“Well now, ya done returned! I mean, yessir, we heerd ya was maybe on the way ta town. Pass on, but if ya don’t mind ah’d ‘preciate it if ya sorta kept a good eye on that there wolf. Might set folks in the city on a real tear.”
A belly laugh tried to form, but Jeff stopped it. He didn’t think he could stand one more. “He might at that. I’ll speak with him about it.”
Tuned in to Jeff, Balko did a little jig to keep from howling. This had been a day unlike any in his young memory.
Upon entering Rugen, Jeff’s thoughts immediately centered on Zimma. He didn’t know where she might be staying, but decided to stop at Ethbar’s place first. Someone would know. It was hard to believe she was only a couple of miles away. It had been so long. That fact was emphasized when Jeff took note of the changes that had occurred in his absence. They were startling.
Although it was getting dark, streets he remembered as being merely busy in full daylight were still thronged with noisy people. Makeshift standards had been erected along the streets to support crude oil lanterns that shed little light but a lot of smoke. Businesses they passed were still open and crowded with shoppers. Loaded carts jousted for room to pass where there was none. Jeff could hardly believe that so much had changed in nine months.
Farther into Rugen, a company of soldiers marched by on their way to the barracks or duties somewhere in the city. Instead of the disorderly mob Jeff remembered, they seemed well disciplined. Rengeld had been busy.
Something was also different about the streets themselves. They passed several intersections before he figured out what it was. The streets were free of garbage. Jeff rumbled laughter in spite of the pain.
“Carl, old friend, how did even you manage to get this mess cleaned up?”
The unmistakable evidence of his friend’s activities fueled Jeff’s excitement, and he urged Cynic to a careful trot. City life was so strange to Balko that he stayed close without being told to. However, he did mark a number of interesting activities for later investigation. First on his list were the food stalls they passed.
Entering the courtyard that served Ethbar’s home, Jeff felt so charged with energy that he felt like leaping off Cynic and running into the house. Instead, his eyes were drawn to a lanky figure strolling along in the shadows. Head bent as if to examine the cobblestones, his hands were clasped behind his back.
“Damn, it’s good to be back,” Jeff exclaimed, “and this is too good an opportunity to miss.”
Dismounting quietly, he sneaked up behind Carl as he was about to enter the residence. Pulling his hat low, Jeff tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, sir, could you tell me the way to Tacoma?”
Balko had tagged along for the fun, and was all eyes and ears as Carl turned. At the same instant, Carl saw the shadowy figure of a bearded, travel-worn stranger and a great wolf.
Letting out a startled “Yargh!” he leaped backward and nearly fell. Regaining his footing, Carl’s next comment was somewhere between a snarl and a laugh.
“By all that’s holy, Jeff, don’t do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Laughing delightedly, he grabbed Jeff in a fierce hug. “Damn it’s good to see you again! Shit, I can hardly believe it! Thank God!”
“I can’t tell you how good it is to be back, Carl. Nine months! So much has changed!”
“You got that right, boyo.”
Cynic remembered all the teasing he had suffered from Carl on their way north from Astholf and expected nothing less on this occasion. Not wanting to disappoint him, Carl flung a sly hello that immediately set the horse’s teeth on edge.
“Now, how about introducing me, Jeffrey? I don’t recall meeting this youngster.”
“Love to. Balko and I have been through a lot together.”
Once introductions were complete they moved to the stable. Cynic grumbled about impudent two-legs but was not slow to sweep up a mouthful of grain when Carl poured a generous portion into his trough.
At the door to Ethbar’s home, Carl tried to envision the counselor’s reaction when a wolf greeted him in his parlor. Carl glanced at Jeff. No, he thought, make that two wolves. He was still trying to come to terms with the changes that had occurred since parting in the fall.
Jeff’s beard was dark red and grown to mid-chest level, his hair of similar length and gathered with a leather thong into a ponytail. Although Carl had never seen Jeff with a beard, that wasn’t the change he was trying to pin down—there was something else that seemed hard and wild.
