“I am afraid that I cannot help with the footwear, but the other items I may be able to procure before you set out. By nightfall, this place will be full of travelers who are more than happy to trade goods for food and ale. Leave that to me. As for the information, what sort do you require?”
“Information about what lies east and north of here.”
“I see,” Tervaise said thoughtfully. It was clear to Elowyn that he was trying to piece together their story without asking them anything too obvious. They needed supplies, and direction, to be sure, but it was difficult to ask for such without revealing both their weaknesses and their destination. She got the sense that Morganne trusted these strangers, and hoped that she would not say too much. Even if their intent was pure, a slip of the tongue to the wrong person in Tyroc could very well get back to their mother.
“I can tell you this much … that if you continue on this road eastward, you will pass through a small village and several hamlets before you get to Port’s Keep, where many docked ships are being loaded with goods from the northern regions on their way toward Tyroc and the south. From Port’s Keep the road turns due north, stretching all the way to the mountains and the cold northern seas. It passes through any number of towns and villages, some memorable, some not.”
“And what is between here and the northern mountains if you do not take the road?” Elowyn asked, unable to let the opportunity slip away. Again, Tervaise gave them a somewhat puzzled, searching look.
“I don’t know much of that first-hand, as I most often travel by road. But from what I have heard, there are mainly woodlands, meadows and farmlands. Farther north are the great pine forests and seven lakes that stretch across the foothills of the mountains. To get to the northern-most cities, one must take the road. I have been told there are several passes over the mountains, but few have ever gotten through them alive. They are quite treacherous.”
“Thank you,” Morganne said. “You have been most helpful.”
“Now last of all, you said that you were in need of a courier?”
“Yes, to send something to Tyroc.”
“Since that is our present destination, I could take whatever it is that you wish to be delivered.”
“No,” Elowyn shook her head fiercely, “you mustn’t. It would be too . . .” she was about to say “dangerous,” but stopped herself. A courier who regularly went to Tyroc would possibly already know the man the packet was addressed to. The delivery would be made quietly, with any instructions she gave kept in strict confidence. She could imagine Tervaise, on the other hand, waving the packet about, asking questions, possibly answering questions about who had given him the packet in the first place. And if someone loyal to Braeden or Darik ever discovered what the packet contained, countless lives would be endangered in addition to those of Tervaise and Reyda. Aside from all that, Elowyn had no assurance that this man wouldn’t open the packet out of curiosity, perhaps read its contents. If he had pledged his loyalty to the Sovereign, he might think they were part of some treasonous plot, aligned with the renegades. He might even turn them in, not realizing his loyalty to the royal family was misplaced under the current leadership. She was reminded of how precious few knew the truth. No, he could not be asked to take the letters.
“It would be too much to ask,” Morganne tried to finish Elowyn’s statement. “You have helped us enough already.”
“Nonsense!” Tervaise protested, now convinced that he had at last stumbled upon something interesting.
“We cannot tell you where to find the person we are seeking. We know only that he is a courier himself.”
“Even better—I have used Tyroc’s couriers often to send messages regarding my business ventures. I’m sure I would have no trouble finding the courier you seek.”
Elowyn saw Morganne’s resolve begin to waver. She knew that Morganne was eager to distance herself from anything that might be traced back to them, and this packet was particularly dangerous to hold onto. Morganne’s purpose was mainly to escape, but Elowyn knew that she must not ignore the pleas of the dead, the imprisoned and the outcast. It was rare that she spoke out so forcibly against Morganne’s wishes, and so Morganne was too startled to protest when Elowyn stated in a firm tone, “No, I will not give my package up to anyone but a courier.” Her voice quivered with emotion. “I was given this task with great trust. I will not bring more suffering upon those who trusted in me.”
Morganne glanced apologetically at Tervaise and Reyda. “Your offer is appreciated, but it seems that we must find a true courier.”
“Very well,” Tervaise said graciously. “There are many couriers in Port’s Keep that make the journey to Tyroc on a regular schedule. However, be warned that as you travel farther north, the price for such services rises considerably.” Looking up over Morganne’s shoulder, he suddenly lightened his tone and expression, saying, “Ah, Griselda has returned. Is their room now prepared? It is getting on toward evening and it is about time they were tucked away for the night.”
“Ay, on that we’re of the same mind. Come, then.” The girls followed Griselda to a very small, dark room at the back of the building. It contained nothing more than an open hearth and a single bed that sagged pitifully in the middle. The room was not very clean either. The floor had not been swept, the walls were dingy, and the ceiling was black with soot. While Morganne was just happy to be indoors, Elowyn would have preferred a nice tree branch with a thick canopy of leaves overhead to keep her dry. She loved to fall asleep to the gentle tapping sound of the rain falling through the forest.
Elowyn began a fire in the hearth while Morganne put Adelin, who was now full of warm milk and very tired, to bed for the night.
“Perhaps we should have told them more,” Morganne mused quietly. “They seemed so kind, and willing to help …”
Elowyn shook her head in protest. “They cannot repeat what they do not know.”
