscreants, but would he have to delay his trip to stand guard over them, whilst the Spirit went in search of some local authorities?

Whatever he decided, the captives would have to be controlled and he nodded his approval as Captain of the Field Woltass detailed one of the Blades to run to the Spirit to get some spare rope from the stores with which to hobble the men. He then started discussions with the senior men, examining every way they could think of as to how to continue.

Some moments later, as the conversation went round in circles yet again, a small shout drew his attention to the bushes from which a bleeding Darob had suddenly appeared. Simbran strode over to the wounded man, flanked by his two senior commanders.

“Report, Blade!”

“Their boat is departed, Sirs! They had two gangplank guards stationed, one of whom spotted me in my hiding place in the bushes and crept up on me. I was fortunate in that I saw him just as he attacked me, a rustle somehow alerted me. His sword shattered on mine and I then managed to kill him with a single thrust. The officer on board shouted that he dare not hold place any longer, and they must needs depart. The other guard scrambled aboard, dragging the gangway with him. And off they went, with some difficulty for they were shorthanded.”

“Did you see any other vessel?”

“Yes, Sirs. There was a vessel approaching from downstream, beating up against the current. The bandits attempted to flee and this new vessel gave chase.”

“Very good, Darob! Go and report to the Cook, let him arrange some bandaging.”

The Margrave nodded his agreement and then resumed his discussions with the two seniors.

“I suppose that helps, somewhat. I was going to await that patrol vessel. But what I suggest we now do, is that we lightly bind the prisoners so they cannot disturb our departure, and we simply sail away, reporting our actions to either the patrol vessel should we encounter it, or to whoever is in charge at wherever we select to overnight. The prisoners will thus be rescued by either the authorities, or by their companions should they evade any pursuit.”

Volod had come to join the men and interjected at this point: “Your Grace! Over there on the right bank of the river is a small riverport, named Tysoe. ’Twould delay us but briefly, if we put in there to make our report. And, with no criticism intended, that is a Pakmal village used often by those of us who float, so they are used to strangers a’calling. They – and I cannot believe I am actually saying this about Pakmal – are likely to be more efficient than any secluded village over there in the remote southern wilds of recently-occupied Upper Fanir.”

“Ruefully, I must acknowledge your point, Captain.”

“What about the bodies, Your Grace?” asked Senior Captain Hannar.

“The prisoners will be able to loose their bonds quite quickly, so I deem we can leave that task to them. We’ll leave them with firelighting abilities to allow them to cook something whilst they attend their fate. Maybe, they might construct a pyre!”

And so it transpired. The prisoners were fully informed, not just abandoned, and some of them actually expressed gratitude for the clemency with which they were treated.

As it happened, they didn’t need to stop at the riverport. They crossed the path of another boat that was heading there, so they passed on the messages to this other vessel and continued on their way.

… … …

“Why ’tis what always used to be called the Yodak river, Your Grace – a constructed name that was used to show the demarcation between Yod and Pakmal. That entire side valley was divided between the two nations and provides each with the easiest access to their respective upland areas. However, it was a very early victim of Yodan aggression and aggrandizement, so they renamed it to be the ‘Yodan Waterway’ and took over control of the entire thing, not keeping to just their side of the stream all the way up there. Mayhap soon we can return to the old name once more.”

A few nods showed Volod the general agreement from the senior men present. Simbran hid a satisfied grin. He was already aware of the naming changes and the recent history of Yodan expansionism. He was, however, intrigued enough at the view to see the side river tumble down into the Sirrel, to actually lay eyes on it rather than read about it all on a sheet of parchment.

… … …

“Fanegada, Your Grace. I have used their facilities several times and would describe them as crude but not totally lacking in a degree of comfort.”

“Very well, then. We shall attempt to find a comfortable night there.”

The steersman adjusted the course of the Spirit and all gathered together to make out what they could of the riverport they were now approaching. All were a little anxious for it was almost in Yod and indeed had until recently been under the yoke of Yodans. Perchance, there were still Yodans there. Caution would have to be their watchword, even though they were under the supposed protection of their large orange and yellow Faral flag.

They had finally arrived in a stretch of the river with Yod on the right bank and Yodan-recently-occupied Upper Fanir to their left. Borne swiftly by the current, with the aid of the wind in its sails hanging from the two masts (and the bowsprit), the Spirit had made remarkably good progress towards their ultimate destination, still many marks distant. But they were aware that they had reached a zone of great danger, against which many voices had warned them.

“Remember all, all that we discussed whilst sailing this afternoon. Never assume that we are alone, never assume that we shall be left in peace. Always have at least two Blades on alert for intruders. As a ruler of a country not at war, we should be left to have free passage. But there is no guarantee that we shall indeed be afforded such courtesy. Captain Volod has performed superbly to manage to get us this far …”

“’Twas the current and the very unusual winds today and yesterday, Your Grace! I confess that I never before expected to be able to reach Faralan in so much less than two day’s sailing from Bibek, especially after our somewhat delayed start! And we have made a far swifter passage today after our somewhat extended stop for luncheon.”

“That’s as maybe, I was impressed by the way we have sped along the water, even if it did upset a few other ships that we used the central track of the speediest current. Those two ponderous galleys that attempted to stop us were deftly evaded, I congratulate you, Captain.”

Volod was unused to receiving compliments, especially in full sight and vision of a vessel’s entire complement, so he didn’t know how to respond. He just blushed and gave a salute to the Margrave without actually saying anything more.

With some relief, he returned to concentrate upon his duties of guiding the vessel to the shore.

… … …

“Volod!”

“Your Grace?”

So began the next decision-making confabulation.

“Where do you feel we could replenish our stores now we have given most of them away?”

“If I might answer you in a roundabout way, at least at first, Your Grace?”

Simbran waved a somewhat impatient hand so Volod hurried on. “We shall soonish come to a divide in the river, where the Sirrel parts to sweep past what has always been called Lower Fanir Island. The two branches created by this are known by the names of the two larger villages or towns that stand near this bifurcation. To the left, where the shorter waterway starts, we would enter the Brio Branch. Along there, at first, the river passes between the two Fanirs, Upper to our left and Lower, which is of course the island, to our right. We would there be, at least theoretically, away from Yod.

“On the other hand, the branch that would take us to the right is known as the Wadek Branch. This branch passes between Lower Fanir, the island, and Yod itself which, as you know, lies to our right even now.

“Now the island was a very early casualty of the war and was rapidly absorbed into the Yodan conglomerate, as was the entirety of Lower Fanir and then most of Upper Fanir. After our experiences last night, then I must hesitate to suggest that we will not have a great deal of flexibility of choice of supplies if we maintain our course along the Brio Branch.

“Despite the distaste we must have for the Yodans and their methods, I must confess that we shall likely have better supplies, indeed a far better choice of supplies, if we then keep to the right and go down the longer Wadek Branch.

“But you have indicated all along we wish to descend the Valley as swiftly as we might, so I must therefore ask for a decision from you as to our route. Once that is established, then I can better answer your question about our stores.”

The Margrave acknowledged Volod’s words and turned to his advisors, one of whom carried a chart showing the twists and turns of the Sirrel in this region. They had all been shocked and depressed by what they found in Fanegada; Captain Volod had told them that the place was a fishing and riverport with agreeable welcomes, basic but nourishing food and particularly amiable chats.

What they had found was a near-derelict fishing village, with plant life already encroaching at the edges and a population of ageing men and women with but a few young and bewildered children. Most of the fishers’ boats had been damaged, several to the point of ruin, and, wickedly, all the able-bodied men and women had been rounded up and marched away to Maker knows where. There was no-one left behind strong enough to work sufficiently hard to keep adequate quantities of food coming in and a general air of despair and resignation had overtaken them all.

The passengers and crew of the Spirit had all been shocked and angry at the callousness so starkly illuminated in front of them. Far from Volod’s reported agreeable welcome, the pathetic desperation and begging welcome they had received was so strongly moving. The visitors had done what they could to provide some limited succour and all had at long last, after bells of toil, overnighted aboard their Hooray Boat.

“Yes, gentlemen, I fully understand that someone should be here to work with, help and support them. But I, as the leader of a foreign nation, must also look at a much wider viewpoint. You are all gathered here for one task, which is to assist me to get to Palarand, help me once there and ease our passage back to Faralmark. Before we departed Bibek, after many discussions, we pared down the personnel requirements to that which we considered to be the barest of bare minima.

“We must be clear-headed about all this. We have not just happened to stumble upon the only village in such desperate straits, so if I were to leave someone here, and it would have to be at least two of you, then do the same thing at the next village and so on, then my mission shall never be completed. And that could have serious repercussions for the entire nation, if what I gather from messages I have received is even halfway true. I am sorry, but we MUST forge on. And we must have ALL of you.

“However, I promise we shall inform some authorities of the situations we have encountered. If necessary we shall return to Faralan to make certain someone there is in the know.

“Now, we are all extremely tired if not exhausted, let us now regain some strength through sleep and consider it all in the morning.”

And so it came to pass that the entire company, many with heavy hearts made more onerous by the desperate pleading from the villagers, decided they must continue downstream all together.

As they departed in the morning, they promised to somehow arrange help and assistance.

Fortunately, once back on the river, they soon encountered a barge destined for Faralan so they forcibly passed on the urgent messages onto the vessel that was now making its way upstream with a noticeably added urgency. The encounter helped many of the company feel a degree or two better.

For the next bell, they travelled on in almost total silence, each turning over in their minds the cruelty to which they were now witnesses.

“Volod!”

“Your Grace?”

“Would it disturb you too much from your duties here, if I and a couple of others were to engage you in conversation and decision making?”

“No Your Grace. I shall be able to cope adequately.”

“Our immediate journey, have you …”

“Ah! I have many thoughts about that and was waiting for you to bring it up.”

“And there are also other questions we have.”

“And they are, Your Grace?”

“Where do you feel we could replenish our stores now we have given most of them away?”

“If I might answer you in a roundabout way, at least at first, Your Grace?”

And so the discussions started.

“… so I feel, with the wind and the current helping us, we should have just the one night in Yod or in Yodan-held lands. I deem I can pilot us as far as Ferenis but once there we would need to engage a more experienced pilot. And Ferenis Town is on the far side of Ferenis so we have no chance of making it there without an intervening overnight.

“Considering everything, I deem we should keep our involvement with Yod as short as possible so would recommend we take the Brio Branch and we should, just about, be able to reach Rufen, which is in Lower Fanir and is the opposite slip to that of the Yod City ferry. I would aim for that being tonight’s stop. Then the next day we would be clear of Yod. We could replenish in Rufen, I am sure, but maybe we should do a swift stop in Brio itself to cover our own basics, so we have a ‘just in case’.”

The Margrave looked at all those gathered with him, each of whom nodded their agreement.

And so was the decision to take the Brio Branch taken.

… … …

“What the …?”

“A problem, Volod?”

“Potentially, Your Grace! In all my years, I have never seen it like this. So many craft all bobbing about in the same place! Please allow me to study this and think on it.”

The Margrave nodded as Volod issued his orders: “Temasp, go and relieve Lagref and keep a sharp eye out as our forward watchman. Send Lagref here that he might relieve me so I can ascend the foremast to get a better view.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

The others talked amongst themselves whilst Volod was aloft, all trying to make sense of the seeming chaos in front of them, a chaos which was approaching quite rapidly. Senior Captain Hannar made a suggestion which Volod not only confirmed but also elaborated upon when he returned to the group about a quarter bell after he left them.

“I saw many men on both banks. On the undeveloped left bank which is still in Upper Fanir, and also there on the right bank in Brio itself. And it looks like the men are being ferried to Brio, with some urgency. Which is then understandable as to why Brio harbour is almost impossibly crammed with vessels of all sizes. However, I don’t really understand it all, for Brio is on an island that Yod control already so why would they move their arm… OH! Of course, these are the men RETREATING from Upper Fanir!”

Hannar added: “Indeed so. And the littoral narrows considerably at the border between Upper and Lower Fanir, so they probably have a large choke-point there. And that is not much further along the left bank.”

There was a general chorus of “Ah!” and the men were about to launch into further discussion when there was a shocking interruption from a bevy of boats not too far ahead of them. There was an obvious command boat directing traffic which was surrounded by several smaller ones. The incident started when one of the smaller boats began shouting up at the command one. Tempers frayed and the voices got louder and shriller.

Suddenly, two men stepped forward on the command boat. One was holding a shortish piece of metal which looked like a pipe, but with a slightly flared out end. It looked to be just a little longer than the man’s forearm. They watched in fascination as the man raised the pipe and nestled it into his shoulder, using a previously unseen shaped wooden rest. He directed the other end of the pipe towards the argumentative boat which reacted strongly by trying to back away. Some of the men aboard it leapt overboard and tried to swim. The man with the pipe nodded and his partner stepped forward holding what looked like a length of cord which he dangled near the pipe man’s face.

A huge roaring bang and a sudden cloud of smoke enveloped the pipeman, but the watchers from the Spirit of Bibek were horrified by events on the smaller boat. They stood, appalled, as they saw several men were flung backwards bloodily and a part of the boat disappeared entirely. The river rushed into the vessel and, within mere heartbeats, the boat sank beneath the hungry waters.

A stunned silence descended.

… … …

“I must formally complain and shall do so as soon as I am able, Boat Leader.”

“I care not! You are now in Yod …”

“Incorrect. Lower Fanir!”

A grimace of annoyance was plastered on the Yodan’s face as he continued without acknowledging the interruption “… and are therefore subject to Yodan law. We shall search your vessel and ensure you are not spies. We have no proof that you are, as you claim, a leader of an entire country in the Great River Valley and shall therefore examine what we like, when we like. Your vessel is hereby impounded and you all shall be held awaiting trial. This is why I have had you brought here. As the chief witness against you, then the trial shall be whenever I have time to attend. I am unimpressed with your recalcitrance and shall make sure the court becomes aware of your obstructive behaviour. Now form up in a li…”

“What’s going on here?”

The Boat Leader swung round with an angry look on his face; a look that swiftly disappeared as he recognised the man striding towards them, but nevertheless with an obvious limp. He stiffened to a very precise attention as he saluted: “Port Director, good afternoon!” He also acknowledged the man beside the Port Director. “Under Officer Tang!”.

“Ah! ’Tis you, Horrian! I have been looking for you to investigate the discharge of a Thunder Pipe earlier. From your boat, I gather?” began the Port Director.

