by Allan Joyal
"You'll be in so much trouble for this back home," Lydia pointed out.
I nodded my head at the one that had been looking at the ground. Shaylin was holding out a handful of hay and giggling as the horse devoured the offering. His head was rising with each bite. "Based on that one's reaction, I'm guessing that it's mostly lack of food. Remember, the harvest here was poor, so the city was rationing everything."
Amalya was nodding. "These four horses would likely have been put down soon. Piotr doesn't have enough fodder for them. Gerit and I did try to sneak them some extra food for the last three days. Romun back at the caravanserai said there is nothing wrong with them except hunger. We had him check them once Piotr decided which ones to give you."
"Too bad we don't have those little cups that can go over their mouths and hold oats," Lydia said. "That way they could walk and eat."
"We should look into making something," I said. "I think we have enough leather and cloth scraps that we should be able to fashion something. And we did get the three barrels of oats."
Lydia looked around and then snorted. "Everyone who could do the work is busy," she mock complained.
I said nothing as Verval led a horse forward. It was pulling the better of our two sleds and seemed to have no trouble pulling it. He smiled and then got Jennifer to take the reins while he moved to the rickety cart. He looked over the horses and then walked over to me.
"I think one of the horses needs to rest for today," he said. "The other three might be fine if we keep feeding them, but the brown one needs to fatten up a bit."
I nodded. "Steve, we'll have to pull the remaining sled without a horse," I informed him.
"We guessed that," Steve called back. "That's why it's empty for now."
I nodded again. Everyone seemed to be almost ready so I retrieved the spear, moved back to the entrance to the caravanserai and looked around. There was a growing crowd in the street, but the looks I saw were inquisitive rather than hostile.
The group was still working when Yveney's parents showed up. Her mother was using a dirty cloth to wipe tears from her eyes as they approached. The looked at me and I turned to look into the courtyard. "Yveney, your parents are here to say goodbye."
Yveney appeared from the stall where the sheep were gathered, eating some hay before we departed. She dashed up, carrying a shepherd's crook. The long pole was taller than me and had a pronounced hook at one end. It towered over the girl as she skipped up to meet her parents.
"I'm a shepherdess now!" the girl screamed happily. "They let me guide the dogs and watch the sheep."
"Is that all?" her father asked.
"She was working with Shaylin and Gertrilla on her reading the last two nights, and I took her with me when we negotiated for the sheep. She's a little young to follow the negotiations, but she has a good eye. We rejected a couple sheep after she noticed that they were near death," I informed her parents.
"She looks so happy," her mother said.
"We will try to keep her happy," I said as her mother hissed at something. I looked over my shoulder to see Esme and Natalie exchanging a quick kiss.
I turned back to see Yveney's mother glaring at me. "Do they do that often?" she snarled.
"First, understand that we come from a land far from here. Where we come from, not everyone has to farm, and over time more women have found that they can provide for themselves without needing a man. It has changed relationships. Also, the members of our group from that land have a hard time relating to people from Jord."
"Will Yveney?" the mother stammered.
"She'll most likely get married," I replied. "And I know Esme and Natalie want children."
"You'll take care of her?" her mother asked once again. "She'll never be taken by slavers."
"It will happen only if I'm dead," I promised.
Yveney's parents both hugged their daughter. Yveney giggled as she hugged them and then dashed off, heading for the flock of sheep. I noticed that the remaining carts were starting to move and nodded to her parents.
"It's time we got started," I said. "We have miles to travel."
The parents stepped back. Once they were out of the way, I started walking from the caravanserai to the city gates. People lined the route and I got a feeling I was leading a parade rather than a small caravan.
I was just about at the gate when the flock of sheep passed me on the left. Gertrilla led them. She was carrying a crook identical to the one Yveney had held. I could see the two puppies circling the flock as Yveney followed, making sure that the twenty-eight sheep we had stayed together.
I drifted to the left side of the gate as we passed through. The flock was almost to the crossroads and I could see Gertilla looking back at me. "Turn right," I shouted as I lifted my spear to point it eastward. Gertilla nodded and moved off the road so that the puppies could get the flock to head east on the road. A couple sheep tried to break from the flock, but Gertrilla and Yveney coaxed them into following the others.
"That might be a problem," Steve told me as he caught up to me.
"The herding?" I asked. "I expect Corwar and Shaylin will join in. They showed interest in the past."
"What about the fact that we just accepted a child into the group?" Steve asked.
"Jeff is less mature, and Yveney wants to help. Besides I expect the tale we were told is true. If we don't take her, the slavers will," I said.
Steve snorted. We were just exiting the gates when a man of about twenty years walked up leading two mules. He had a huge pack on his back. "Can I join?" he asked.
"Why?" I asked. "You will never be able to return home."
"This place hasn't been home since my parents died," the man sad sadly. "I can help. I know how to farm and I brought two mules. Piotr probably provided horses that are too ill to pull a cart."
I looked at Steve from the corner of my eye. My friend nodded. I looked forward to where Gertrilla and Yveney were. "Ger! We're going to switch out a couple horses, wait there."
