Pioneering on Jord

by Allan Joyal

  “Anyone coming to this side?” I asked.

  “No,” Lydia said. “Mostly what look to be small fishing boats heading upstream, although Aine saw one large barge that looked like it was floating with the current.”

  I carefully set the shovel down on the ground. “Shall we get going?” I said to Jeff.

  “Might as well. Hopefully we can do this quickly. I’m not eager to smell the town,” Jeff said.

  “Think of what it would be like in the summertime when it’s hot,” I proposed as we started to walk past the camp.

  We could hear everyone moving around. Verval was asking some questions of Gerit about the best way to balance the loads and on the possibility of reinforcing the carts to better handle the lack of roads. In the distance we could hear an occasional thump of a stone striking a tree. Lenoir’s encouraging shouts were clear in the eerie calm of the morning.

  The morning fog made the walk down to the riverbank a bit treacherous. The covered wound on my leg gave a bit of a twinge, but I was able to make steady progress. Some of the ground was wet and slippery. The boots I wore offered protection from sharp rocks, but provided little traction as I slid down to the rafts. Behind me Jeff cursed multiple times.

  “I need shoes,” he complained.

  “We’ll look into that,” I promised as we reached the rafts. They bobbed in the current and pulled lightly on the ropes anchoring them to the shore. I retrieved one of the poles we used to move the rafts and jumped aboard. Once I was on it I used the pole to help push the raft back against the shoreline.

  The instant I had the raft motionless against the shore, Jeff, Heather and Mary jumped aboard. I nodded to them and then looked around. “Where is Gerit?” I asked.

  “He’ll be here in a moment,” Mary said. “He was talking to Victoria about something.”

  “I was asking if there was anything she thought we needed today,” Gerit said as he jogged onto the raft. “I’m guessing we don’t want to make it a daily practice to cross the river.”

  “Probably not,” I said as Jeff picked up a pole. He and I began using the poles to push the raft into the current. Once we had it away from the shore, both of us hurried to the downriver side of the raft and began the process of guiding the raft across the river. The current pulled hard on the raft, but we were able to make some headway against it as the raft slowly headed toward the docks of the town.

  “Why did you need me again?” Mary asked with a giggle.

  “Once we get off, I believe you and Ron are to take the raft back to the other side of the river and then wait for us there. We don’t want to leave the raft here, it might be stolen,” Heather observed. “And considering the welcoming party.”

  I looked up at the docks we were heading towards. Half a dozen men were standing on the dock watching our approach. Four were wearing thick padded coats. They held clubs in their hands and were far too intent on our approach for my comfort. The other two were dressed in fine robes. I noticed that the hems of the robes did not touch the ground, but I could not see the feet of the men as I worked to get the raft to shore.

  We were about five feet away when Heather stepped to the edge of the raft. “Do you have a reason for blocking the dock?” she asked sweetly.

  “Ouch,” I heard Jeff mumble. “I recognize that tone.”

  “Are you in charge?” one of the robed men asked tentatively.

  “No,” Heather said. “Ron is in charge.”

  I had been looking down at the dock making sure the raft got close without touching. On hearing my name, I looked up at Heather to see she was pointing at me. The men on the door were also looking at me with interest.

  “Gerit, take over,” I said. The young man claimed the pole from me and thrust it into the riverbed to help hold the raft in place. I walked to the edge of the raft and looked at the men.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  The two men in robes shared a look between themselves. One was considerably older than the other. The young one leaned over to the elder and spoke. “I do believe these are the ones that Sofilt was talking about.”

  “And what does that mean to me?” the older man asked. “These people have a raft and are approaching our docks.”

  “I'm sorry, do these docks belong to you? I can assure you that we won't be remaining here. The raft will be poled back to our encampment as soon as we complete transfer of trading personnel,” I informed the men.

  The older man looked at me. “The docks are kept by the city, but it is unusual to have a raft simply pull up here. Why are you here anyways? And what reason do you have for camping on the far side of the Elfwall. The elves claim all of that land.”

  “We have their permission to remain camped there for a short time. Once spring comes, we will be striking out to the far east of the continent seeking a sheltered valley by the ocean. The elves are aware of our quest and have informed us that we will not be hindered in our efforts,” I said calmly.

  The young man moved to the edge of the dock, putting his face close to mine. “And that is what I don't understand. What bribe did you offer the elves? They refuse to even speak with me when I inquire about trading with them, and now you have their permission to settle lands they have claimed for generations.”

  Jeff had moved to stand next to me. “Mary and Gerit are ready to take the raft back,” he told me. “The current here is making it difficult to hold position. How about we get on the docks so they can get back to the camp?”

  I nodded and stepped around the young man. His guards raised their clubs, but stepped back after the older man swept his hand out and back. Heather and Jeff quickly followed me. We had to stand shoulder to shoulder on the narrow dock, and I looked at the older of the two merchants.

  “Can we move off the docks to discuss this? There isn't much space, and I'd rather not end up falling in the water,” I asked.