“Yes, sir. I had given orders to a ferry vessel that they chose to disobey. The helmsman of the bo…”

“Yes. Yes.” He waved a hand to interrupt the flow of words. “I have heard the story from other witnesses. Now tell me what this latest episode with you is, and why you are not at your post afloat doing your duty.”

“I have arrested these men, Sir, for being spies. I am about to put them in chains. They have concocted a fantastical story about being the leader of an upriver land named Fartlemark or some sort like that. The little man there, at the front, appears to be the ringleader. Some are undoubtedly the crewmen of their ship, which as you may see when we return to the water’s edge, is of an unusual construction. But they then are guilty of facilitating spies, and are therefore also the enemy.”

The Port Director turned to Simbran and announced: “I am Port Director Lambian Felomihunter. Who are you?”

“We are a delegation from Faralmark heading to Palarand for private discussions with King Robanar and with Queen Terys and carrying private messages for the Queen from her family in Stirmond.

“I myself am the leader of my country; you would do well to remember that we are not at war with each other.” The unspoken word ‘Yet’ was nevertheless loud enough for everyone to hear. Simbran continued: “My title is Margrave, and as such, by treaty and by convention, I am entitled to a free passage along the river with neither let nor hindrance. My status is indicated by my standard flying at the stem of my State Boat. You may address me as ‘Your Grace’.

“The messages I carry are as sacrosanct as any conveyed by the Valley Messenger Service and I shall report each and every violation with a view to getting all of Yod’s message privileges revoked.

“I demand that our vessel is released immediately into our care and we are allowed to progress as soon as we are all aboard and have checked that your uncouth louts have done no damage, nor broken any seals.” Simbran allowed his simmering anger to show as he stood in front of the Port Director and folded his arms across his chest.

“You see, Director, this is an obvious pack of bluster and lies. We do not recognise his standard on his unusual boat, nor the colours these men are wearing. Why, even a …” Horrian again trailed off into silence, this time as both Lambian and Under Officer Tang twisted their heads around to glare at him. Simbran, Woltass and Hannar felt a little jolt of hope; maybe these two officers DID recognise their colours.

The Port Director was about to speak further when yet another voice called out. “I am Senior Army Captain Hannar of the Faralmark Forces. I recognise you, Director Lambian. We have met, albeit briefly. You have grown your beard considerably since then and your limp is now more pronounced.

“I was part of a Faral delegation to Pakmal for some trade talks and you were there with a Yodan delegation for some other unspecified purpose. You at least must recognise our colours and sashes. To assist your memory,” he added swiftly, “I am forced to admit that this was a while before Yod started invading neighbouring countries, and neither of our ranks were quite so exalted back then.” There was no disguising the lack of approval in his voice.

Lambian flushed slightly at the implied criticism but at least he took notice of the words. “I regret my memory does not extend to recognising you in person, Captain. However, I recognise the occasion.” He turned to his assistant: “Tang, fetch a squad of your own and then meet us at the gangplank to this foreign vessel. In the meantime, we shall have to put a cease to the what now appears to be an illegal inspection; at least until we discover the truth of the matter.

“Horrian, gather your entire squad and crew and meet me on the wharfside by the so-claimed Faral boat, even if some of them are currently onboard it. Get them out immediately.”

“Yes Sir!” both his juniors replied in unintentional unison.

“All you who claim to come from Faralmark, follow me back to your craft.”

The Faral contingent all looked at each other. Simbran called out: “Back to the ship, everyone, in an orderly and quiet fashion! For the moment, control any anger.”

Woltass looked at the Margrave quizzically. Simbran whispered to him: “They are on a knife edge. Any excuse could trigger a bloodbath or incarceration. We desire neither. We must be extremely careful. But they now know that we are ALL angry.”

And so the large group retraced their footsteps to the wharfside where Port Director Lambian gathered all about him. He held up a hand for silence, which he was granted, even as he impatiently waited for Boat Leader Horrian to noisily gather his entire squad together at the designated location. Soon, all persons were gathered as he had commanded.

At long last, he spoke: “Look round - all of you; first at the foreign boat here moored. The wind is strong enough to stir the large standard flying at its prow. We can see the yellow and orange colours that match the uniforms and the sashes of the men who were travelling upon her. This is a first indication of the truth of their claims.

“And I can confirm Captain Honnar’s, or whatever his name is, statement that I do recognise the colours of Faralmark. My memory is also still accurate enough to remember that the leader of this country is entitled ‘Margrave’. A second indication.” His voice harshened. “And yet you, Horrian, have decided to ignore the evidence that abounds before your very eyes and have jumped to a baseless conclusion. As a result of which, you have declared these men to be enemies and spies. Your impulsive nature has nearly brought your country to a war with another land.

“It would appear that you were over-hasty earlier too and as a result have destroyed an entire ferry and several of our soldiers retiring from the front for some rest.

“The Ascendancy of Yod is fighting battles to bring our values of implacable efficiency and clear superiority to all the other poorer nations in this valley of the mighty Sirrel. It is incumbent upon us all to plainly demonstrate our unwavering dedication to examining all the factors before making decisions. Tang!”

“Yes Sir!”

“Take your squad and place all the members of Horrian’s group in chains.” A collective gasp of worried surprise rose from Horrian’s men. “They must learn to be less impulsive. A few months rowing on a galley will get the message home. Then send someone to find a replacement crew to operate Horrian’s vessel. We still require some form of control out there on the water.”

A very surprised Tang said: “Aye, aye, Sir!” and, using hand gestures and nods, he watched as his men bound those of Horrian, amidst a cacophony of pleas for mercy and the like. A single man of the new squad was despatched to arrange for the replacement crew.

“Return their weapons to them immediately. I shall invite each man amongst the ones so-far designated as foreigners to inspect his weaponry to guard against any … accidental … substitution.”

There was a general melee as this was performed, with a certain amount of reluctance in some cases. Two of the Blades complained that their swords had been changed for inferior ones, so much shouting ensued. This went on for a little while until the Port Director’s patience ran out. All disputes were suddenly resolved once his angry face was observed and his angry tones were heard.

“Horrian!” then shouted Lambian above the tumult. “You are to kneel in front of the Margrave and beg his forgiveness.”

Horrian looked at him, completely shocked.

“Do it!” shouted Lambian commandingly.

The Boat Leader slowly moved and began to lower himself to his knees in front of Simbran, very obviously reluctant to do so. It was plain that he just did not, ever, beg for forgiveness. He was in fact angry with the Margrave for causing this situation, for he knew that he himself had done no wrong. In fact, that fool of a Port Director has been the one who had over-reacted and blown this all out of proportion.

Finally, his inbuilt sense of obedience meant he was on his knees albeit with a defiant look upon his face.

Lambian then said: “It is clear to me, Horrian, that you have been promoted all the way up to your personal level of incompetence. Now let me hear you ask for forgiveness. Nice and loud so that all here gathered may hear your utterances.” He unsheathed his sword to add to his threat.

Horrian, still defiantly, looked at Simbran, a real challenge in his eyes. He shut his mouth demonstrably. He would NOT apologise to this man. His face became even more surly as Lambian impatiently added: “Disobedience is an offence against the State!”

Which surly look swiftly disappeared when Lambian swung his sword and cut deep into the Boat Leader’s exposed neck.

… … …

Nearly all the men aboard the Spirit had helped clean the ship before they took their hurried departure. Several had vomited at the spectacle which had made such a mockery of the much-vaunted “rigorous Yodan efficiency” as Lambian had required four or five increasingly hectic swings to finally decapitate the kneeling Boat Leader.

Even Under Officer Tang, who had by now been assigned to the Spirit until it was out of ‘Yodan waters’, had eventually emptied his guts at the brutality. He was accompanied by two taciturn armsmen and they all were to share a cramped space aboard the vessel allocated to them with a marked lack of grace by Namba. They had been ordered to accompany the Margrave on his passage through the so-called ‘Yodan waters’ to prevent a recurrence of the events that had so delayed and angered Simbran and his companions.

Shock had helped many of the company control themselves whilst ashore, but, once they had regained the familiar ‘territory’ of the Hooray boat, then relaxation meant that many of them were violently, loudly and stinkingly ill. The stench was such that even the three Yodans joined in. Namba was outraged as his hitherto orderly domain was so sullied and privately thanked the Maker for keeping the mess outside of any of the accommodation spaces. He went and fetched buckets of water with which to swill down the upper decks and the sides of the hull, the physical chore helping him to partially forget the recently observed horrors, but ’twas only to a slight extent.

Not that he did the scrubbing himself. He decided that those who made the mess should be the ones responsible for that. His grossly affronted air and his self-imposed busyness was sufficient to hold himself immune from succumbing to the general malaise.

Simbran, Woltass and Hannar had managed to control themselves sufficiently to give no visual clue to others of their inner turmoil, and Volod held back out of sheer determination not to be seen to be so disadvantaged. Lagref also just managed to control himself, but his fight against it was obvious to all.

Surprisingly rapidly, the Spirit was returned to its usual clean state.

Volod barked out orders to the crew who were pleased to have something to do, something to take their minds off the revolting spectacle they had all witnessed. Only after he had started, did Volod realise that, strictly speaking, he should have obtained Simbran’s permission. But the latter just waved a hand in obvious agreement. Everyone wanted to be away from this brutal place. Oars were unshipped and made ready, sails were hoisted and soon deployed, lines were cast off, dragged aboard and coiled. The ship itself seemed eager to leap away from that dark and perturbatory wharfside.

Simbran stood stock still at the rail that ran along the side of the deck. Staying rigidly in place, his eyes were locked on those of Lambian, who gazed back almost unblinkingly, demonstrating not the slightest degree of remorse, despite his clothing still being liberally blood-spattered. Both men were glad to be granted an ever-increasing distance apart, their contrastingly different views and thought processes were never going to align. Neither would ever be able to understand the other, should they ever meet again.

The vessel had departed even as the evening shadows were beginning to draw in, leaving even without replenishing any of their stores. All the Farals aboard just wanted to get away. On the water, so many various craft were about that it was almost a battle to thread their way out of Brio port and to regain the relatively peaceful Sirrel; they left many disgruntled water-goers in their wake.

… … ...

“You men are an unwelcome necessity. You have no authority on this vessel. Your job is to ease our passage when we inevitably encounter more of your overly officious countrymen. You should be aware that Captain Volod there is in charge of this ship; his word is paramount. If he says something, issues an order, you obey it immediately and with neither hesitation nor querying. I myself, the leader of his nation, am subject to his discipline; I am aware that I am not clever enough to know all the details as to why he may say we need to do something, but I am also aware that he may be trying to save our lives in a dangerous situation, or mayhap attempting to save our floating home.

“Anyone, Faral or …” at this point he put his face close to Tang’s to add emphasis to his words, “… Yodan who disobeys in any way, shape or form, will be immediately put ashore and abandoned. Do I make myself clear?”

Tang, obviously somewhat rattled, replied: “Yes!”

Simbran raised his eyebrows and gently said: “That would be ‘Yes, Your Grace!’ then.” The very gentleness with which he spoke added great import to his words.

Tang’s own eyebrows reached for the sky. He swallowed nervously and said: “Oh yes! Of course, Your Grace!”

Simbran then looked both intently and quizzically at the two armsmen standing either side of Tang. Neither of them spoke but hastily nodded in acknowledgement. Simbran once again noted the engrained obedience of the common Yodan soldiery.

He redirected his attention to the Under Officer. “And Captain Volod will always be addressed by any of you as ‘Sir.’” He let that thought sink in for a moment.

… … …

“Tell me more about yourselves, then. We are to be shipmates for a short while, so it makes better sense. I know all three of you would rather be elsewhere, but you are not, so let’s deal with realities and try to make the best of what you consider to be a bad job.

“Let us start with you. I know your name is Tang and that you are an Under Officer. It seemed to me that you too were shocked by Port Director Lambian’s excesses. Do you perhaps question to yourself the righteousness of his actions? And tell me, what rank does Lambian hold? Is a Port Director the equivalent of anything I might know?”

“Errrm, Your Grace.” started a stuttering Tang, almost embarrassed to be the centre of attention of so many senior ranks and also his two underlings. “A Port Director is the same rank as a Tributant. But I am aware that that might not really mean anything to you who are not of the Ascendancy. I confess I know nothing of the areas outside of our nation, save that most of all the other landsfolk live in poverty and are waiting for we of Yod to come and release them from their vile durance. And …” he said suddenly forcefully and with a certain waspishness “… their leaders deliberately keep them that way to maintain for themselves their usual luxury.”

He was about to continue when Simbran’s raised hand stopped him. The Margrave turned to the next Yodan: “And do you also believe this great pack of drivel? Your name please, armsman?”

“My name is Kaal, Your Grace. And that is in essence exactly what we have been told by our leaders.”

“Thank you, Kaal. And what about you?” he said turning to the third Yodan.

“Stawmead, Your Grace. I confirm what the other two said, but hasten to say that I do not believe it all. My byname is ‘Shoalcatcher’ and I have had to, on occasion, take refuge with my fishing boat in foreign ports or harbours. I have seen things that directly contradict the normal statements made about foreigners.”

With a meaningful sidelong glance at Tang, he continued: “I dare say nothing else, Your Grace. You have seen some of the penalties meted out for offences against the State.”

… … ...

“Your choice, you men. Come with us ashore and expand your education, but to do that you will have to hide your Yodan garb, lest the locals take offence. Think more on what Stawmead has revealed to you. Stawmead mind you, not myself nor my men. Take a little chance and trust us and I am certain you shall be surprised. This is no ruse to get you off our boat, just my attempt to show you how others in other lands regard the Yodans. I will take an oath to protect you whilst we are ashore and that we will not abandon you.”

“Heard and witnessed!”

The Sprit of Bibek had approached an open, as opposed to a hidden one, fishing hamlet, apparently much like Fanegada. They just wanted somewhere away from Brio and its horrors to pass the night. Volod had, without discussion, chosen the Lower Fanir bank.

Stawmead had leant his voice to the persuasion of the other two who were now somewhat intrigued to learn how foreigners saw them.

“Please try hard to just listen and not speak, however angry you might feel. Right then, we shall go ashore.”

And so the boat moved under oars to the crude jetty. Volod’s worries were added to as he considered whether said jetty was sturdy enough! There was maybe a bell of light left before the night creatures came out.

