by Vance Huxley
Fellip sipped his ale. “I’d have swapped you straw for reed, especially if it is cut properly. The reed is worth more if it is cut and stacked properly. How much reed is there?” He sipped his ale, waiting while Billi tried to estimate.
“It’s hard to say exactly, because it’s the shape of a drawn bow, with the curved edge being the river.” Billi frowned. “Perhaps the same area as my bit of land? Are you all right?”
Fellip coughed a bit more and put down his ale, then wiped his lips before replying. “Have you any idea of the value of reed?”
“No. Most houses have straw thatch, or all of them I thought up until Bliss mentioned reed to you.” Billi definitely wondered about the value now and Rabbit’s song had a query in it.
Fellip rolled his eyes. “Hunters. If it doesn’t crawl, swim or fly?” He chuckled. “That’s unfair because everyone to their own, after all I have no idea what claws or hides are worth. Only the wealthy have reed roofs because reed is expensive. I take some from beside the river each year, but always have to buy more from the Traders. They always try to cheat me of course.”
“So is the reed worth a finder’s fee?” That would be a handy bonus for Billi, and he could hunt for waterfowl.
“That amount is worth a decent fee depending on what is useable. There would also be the escort fee for guarding the cutting and carting. Similar to when a tree is found?” Fellip picked up his ale. “Is it safe to drink again or is there a second one the size of a farm?”
“No more, and you won’t get ponies there easily.” Billi chuckled. “I find it a good place for wildfowl, and bring some reed for the goats to save buying straw. I go along the riverbank and that’s a bit marshy for laden ponies, but to avoid that we’d have to take ponies right into the Forest. When will you want to go?”
“I’d like to go and look at it as soon as possible, and we shouldn’t need ponies at all. We’ll use boats for carting any reed since it is by the river anyway, though poling will be a bit of a job.” Fellip thought about it for a few moments. “I’ll pay you for an escort there as soon as possible to see the state of the reed bed. Then a finder’s fee for what we take, and a fee for escort during the cutting and hauling some time just after the Harvestfest, if that is agreeable.”
“Finder’s fee? Will that be the same as for trees? One tenth but you pay haulage?” Billi shrugged. “That’s only one fee usually but I’d want the contract for escort if you go back.” He would also be pleased of an escort job every year or three after Harvestfest when hunting became more difficult. With the leaves gone prey became harder to sneak up on, especially with one leg.
“If there’s a reed bed that big I’ll go back every year. Do you know a couple of local youths who will keep very, very quiet about it?” Fellip scowled. “So that nobody decides to cut what’s there early because the reed will still have a value to the Traders, just not as much because the quality won’t be as good.”
Billi smiled. “Perry and Timath, Bliss’ Bros, will be very discreet. They are both hoping for a bit of work from me.” Billi almost laughed since they were both angling for the caretaker job if Bliss landed her Hunter. Not only that but Viktor would probably skin them if they messed up the meat supply for hut guarding.
Viktor still seemed unaware of how well Bliss’ campaign had progressed. He thought the gifts of meat and hide were a brash young Hunter showing off, a youth impressing a maid he wanted to chase. Viktor definitely approved of the chasing part since a Hunter in the family would be very handy. Viktor just didn’t realise that they’d gone past chasing to catching, as far as Billi could judge.
Billi took Fellip out to take a look. The Thatcher rubbed his hands at the extent of the bed, but sounded dismayed by the state of some of the reed. He announced there would be work needed after the first cutting to ensure a much better crop the next year. He would call on Billi sometime after Harvestfest to arrange everything.
* * *
Billi went out to his new discovery, the valley, once every moon during the summer, staying away an eight-day each time. Since Bliss now knew he might be home late on the last night or early the next morning, Billi never found Hektor in shirt sleeves again. Billi found the young Hunter at his hut a couple of times, but still in his jacket, just checking up on Bliss. Billi hoped the pair made their match official before they made a mistake. Not that anyone considered a mistake too serious if they were going to bond anyway, but there were always waspy tongues that would hint at traps. Or maybe cast doubt on the father, that sort of thing would appeal to Edan and he would make the most of it. He hadn’t stopped muck-spreading, and a few in the Village still scowled at Billi or muttered ‘cripple’ behind his back.
While in the valley that Billi privately thought of as his own, he improved the smaller pools by taking out sediment because that kept the water flowing through them and stopped any stagnation. Then he put the sediment on a patch he privately labelled garden, for herbs and maybe a gooseberry bush. “We can bring some blackberry shoots, Rabbit, and gooseberries will go well with the fish. There’ll maybe be geese here in the winter, with the open water, and blackberries will sweeten them up a bit.”