There seemed not much more to be said, and so they sat in silence before the fire, absorbed in their own thoughts, waiting for the meal they had been promised. As daylight faded, they could hear the trading post come to life through the thin walls that separated them from the rest of the building. There were raised voices, some in boisterous laughter, some in angry shouts, and some in pure drunken revelry. They could hear the scrape of benches being moved across the floor, the pounding of heavy booted feet, drinking cups being thrown, songs being sung, and tales being told.
Elowyn understood why Tervaise and Reyda had asked them to remain in their rooms. The same sort of rough behavior was common enough in Tyroc’s taverns, but the Sovereign’s guards were also close by and able to handle anyone that got too far out of hand. Out here, there was no law save what you could enforce with your own strength, or the strength of any nearby stranger willing to stick his neck out in your defense. In the midst of all the clamor, what actually got their attention the most were the delicious smells of food wafting under their door. It had been days since a warm meal had filled their bellies. After a long time, they finally heard a firm rap on the door. Tervaise and Reyda had returned bearing trays loaded with all sorts of foods.
“Some of this you must eat now, but that which will keep you should place in your travel sacks for tomorrow, and the day after,” Reyda advised. The tray of food set down before them would have been a king’s feast compared even to the best meal they would have gotten at home. There were two very large bowls of pottage in addition to a hefty leg of meat, some bread, cheese, onions, various fruits and greens, and salt meat. After three days in the open, with all the uncertainty, fears, and the meager meals they’d faced, this bounty seemed like one sent by Aviad himself.
“Oh, thank you, thank you …” Morganne looked up at Reyda with tears threatening to spill past the rims of her eyes. She fumbled in her pouch, blinded by her tears, trying to pull out enough money to pay them. Tervaise wouldn’t take it, and neither would Reyda. “You’d best keep that a little more tightly in your fist—you will need
it.”
“Oh, and I nearly forgot. Here are some of the other items you asked for,” Tervaise said as he handed Morganne a rough wool blanket, then unfastened a small hatchet from his belt and handed it to Elowyn. “It isn’t very well made, and the blade is quite dull, but it has some use left in it for simple tasks.”
“Please, at least let me pay you for the hatchet,” Morganne pleaded.
“No payment is necessary. It was given freely to me by one who had no more need of it.”
“There now, it is time for us to leave so they may eat and rest before the sun rises,” Reyda said to Tervaise. “My aching bones are ready to retire as well.” To Morganne and Elowyn she said, “We’ve got the room next to this one, so if you need anything, we will be close at hand.” Reyda and Tervaise then left, pulling the door firmly shut behind them.
Morganne and Elowyn ate as though it was their last meal, until their stomachs ached, and their eyes grew heavy. As Elowyn lay there full and content by the warmth of the fire, she realized that she could hear the hushed tones of Tervaise and Reyda through the thin inner wall. In spite of the sounds of the tavern breaking through, she managed to make out part of their conversation. Reyda spoke first.
“Now that we may have a small amount of privacy, do you think we are doing right by allowing those children to go forth alone? I worry that they plunge headlong into perils their innocence has not allowed them to fathom. I noticed that you declined to tell them that the hatchet given to you ‘freely’ was in truth spoils off a troll you met in battle and defeated not so very far from here.”
“And I noticed also, dear mother, that you kept to yourself the fact that it was the very same troll which frightened your mare.” There was silence for a few moments before Tervaise spoke again.
“I understand your concern, and I have mulled it over in my mind all through the evening, but I truly see no other choice. We have no claim to them, and I would not betray them blindly. I know not who or what they are fleeing, but their intent seems sincere and purposeful, even dire. They have obviously been schooled and mannered, and they speak with intelligence. This is clearly no rash whim they follow. Whatever circumstance has brought them here, I assure you that they will not be swayed by any amount of prying or advice from two strangers. We can only help them as much as they will allow. We must honor their desire for discretion. Indeed, the fact that they guard themselves so fiercely gives me hope.”
“I know you speak the truth, but this whole business leaves a sick feeling in my stomach. I will wonder for the rest of my days what became of them.”
“As will I, mother. If I knew where they were going, I could direct them to others who would help them. The innkeeper at Greywalle owes me more gold than he can ever repay. Surely he would house and feed them on my word. I know a number of merchants who would be more than happy to ferry them from town to town in the backs of their carts along with their goods. At least they wouldn’t have to go by foot, and they would have trustworthy companionship. Certainly our kin would take them in and do anything for them. Alas, if they flee in secret, their destination is the one piece of information they will guard most fiercely, and understandably so. I think we have done just about all that we can for them. And now Mother, you must forget your troubles for the night and rest your injuries. You won’t admit it, but these trips are becoming too much for you.”
“Rubbish! One nasty fall slows me down, and you’re ready to start digging my grave.”
Tervaise chuckled fondly. “I’ve got my shovel in hand, but it’s not for your grave. When this trip is over, I have a surprise for you involving a bit of land I recently acquired. I wager that once the builders are finished, you’ll no longer want to go on these long and dreary excursions with me.”
“Oh, Tervaise! Is it the plot we were looking at? The one overlooking the sea?”