… … …

“The Yodans, may a pox take them all, marched off all the young men and half the young women. We have nobody with skills and/or strength enough left to catch fish, nor to repair. Just us old folk. The young children have all died off from malnutrition and none of us left have the strength to build a pyre for our dead. The few young women formed a band and strode away, saying they would search for help. Young women! Alone!” The ancient man broke down into tears. “We have nothing left. We are nothing. We have nothing to look forward to.”

… … …

A sober trio of Yodans were in earnest discussion back aboard the Spirit. None of the Faral contingent were prepared to contribute.

“But,” said Tang, “they are going to die anyway. Would you not just be prolonging their agony?”

“Yes, once we leave, who is going to feed them then?”

Stawmead frowned at Kaal, the last speaker. “That’s certainly a possibility, but who is to say that no-one else will come along in a few days? Are you going to be judge and executioner?

… … …

“Do not alter the positions of those lanterns, nor let them go out!” called Stawmead up to the men on the Hooray Boat.

The borrowed fishing boat, the best of an admittedly bad bunch, had then set out into the main river with four men aboard – Stawmead, Maerni, Heen and Kaal. The first-mentioned had been very persuasive that he could provide sufficient fish for a meal for each person that evening. And hopefully, sufficiently more for another day.

---

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

---

Disclaimer:

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2020 - 2022 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2022 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

Which he did.

And which was continued into the next day.

*** *** ***

“You said you were going to do that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well I would do it that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How can the woman be so obtuse?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Decided to slink back in have you?”

The grin dropped immediately from his lips.

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

“Why are you being arrested?”

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

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

He sighed again, this time very loudly.

“YOU are not invited. ’Tis I alone.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Right then, I shall be off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

He paused briefly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again a significant pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

“So what did he want?”

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

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

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

Which went completely unnoticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

An astounding start for our Minister

---

Disclaimer:

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2020-2022 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2022 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

---

“Would you please go up to the Margrave now, Minister?” said Lim as he returned to their office room. “I will keep your next appointment occupied until you return. A shame it is that we had not more advanced notice that he would require your assistance today.”

“Thank you, Lim. I am somewhat surprised that I have not been kept waiting for so very long! This summons seems to have very short notice.”

“I deem this meeting upstairs to be most important, if I understand correctly from the servants just who is there!”

“What do they say, then?”

“Minister, may I suggest that your impatience will be answered when you enter. I should not venture any guesses that may prove incorrect.”

Yussuf rolled his eyes at young Lim, adjusted his robes as he stood and then left without a backward glance.

For some reason, he found himself counting the steps as he climbed. He shook his head and grinned at himself.

“Good freshness, Minister. Please enter,” said the Margrave’s Housemaster as he went to open the double doors for Yussuf, “His Grace is expecting you along with his visitors.”

“And a good freshness to you too. Thank you, Birug,” Yussuf said as he entered the room. The usage of the Faralmark early morning greeting always raised his spirits, as indeed it was designed to do to all that heard it.

The five pairs of eyes that looked at him immediately drew his attention, so much so that he was unaware of Birug closing the double doors behind him, from the outside. He almost overlooked the pair of servants standing to attention just inside the doorway, one to each side.

The Margrave stood up, which act temporarily shocked Yussuf (His Grace standing for HIM, ’tis normally the other way round), as he beckoned Yussuf across to a seat on the fourth side of the low, square table, round which the three principals had made themselves comfortable. A few scrolls and parchments were scattered across its surface, four cups, one so far untouched, and the inevitable pot of pel. Four other mugs were also present and a carafe of water. In front of the Margrave’s seat is a strange rectangular block, almost white in colour. Next to it are two thin twigs, but they aren’t twigs rea...

“My friends,” started the Margrave, interrupting Yussuf’s train of thought, “if I may introduce Faralmark’s Minister for Trade and Transport, Master Yussuf by name.”

Each of the seated men nodded to him, even as Yussuf was encouraged to take the seat opposite the Margrave. Yussuf noted that there was no offer of any handshakes. Now is that because they deem me to be beneath them, or maybe because they are seated. I have never seen a handshake between men that WASN’T performed stand...

“To your left, Minister, you will find Grand Duke Kotterin of Mirdul, who kindly gave passage to our other guest here. Please also meet to your right Landgrave Herso of Benmond.”

Maker, they are the rulers of those two lands. I AM beneath them. How do I react to them, address them?”

The Margrave swung round and used an arm to indicate the other two men in the room, men seated at a less luxurious table and chair arrangement, and with piles more of parchment folders and scrolls in front of them as well as the light refreshments. Yussuf’s panic began to rise but he forced himself to listen to the Margrave. “These gentlemen are their advisors. They may contribute as and when to our discussions. I anticipate that you shall be contacting and discussing with all four of these gentlemen, particularly in the event of my being unavailable at some time.”

Yussuf started to stand again, but the Margrave signalled him to stay down, and at the same time to calm himself. The new Minister didn’t really know how to behave properly at that very moment. He did feel he needed to speak though.

He coughed to clear his throat of any hidden or unexpected hindrances: “Gentlemen, it is a great honour to meet you both. I confess I would fain learn how I should properly address the two of you,” the Minister stated. “However, I feel in many ways that I should be seated at that other table.” He cast an almost imploring glance at the Margrave.

“Nonsense, Yussuf. You have very valuable knowledge in your head and I require, nay need, your input on several points that shall come up. I anticipate we shall be here up to and through luncheon. There is ...”

“Excuse me, Your Grace, if that is the case, then I need to let Master Lim know for I did have some appointments this morn. He shall need to reschedule them or otherwise handle them.”

“Minister, I am impressed. Already arranging such things on just your second day in the job!” Even as he was praising Yussuf, the Margrave caught the eye of one of the servants by the door and nodded commandingly. The young man acknowledged with eye-speak and slipped out quietly.

The Grand Duke from Mirdul looked up in some surprise: “Just the second day?” he queried, his eyes darting between the Margrave and the Minister.

“Indeed so,” replied the Margrave. “I appointed Minister Yussuf only yesterday. After a great deal of investigative checking, I deemed him to be the best man for the job I require.” He turned back to Yussuf. “Mayhap you should tell us all here gathered your history, Minister. It would, I’m sure, answer early many of the questions that shall otherwise arise and thus clear the decks for the more serious matters for which we have gathered.”

Yussuf was gathering his thoughts for this unexpected direction when Landgrave Herso asked simply: “Your name and clothing suggest a background which at first glance would appear to be unusual in this part of our Valley, Minister. How comes that?”

Yussuf’s mind was jerked onto yet another track. He looked from one face to another as he thought furiously. But the need to formulate a story went a long way to helping him calm down. The silence stretched. It was broken by the door opening quietly and the servant slipping back into the room. Another glanced message between the servant and the Margrave took place. But none of the six seated men actually said anything. The Margrave once again remarked the Minister’s agitated use of his hands as he thought.

Then Yussuf found his tongue once more. He began hesitatingly: “Several generations ago, more than several actually, we... I... my... our… THE tribe lived er... not that distant from a township far off to the west, near to the edge of the vast desert there.” He visibly gathered himself together. “The township we today call Davenarga. A few marks to the south west of the edge of the town was then the edge of desert, it had not yet encroached as much as I understand it has today, but on the eastern side there were mostly green fields where people could till, sow and harvest.

“The tribe had claimed to itself a set of fields strategically situated close to the Trade Route; a trade route that actually still exists, for ’tis the ancient Chivan one that joins the Great Valley in what was, before Yod and once again has reverted to being, Lower Fanir.

“In those days, there was no local irrigation there but I have heard that there might be some now, put in three or four generations ago. I heard this before the war from a downriver trading partner who himself had heard it from one of the Wagonmasters that once took that long, long, long journey. ’Twas from there I received my more modern descriptions of the landscape thereabouts.

“However, back to our family history. A run of years of drought, some disease, creeping sands and raiders persuaded one of the sons of the tribal leader to take a large group of the younger ones to search for a more reliable home. At first, they followed the Trade Route to the east and after a few days, maybe even weeks for they could not travel swiftly, they came across a large river flowing generally, but with several bends, from the north east down towards the south west. A village had grown where the Trade Route crossed this river and they reached it just as a flotilla of three ships were about to leave to follow this river down its course, back to where they had come from.

“Talks and negotiating persuaded the leader of this band of fifty or so to board the flotilla and float along with them. They had dealt honestly with the traders on the ships but once away from other civilised persons, they discovered they were heading for a life of slavery as all their items of value were forcibly removed. In those days many of the rapids and falls were not as navigable as they are now, but this winding river gradually changed its general course from heading south west to heading south. Mountains began to appear and the river curved its general course even more to the east. The breakaway tribe were put to work as porters to carry loads and ships across the rougher parts of the river.

“Six years of this slavery went past until one year the leaders of the shippers just didn’t return. The slaves revolted and, once the survivors had regathered, they decided to follow the river still. It turned out to be our very own Sirrel. The ship they had also ‘liberated’ lasted all the way to here. They carried it down the well-worn footpath where the steep slope of the Valley led to where these strange rock walls enclose the land. At a point near where another river crashed in from the left, the ship finally collapsed. The thirty two surviving members of the tribe were wary, but the locals here were basically welcoming, particularly when the tribe demonstrated a good knowledge of farming. And a willingness to work hard.”

Yussuf paused then. His change of pronouns from now on did not go unremarked by any of the other men.

“And so we stayed. Put our roots down where we had landed, wearied by the trials and tribulations we had undergone.”

“I am myself at least four generations after that, but I suspect there may have been twice as many, maybe even more. Accurate records were not kept. I knew my grandfather, who said he knew HIS grandfather. He claimed the same could be said of that one too.”

The others were all taken by the passion and emotions evident in the Minister’s recounting. And the obvious pride.

“I knew all that not,” said the Margrave. “I just knew that we had a well-integrated minority community here, one of which all Faralmark could be proud.

“Tell us more of your own particular life, Minister, for that has more relevance to our deliberations.”

After pouring a glass of water and taking a sip, Yussuf began again.

“My father was a wine grower but his passion for his few rest days was to go fishing. And when he went fishing, he took his son along with him. And so I learnt the ways of the waters from a very early age. Somehow they enchanted me and I could consider no other life other than one afloat.

“I was an only child and when my father decided that age dictated he rested, the vines were sold to another, he knowing that I would not continue the family traditions. With nothing to do after a lifetime of toil, he lasted just a few more months, and my mother went not long after he did.

“By that time, I had a burgeoning business, mostly trading up and down the Faral river, with some excursions across to Zebrin, where I swiftly learnt many of the routes through their marshes there at the great bend. I and my wife had then a hand of trading vessels which were frankly barely fit for purpose. So I started thinking of ways to improve them. I designed a craft shape that I felt would serve us and the communities I dealt with far better.

“After asking around, checking with river captains, sending messages and so on, I was persuaded I had found the right boatyard to make this new craft. One that had the right balance of expertise and hardy timbers. I had seen many of our craft up here built of local wood that either twisted or cracked under stress. After long, detailed and sometimes heated discussions with my wife, I left her to run our business and took passage aboard a boat heading downriver. I was extremely nervous the whole way, for I had with me my entire riches, which I could only hope would cover the cost of a ship such as I had designed. I...”

“You say your wife ran your business in your absence, Minister?” asked the Margrave with a certain amount of surprise. “Is she also a formidable sailor upon our waters?”

“Regrettably not, Your Grace. She was ... is ... more than competent in the organising, but she had to employ more nautically-inclined captains for our rickety fleet. She did manage to amass a small profit for ourselves in the eight months I was away, and the captains were also happy with the contracts she arranged.”

The Landgrave asked: “Does your wife assist you now?”

“Umm … excuse me, I know not how to address you … ?” replied a worried-looking Yussuf.

The three men laughed briefly. “We are all Your Graces!” replied the Landgrave for them all.

Oh, that could get confusing! He looked up and saw the others smiling broadly.

Cringe.

“Err, did I say that aloud?” said Yussuf, with a hand across his mouth and hoping against hope that he hadn’t.

They all smilingly nodded back at him. He felt his face aflame. But he also felt his smile trying to break out.

“Indeed you did, my Minister.” The Margrave’s eyes were twinkling. “And perhaps we should refer to you as a Craftmaster, seeing as you controlled all those river-borne craft.”

There were smiles all round.

There was a pause.

“So,” repeated the Landgrave, “your wife?”

The colour left his cheeks almost as rapidly as it had arrived. The sudden contrast was shocking. The three leaders looked at each other in some concern.

“At present, no, she does NOT do so.”

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was no time to take this thread any further, that brief statement having been said with such finality. All of which left the conversation hanging, with that associated awkwardness.

Eventually they teased out the rest of Yussuf’s tale, learnt of the purchase of the new craft, one a year after the initial construction of the first pair. For Yussuf had in fact carried with him sufficient funds for two boats, a fact that was pleasantly surprising to him at the time but which delayed his departure of course.

He went on to describe the making of various contracts whilst he waited for completion and he even managed to cover the costs of his return home with a temporary crew AND the costs of hiring a captain and crew for his unexpected second vessel.

These new craft enabled his business to expand and soon his profits were mounting. When the war came, he had twelve of them, all plying their business downstream at the time the Yodans confiscated them.
His tale petered out soon after.

“Indeed, my dear Margrave,” started the Grand Duke, “I can understand this man’s extremely impressive credentials. But I have detected a certain lack in some of his knowledge, and I myself would better understand some of the things your messages have told us but I am not certain I have fully grasped, ...” the Landgrave nodded in agreement as Mirdul’s ruler said this, “… or have been able accurately to fit into the overall picture. Be pleased now to tell us your remarkable tale in detail.”

“Very well, but first allow me to order some fresh pel. And maybe a small pastry or two? My tale shall be long and complex, so mayhap we should all make ourselves more comfortable before I commence?”

Upon receiving nods of acceptance, the Margrave called out: “Pagward, we shall all go and relieve ourselves and return here in a hand of moments. Please arrange for the pel to be refreshed for ALL here, and renew the water in the carafes and so on.”

The servant who had earlier slipped out to get a message passed to Master Lim, snapped to attention and replied: “As you command, Your Grace.”