They were about to enter the parlor when Carl mentally kicked himself and stopped. “Wait up a minute.” There was something Jeff needed to know at once. “There’s no easy way of saying this. Zimma isn’t here, Jeff. She and Belstan left over a month ago on a trip to the west coast.”
The smile of anticipation on Jeff’s face disappeared in an instant. His expression revealed a flash of raw anger then became distant and cold. For an instant Carl saw it again, saw that something in his eyes.... Whoa, Carl thought, never seen that before. Some really heavy shit must have come down this winter.
“She was really getting excited about your return,” Carl ventured, “but Belstan was in a tight spot and she couldn’t say no. There simply was no one else with her experience free to go. Rengeld sent a mounted troop along for protection.”
“People come, people go.” When Jeff looked at Carl, his features had softened. “Scratch that. I really miss Zimma terribly. It’s been a tough winter.”
“I can see that.” Carl gripped Jeff’s shoulder. “It’s more than good to have you back.”
They entered the parlor at the same moment as Ethbar. At the sight of Balko, he stopped abruptly. Although an experienced statesman who by necessity rarely revealed emotion, Ethbar’s expression on this occasion was openly shocked.
“While I have greeted many strange and wondrous guests in my home, this exceeds everything that has gone before! How wonderful!”
Insatiable curiosity urged Ethbar toward Balko. Caution stopped him several yards short. He had seen big dogs before, but they seemed no more than puppies in comparison. Jeff noted Ethbar’s uncertainty, understood it completely, and spoke with Balko.
“This one is a wise elder of the two-legs. He does not have mindspeak but is a wolf-brother in his heart. May he touch you in place of speech?”
“This one senses the wisdom you speak of, and feels great respect. He may.”
“Ethbar, this young male whom I have named Balko is a part of my heart and gives you greetings. My brother will accept your touch on his shoulder as acceptance into your home.”
Confronted with a great wolf and a young man grown wild during his winter’s absence, Ethbar gamely drew near. Gingerly, he placed a hand on Balko’s back. Somehow not feeling silly at all, he bowed.
“My house is yours.”
Stomachs were empty and suitable fare was found for all. Later they took seats by the fire, Balko stretching his six feet of length on the carpet next to Jeff. A few polite questions from Carl and Ethbar distracted Jeff from thoughts about Zimma. Rising, he walked around the parlor for a period tying to put some order to the winter’s events.
“I don’t really know what to say, or perhaps how to say it. A Telling is one thing, fashioned as it is for northern warriors, fashioned of the stuff that makes up their lives and dreams. Yet there are things I experienced that they take for granted but will never leave my memory, and other things I have shared with Balko and his mother that they will never know.”
Sitting down, Jeff rested his chin on a hand. “The land still holds my soul fast. How do I speak of a silence so vast that one is at first crushed then consumed by a need to understand what it offers? Of a sweep of forest that goes on and on until it fades into mists that have no beginning and perhaps no end? Of the eagle’s cry that calls one ever higher to gain comprehension of the whole? And yet I could not comprehend though the risk of falling to my death seemed a small price to pay for such knowledge.
&nb
sp; “And the mountains! Their beauty and power were such that my eyes could not long bear their presence. Yet it is the silence that I remember. At first it was a thing to be feared, now I deeply regret its absence. Of a morning, the land was so still I could feel the earth awaken and greet the sun. Be assured that I do not speak figuratively—it did awaken.”
Jeff had invited Carl into his mind. He found a seat high on a rock pinnacle that looked over a valley clothed in green and white that was so deep and wide that the trees seemed no more than a lush carpet. The air was so clear that Carl felt confident that, if he strained his eyes, he might see forever. Following an eagle as it spiraled into the morning sky, he caught his breath when the sun’s first rays set it ablaze with light.
“Well,” Jeff sighed, “Perhaps all that can be done is to begin and see what comes of it.”
One by one, Jeff picked up the threads of his journey and was soon lost in their weaving. The story was long, and his voice drifted in quiet reflection. When he became silent for the last time, the fire had died down to embers.
They sat without speaking for some time. Carl had deliberately lost himself in the hanging valley Heideth had described, and hoped to remain there. Jeff found him picking wildflowers.