“The very one …”
From that point on, Elowyn could no longer make out the conversation. A fight broke out in the trading post, and all she could hear were drunken shouts, the clang of metal, and the crash of furniture being overturned. By the time the fight was over, there was nothing more to be heard from the other room.
Emergence at Deep Lake
Morning came all too soon, and the girls still hadn’t discussed which route to take. They had a quiet, sleepy breakfast and packed the remaining food in their bags.
“Which way?” Elowyn finally asked, hoping Morganne had already decided.
“Do you think you could get us there through the wood?” Morganne asked.
“I don’t know. I would feel better about trying if I had been that way before.” Elowyn was more anxious about choosing that route since she had heard the word “troll” surface in Tervaise and Reyda’s conversation. She had heard tales of such creatures, but had never encountered any in Tyroc’s tame outskirts. Alone, she might be able to sense and evade a troll, or blend in and hide from it. Morganne and Adelin were not equipped to do this. She could only hope that if they met a troll on the road, other travelers might offer some protection. Of course, after listening to the commotion from the previous night, she wondered if men were not equally dangerous. Still, a decision needed to be made, and Elowyn was more and more inclined to take the road, or at least stick close to it.
“You will need boots before long,” Elowyn pointed out. “And a map would be helpful.”
“I suppose we had best follow the road at least until we get to the next village.”
When the girls emerged from their room, they found Tervaise and Reyda waiting to see them off.
“Griselda has been paid in full for your room, and don’t let her tell you otherwise. I have one last thing to give you which may be of use.” Tervaise handed them a piece of parchment with two wax seals pressed onto it. “One is my personal seal, which many merchants along this and the northern road will recognize from my business dealings with them. The other is the seal of the Kinship, which is also known and well-regarded by many. Perhaps if you say that you were sent by me, and that you are friends of the Kinship, you will be able to get some assistance along your way.”
“You have both been so kind to us, and have asked for nothing in return,” Morganne said gratefully. “Someday I hope to find a way to repay you for your generosity.”
“The best way to do that, my dear,” Reyda stated, “is to do the same for others when you are able.” She kissed each of them on the cheek and held them together in a long, motherly embrace. “Be well, and stay safe …”
“Come, Mother,” Tervaise said, gently pulling her away. “We must all be going—we want to get as far as we can before nightfall. Farewell!”
Tervaise and Reyda mounted their horses, and they reluctantly parted ways with the girls. The heavy rain of the previous day had been replaced by a fine, cold, prickly one that stung their faces. For the girls, it meant a day’s march in soaked, muddy shoes and skirts, with heads bent low, and cloaks shimmering with tiny beads of rain. They spoke little. Even Adelin was quiet and still in Morganne’s arms, peeking out from under her protective wrappings. It was a day that would have been happily spent indoors by a warm hearth fire. They encountered nothing remarkable that day. All Elowyn remembered seeing afterward were endless stretches of muddy road, marred by prints from horse’s shoes and men’s boots, wagon wheel ruts, stones, fallen twigs, puddles reflecting the grey sky overhead, and running rivulets of water. Other travelers who passed them seemed just as anxious as they were to move along and get out of the wet. When by early evening they had seen no sign of a town nearby, Elowyn found a sheltered place for them to camp away from the road.
By morning, the even blanket of gray that had covered the whole expanse of the sky had broken up into alternating patches of blue, and large scrubby clouds that looked like they had been drawn with charcoal. The sun was a comforting sight that lifted their spirits considerably as they trudged along the mucky road. As the day wore on, the girls began to see smaller foot-worn paths veering off from the mai
n road every so often, and traffic on the road increased. Late in the afternoon, the girls reached a place where the wilderness on their right side suddenly gave way to open sky and a huge lake. Much to their relief, they could see a town resting on the far side of the shoreline. The road curved along the water’s edge, bringing them to the town’s gates just before dusk.
The town was primitive looking, surrounded by a wooden wall made of young felled trees that had been stripped of their branches and lashed together. The top end of each tree had been shaved down to form a sharp spike. A pair of scruffy guards with studded leather armor and long handled spears were the only watchmen looking down at them from the top of the wall as they approached. Certainly whatever town this was, it bore little resemblance to Tyroc. A large wooden door swung open for them as one of the guards called out with the same strange accent as Griselda’s.
“Ay, yer peeps must be favored o’ Aviad. Another few bits and yer would’ve been shut out for the night. We’ve had trouble o’ late with trolls.”
As the gate closed firmly behind them and they looked around, the girls could see that the place was really little more than a fort. The lake formed the western and southern borders, and the rest was encased by the same wooden walls that made up the gate. There was only one main road, made of packed earth. It stretched in a straight line from the gate to the boat docks on the lake. Branching out from the main road were smaller beaten footpaths that connected it to the larger buildings, and to shops and homes. Most homes had small signboards hanging from their doors with painted symbols to show what services the resident who lived there could offer. There did not seem to be an inn, or even a tavern. Morganne stopped in the street and looked around with a somewhat bewildered expression, unsure of where to go for the night.
Nearby there was a small home with a shoemaker’s sign. An elderly man with fluffy white hair and knobby fingers was sweeping dirt off of his doorstep.
Journey to Aviad Page 21