… … …

Yussuf’s mouth dropped open again and again as the tale the Margrave related unfolded. His mouth was not the only one. Audible gasps from all around arose when Simbran used the top sheet of paper from what Yussuf had originally thought was an off-white rectangular block. One of those non-twigs was revealed to be a ‘reedlet’. They looked at each other in wonderment as the Margrave demonstrated their use. All of them were sufficiently intelligent to grasp the major changes this would make.

Stars, suns, planets! People that have travelled from other planets! Education and schools for all! New numbers! The war with Yod was fought for control of knowledge! Steam engines, electricity, railroads, new clocks! New times, even! Paper, printing!

“Surely, Your Grace, you jest?”

“I jest not, Minister. I have been shown various proofs of all this and am quite certain that I can absolutely claim all to be true. It was those proofs that convinced me of my course of action.”

The Margrave answered several questions from the advisors with a dignified certainty which went a long way to convince the five shocked listeners.

A cough from the doorway made the Margrave glance up in that direction.

“Your Grace,” said young Pagward, “the bells indicate that there is but a quarter bell until the scheduled time of the luncheon.”

“Ah! Thank you, Pagward. We shall make our way to the dining hall, via the facilities, I would suggest. The two of you,” the Margrave indicated the other servant standing there, “should slide off now and eat. We shall all return here to recommence in a bell exactly. Please arrange for the refreshments to be renewed and replenished whilst we are out. And either you or Foost should arrange with the Captain to ensure that no-one else enters these rooms whilst we are out.”

“As you command, Your Grace!”

And so the six men sat together and were introduced to forks. The advantages soon became abundantly clear. And thanks were effusive as Simbran donated each of them with a fork to take away with them.

They all peppered the Margrave with questions which he answered openly and honestly. Yussuf learnt early on that the Landgrave’s advisor was named Gerry, whilst the other was named Shant.

In answering the multitude of questions thrown his way, Simbran was most persuasive and by the end of their meal the entire party found that they accepted the incredible things he had told them.

Shortly after, they returned to the conference room that the Margrave’s office had now become. A very animated group of leaders and advisors.

They settled in, poured some fresh cups of pel, and turned all eyes onto the Margrave.

“It is obvious, I deem, that I learnt all this when I was all the way down in Palarand for that wonderful wedding of the King’s son, Keren. Good King Robanar took the opportunity of having many assembled rulers present to make a very radical suggestion, nothing to do with the young couple’s nuptials, but far more to do with the future of the Great Valley – and perhaps even wider!

“It became rapidly apparent that the matters introduced by Keren’s bride, Princess Garia, were here to stay. And will be vastly improved upon. It took some convincing but I did eventually believe them when they said that in the future, with those railroads I mentioned, it would be possible to live in Palarand, got to Viridor, the port city in Vardenale, and return to Palarand, all in the same day.”

The Grand Duke shook his head in amazement and said: “I have been down there and I know the distances involved. For those of you who have not been down there, allow me to calculate an equivalent.”

The room fell silent.

“I deem that doing that would be the same as travelling from Pakmal Town...” at this point he looked directly and meaningfully at Herso, “... to your Capital, Benmond.”

“In a day? Impossible,” exclaimed the Landgrave. Yussuf drew in a breath with an audible hiss, and both Shant and Gerry exclaimed aloud.

“Nay, you all misunderstand. That would be Pakmal Town to Benmond AND BACK in a day.”

Simbran caught the Grand Duke’s eye and nodded his agreement. He mouthed: “A fair comparison, I deem.”

“We are not jesting, colleagues. Our countries shall shrink, and shrink rapidly.”

A solemn silence descended just then.

The Margrave allowed the silence to continue for a while before saying: “I will let you mull that over whilst I recount some of my doings upon my return journey. But first I will tell you of Robanar’s idea, his strong suggestion if you will. In effect, he suggests we turn back time and revert to the Chivans or the Habarans in that we create a large amalgamation of our present-day countries. Each country would continue as they are and yet would also contribute to the whole. I confess at this remove that I have forgotten the exact terminology he – they – used, ’twas either either the Confederation or just the Federation. I shall use the latter in my terminology from now on, but urge you to remember I may be wrong there!

“At that point, just after the first conference which was called the Sirrel Congress - note well the name since it implicates all of us as well - then a number of countries agreed that this Federation should come into being.”

He paused somehow significantly.

“One of which was Joth. And one of which was … Faralmark.”

He grinned as his listeners all showed yet again their surprise.

“At that point, due to the distance I had to travel to get home, I departed. Most of the other leaders there continued on to Dekarran for another marriage, this time that of Robanar’s brother Gilbanar’s son. And there they held another session of the Sirrel Congress. Messages delivered to me since, by the Valley Messenger Service of course, inform me that, after that second Congress meeting, the other lands all signed up for it.

“Gentlemen, there exists even as we speak a wondrous alliance of the lands of the lower Sirrel. And Faralmark is already a part of that alliance. But I shall return to this in a little while.

“We left Palarand laden with many messages for places through which we would pass; and we pushed very hard. Normally a traveller in this direction overnights in Brikant for their first stop, but we went further to try to reduce the next days’ loads. We passed Brikant and headed down towards Terban getting around halfway to that ferry slip.

“The next day we had a rather longer wait for a ferry than I would have preferred and we pushed hard again across Brugan. Again we passed the town itself and headed for the next ferry at West Haral. Another night in a country roadhouse. We managed this fast pace partly due to the fact that we had no need to deliver packages and messages, these lands being near enough to Palarand that the senders required no assistance, or they were already in touch by using the semaphore. This ...”

“What was that name you used? Semaform?”

“Semaphore, actually – s, e, m, a, p, h, o, r, e. But that is also for later. I must needs return to my journey, lest something gets omitted.”

He took a sip of water.

“This time the ferry was prompt and we reached the soil of Virgulend early enough for us to be able to push and push and push. We managed to get as far as the ferry slip at Treen, but I confess we had exhausted the animals, not just ourselves. The beds that night could have been equipped with rock mattresses, I doubt we would have noticed.

“Nearly straight out of bed the next morning took us directly onto another ferry. At that place the country of Smordan is not very wide. We rode gently across to the far side, to yet another ferry slip, this time at Hirdam. Why gently you may ask? Simply because I had business to conduct in Smordan, specifically in Hirdam. What I did there is mostly of interest to the Minister here, so I will speak the details to him at a later occasion. However, I will mention that soon we shall have here a small flotilla of the best cargo vessels on the Sirrel.”

He nodded to Yussuf who smiled back. “Eh, CRAFTMaster?” Again, Simbran had produced just the right tone between relaxation and importance. All had a chuckle at that remark.

“We spent a day there making the necessary arrangements for all that I wanted. The overnight there was most comfortable. We crossed in the morning to Thorn on the island of Joth from where we made our leisurely way down to Joth City with many packages and messages for those in the Duke’s Mansion. Her Grace Fanis is a very capable woman and most charming. She insisted we stay there and found us comfortable rooms for the night. The animals were cared for and we managed to relax for nigh on a whole day.

“The next day we parted with a written message from her, for we had expressed a desire to see some of the troops and to observe the Boldan’s Rock area more closely. Her introductory letter enabled us to gain much information, much insight, and much detail in the way the battles fought there were conducted. We also learned the tale of Gylfi’s Rest. We overnighted in Hulmar to get an early start the next day.

“Once we had crossed into Forguland the next day, ’twas not that far out of the way to drop off the packages and messages we had for them. We also took the time to study those battle fields from the Forguland side of the river. After satisfying our curiosity, we returned towards the ferry slip but held to our right and diagonally crossed Forguland. We continued on to the ferry slip that would take us to Ferenis. We had time to cross the river that evening, but I made the mistake of deciding to take it easy. The delivery of the messages and packages the next day quite delayed us.

“That following day we had to push hard. I had business in Yod, for I was to investigate the country and the mood with regard to the Federation. To send back my recommendations as to how to proceed. The same was true for the Fanirs. Those back in Palarand weren’t certain how those lands would feel so soon after being liberated from cruel masters.

“We made it to Yod City for that night, but finding accommodation was quite difficult. We had a carriage drawn by two frayen and nine mounted armsmen so were treated with suspicion from citizens wary of authority figures. We were probably charged a premium for our beds which had to be spread over two Inns.

“My impression was that it is yet too soon for any organisation in that land. I started my inspection visit by going to what they had renamed as Yod Island, after invading it.

“Let me digress slightly here to explain how things developed. For ’twas a strange start to Yod’s expansionism. They first upset Pakmal, by taking over what was supposed to be a shared valley, the one in which flowed the river they promptly renamed to ‘The Yodan Watercourse’. They wanted the minerals available on the Pakmal side, presumably for forging weapons. Pakmal responded by massing an army on the narrow passage between the valley wall and the river Sirrel. We all, we lands up here above Yod, kept wary eyes out for any Yodan incursions but none came.

“Next the Yodans invaded parts of Forguland. They descended along the right bank of the river and took the two side valleys, not very big valleys admittedly. We now know they wanted to build embarkment wharves there but the terrain proved to be unsuitable. Nor would they be secret enough, far too many prying eyes for their comfort.

“So the Yodans turned their envious eyes in another direction. They studied the local geography and realised that they could establish a base further downstream, under the looming Boldan’s Rock. That area alongside the Sirrel would be protected along a lot of its length by the tributary river that comes down from the Ferenis uplands and runs through the valley floor almost parallel to the Great Valley wall, known to us as the Fer River. But in order to take this area, the Yodans would have to fight the armies of Ferenis. They needed to have undiluted strength to do that. But the probable thorn in their plans would be the armies of other upriver nations.

“So they started by invading the Lower Fanir Island. They feinted to invade along the Trade Route, Lower Fanir drew up its troops to counter such a thrust and depleted the defence of the island. The Yodans struck at night and drove out the defenders. The first attempt to retake it was bloodily repulsed and then the Yodans inflamed tempers by loudly pronouncing the name of the island to be the ‘Yodan Island’. Then the Yodans, keeping the defenders busy at the trade route end, invaded Lower Fanir at the narrowest point near to the border with Upper Fanir. They took the other defenders by surprise from behind and soon the Lower Fanir forces were forced to retire to their uplands up the narrow pass. Yod deliberately killed as many of the leaders as possible.

“Yod knew that they didn’t need to attack up the pass, they could just leave a force to keep those ones bottled up. They knew their great problem was going to be the forces of Upper Fanir who had now been mobilised. Nothing for it then, but to take Upper Fanir too.

“So they did. They sent representatives to me and told me that if we interfered they would block off all trade downriver. At that time, a large part of my forces were off helping in Upper Faral so my hands were tied to a certain extent. We thought that maybe Yod just wanted to expand, we had no inkling of their intentions to go downriver.

“Once both the Fanirs were secured, then the Yodans finalised their plans for the taking of that strip of Ferenis and from there invading Joth. We didn’t know that of course at the time. I was in discussions with Arch-Count Tofero in Pakmal and Graf Nuel in Zebrin trying to arrange a constant harassment of Yodan positions on my border and across the river. Anything that would keep some of their troops occupied, preventing them from being deployed elsewhere.

“And so Yod launched their final desperate attempt to capture or kill Palarand’s Baroness, as she was then. Coincidentally, and having already lost most of our shipping communications downriver, our forces gathered for a concentrated push across our small border river, the Fa, into Upper Fanir. Our objective was to push them back to beyond Faralan, but first to take the upper arm of that land and spread out from there. The coincidence was that, unknowingly, that was the day Princess Eriana and her Einnlanders took the fortress at Boldan’s Rock.

“I have mentioned all this is some detail to tie it all in with my later journey back here from Palarand. For what I saw and learnt in those subjugated countries was shocking on so many levels. All are naturally wary of large authoritarian units and they rejected my advances but they did not do so out of hand. I concur that they must spend first a great deal of time reorganising their own lands.

“However, both your lands are relatively stable, so I would urge you both to join the Federation as well.”

“This is all very sudden and I would require far more time to consider this before making the decision,” said the Grand Duke. “It seems to me ’twould be a great loss in our autonomy and I would be reduced to a mere puppet.”

“I must concur, Your Grace,” chipped in the Landgrave. He was about to say more, when Simbran held up a hand.

“I must confess that this exact argument was raised at that first Sirrel Congress ...” began the Margrave. He proceeded to faithfully present the arguments for and against that had been used at that downvalley event. He concluded by saying: “I would be remiss if I had not reported all this to you. But as Robanar insisted, there is to be no sense of being coerced. The enterprise shall be based on willing participation, on a mutual recognition of the advantages. We wish to prevent the situation as happened with Yod ever arising again, with anyone, Yod or another.”

This time, ’twas the Landgrave who answered first: “We thank you for being such a faithful messenger and advocate. But I require much more deliberation; time to think it all through, to formulate all the necessary questions that my brain is not agile enough to formulate right now.”

The Grand Duke smiled: “My colleague says it all extremely fluently. I have little to add, at this moment in time. I deem we would prefer to hang back for a while and observe how it all settles down.”

“Very well,” said Simbran, “I shall not press the point. Let us continue now as if you two remain … unfederated for the moment.” They all smiled at his choice of word.

“Now what does this mean for us? You should be aware that trading with us also means trading with the Federation! Minister Yussuf here shall be the Federation’s representative as well as that of Faralmark.”

Yussuf gulped as the full import suddenly dawned upon him. His agile brain whirred away and suddenly two questions popped into it.

“Then I must make haste to learn not only these new numbers, but this new way of measuring time too. I can foresee much confusion if we start talking with ambiguities.”

“Good thoughts, Minister. Now I deem we should start discussing trade between our nations. What do we have that you want and what do you have that we want?”

Smilingly, but also simultaneously, the two guest leaders said: “Wine from you!”

The Margrave replied with a grin, "I'll have some sent up immediately."

The Landgrave laughed and said, "We desire more than a bottle, I deem. Both of us want shiploads, Simbran!"

And so the trade talks commenced.

… … …

“Well? Did you find out anything more about our boats?”

“Dab my dear, that was not a priority today. At least not in the earlier bells, or hours as I must now learn to use.”

“Why was it not a priority? How else are we to survive? I told you yes...”

“Dab,” began Yussuf in a calm but very forceful way, “you need to sit down and listen for a change. I have MUCH to tell you and would wish that you reverted to when we worked so effectively together. You NEED to hear what I have to say. Now sit, concentrate on my words and do not interrupt. There will be great advantage to you if you do. You will not wish to miss this.”