  The man nodded. “That is reasonable. Let's walk back to the street. I know a fine tavern that serves a stout ale. We can go there and sit while we talk.”

  “Negotiations over alcohol,” Jeff whispered to me. “Now that is the kind of transaction that I can shine in. But what do these men want?”

  “We'll find out once we are at the tavern,” I said as the merchant turned to the guards. Two of them quickly ran off the dock and made their way to a street that paralleled the river. The other two stood on the right side of the dock, opening a narrow passage between them and the water to the left. The merchant walked past them without looking back.

  I followed the man closely. His step was confident. As he walked I looked down and realized that the footwear he was wearing had platforms on both the heel and toe. This kept his robes off the ground as he stepped onto the churned dirt of the road.

  I was about to step on the road when the stench of the city wafted over me. My stomach twisted as I was assaulted by the noxious fumes. I glanced down at the road and realized that the citizens of the city used the open street as a latrine. The mud of the street smelt of stale urine and other filth.

  Heather must have noticed it as well. “Oh Jeff. And we still haven't found you a good pair of shoes.”

  “I'll survive,” the young man said in a stoic tone. “But I will be trying to step in dry spots.”

  His gallows humor had Heather and me chuckling. This turned into silent laughter when Jeff dashed ahead of us and seemed to dance across the street as he sought to keep his feet from the worst of the mud.

  The merchant led us only about two hundred yards from the river before turning and entering a stone building. The doorway was a simple opening blocked off by a thick fur that appeared to have come from a single animal hide. Heather put her arms around my right arm and leaned to whisper in my ear. “I want a fur coat.”

  I started chuckling again as we followed the merchant through the fur and into a room.

  The room was well lit. I looked around and realized that the stone walls had no windows. Instead light streamed in through some strateg
ically placed openings in the ceiling. Additional light was provided by two candelabras hanging over the common area. The room had six small tables set up in a circle around one large banquet table that dominated the middle of the room where there was the most light. The merchant was headed towards the second table to the right of the entrance.

  I noticed that his guards were waiting by the door. One looked carefully at me, noting the large knife that was the only weapon I had carried with me. He seemed to quickly dismiss me as a threat and started scanning the otherwise empty room.

  “Come!” the merchant said in a commanding voice. “Join me at my table.”

  I glanced over at Heather and Jeff who had followed me into the room. Both looked surprised as we glanced at the rather lavish furnishings in the room. Finally Heather shrugged. We walked over to the table.

  The merchant smiled as we sat down across from him. The room had enough chairs around it to seat eight. I made sure to sit directly across from him with Heather to my left and Jeff to my right. The merchant watched us and then waved.

  “Humbart,” he called out. “If you want to listen in you need to sit down. It's bad manners to eavesdrop on a merchant who is trading.”

  “Is this man even a merchant?” the younger merchant complained. “I've never seen him in Saraloncto before, and he hasn't said he has anything to trade.”

  “I was planning on mostly purchasing items our group needs,” I said. “But we do plan on selling both of our rafts before we leave our encampment. We also have a snow sled that was modified to add small wheels that we plan to sell.”

  “Interesting,” the older merchant said. “Those rafts contain quite a bit of wood and would be valuable to the right person.”

  “And we'll need all we can trade for. Our group is still reviewing our needs, but we hope to obtain two wagons and the teams to pull them,” I said.

  “I'm still interested in your encampment,” the older merchant said. “Humbart is correct. The elves have banned us from setting up any permanent camps on that side of the river for generations.”

  I sighed. “We aren't setting up a permanent camp. At most, we'll be there for about twenty days. Just long enough for the worst of the first spring rains to end. The elves are aware of our purpose and have agreed to allow us to remain there while we provision. If you are seeking a way to gain permission to log their forests, I will refuse to help you.”

  “You have no choice!” Humbart snapped only to have the older merchant slap him. Humbart put a hand up against his cheek and turned to the older man. “But Banford, they have access we need. The loggers of Crayolyn Falls keep increasing their prices. If we can't find a new source of raw logs we'll lose everything.”

  “Banford is right,” I said softly. “Humbart, part of the reason the elves have allowed us to stay is that we have already agreed to leave them in peace. That means we have promised to leave their forests untouched.”

  “But we need lumber!” Banford complained.

  Jeff raised his hand. “If you need lumber, we do have the rafts. Each one was probably originally assembled in Crayolyn Falls. We took them from some slavers. Now we need them to transport goods over to our camp, but we can probably trade for them. The smaller is at least twenty-four feet long and contains more than twenty full size logs.”

  Banford looked at me for a moment and then turned to look at Jeff. “That is a goodly amount of logs. But what would you want for the raft?”

  “Ron is correct that the first thing we need to obtain is two wagons and the teams to pull them,” Jeff said.

  “Mules if possible,” Heather interrupted.

  Banford glared at me. “Why are you allowing your seconds to speak, especially the woman?”

  I sighed. “Our most experienced junior merchant was killed yesterday when we fought the slavers,” I said. “Jeff here has some experience, but he's unfamiliar with many of the commodities, so I brought him along for training. The wonderful woman at my side is my wife. I'm sure you have a wife at home who helps you remember things.”