“I haven’t been here either, buddy. We’ll make it one of these days.”
Slumped down in his chair, Carl jumped to his feet and hurried to put wood on the fire. He made no attempt to hide the emotion on his face. Ethbar cleared his throat so he could speak.
“The hour is late. Let us go to our rest and meet again on the morrow so that we, in our turn, may relate what has occurred in your absence.”
A good night’s rest and all were once again assembled. Jeff was still not adjusted to being back in civilization and felt closed in, although a hot bath made up for a lot. Balko, on the other hand, was thriving on the novelty of everything around him. He prowled the house from one end to the other in a constant state of bemusement. Ethbar had warned the servants, but Balko followed his nose into the kitchen and caught the staff by surprise.
Jeff was chatting with Ethbar when he heard the clang of pots hitting the floor, followed by terrified shouts and shrieks. He flew out of his chair and ran to collect Balko. It was some time before the cooks were tracked down, the mess cleaned up, and what was left of breakfast set on the table. Ethbar was still chuckling to himself when a disgruntled cook brought coffee. It had been a wonderful morning.
“I am loath to break the spell of high spirits introduced by young Balko, but fear that I must. Rengeld is in the field recruiting soldiers and scouting potential points of resistance to the Salchek. Agents returned from the south report that Khorgan did capitulate as expected, was then sacked and its ruling council executed. Not surprisingly, Astholf fell two months after Khorgan.”
“It’s a small city. Without Khorgan they didn’t have a chance.”
“No, and this fact was not lost on Astholf citizens. What will surprise you, I believe, is not that Belstan and Rogelf arrived at our gates, but that a large number of Astholf’s merchants and craftsmen accompanied them. Never has Rugen greeted such a caravan, and I can tell you there was much rejoicing in the streets.”
Envisioning the scene, Jeff smiled. “Knowing Belstan and Rogelf, I imagine they put on something of a show.”
“Yes, indeed. The city was in an uproar for several days. Unfortunately, the gathering of nobility that Imogo arranged was another matter. How they bellowed against the additional crop tithes! Rebellion seethed in their midst! Unbeknownst to those ingrates, however, Rengeld had succeeded in capturing a Salchek scouting party.
“At the height of the most flowery and treasonous speech, one that denied even the existence of the Salchek, Imogo paraded the chained prisoners for all to see. Oh how those ‘nobles’ scrambled and clawed to reverse themselves!” Ethbar paused to shake his head and chuckle at the memory. “In summary, we now have their complete cooperation. What could be tithed from last fall’s harvest, was, and sits in newly refurbished granaries. Crops were seeded at the earliest possible moment this spring. If we are blessed with favorable weather, the greatest part may be harvested in time to escape the invader’s sickle. That we shall see.”
“What of the traitors?”
“Their designs and hopes were blown away like smoke when the captured Salchek were displayed, Jeffrey. Although prisoners, the Salchek were a proud and cocksure lot. They showed such disrespect for Imogo that it was not difficult for the nobles to imagine their own position should the Salchek succeed. I believe it safe to say that the disaffected faction surrounding Imogo’s cousins was forced to reconsider treason as an alternative to creating an estate by hard work.”
“But his cousins still represent a threat.”
“I am afraid so,” Ethbar sighed. “While Imogo grows suspicious, they are family. All that can be said at this moment is that we will continue to closely observe what they do and with whom they speak. Perhaps they will choose to openly oppose Imogo, then we will act.”
Much more was discussed, but Jeff’s primary interest for the rest of the morning was in getting caught up on what had happened in Rugen after the caravan’s arrival.
He was relieved to learn that Belstan and Rogelf had succeeded in gaining the assurances they required from Imogo. Rogelf had departed east with the first thaw to set up trading posts while Belstan and Zimma undertook the trip to Borstel on the west coast.
“Zimma was in good health and spirits when they left? The winter was hard.”
“Her health was fine, Jeff,” Carl said. “Never even caught a cold the entire winter. And her spirits? It was hard on Zimma to leave knowing you would be back soon, but she handled it okay as far as I could see. I think Belstan was really upset that he had to recruit her. As I said earlier, there was no one else to fill the bill.”