“I don’t understand! Why are you… ?”

“No interruptions. Absolutely none.” Something in his tone made her sit and at long last shut her mouth.

---

Faralmark’s leading lights take the centre of stage

---

Disclaimer:

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2020 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2020 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

---

“I suppose I must thank you,” said Dab, a little grudgingly.

“Indeed,” Yussuf replied. “And Landgrave Herso, mayhap?”

“Are you sure? I remember it as Henso.”

“Herso,” replied Yussuf firmly. “And that is NOT on our point. You were going to try to keep focussed, remember?”

“That WAS fortuitous, was it not?”

Yussuf debated with himself whether or not to let it ride, but ultimately decided he needed to clarify the point beyond ambiguity. “You mean meeting with the Landgrave and him giving us, you, advice?”

“Of course I do, Yussuf. Whatever else would I mean?”

Yussuf grinned wryly and bit back a sharp retort. Things were after all much better since that evening in the Margrave’s rooms, the one after he had sat Dab down and forced her to finally listen to him. The evening before the Grand Duke and the Landgrave embarked upon their vessel to return upriver. Along with some valuable trade contracts, which were, are, useful both for Faralmark and for their two nations.

All that had happened exactly one month beforehand. And both Yussuf and Dab had often to pinch themselves over how their lives had had in the meantime such a huge turnaround.

In fact, thought Yussuf, we could har…

“Do I look alright for you, my Minister?” came a teasing, almost flirtatious question. Which dragged a hugely surprised Yussuf back to the present.

“Dab my dear,” he enthusiastically said, “you look wonderful tonight.”

He had a momentary flash of panic in case she chose to interpret that remark as her NOT being wonderful at other times, but his fears were allayed by the pleased and slightly coy smile she gave him as she wriggled slightly in her ‘best’ dress and her ‘best’ jewellery. Daret had also managed to do something special with her hair.

He turned and held the bedroom door open for her and followed her out to the staircase, her maid between the two of them. The trio descended to the house’s entrance hall where Dab started to turn right, but then checked herself.

“Will I ever get used to being in a new home?” she smilingly wondered aloud, with a put-on peevish tone. Yussuf and Daret laughed. Jafes, as usual, retained an impressive face, but his eyes told a different story with their twinkle. The other two household members, Confet the cook and young Timit, smiled broadly and openly, despite Jafes’ subsequent frowns at them.

“Shall I send Timit for the guards, Minister?”

“Indeed so, Jafes, thank you. We shall attend them outside in the front courtyard. ’Tis a warm evening and I deem the wretched fiktis have yet to gather. However,” his voice dropped into a mock gloomy tone, “I have no doubt they are even now conserving their strength for our return journey!”

“Daret has some loose covers with us, dear! In her carrybag. We shall be protected to a certain degree as we scurry back.” Dab was actually smiling along with him.

“Excellent foreplanning. ’Tis a delight to have the administrative Dab back once more.”

Dab frowned as she briefly remembered those darker days she had recently had. She smiled once more, this time ’twas just a tad forced, and then started to give Daret some quick instruction as to how to behave once they got to the Fortress. She broke off to ask Yussuf yet again for the name of the Margrave’s guest they would be meeting this time. There was a time recently he would have been irritated at having to answer the same question over and over, but he bit that reaction down. Positive, Yussuf, be positive.

“’Tis the Magel Gorgay, the leader of Upper Faral tonight. He has his wife with him, but I know not yet her name, and he has two advisors also. They came down the Faral River the day before yesterday after the Margrave strongly suggested that the Magel does so.”

Dab gave an acknowledging nod.

“Last week, Daret,” said Dab, turning once more to her maid, “we helped entertain the leader of Jestik, on that first night when you three all joined our household. You will remember we barely had time to greet you and show you round before we had to leave to go to the dinner. The week before that, ’twas the rulers of Vosanal and Hofer who had made the journey here to see the Margrave. We still lived in our old house then. And work had only just really started on the ‘Royal’ Dock here.

“This being your first time at a diplomatic function up at the Fortress, then no doubt you have some concerns. But fear not, we have thought of that; there shall be other servants there this evening who have all been instructed to help you find your feet, so there really is no need to look so scared!”

“Mistress, I regret I do not tolerate crowds too well. I am hoping that this will pass with exposure.”

“Hmmm! I deem we must wo… Ah, lo! The guards arrive to escort us up the hill. Now, I should warn you that there may be some press of citizens on our way which can be a little scary at first, but these men will keep a passage free for us.”

The little group formed up under the direction of the armsmen’s leader, and they all shuffled out of the house’s gate, across the bareness of the Dockyard’s parade ground, and out of the guarded gates into the street. Daret took a little time to settle into the required rhythms - which actually did nothing to settle her nerves.

In order to attempt to do just that, Yussuf decided to explain the circumstances to her as they went, trusting that his explanation would be sufficient to distract her thoughts.

“Soon after the Margrave saw fit to appoint me to the post of Minister for Trade and Transport, my elevation became public knowledge. Every day I was met as I made my way from our home to my office by increasing numbers of citizens, all of whom attempted to persuade me to appoint them or their friends and relatives to some contract or position. They tried everything up to and including manhandling me. I was late for several meetings and the Margrave decided this was now enough; he would have to assign a bodyguard to my travel to and from work.

“However, we immediately had several problems with that.

“First was that the cadre of armsmen serving the Margrave directly was already stretched with their current load of duties.

“Second was that we had no place to accommodate a permanent squad at our home.

“Third was that I required assistance only when I was walking to and from work.” He smiled cynically at that moment. “The nuisance-bringers have yet to think of disturbing Dab as she goes about her day,” he continued, somewhat pessimistically.

“Now, in those early days, the MarGRAVE ...” Yussuf had to raise his voice slightly as a sudden crowd of petitioners noisily tried to gain his attention. The surge of this crowd clearly worried Daret. Yussuf continued “ … took the time to thoroughly brief me on the events that had happened downriver when he was there. These sessions were very intense but he had the sense to split the narrative up into several sections, to give me time to absorb it all.

“One of those sessions involved the happenings surrounding a Royal Princess of Palarand named Eriana. I shall give you the background to her tale at some other time, but ’twill suffice for now to give you just the more relevant information. Her High...”

He broke off again as a particularly loud shout came from behind. All heads turned to see what had happened. A hand sneaked through the ring of guardsmen and plucked at his robe, pulling him initially off balance. He slapped the hand away, forcefully. The angles were such that the hand flew off and slammed into Daret’s right breast with sufficient power to bring a plaintive cry and for tears to spring to her eyes. He made a grab at the hand which was already disappearing back into the press. He strained to recognise a face to which the hand might be attached.

Yussuf’s temper flared. “MINISTERIAL PARTY - HALT!” he yelled commandingly. Everyone heard his infuriated tones and froze, guardsmen and crowd alike. With less volume, but still enough to be clearly heard for at least a hand of paces around, he continued: “Men, draw your weapons. You are commanded to cut off any hand or arm that encroaches from now on.”

A loud gasp came from the crowd, upon which Yussuf now swung round and addressed them all in magnificently irate tones: “YOU HAVE NOW ATTACKED A WOMAN AND HURT HER. I SHALL TOLERATE NO FURTHER INTERFERENCE with my, with our, free passage. I have an office and an assistant. If you need to see me, make an appointment with him. From now on, anyone who impedes my progress in any way will be arrested and any wounds they receive in the process of impeding me may or may not be tended by a healer promptly.”

He paused significantly. All eyes and ears were upon him.

“NOW CLEAR THIS FOOTPATH AND GO HOME.”

There was barely a moment’s pause before the naked anger in his voice made them all scurry away.

He turned to Daret, this time with much concern in his much quieter voice. “Are you alright, dear Daret?”

“Indeed so, Master. ’Twas not the worst I have had in my life. But without doubt the worst in the street. I shall be fine in just a few heartbeats. It shall not stop me walking.” But her voice was quivering.

And so the party carried on. This time, they covered the remaining ghally or so to the Fortress’ main gate completely unhampered and thus far quicker than at the rate that which had by now become normal.

When they reached the Fortress wall, they were ushered into the compound there by the guardsmen who then promptly formed a line behind them at the gate, all facing outwards with swords drawn. Yussuf led the two women across to the main door where a guardsman opened it for them, showing surprise all the while as he directed most of his attention to observe Captain Hannar running across to the leader of the armsmen that had escorted the Minister up the hill.

The door closed behind them as Yussuf led the way up the stairs to the Reception Room. His anger was fuelling the adrenaline that was coursing through his body, so much so that Dab called after him: “Slower, husband, if it pleases. We cannot keep pace with you.”

He swung round, instantly contrite, stopping with his feet on differing treads. “My dear, I must apologise – to you both. I was allowing my ire to lead me. I regret I was not thinking properly.”

“Your ire, Minister?”

Yussuf swung round again and looked up to the next floor. “Just so, Birug. The undisciplined rabble outside have tonight gone too far and accosted myself and Maid Daret here. She was manhandled and thus frightened enough to be reduced to tears.”

“Oh, Minister! That IS bad. Were there any injuries?”

“Only a very slight one to Daret. But my ordering the guard to draw weapons and my threat to the crowd of arrests with or without injuries managed to get us through. I deem we were able to surprise the populace sufficiently for them to withdraw for a day or two. But soon enough they will start to repeat. I know not what we can do about it. I had hoped that ’twas merely the novelty of this situation, the creation of my Ministry. I hoped that they would learn to approach my office rather than accost me in the street, but as yet, the message has failed to penetrate.”

“One trusts the shock of this evening’s events will manage to get the message across at last.”

“Let us so hope.”

The trio of visitors stood and twitched their raiment into as best order as they could manage, then Yussuf nodded to Birug.

Birug opened the doors to the receiving room, thumped his staff loudly on the thumping tablet and announced loudly: “The Minister for Trade and Transport, Master Yussuf and his wife, Mistress Dab.”

The trio entered the room, Daret conscious that all eyes were upon them. She found herself blushing.

… … …

“So might we discuss a little more of things hinted at this evening?”

Yussuf didn’t really want to, not right then for he was looking forward to his bed, but he knew he should; his wife would sleep even worse than normal if she had questions in her mind. He looked round their relaxing room as he gratefully drew his mug of pel, freshly made upon their return by Confet, to himself and took a large draught.

“Very well, m’dear. Where shall we start?”

“I would know more of this Princess from somewhere else entirely and yet a Princess of Palarand as well. She is coming up the Sirrel in some sort of ship?”

“Indeed, m’dear. ’Tis down to her that we have all this frenetic activity here in what has now been designated the ‘Royal Dockyard’. We know that she has reached as far as Joth after suffering some unspecified damage to her vessel and we also know that she departed from Joth City some three weeks or so ago to continue her journey upriver. We know her avowed intent is to reach at least us before she must return downriver lest the rains catch her.

“When downvalley, amongst many things he learnt, the Margrave saw the charts and maps of OUR region that the Palarandis have and realised that detail beyond Yod was not the most accurate. So he promised her more accurate information for when she arrived.”

He broke off for a moment and snapped his fingers to himself as he went off on an aside: “Which reminds me, I must chase young Lim up with regard to having those new charts available.” Dab and Daret could both see him file that thought away into some corner of his mind.

“But to get back to this dockyard being built where OUR boathouse was, the one that has now been so grandly renovated and has been designated simply as ‘Boathouse 1’ or as ‘Number 1’.

“There were, since ages, three boathouses here. All sadly declining, though ours was in use most recently. The other two boathouses were purchased to make this complex a reserved basin unavailable to normal citizens. We freely donated ours in return for some authorised use, as the Minister.

“It has been prepared as a safe haven for the Princess Eriana and her ship, for the moment she arrives – IF she arrives. I should point out at this moment that it is for HER that the word ‘Royal’ is in the name of this base. Which has been so constructed that an encircling wall has been built; and the guards’ barracks, and the storage house and this, our new home, they are all inside those protecting walls. This as a whole shall be a solidly defensive port, unlikely that any attackers would have it easy when attempting to break in. Although antagonists in the near future are not anticipated.

“However, no confirmation of any absolute certainty from Her Highness has ever been received up here. We do know that she has several calls to make on her way upriver which, we are given to understand, might delay her. My latest information is that she and her men have reached Forguland where they were met apparently with some degree of pomp and circumstance. She and her crew had been there earlier, back in the war (but that time without their vessel) after their heroic attack on Boldan’s Rock broke the back of Yod’s dominance. So I have no doubt that they shall have been most splendidly feted upon their return. The celebrations could go on for days!”

He took another gulp of pel.

“Had she simply made journey to here after departing Joth then she could have been here at the beginning of last week, or even the week before. So we know she has not been rushing. But what meetings, stays and inspections she has had, and has planned, we have no idea. And Ferenis might well try to outdo Forguland’s welcome, for they too owe much to the Princess. On top of all that, I’m sure any visit she would make to Yod would require much detailed visitation of several sites of interest.”

He paused for breath just then and took another swig from his mug.

Dab it was who filled the slight silence. “Now that is indeed quite interesting – I would also learn more of this, of her, involvement in the war! However, first perchance, we could come back to something you just said about maps above Yod? Why should that be, that the Palarandis do not possess accurate information?”

“Ah! I deem I can calculate the answer there. ’Tis to do with the valley itself. With the mighty river that flows down it.

“There are many small bends, many small twists and turns, but the river up here tends to flow mostly down the centre portion, rarely getting close to the Valley walls. This means that our countries up here are long and thin and crushed into the space between the river and the valley walls. Look at Thesk for example. ’Tis seven hundred or more ghallies long, from the border to our land here in Faralmark, all the way upriver to about the level of the end of Mirdul, where the river basically cuts straight across leaving but a thin littoral on either side. On the other side of the river from Thesk are parts of or all of Zebrin, Benmond and Mirdul.”

Even though Dab herself had never travelled quite so far on the river, unlike her husband, she could build up a reasonably accurate mental picture. Daret was floundering.

“But, in contrast, down below Yod, the river’s curves, and I am not talking about the individual bends and turns, just about the general flow, they sweep from one wall to the other. This means that the countries, the lands down there, are wide but not very long in terms of valley distances. Each major loop of the river creates a new land, their home soil jutting into the valley width. As opposed to jutting into the valley’s length such as we have up here.”

Daret was beginning to form a better picture now. Something had just switched in her head.