Yveney waved and I could hear her relay my instructions as the carts started to pass me. I waved to Gerit to halt the carts. He looked over at me and then smiled when he saw the man standing behind me. "Gorm! When did you decide to join?"
"Two days ago," the young man said. "But I wasn't sure I should approach. I cleaned out the farm and brought what is still useful."
"Just two mules?" I asked.
Gorm looked a little down. "After my parents death, I couldn't maintain the tools and get a crop in. I had to allow most of the tools to rot away."
"Well, toss your pack onto one of the carts and then help Gerit switch out the horses pulling the two larger carts," I said.
The man went over to the carts. He was careful with his pack as he loaded it. Gerit had come over to take the reins for the mules. He led one over to the rickety cart and handed the reins to Hencktor before returning to the good cart.
I was going to help, but the switch went very quickly. It turned out that Gorm's mules were already wearing harnesses, so all Gerit had to do was unhook the horses and hook up the mules. Less than ten minutes after Gorm had approached me, we were once again moving down the road.
The road was uneven. I noticed that there were a few times the mules had to pull hard to get the carts over a ridge in the dirt. We were moving, but much slower than when we traveled with the dwarves. The road led us toward the cliff, but then curved away and followed the river through a canyon. The walls of the canyon were gradually getting shorter as the sun rose over us. It was still cool, but we started to see places where the sun had melted the snow and small patches of grass were visible.
The river started to curve to the left. The road followed, moving closer to the still shrinking cliff. We were about ten feet away from the cliff when something flew in front of me and struck the stone of the cliff. Everyone stopped and whirled to look at the impact.
I turned back to see who had thrown the object. Standing right at the bank of the river was a woman wearin
g the scraps of a skirt and blouse. Her brown hair was cut short and a strip of leather hung from her right hand. She smirked as the rest of my group turned to look at her.
"Ron, do you want me to shoot her?" Lydia called out.
"I think if she wanted to kill me she would have, and I don't think she's prepared to fire again," I said looking at the strap. "It does appear she wants our attention though."
"You that trade group that is heading east?" the girl asked in a harsh and husky voice.
"Be we them or not, your introduction was rather rude," I called back.
"What?" Steve hissed.
The girl walked up from the riverbank. She slipped her strap under her belt as she used two hands to climb over some rocks. As she reached the top of the rocks, she bent down and picked up a pack I had not seen.
"Her?" Lydia called out. "Ron, that means five people will have joined from Purahomp."
"Are you saying that we don't want more people?" I asked.
"No," Lydia said as she gazed over our caravan. "I'm just surprised. I would have thought we'd have to really campaign to get people to join."
"In a prosperous city that would be true, but Purahomp was not prosperous," I replied. "But this young lady hasn't said anything about that yet."
"I was going to," the girl said gruffly as she approached me. "I want to get out of Purahomp."
"Why?" I asked.
"That matters?" the girl challenged.
"Yes, it does," I replied. "We don't want to anger anyone in Purahomp and we don't want to harbor a criminal in our caravan. Someone asking to join has to understand that our goal is to found a thriving community and that they will have to be a productive member of that community."
"I expect that means you want me to get married and have babies," the girl snarled.
I shook my head. "Esme, this one bats for your team I think."
"I'm not against men," Esme called back. "It sounds like our new friend is. However, are you going to allow that to disqualify her?"
"More wounded hearts," I said. "Fine. My name is Ron and for my sins I appear to be the leader of this dog and mule show. We'll try to do formal introductions this evening. I recommend dropping your pack in one of the carts."
"Lenoir," the girl said. She walked past me and threw her pack into the rickety cart. I could hear Amalya mutter something as the new girl walked ahead of the cart.
"Let's get moving," I said, pointing the spear forward again.
The group started moving again. As we made the long turn around the rock, we found the flock grabbing a quick bite in a small meadow. The three horses that were not pulling a cart had been added to the sheep and were enjoying the grass. I worried a bit as the grass glistened with moisture, but the animals appeared content. Gertilla waved as we approached.
"The horses and sheep found grass," she called out.
I looked up and noticed that the sun was reaching its zenith for the day. "Why don't we break for a quick meal?" I suggested.
Steve nodded. "And we can introduce everyone finally."
A glad cry went up as we pulled the carts to the edge of the road and brought them to a halt. The mules and horse were unharnessed and allowed to join the others in the grass as Kariy and Heather began supplying food to everyone.
Chapter 30: Problems in Rockspire
The next three days passed mostly peacefully. Lenoir turned out to know Gorm and the two appeared to have a rather turbulent relationship. Gerit tried to say impartial as Lenoir mocked Gorm's farm. I finally had to step in and mediate. It turned out that the two had grown up on neighboring farms. Unfortunately, Lenoir was actually the daughter of a slave who worked on one farm. Her life had been rather harsh and she had seen too much violence against women from the owners of the farm.