“Your Zimma is a remarkable young woman, Jeffrey,” Ethbar commented. “Be assured that ever were you in her heart and thoughts. The young dandies that attempted to abate her devotion to you were quickly sent packing, I can assure you. A more fiery spirit I do not recall.”
Thinking back on their first meeting, Jeff could only smile agreement. At the same time, an image of Magda hovered close in his mind. Unbidden, he remembered their frequent lovemaking in the sauna and forest, or quietly in the lodge while others slept. They were wonderful memories, but also quite uncomfortable ones in light of what Ethbar had related about Zimma.
Carl suggested he show Jeff what he had been up to rather than describe it. Thankful for the opportunity to break free of the house and the guilt he was feeling, Jeff promptly agreed. Once on horseback, Carl was quick to appreciate the advantages of having a 200-pound wolf tagging along. As they trotted along city streets, a wedge of space seemed to miraculously open in front of Balko.
“How did you do it?” Jeff gestured around the reasonably clean street. “Where’s all the garbage?”
“Becoming compost, my friend,” Carl responded. He rolled his eyes for effect. “What a mess, pun intended. I finally got Imogo to shake lose some change for a test collection area over in the craft section. Folks really liked having clean streets and weren’t shy about saying so, but with all the money flowing out of city coffers in the war effort Imogo just wouldn’t go for it citywide. How do you convince someone in a feudal society that clean streets mean fewer deaths and a more productive city? It doesn’t make any sense to them. So I threw in the towel and quit trying, at which point the craft people got organized and raised hell. By the time it was over, everyone wanted their section clean, too.”
“So you got the job done. That’s good, isn’t it? From your expression I would say you aren’t all that happy about it.”
“I, my friend, am solely responsible for starting a bureaucracy.”
Noting Jeff’s look of disbelief, Carl nodded his head. “Yep, a bureaucracy. I will go down in infamy as introducing these poor unsuspecting folks to a garbage collection fee.”
“Son of a
gun. I’m riding with the Commissioner of Sanitation? Shouldn’t you be wearing a uniform or something fancy like that?”
Carl grinned and threw Jeff the finger. “Asshole. Actually, it isn’t all that bad. I contract out the collection, which doesn’t take a lot of paper work. If I wanted Imogo’s approval, it had to be self-supporting. The sewage problem, though, is impossible at this stage since the whole city would have to be torn up.”
Arriving at the craft section, Carl dismounted in front of the same alchemist’s shop Jeff remembered from his visit in the fall. As they walked in, Carl hollered toward the back of the store, “Hey, Petto, we got any safe samples around?”
A short, round man popped out of the back room. Grinning ear to ear, he gingerly handed Carl a metal canister. Turning it over in his hands, he looked at the canister with a mixture of pride and sadness.
“I’m also in the business of death, and could really use some feedback on this one.”
Raising an inquisitive eyebrow as encouragement, Jeff said nothing.
“I started poking around in here right after you left. From hanging around you, reading sci-fi and my background in chemistry, I picked up a good idea of what these folks did for a living. Remember? Lead to Gold?
“One of the solvents Earth’s alchemists came up with was called aqua regia, or royal water: three parts hydrochloric acid, one part nitric acid. Sure enough, great minds think alike and there it was sitting in a corner. Only took a few tests to confirm it. All I had to do then was find out where Petto here got the nitric acid fraction from, pound out some plant fiber to get the cellulose, put the two together, and bingo.”
“Bingo? What are you talking about?”
“Damn, Jeff, didn’t you learn anything in high school chemistry?”
Giving Carl a sly wink, Jeff said, “Well, there was this great blond I was assigned to work with in the lab section. Now that was chemistry!”
“Shit.” Carl knew he was being had but was still vexed. “Forget the tits and ass, bozo. Put nitric acid and cellulose together in the right proportions and you get gun cotton. Want me to spell it out?” He held the canister out to Jeff. “Got a match?”
Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) Page 39