“Now it is some two thousands of ghallies, yes, you heard right, two thousand, from Palarand’s end by the ocean to Yod’s end at Upper Fanir and Pakmal. The Palarandis rarely needed to come up here so their charts show the GENERAL sweeps of the river and not the accurate curves, bends and twists. Generalities rather than specifics.”

Daret’s mouth had dropped open at the distance that Yussuf had described. It was left to Dab to say something. “Thank you Yussuf. I understand much more now, but find I have even more questions about this Princess Eriana, and then several about other subj...”

“If I may interrupt you, m’dear. I would fain allow my pillow to attack my ears, so may we discuss this on the morrow?”

Dab looked closely at her man and saw the creeping fatigue in his eyes. “Certainly, dear. I too find myself quite weary and all but us three are yet awake. Mayhap ’tis sensible to retire now.”

… … ...

“Mistress?” asked Daret hesitatingly. The two were alone in the relaxing room; ’twas in the middle of the following morning. Yussuf had long since departed for work.

Dab knew from the tones used that this question was an important one to Daret’s mind. But Dab could not tell whether ’twas personal, or about her duties, or about one of the topics from last evening. Or indeed about whatever.

“I have been told that, in order to be a good lady’s maid, then any secrets I may learn must always remain secrets.”

“That is so, Daret. I find that you are coming along very well. But I am also new to having a maid, so am not sure that I am the right one to give you instruction in your duties.”

“That’s not exactly what my question is about, Mistress. If I may?”

“Oh?”

“Errrrm, I have gathered that you yourself have not been your usual self for quite a while? Or that’s what it sounded like. And somehow the Landgrave Herso was involved? It’s all very confusing for me, Mistress and I was wondering what had happened and how I might help? I should be able to know your secrets too. And then there was all that advice last evening from Milady Franaka. I am a trifle concerned.”

Dab’s eyes welled up as a huge sigh escaped her. She waved a concerned Daret away though, used a cloth on the corners of her eyes, took a deep breath and began to answer: “Several years ago, the Master and I worked well and efficiently and ran a successful business using our boats to move goods up and down both the Sirrel and the Faral. The Master was often away, waterborne somewhere or other. We replaced our fleet of ageing and unsuitable boats with ones built to the Master’s design. Although I say it myself as shouldn’t, our boats were the best on the waters and our systems and contracts were all top-notch. The Master trusted me to keep the contracts flowing and to run all the crews and so on when he was away. I was his trusted administrator.

“But Yod confiscated our boats during the war, despite the river being supposedly open to travellers.

“With no boats we had no contracts, no crews, no income. We have since discovered that each of our captains were put to death by the Yodans and our crews were used as slaves – all because the Master had designed such valuable vessels.

“But before this, things were changing within me and I knew not what was happening. My Calls became irregular and eventually stopped. I was not any longer interested in doing those things that a husband and wife enjoy when in bed together. I woke often, usually feeling disgruntled and upset. I had bad headaches that were increasing in frequency. I was short-tempered. I could not concentrate as I was worrying about all this. Some nights my body felt it was on fire and I often had to wake us both up just to change the now-sodden bed clothes. My husband soon slept in another bed in another room. My joints and muscles ached, sometimes painfully. Those hot spells in my body started to occur in the day as well.

“I was depressed, cranky, with massive mood swings and even had a racing heart every so often.

“And I had no idea what was wrong with me, what to do about it, what would happen to me. And no-one to talk to about it. Our local healer had no experience of this and was mostly useless.

“I felt so very, very alone.

“I did not know that I could have, indeed should have, been talking it over with my husband. Although, frankly, he was suffering already with the loss of our livelihood, so I would probably have decided not to add to his burdens.

“We were at the diplomatic evening on the second day after the Master had become the Minister. I had a sudden hot feeling and was very curt even when we were talking to the Landgrave. I was so embarrassed and I stammered an apology, but he just gently smiled and said he was used to that since his own wife suffered the same symptoms. My eyebrows shot up so high, I thought I would lose them in my hairline!

“I wasn’t alone!

“The Landgrave was kind enough to devote to us a full half bell in a private room; telling the Master and I all about it. And he made suggestions as to how we two could cope with all of this together. He stressed ’twas something to be done together.

“No-one knows why it happens but it is apparently something that all women shall suffer from as they grow older, should they survive to an older age, which is quite rare.

“Just knowing that this is all, in its way, a natural thing for women suddenly relieved so much of my in-built anxiety. So many of my fears were revealed to be groundless. Almost immediately I found I could handle both it and myself so much better.”

Her face darkened. “This condition is relatively unknown,” she concluded bitterly, “because, as I mentioned, we women usually die before we reach such an age.”

She relapsed into silence.

“Oh Maker! I have myself never heard of this. My own mother died at about your age, Mistress, but showed none of the problems you have just described.” Daret’s sorrow shone clearly upon her face.

A sad sort of grin twisted Dab’s mouth: “Well I hope that you know not to use my name when you start spreading the knowledge of this condition! It shall have to remain about just a woman you know from somewhere a little distance away. Now that people know you are my maid, I would not want them to immediately associate it all with myself.”

“Oh Mistress, I shall be very discreet. And I must thank you for your honesty. It explains many of the little asides you share with the Master. And clarifies much that Milady said last evening.”

“We, the Master and I, are very much working together on it and I have noticed that the Minister feels happier nowadays as well as I. While still not perfect, we are MUCH better off than we were just a month ago. I have to say that the Master is a most considerate man. I have been a great trial to him recently.”

Daret knew she should change the subject lest Dab start to dwell on it. “Mistress that raises another question. He was so forceful last night as we went up that narrow footway, and yet he is always soft-spoken and considerate to us both. I was quite shocked.”

“Indeed, Daret. I have learnt over the years that he has an extreme tolerance but there comes a point at which it is wise to back off lest he lose his temper. He did so last night and those citizens will never be able to get back into his good books. I just hope that there was no-one amongst them with a good idea, for Yussuf will never now accept him – unless, of course, he doesn’t recognise him! I know that he must needs recruit several more men into his steadily increasing department, why today he mentioned that he would be busy learning about something he called a rolling road, or roll road, no that’s not quite it, something like that anyway. When he said that it would be a good hand of years before it came here to Faralmark, I confess I decided not to concentrate on the matter just yet.”

“I deem that has been mentioned before actually, Mistress. But I too forget the exact name.” She cocked her head suddenly. “I further deem that the bell has arrived for us to depart to visit your friend, Mistress. May I ask if she knows about your … condition?”

Dab was taken aback. This having a maid business was much more complicated than she had ever imagined.

“A good point, Daret. Yes, Mistress Zenab knows about it, so you may have no fear of the subject. She is a year or so older than I, but has yet to feel any of the signs. So I conclude that it is a situation that is not tied to any exact age.”

“Ah! That could be valuable information, Mistress. I am grateful.”

… … ...

The two women had barely returned home and were awaiting one of Confet’s pots of pel when there was a loud and insistent knocking at their front door. They looked at each other and were about to go to see what the fuss was about when Dab remembered that Jafes was in charge of her household nowadays and that she should await either him or Timit to come and fetch her, or at least just report to her. They could hear Jafes’ voice and an animated other voice from a man that sounded to be a little younger. The conversation stopped and then they heard Timit running off immediately after Jafes said something to HIM.

Their impatience was growing and they both unconsciously sat on their hands. Jafes’ footsteps came closer and closer. There came a knock on the door. Daret surged to her feet, suddenly remembering that Jafes did not approve of her being seated when in the presence of her Mistress.

“Enter, Jafes,” called Dab, after swallowing because at first just a croak had appeared when she tried to call him in.

The door opened far too slowly for both women’s nerves.

“Mistress, the Minister sends his compliments and requests that you should join he and the Margrave down at the now-completed dockside. He has sent a further message that says to assure you that this is an event at which you would want to be present. I have sent young Timit there to find out if anything else is required from here at this unknown event. Mayhap I should fetch your mantles? As you know from your earlier excursion the wind is keen today and the sun shall soon disappear below the valley wall. There is much construction dust still around this, the new dock area. I must add, though, that apparently there is a degree of urgency about all this.”

“Thank you, Jafes. Yes, I deem the mantles to be a good idea, if only as dust covers. Daret and I shall just use the facilities as we know not when we shall next have an opportunity, then we shall scurry off down there.”

And so it was that a mere five moments later, the two women were half walking and half trotting across the Parade Ground to pass behind the new Storage House and onto the still sweet-smelling timbers of the long floating dock that had been built there butting up against the back of the new river wall.

The two important men were standing together on the dock edge, half way along its length, the Margrave just behind the Minister as they both looked to their right, towards the mouth of the dockyard and the river. Standing a hand of paces behind them, and very much on the alert, stood a large squad of armsmen. Lined up along the side by the new river wall were a dozen, maybe three hands, of powerfully built working men. Right down at the watery end of this new dock stood clustered together a further group of men, a group Dab could not immediately place in the scheme of things. She acknowledged Timit standing alone here where the dock joined the hard surface of the compound. They trod warily across one of the several narrow ramps that joined the flat ground to the floating dock.

As soon as this scene came before their eyes, the two women had slowed down and then, once at dock level, they progressed towards the gathered men much more elegantly and gracefully. It also gave them time to have a hastened whispered conversation.

“Ah!” said Dab, “I recognise what must be happening.”

“What’s that, Mistress?”

“The men right down the end there, I think I recognise one or two of them as having been overseeing all this construction so I venture to suggest that they are here to observe that all happens as it should. The man in day-to-day charge is named Prokos and that is he there, in the middle, in the green.

“Now those men over there, the ones lined up almost against the wall there, they are cargo handlers. I could not mistake them for aught else.

“The armsmen are the Margrave’s guards, of course; they will be here simply because he himself is here.

“This all tells me that a boat load of trade goods is about to arrive. The first to use this facility.”

She thought briefly a little more as their feet brought them ever closer: “Now Daret, if we are to be present as well as the Margrave and the Minister, this must be an important cargo or – hmmm, maybe even AND now I think about it - an important visitor. Could this actually be the very Princess Eriana we have so recently discussed?” Her voice took on a most serious tone. “Whatever happens, we must act with the most graceful decorum, is that understood?”

“As you say, Mistress. I shall make sure I do so.”

The Minister, who had obviously been keeping a keen eye out for them, had turned and when he saw them, he beckoned them to him urgently, a most infectious grin plastered on his face. The Margrave turned too at his colleague’s gesturing. Even he bowed his head to them as they neared. The guards’ leader swiftly made a complicated hand gesture and the standing men all turned their heads at the same time and gave a formal salute, which flustered Dab for that too was very unusual.

But what flustered Dab even more was when her husband’s left hand sought and found her right hand, which he squeezed joyously a couple of times and then simply held it, his attention once more on the watery entrance to the dockyard. He quietly said to Dab: “She’ll be here any moment now.”

“Who will?”

He smiled mysteriously: “You’ll see!” But he kept her hand in his, which gave her a most warm feeling.

She looked out all around at the much-changed ‘lagoon’ as she had always thought of it.

Their boathouse, now designated as ‘Boathouse 1’ had been freshly coloured and the doors rehung properly. The long stalky legs, built to allow for the great height of the river in flood, had been freshly repainted down at least to the existing waterline. The roof was fixed and cleaned and the outside stair was tidied and renewed with freshly hewn wood. The other two boathouses had both been knocked down and rebuilt. Their style was somehow more modern, but still fit well with the old. Her gaze swung round more to the left and saw the new, much larger launching ramp and the …

“It passes the Faros now,” called a deep-toned voice from the small cluster of men at the far end. All there waiting along the dock stiffened to attention, even the group of constructors. The dock itself seemed to grow more solid as the solemnity of the occasion took hold.

Each of the heartbeats during which they were standing there seemed to stretch into a moment.

Dab had time to notice how perfectly Daret behaved herself. No fidgeting, no flashing querying glances, no agitated movements. A first and surprising glow of satisfaction with her maid spread through her. (Dab grinned as she found herself double-checking that it was indeed a glow of pride rather than another dreaded ‘heat attack’ as she mentally called them.)

Then Yussuf’s hand gripped hers hard, dragging her attention from her thoughts and up to his face. He was however gazing away from her, gazing intently at the mouth of the dockyard.

She herself switched her gaze to the harbour entrance where the outside curve of a boat’s prow could now be seen. The shape of the craft rapidly became ever clearer as it nosed through the outer markers, out of the main current, and there turned sharp left to head directly towards them.

Her breath caught in her throat. Could it really be? Surely not? But it’s so… Yes it is!

“Yeeeeesssss!” she squealed as she turned to her husband and buried his face under a ton of kisses. She danced on the spot, clapping her hands and squealing even more with sheer unadulterated glee. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you...” She jumped up and down which set the floating dock to bobbling just a tiny bit. But she did immediately calm down and trod from then on carefully.

She simply waved her hand dismissively when Daret whispered just loud enough to be heard by those nearest: “And this is the gracefulest decorum?”

The remark did distract Dab enough for her to throw an explanation in Daret’s direction: “This is the very first boat that Yussuf himself designed and built all those years ago. The one upon which our little fleet was founded. I have not seen her now for such a long time. Those wretched Yodans! Does she not look splendid? She has obviously been expertly refurbished.

“Her name - oh Daret you should learn that all ships and boats are referred to as ‘her’ even if they have a man’s name - is ‘En-dhow-ment’.”

---

The pace picks up

---

Disclaimer:

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2020 -2022 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2022 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

---

“And where d’yer fink yer goin’?”

Dab sighed deeply while laying a protective arm across Daret’s shoulders.

“I fail to see how my intentions are any of your business, but the short answer is: In there.” She nodded towards the Fortress and the temporary construction just outside its gates.

“Them’s not lettin’ no-one in, Mistress Hoity-toity. Yer’ll ’ave ter wait like what the rest of us all is doin’.”

“I think you may be mistaken, goodman. I advise you to just watch.” Her voice hardened as she continued: “And please remove your hand from my arm, immediately.” He snatched his hand away as an instinctive reaction to her tone. She could see him debating whether or not to reach out for her once more.

“Why would thems let someone like yer in there when the Margrave and that new Minister chappie is gonna make big speeches to us all gavvered ’ere?” His eyes swept up and down her as he spoke, noting her robes which were not the usual wear of women in Faralmark’s streets. “Yor a furriner, aincha?”