As a child, she had snuck over to Gorm's farm and even helped with the crops, but Gorm's mother died of one of the many illnesses that can come from drinking tainted water. His distraught father hid inside a bottle of alcohol until he passed on a couple of seasons later. This left Gorm alone on a farm that really needed six or seven people working to prosper. In the end, he was forced to abandon the farm to Lenoir's former master.
By that time, Lenoir was regularly sneaking off the farm. She had a reputation for being accurate with a sling and often provided small game for the slaves to eat. The owner was aware, but stayed away from her. Our caravan had offered a perfect opportunity for the young woman to escape to a new life.
If Esme and Natalie were not part of the group, I think Lenoir would have started fighting with any of the men. At first they just talked to her, trying to get to the foundation for her anger. By the first night, they had figured out that Lenoir had seen sexual violence against her mother and perhaps others close to her. Esme jokingly and quietly suggested that all of the couples be vocal and very loving that night. She even provided the template as she and Natalie performed like porn stars under their bedroll after Victoria had coaxed the children to go for a late afternoon stroll to check on the animals.
The travel itself slowly improved, even as the fork in the road took us away from the main river and had us moving against the current of a small tributary stream. This tributary was visibly cleaner than the river and the animals seemed to thrive on the cold water.
Gertrilla and the puppies were learning to work as a team, and Gertrilla had no shortage of able and willing helpers. Two of the horses were regaining their strength although we were only using one to pull the loaded sled while the other three rested. Still the carts were great at reducing the weight everyone had to carry, so we continued to make solid time following the road. Four days after leaving Purahomp, we could see a tall cylinder of rock rising over the valley.
"Rockspire," Gerit said. "I've heard about it, but never saw it."
"Good name," I said with a nod. We were at the top of a gentle rise so I slowed down to scan the valley.
The valley was obviously the remnants of some ancient lake. The tower of rock must have been the last remaining evidence of the natural dam that had once existed. The area I could see was a wide expanse of fields. Most showed some evidence that they were farmed during the warmer months. We could see several areas where groups of people were walking along the fields.
"It's midday," Steve observed. "Do we want to stop?"
"Let's see if there is a field on the far side of the town we can use. This is too many people for us to want to pay for an inn," I replied.
"Can do, I'll see if Hencktor and Lenoir are willing to scout," Steve said.
"Ask me what?" Lenoir said from right behind us.
"We are going to need to camp soon, but we want to visit the town to purchase goods. I was thinking you and Hencktor might be able to find a grove on the far side of town where we could camp," I told her.
"You trust me?" Lenoir said as her eyes widened.
"Yes, I do," I replied. "Can you?"
"I'll find a place and be back soon," Lenoir said. She ran ahead of the group and was soon just a speck in the distance. Hencktor came over and laughed.
"She forgot me," he observed.
"Did you really want to leave Lydia?" I asked.
Hencktor blushed. During the last few days, it was clear that he had finally accepted that Lydia truly loved him. He tried to stay near her and doted on her when we made camp. The love between them was touching as Lydia seemed to regain her confidence. Victoria and Heather might be the fiery leaders of the women, but Lydia had become the heart of the group.
As Hencktor stood at the side of the road blushing, the rest of the group slowly walked by. I watched as he rejoined the caravan at the end, accepting a brief hug from Lydia as he did.
The road we were on turned to the right and started heading down towards the rock spire and the small town clustered in its shadow. I noticed that this village had a pair of waterwheels set up in the stream. One appeared to be bringing water out of the stream and depositing it in a small aqueduct that took the water out into the man
y fields. The other was connected to a building.
"Think they grind grain in the building?" Steve asked.
"I wonder if we could talk them into selling us a set of grindstones," I replied. "We'll need something to grind grain."
"Heavy, and we don't have the ability to haul more," Steve pointed out. "At least not anything the size of a grindstone."
I sighed as I nodded. It was definitely not something we had the transport capacity for, but it would be a concern once we started to set up our farm. Steve just nodded as we watched the flock move forward on our right. Gertrilla and Yveney had clearly decided that with the farms ahead, they should move the sheep to the road. The two girls quickly had the sheep repositioned. Yveney dropped back a little to look at me. "We're low on hay," she said. "If you visit the market, get some."
"And how do you know that?" I asked.
Yveney smiled. "Amalya told me," she said before sticking her tongue out and dashing forward to keep the flock from spreading out too much. I could hear her cheerful giggles as she ran.
"That is one happy girl," Steve said, "even though when we halt, she works on reading and writing with Shaylin and the other kids. She also works hard as a shepherdess, but she's still happy."
"We need to give her more time to play and find her some playmates," I said. "But there is little we can do right now."
Steve nodded. We were approaching a vineyard on our left. At least that's what it appeared to be. The vines were not in neat lines, but there were signs that they were carefully tended. Ahead, we could see several people walking along a hedge made from the vines. They were carefully breaking off branches and then depositing them on the soil.
"Careful there!" we heard someone shout. "Kill one of these plants and the Master will have you whipped until we can see your bones. Each of these plants is worth more than you are."
I slowed for a moment, revolted by what I was hearing. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a look of disgust cross Steve's face. The overseer had not noticed us and continued to harangue the workers as they moved closer to the road.