  Banford laughed. “Aye, although not one quite so outspoken. But you are going to be going into the wilderness. Are you sure you want your wife along?”

  “She is part of the reason I decided to make the attempt. Everywhere we have visited together we have encountered problems. In the end, making our own home seems to be the best way to ensure her happiness,” I said.

  Banford nodded again and then turned to Humbart. “This man has the right idea. Now what would you say to a trade of the raft we just saw for two wagons and the teams to pull them?”

  Humbart paused and rubbed his chin. “If they are trading for mules we do have the two old Privoncal Wagons. They only take four mules to pull and are fairly sturdy. We stopped using them because they have the smaller wheels and are limited in how much they can carry. Still, two complete wagons for a raft would be a fair trade. We'd be able to replace the wagons and still have lumber left over if we wanted.”

  “Could you throw in say, two spare wheels and one extra axle?” I asked. “Once we leave Saraloncto, we probably won't encounter anyone who can replace any that break.”

  Banford laughed. “For a Privoncal, we can. Otherwise we'd just end up throwing the pieces into a fire.”

  “Are the wagons that unusual?” Heather asked.

  “The wheels are shorter,” Humbart said disdainfully. “So the wagon has to be narrower than the ones we use now. That means we use a different axle. None of the parts will fit our newer wagons.”

  I nodded. “We want to let the other merchants know that we are looking for certain items. Can we conduct the trade around midday? We'll have the raft brought to this side of the river and can use it to transport the wagons to our side, and then you can take the raft wherever you want.”

  “Leaving you the other raft to move back and forth in,” Banford said. “I think that deal is agreeable. And if you tell me what you are looking for, I can help spread the word.”

  “Everything,” Heather said tiredly. “We want farming tools, some smithing tools, seeds for farming, livestock, especially chickens and rabbits, food and clothing.”

  “You seem remarkably unprepared,” Banford said.

  “Well, it’s more we know that coming back to purchase more goods might be impossible for years. So we need to purchase everything we might potentially need and can transport,” I said. “The primary needs are more seeds, as well as food and clothing to help us get to a place to settle.”

  Jeff nodded. “We actually inventoried the tools and implements this morning. One of our members is hoping to find some more smithing tools so that we can try to make a new type plow they hope will improve our yields. We do have complete sets of tools, and it’s now a case of finding additional tools. If the price is right, we want to have replacements in case of breakage.”

  “What about weapons?” Humbart asked. “You came to town with knives and that was all.”

  “Most cities don't like it if you bring weapons into town,” I observed. “Or at least that's been our experience. We have our weapons back in the camp. If your guards had tried something we had two people with crossbows ready to join the fight.”

  “From that far?” Humbart asked.

  I could see Jeff and Heather looking at me. I nodded. “I know Lydia is accurate at that range, and I'm sure she was watching.”

  “She?” Banford asked.

  “Long ago she decided that being able to defend herself was important. She knew that she could not win a contest of strength with a man, so she practiced with a weapon that removed strength from the equation. She's deadly accurate with a crossbow,” I said.

  “But she kept claiming she was aiming high,” Heather said. “Back when we were first all together.”

  I nodded. “It was to throw off Tuttle. She didn't like or trust the man, so she pretended to be having far more trouble with the crossbow. I'm sure she figured out the way the bolts drift after her first shot.”

&nbs
p; Banford was stroking his chin with his right hand. “I'll remember that. But I might still mention that you are interested in weapons. Some of the merchants around here have a surplus this year. The battles upriver were much tamer than expected.”

  “The slavers seem to have completely conquered Rockspire,” I informed him. “And it looks like Purahomp has been cut off from caravans. I'm sure that affected the interest the local barons had in going to war.”

  “What do you mean Purahomp has been cut off?” Humbart asked.

  “Just that,” I said. “The city isn't seeing many caravans and the ones that do come through don't purchase much or have much to sell. We purchased two carts there from one of the merchants. One of those had originally been commissioned by a trade group that visited regularly. They canceled the purchase and refused to pay any penalty, leaving him with a finished cart and no customer.”

  “How should any merchant I get in touch with contact you?” Banford asked.

  “We'll be camped right across the river,” I said. “I know it’s a bit arrogant to say they should come to us, but that might be the best way. Someone will always be watching the river.”

  Banford nodded. “Now I should go and see about getting the wagons ready for you. If you want to do some more immediate trading the market will be slow, but a few merchants always show up. Just head down the street away from the river until you pass the first guardhouse and then turn left. The market square will be right there.”

  “Will there be any issues with us visiting?” I asked.

  “Saraloncto is open to all,” Banford said. “The only issue might be running into Sofilt. He was talking in his cups at the Rusty Spike last night and was not flattering you.”

  “The elf Rowena told him to leave and return to Saraloncto,” I said. “We just happened to witness his downfall.”

  “He always was a prat,” Humbart said.

  The two merchants stood up and began to walk away. I held Jeff and Heather at the table until they had left the room.