Shooing his reapproaching hand off, she looked him directly in the eyes as she leant slightly closer with her own eyes narrowed. She tried not to flinch from his bad breath. Her steely gaze actually made him back off just a little. “Mayhap because I am married to one of those ‘chappies’.” It was difficult not to laugh as his face showed his shock.

She deftly ushered Daret away from the pressing of the crowd and pushed on towards the large stage that had been erected just outside the Fortress’ gates. The man who had accosted her was left with his mouth gasping like a landed fish. She smiled to herself as she heard the man desperately trying to construct an explanation to his neighbours as to why he had been right to stop her. She was sure she heard someone telling him: “You always were a blustery blowhard ...” By that time the clamour around her and Daret was sufficient to drown out the rest of that exchange.

Another few heartbeats of wriggling, pushing and sliding through gaps brought them out of the press of bodies. A hand of unhampered strides then allowed them to reach the guardsman on duty. It was only then that Daret started trembling violently.

The guardsman there automatically began to angle his pike across to block her passage, but then he recognised her, smiled and greeted: “Mistress Dab, a good freshness to you.”

“And a good freshness to YOU, Airen. I trust you slept well?”

“Thank you, Mistress. We had no alarums for which we are grateful. This promises to be a day of action, I deem.” He lowered his voice slightly. “Let us hope the Margrave does not inflame sensibilities TOO much!”

“You could well be right, young man. And we hope for the same, too. See you later.”

“Until later, Mistress.”

… … …

“Good freshness all, I thank each and every one of you for coming here today. You will be aware that I have already made a few announcements since I returned from Palarand, almost eight weeks ago now, but this one today is probably the most important and the most detailed.

“First I asked you for patience and understanding as I tried to make good some of the problems set by the recent war with Yod. Well, I must say that I find it necessary to praise you all for that very patience, for your faith and your tolerance. I know things have been difficult for nearly all of you since the Yodans chose to disrupt the entirety of the Great Valley. With all the lost contracts, not to say equipment and many men, our life as we knew it has been almost violently overturned. And the aftermath has so far gone very little in the way of easing many of our difficulties.

“I have not been idle in those weeks and months since the war ceased. I have been rebuilding old and constructing new agreements, particularly with those lands downriver. I have had to, at the same time, help calm some outbreaks of trouble from several instances which were brought about by enforced idleness and a lack of information. And then there were other duties as well, so my progress was naturally slowed. At first the task nearly swamped me, but the very capable assistance of Minister Yussuf here, along with his wife standing next to him, Mistress Dab, has given me much required breathing space. I’m sure you will all have noticed how much more productive we have all been over the past few weeks.

“And today I can announce that the wine bottlers can once again start emptying their overflowing vats since we received a consignment of empty wine bottles from the Forguland makers yesterday and more are due in the next few days. We also now have the ability to start moving those bottles around in bulk, once they are filled and stoppered. The empty bottles are already on the roads and lanes to the wine growers.”

A cheer went up, markedly limited, but nevertheless some of his audience showed they were happy.

“That consignment of empty bottles was not the only cargo on the vessel that docked yesterday. But before I pass onto describing the rest, I must first hark back to my visit to Palarand and tell of some of the truly amazing changes that they have wrought down there, and are continuing to do so, and other stunning developments. These will affect ALL of us in the Great Valley, and quite possibly much further afield.”

The crowd seemed to settle somehow as they strained to pay attention.

“When I was there, I met no fewer than TWO new Princesses of their realm, neither being a daughter of King Robanar. Although their stories are in many ways interleaved, I shall report on each of them separately – starting with the one who married Crown Prince Keren and who will one day be the Queen of Palarand. Princess Garia’s background would be so amazing, so confusing and so unbelievable to us all that it would distract from the very important messages I have to impart today. Suffice it to say that sufficient proof was provided to us all that a dozen heads of states and their advisors and companions were all convinced. Including our very own Captains – Captain of the Field Woltass and Senior Captain Hannar.

“I do not exaggerate when I say that this young woman, younger than anyone else present there that day, demonstrated that her education and her intelligence is AT LEAST twice that of anyone else in all Alaesia. Her knowledge is formidable. And it is, or was, to be more accurate, precisely for her knowledge that Yod waged this war that has devastated all of us, even if we were not actually fighting. Yod’s ultimate objective was to kidnap Princess Garia and then to force her to reveal her knowledge. As a last resort, the Yodan forces were under instructions to kill her.”

A loud gasp arose as the audience let that last sentence sink in.

“Yod wanted all that knowledge for themselves, and for themselves alone. To lord it over all of us, the entire Great Valley.”

There were boos then. Loud ones.

“But Princess Garia is giving us - yes all of us, not just Palarand - this knowledge OF HER OWN FREE WILL. Which means that, in the coming weeks, months and years, we will see many changes come to all our lands. Some few, small changes in fact have already arrived. Some of you will have guessed that these were indeed a part of the cargo that arrived yesterday.

“But I still have much to say before we get to those details. Let me dispense now with the final words about the war. It is over and we all, all nations of the Sirrel Great Valley, have no desire for another similar war, ever again.”

He paused deliberately then, to allow a certain tension to build.

“And indeed in order to reduce the possibilities of such an event ever happening again, practically every nation downvalley from Yod has joined together into a solid alliance in which each nation retains its independence and yet all belong to the aptly named Sirrel Federation. Each nation will assist each other with development and with defence. And all the other factors nations normally have. Federation-wide decisions are to be made by a committee formed from all the rulers. But such an arrangement has many benefits, not the least, I repeat, being that it is highly unlikely that we shall ever have another war to contend with!”

Another pause.

“You should all be aware that I have added Faralmark to this Federation. We too are part of what is now known as the Sirrel Federation.”

It took a little while, but some of the crowd began to applaud. Soon more than half were showing their approval. The Margrave let it build for a few heartbeats, then held up a hand; it was not long before he was once more the centre of rapt attention.

“And now, ’tis time to make some introductions. To my right here, we have a most noble couple. They are the Magel Gorgay and his Lady Franaka.”

He paused to allow the audience to concentrate upon the elderly couple. A couple that appeared to be most frail. Some wondered how they had even managed to climb up onto the stage.

“As many of you know, the Magel is the ruler of Upper Faral. We have had deep and meaningful discussions in the past day or two so the Magel is fully aware of all that I have told you. He has properly considered all the relevant factors and has decided to reunite Upper Faral with us here in Faralmark. Once again we are united as one nation. A nation we shall call simply Faral.”

A few more cheers rang out which the Margrave allowed to carry on uninterrupted by his words. He waited until there was once more almost complete attention.

“I have now spoken with ALL of our close neighbours, and with Jestik, Vosanal and Hofer. Across the Sirrel Pakmal, Zebrin, Benmond and Mirdul are all aware of the Sirrel Federation. These nations have decided to sit back and observe to see how this all works out. I beg of you all to give the very best of examples to those observers.

“Now I need to mention the rest of the cargo that arrived yestere’en.

“There were many gifts from the Federation, gifts that demonstrate some of those incredible developments I mentioned that are spreading from Palarand, from Princess Garia’s knowledge. First they have provided us with a plentiful supply of something called paper and quite a few reedlets too. Paper is a cheap and plentiful alternative to parchment and reedlets are implements used to scribe upon this paper, without the need for complicated inks and associated care! You just need a piece of rag wrapped around them to keep your hand clean. Why is this important for us? Because I intend that each and every citizen of Faral shall learn to read and write! Man and woman, boy and girl.”

A huge gasp arose.

“Not only that, but each citizen shall also learn to number properly. For there is also a new way of numbering, using what are known as Garian numbers. Now I wonder where that name came from!”

A titter came from the crowd.

“Also in the cargo were things known as steam engines, at which you shall all be amazed but to which you shall all become accustomed surprisingly quickly. I wish to keep this address as short as I may, so I shall forgo any attempt now to describe the incredibly useful steam engines. Which shall also hold good for the beam lanterns that were included in the cargo. And the telescopes, although I doubt these latter shall be in very wide usage, at least not yet.

“We were sent several instruction manuals for the items we have received and also several samples of the new designs for saddles, for – yes – there are even new ways of riding frayen. The WOMEN of Palarand are enjoying their exercises astride their mounts as well as the men finding the new methods far better than the old.”

The audience were now stunned into silence, so the Margrave pressed onwards, confident that his every word was being listened to.

“The renowned seamstresses of Joth have sent several examples of female riding wear which shall be given to our seamstresses here to be able to create the things themselves. There are other items of interest to our womenfolk, things called hand mirrors, which are mirrors made of specially-coated glass that give a startlingly clear reflection. I believe there are furthermore other things of a womanly nature but frankly we men who inspected it all were far too embarrassed about that to discuss it amongst even ourselves. The Minister’s wife shall add to her duties and oversee the proper distribution of those items. I know only that we are now talking of various articles of apparel.

“Another gift from downvalley is a crate loaded with forks. The explanation of those shall become clear in time – right now is NOT that time. I know only that I myself could not live properly without mine.”

All those behind him on the stage who had themselves forks nodded their agreement.

“Finally, I must mention something else that was included. Along with the explanatory documentation, we have the spars necessary to create the working part of something that will enable messages to be passed from one end of our country to the other, and get a reply all in the same day! These things are called semaphore stations. That is sema, ending with an ‘a’ sound, followed by ‘fores’ as in foreshore or foresight. Don’t ask me why, I simply don’t know. But the workings of these semaphores shall be immediately apparent once we have seen them in operation. Princess Garia told me that they shall probably all become obsolete within a decade, but the advantages of having them shall more than outweigh the costs of constructing and using them.”

That stunned silence from the crowd was by now total. No-one could have expected such wide-sweeping and life-affecting revelations would crash upon their heads when they arose this morn. Maker! What other revelations are there to come?

“Now I promised to mention more about that second Princess, Princess Eriana – this time her backstory deserves some deeper explanation. Her origins lie in the rugged and mountainous nation of Einnland, a remote country on the south coast of Alaesia, somewhere all the way across the mighty Palumaks from here. The daughter of the King there, her father was attempting to force her into a deeply unsuitable marriage so she absconded with her ship and a loyal crew. They survived a danger-fraught voyage around the coast and crash-landed in Plif. From there they made their way to Palarand, leaving but a scant repair crew with their ship.

“After a little training in Palarand, they were dropped off from a caravan and then walked across the northern mountains in Shald where they entered the Ferenis Uplands. They made a successful attack from this unexpected direction on the fortress at Boldan’s Rock and sent the occupying Yodan forces reeling down to the valley floor. They even then swept downhill and cleared the Yodans out from the littoral down there. This shock to the Yodans precipitated their ultimate defeat. It certainly spread their available forces far too wide for comfort.

“After being feted and other much-deserved celebrations for her role in the war, Princess Eriana returned to Palarand and to her ship, which was now repaired and had been moved from Plif. After some time there, she left Palarand to come upriver on a large exploratory voyage. She told me that she would attempt to reach us up here, but we know not her precise timetable. Nor do we know what delays she might encounter. We must bear in mind that, at any port of call upriver from Ferenis, she shall effectively be an ambassador for the Sirrel Federation. Her vessel was damaged once again on her way upriver and they had several weeks of delay in Joth. We know they left there some three or more weeks past and have spent some time in Forguland before moving on to Ferenis. We await more information.”

The Margrave then took half a step backwards, saying as he went: “Now, my mouth and throat tell me I have said far too much so far and will gladly therefore hand over now to your Minister of Trade and Transport.”

A smattering of applause broke out as the two men on the stage changed positions. Yussuf was uncertain that any of it was directed at him. He looked down at the sea of faces all regarding him, most inquisitively, the majority of the others neutrally. The sheer volume of people made his knees weaken. This was something he had never done before.

But no-one would ever have guessed from his voice; strong, confident and carrying: “And I too shall wish you all the very best of freshness. Helped of course by the balmy weather we find surrounding us this day. I deem the late afternoon shall be a warm one, very warm.

“I can make such a pronouncement with confidence after thirty and more years of practice by navigating the rivers that centre our lives. I have knowledge of the Faral River from the Falls all the way down to here, and I have been afloat on the Sirrel from all the way upvalley in Stirmond all the way downriver to Smordan.” His voice took on a smiling quality at that point. “And when there, I took a wagon across into Virgulend just so I could boast of having visited THAT land too.”

His confidence was given a great boost by the ripple of laughter that ran round the crowd. Actually, the shaking of his knees disappeared at that moment, although without being noticed until later.

“Our Margrave has seen fit to appoint me to oversee the development of trade and transport as we rise once more from the depression that Yod recently plunged us into. Many of us were brought to financial ruin, or at least very close to it, by the stagnation of business. ’Tis my task to regenerate faith in the minds of other lands of what Faralmark, sorry Faral as it is now, has to offer, which means that my first major step must be to regenerate faith here amongst ourselves, for without that confidence here at home, we cannot secure solid and lasting trade up and down the rivers. As our Margrave so eloquently explained, lands nearby to us are watching very carefully as to how we progress in this Federation thing – well maybe Pakmal aren’t, they will require another century or so to make up their minds!”

A great roar of laughter went up then; Pakmal was renowned for indecision and was thus the butt of many jokes in Faralmark and Upper Fanir. Pakmalis were always depicted as being slow in thought and unintelligent, often with a strange kind of twisted logic. Sometimes the people of Zebrin were painted with the same brush, so as to speak, but the implied insult didn’t really stick to them as they weren’t as extreme as the Pakmalis. A typical joke for example was: a Pakmali named Sonroy goes into a tavern and takes a drink. A little while later, the taverntender says to Sonroy: “Your mug is empty, do you fancy another one?” Looking puzzled, Sonroy replies: “Why now would I be needing two empty mugs?”

With no training, Yussuf timed it perfectly when he began to speak once more, just as the laughter began to trail off.

“Seriously, we as a land are being looked at very carefully, so let us remember that we are living advertisements for the Federation. I have identified various areas that need attention to enable us to improve. But I have already negotiated, along with the Margrave, several trade deals that will help finance the required improvements. The wine business shall be the spearhead of our recovery. We now have a plentiful supply of empty bottles and tomorrow a boatload of filled ones shall depart downriver where they shall fetch yet more empties for their return journey.

“Our Margrave himself has promised to fund several of the development threads out of his own pocket. He wishes to demonstrate his desire to get on with things without hesitation.

“Among the first of these shall be the betterment of our roads and streets. The main Trade Route up the Great Valley passes along the far side of the Sirrel, going from the more desolate parts of Yod through Pakmal, Zebrin, Benmond, Mirdul and onwards as it climbs along. As a result of that, very little investment has been made on OUR side. As a further result, getting our trade goods to the neighbour’s towns or to our ports has become more tedious than it really should be. We shall start with the road from here in Bibek to the Upper Fanir border, near their capital of Faralan. At the same time we shall also concentrate on certain stretches of the road up the Faral Valley.

“But the roads are not the only things that shall be improved. Our ports shall also be refurbished. Some of you will have seen the construction of the Royal Dockyard, so called for that is where we expect Princess Eriana to dock if she should ever get here. But the Royal Dockyard shall also be reserved for more special uses; the commercial port shall be the main area of activity. Larger storage areas shall be built there, and also larger loading areas, increasing the capacity for vessels. We expect to be able to handle twice as many as can currently be fitted in, and larger ones at that. The more observant of you will have noticed some new features on the ends of the walls at the Royal Dockyard. Not just the walkways which will help warp the barges in and out, but at the very ends of those walkways have been placed some lights to identify the port mouths. These lanterns are known as Faros, a single Faro being on either side of the mouth. By employing colours, visiting vessels shall be able to identify which port mouth to use.

“But I wanted not to get into such detail here and now; I wish merely to mention the ways in which we shall be moving forward. There are several other schemes to be finalised but what I am essentially saying is that there shall be more ways than usual for those prepared to work hard to earn plenty of Medals and Dopars, Drams even. We estimate that there shall be hundreds of Seals spent before the rains come.

“Talking of monies, then we estimate that we shall begin to see increasing amounts of Palarandi coins up here too. Like us, they have four levels of coin but they are not so logical as us. We have of course 32 Medals to a Dopar, 16 Dopars to a Dram and 8 Drams to a Seal. But, and try not to laugh too much, the Palarandis have 4 Soos to a Fenik, 20 Feniks to a Solly and 10 Sollies to a Crown.”

Indeed, more than a few chuckles could be heard as the audience shook their heads.

“I would like to finish by saying that anyone who wishes to apply for any of the plentiful positions we have on the roads or in the ports, then come to the Fortress and ask for my assistant, Master Lim. He will take a few details from each of you and assign anyone to a final interview with the appropriate chargehand or project leader. We have a very busy period in front of us. We must not neglect our traditional tasks either. If they are not maintained, then we shall have nothing to offer in trade.

“And now you have heard quite enough from me. There is one more speaker for you to listen to before we finish, so, men and women of Faralmark, excuse me, of Faral, pray silence for Senior Captain Hannar.”

This time Yussuf tried to convince himself that the applause that rang out was simply pleasure that Captain Hannar was about to speak. He bowed his head as he shuffled towards the back of the stage.

The Captain’s practiced military voice rung out. “Citizens, I thank you for your attention. And I convey thanks on your behalf to both our Margrave and our Minister for the unexpected, incredible and exciting news they have imparted this morn.”

There was a generous round of applause which startled Yussuf. He looked at his wife who mouthed ‘Well done!’ to him. He began at that moment to believe in himself.

The Captain continued: “I was fortunate enough to accompany the Margrave down to Palarand where I saw many of these mentioned wonders in action. I can only reiterate the Margrave’s words when I say that you will be amazed at what can happen.

“Now when we were down there, just a small party of us, we all had many tasks to perform, and so it was that I was assigned to learn about several things that shall become vital to all of us to make and maintain progress. I have knowledge to pass on and so am looking for others to first learn the facts and then be able to pass that knowledge on in turn. There shall needs be a representative either from each corner of our land, or one who is prepared to travel to each corner of our land.

“We now have a new numbering system that is so incredibly easier to use that ’twill revolutionise the way we all do our business. On top of that, there is also a new way of measuring time which was complicated to me at first, but once it had settled into my brain, I find far more sensible. Of course, there are new words we deal with here, and there are new ways of keeping a clock running. Trust me, this will become commonplace ’ere too long. Documents included with the delivery tell us that they are developing a simplified version of the new clocks, something to do with working using springs, and they promise to send one up to us as soon as they have something reliable. They currently use a differing method of driving their new clocks, but for us to use that method here would require an expert, much schooling and even more equipment. All that will have to wait.

“Those wishing to learn these methods and to then go out and teach them, should apply to me at the guardhouse; there behind me now in the courtyard of the Fortress.” He pointed in the general direction.

“The Margrave also mentioned the ‘semaphore’ system. That shall be built as rapidly as we might and will initially fall under my remit; it will NOT be a part of the road building projects. It will require building towers in line of sight of each other and each shall have a cadre of operators to function. The system sends messages from one tower to the next, the tower operators reading the message from the previous tower. They then either write the message down, for theirs is the destination tower, or they send the message on to the next tower. Once developed, then I expect that the system will be taken over by the Valley Messenger Service, just as happens in Palarand, Plif and, soon, Brugan.

“And I would remind you that we are also, as always, looking to increase our squads of armsmen ...”

… … …

When the speeches were over, the principals all retired to their offices in the Fortress. Dab was with Yussuf and they had just started to discuss their returning vessels when Birug knocked. He asked the Minister to go up to see the Margrave, explaining that the invitation was for the Minister alone. Yussuf took his apologetic leave of his wife and ran, almost skipped, up the stairs. He knocked perfunctorily and marched in, only to pull up rapidly. And to blush deeply.

“Your Grace! Excuse me. I foolishly assumed you were alone. It shall never happen again,” he managed to stammer out.

“Minister Yussuf. Thank you for your oh so very prompt acceptance of my invitation.” The Margrave and his visitor were both smiling, so Yussuf felt a little better. “Allow me to introduce the Ambassador from Upper Fanir, Representative Olva. Representative, this, as you already know from listening to him down below, is Faral’s Minister for Trade and Transport.”

“Delighted, Minister. A most amusing speech, even if not entirely to the taste of those from Pakmal! But you certainly scored a hit with the populace.”

“I am honoured er… your Representativeness!”

Again the Margrave and his guest smiled. The Ambassador simply said: “Oh let’s dispense with all that nonsense. Master Olva is quite sufficient.”

“And Master Yussuf for myself.”

“Honoured!”

The Margrave then led the men over to the low table and indicated their seating places. After pel was poured and all had settled in comfortably, the Margrave began: “First, Minister, I must gently take you to task. There were several Ambassadors present today, listening to us as we chattered away. Rep... Master Olva was one of them. Another was the Ambassador from Pakmal so perhaps it was not overly diplomatic to tell Pakmali jokes. I deem that this should be a lesson to you to think a little deeper before some utterances. Or try to know your audience before you commence.

“On the other hand, it won the audience over to you and made our job of selling hard work to our citizens that little bit easier. So I commend your performance. ’Twas as if you were born to it, so easy and confident was your presentation.

“But just to get back to Pakmal for a heartbeat or two, and just between the three of us here now in this room – and I shall deny ever saying this if it ever gets repeated – Arch-Count Tofero down in Pakmal is about as decisive as a wind direction flag in a circular storm. He is probably still trying to decide if he should side with Yod in the war that was over months ago. It’s a wonder he ever manages to dress properly – unless, of course, he has someone who makes those decisions for him.

“Be that as it may, we pass now onto the roads. The Ambassador here has asked to be involved in the designing and repair of the road that shall connect our two capitals. He suggested that ’twould be to our mutual benefit to such an extent that Faralan might make some small contribution to the costs. As a result, I feel that we should be fully open with him and mention all that we have discussed about transport, with particular reference to those future things called railroads and our intention to widen the road to twice its current width, if not more. So...”

… … ...

“You look tired, husband of mine.”

“Indeed ’twas a comprehensive session with the Margrave and Ambassador Olva from Upper Fanir. Between you and me, I got the feeling that the Ambassador wants Upper Fanir to join us as one large nation, but would accept becoming an individual part of the Federation. He seemed to deny, without actually saying so, that Lower and Upper Fanir shall ever reunite into one country. But that will all have to wait. Princess Eriana apparently would like to visit Faralan for some talks before she gets here, and the Ambassador would be reluctant to make any decision until after all information is known. He is, by the way, not quite certain just WHO is now in charge back in his capital, such were the depredations visited upon them by those of Yod.”

“Oh Maker! That sounds dreadful! Surely he must have travelled back to Upper Fanir to get instruction?”

“It is somewhat complicated but I deem I can encapsulate the necessities.” Daret looked confused at Yussuf’s words; even Dab was taken aback slightly.

“Both the Fanirs, Lower and Upper, have a well-known strategy in the event of attack. Government figures retire to the land’s uplands, protected there by narrow passes which would be expensive for invaders to attempt to conquer. Yod’s attack on Upper Fanir was so sudden that only a small cadre of minor government figures made it up to their strongholds. In order to suppress any possible organised resistance, the Yodans then proceeded to remove any senior Fanirans. When it became obvious what was happening, some of these figures went into hiding. There are now several factions claiming to be the legitimate government of Upper Fanir. Ambassador Olva felt vulnerable there lest someone tried to either silence him or forcibly enlist his help in some move of which he could not approve. He deemed it best if he rushed back here.

“The Margrave believes that HE might have to travel to Faralan to sort it all out. He certainly had grave difficulties trying to find someone to talk to last time he was there. Much of this is the reason that the Margrave has given priority to the erection of the semaphores along the Faralan road.”

Yussuf got up from his chair, stretched and walked over to the big window which overlooked the arms of the Sirrel. He peered wistfully out at the riverscape. His heart lifted as he observed the more frequent river traffic nowadays.

“This job I have is exciting, important and to a certain extent, interesting. But I am beginning to miss the water. Feeling the currents, the waves, the wind. The feel of a craft moving beneath my feet. I deem I must have a day to myself soon, rowing on the river. Would you like to come along too, like we used to do?”

“Oh Yussuf, I would LOVE to. When shall we do that?”

“Errm, Minister...” broke in Master Lim, “I doubt that you shall be allowed to do that. The Mistress now has her own employment in your department, so there would be no way that the two of you could place yourselves in such potential danger at the same time. And I deem your rowing boat may not be large enough anyway, for Daret here would also have to go along.”

The married couple looked at each other and frowned. Lim felt it necessary to say that he had read their thoughts. “And no Mistress, Minister, your resignations are unlikely to be accepted. You are both now far too valuable to Faral, being the new name of both Faralmark and Upper Faral.”

“Yes, Slavemaster,” responded Yussuf despondently as he turned away from the window. And then he suddenly turned back again, peering attentively at the downriver arm of the Sirrel. He scooted across to his desk where he grabbed his telescope from its normal resting place and then swiftly returned to the window, aiming it at one of the vessels; once he had adjusted it properly, the craft sprang into his vision.

“Lim,” he called enthusiastically, “could you please run up to the Margrave and tell him the next cargo fetched from all the way downriver is about to arrive; add that we probably have a bell or even a bell and a half. Dab, we must go to the Royal Dock again. Your presence there shall be required.”

Lim looked at him doubtfully, which made Yussuf laugh. “No, we are NOT running away. I shall go down there and alert all those necessary. Dab you will be meeting an old friend once more.”

Dab looked at Yussuf, one eyebrow raised in query.

“Vesper Sha-dhow.”

“How do you know?”

“The Margrave told me the names of the four rescued vessels; you know one already, this one I have just told you. The other two are Dhow-nriver Dancer and Silver Sha-dhow. And the Margrave arranged them and their cargoes when he was on his way back from Palarand. Knowing that the repairs would take some while, he arranged for the cargoes to be delivered to the shipyard, where all were held in storage until the craft was ready to depart. But your question was how I can tell one from the other. Well, with this telescope I can see the boat as if it were but four ghallies distant.”

“Did YOU name those craft, Minister?” asked Lim.

“I did, Lim. At the time I thought I was being ever so clever, but the names just look dated to me now. But could you please go and tell the Margrave that a second craft approaches? Like I asked you to do about a week ago now.” He turned to Dab. “It’s just so difficult to get reliable staff nowadays, I deem.”

“As you say, Minister,” replied a grinning Lim before starting to exit.

He still heard the Minister though when he called after him: “And have you chased up those maps for the Princess yet?”

Lim had placed them on the Minister’s desk a scarce bell before. And Lim suspected Yussuf knew that. He grinned again at the remark, but turned his mind to the mentioned maps. He himself had been very impressed with them when he had received them.

When the door closed behind Lim, Yussuf picked them up once more. Indeed he had inspected them already but he wondered how much they would have to be changed again, now it was just Faral. He noticed with a frown that a town name was missing in the middle of Zebrin – Old Zebrin, as was; now renamed to Fort Vanip. He jotted down a note on his pad.

By and by, the incoming vessel was disgorged into the storage house in the Royal Dockyard, its cargo not to be trusted to the public storage houses up in the main port. There were three more sets of semaphore station spars and signalling arms, two more steam engines, another crate of forks, and some more telescopes. And even more empty bottles.

… … …

And so their lives settled into a routine, if it could be called that, which was rarely broken in those first hectic days as plans were drawn, positions interviewed for and appointed, systems designed and implemented. Two more deliveries from afar took place by which time the En-dhow-ment had departed again with a load of wine destined for Mirdul and Benmond. The pull of the water was great for Yussuf but he was honour-bound to stick to the ever-increasing number of tasks that he had to oversee and make decisions about. And when he had to stand in for the Margrave whenever His Grace was off somewhere for a night or two.

The routine was basically: sleep, eat, work in the office, attend lessons, eat, sleep.

Lessons? Yussuf, Dab and Daret had also joined in on one of the classes given by Captain Hannar, where the advantages of the Garian numbers soon became clear. As did the concept of twenty-four hour days which was explained, along with minutes and seconds. There was confusion as the Captain tried to explain electricity so that subject was rapidly dropped. When the Captain moved on to the state of the semaphore project, they smiled in appreciation when he said: “Without a second tower, the semaphore is useless.” Then he had continued: “We have first to decide upon the positioning of the towers, which, now we have those marvellous telescopes, can be farther apart than I had first imagined. We ...”

Yes, there may have been different decisions to be made, different people to talk with and to, but that was still office work. Still routine.

Routine that is, until the day Yussuf looked out of his window and saw a very unusual craft making its way swiftly upstream.

---