Each time he visited Billi would smoke or dry some fish to take back or occasionally to store there. “I reckon a heavy stone like this, over this hollow in the rocks, will stop most things, Rabbit.” Rabbit inspected the impromptu food safe and tried to nudge the cover aside with his nose. Billi put smoked fish in a greased hide under the large flat rock, handy if they arrived late in the evening.
Billi still toyed with how to make this valley into Farm. “To make a piece of Forest into Farm, it must produce a crop. Do you think fish might be a crop?” Rabbit’s song seemed uncertain but hopeful, or maybe he didn’t understand what Billi meant and just hoped for some fish. Billi knew that taking a regular crop went right up on top of the list of requirements when making a piece of land Farm, not Forest. So Billi took his crop, assuming that taking a regular amount of fish from a pool counted as a crop.
That worried Billi since without the fish, the valley produced no crop, unless the stones for Tinkerers were a crop because Billi always spent some time digging through the gravel. Rabbit sometimes spotted the stones first now that he’d seen enough to get the idea. Billi listened carefully to that song in his head when they sat by the fire in the valley and he explained what he was trying to do, but the song never faltered.
If he aimed the bow at game, a shot Rabbit thought risky, he could feel Rabbit warning him of the risk. If something dangerous came near there would be a different warning note inside Billi’s head. If the pair of them came across prey, something worth hunting, Billi would hear that too. If only Billi could be sure that Rabbit understood what his Hunter intended, then he would know that the Hound agreed with his assessment. Billi certainly couldn’t ask anyone else without disclosing what he’d found, and then other Hunters would come here. Rabbit’s song definitely said he agreed with keeping this private.
There were a couple of strong downpours through the summer and the efficiency of the big tree anchoring the dam became clear. The waterfall from above the cliff never grew much, but a couple of days after the rain, an increased flow of water gushed out of the cleft and into the lake. That increased the flow over the gravel, but the extra rush of water caused the dam no damage whatsoever. The beavers had built up the sides higher, and the increased flow across the timber centre would take a lifetime to wear it away.
Billi found that he wouldn’t be losing any stones due to the downpours. Whatever had been washed downstream from the valley in the past, nothing would be lost now because the beaver pool behind the dam killed the force of the increased flow. Billi actually found a small shiny-type stone that had been brought into the lower pool, one embedded in the mud used by the beavers to apply a patch.
After the first downpour there were huge pug marks at the edge of the strip of forest, and scattered fish scales. A Great-Cat came there to drink sometimes and, from th
e evidence, fish. Billi looked at the marks and wondered if they belonged to a Great Hunter, allegedly the biggest cat of all. That could be a problem if the beast decided it didn’t want neighbours though it had tolerated the visits so far. Billi wondered if the beast took all the tithes that he meticulously threw into the bushes there, though Rabbit showed no alarm so the Great Hunter probably didn’t come while Billi visited.
Billi could see no indication that the beast hunted any of the game that still helped to keep the plant growth subdued, nor did it fish anywhere else except the pool near the trees. The beast certainly settled one subject; the goats and chickens wouldn’t last one day if Billi left them here unguarded. Billi smiled quietly when Rabbit lifted his leg and accurately marked the pug mark.
Billi built up a good collection of small stones during the summer, despite selling a few to the Tinkerer and Trader caravans that came alternate moons. Most of the stones now came from the gravel bar in the valley and those were the better quality type, the shinier ones the Tinkerers wanted. Despite the amount of searching Billi carried out in the gravel, it would be a long time before he would need to move on to the mud of the dam or even the lower pool.
When Billi dug a hole straight down in the gravel bar he went to the length of his arm. Even then his fingers could feel gravel at the bottom though he couldn’t see for the icy, muddy water. After one big downpour his pebbles were gone from the rock pool, which meant that the source probably lay deep in the hill somewhere beyond reach. Billi didn’t mind considering the size of the gravel bar, since he only had one life to live and could probably spend it searching there.
* * *
Through the summer Billi let himself be beguiled out of some small stones by the maids of the Tinkerers when they visited. Letting them see his stump came as a real test and reassured Billi since these maids didn’t seem to mind him being crippled. He traded the rest of his stones and goods for gold despite their flashing eyes and breathy promises. The little gold ingots, the result of trading a larger number of stones and pelts, were buried under the scree near the waterfall.
Billi also had new cooking equipment at home purchased, with the extra pelts his increased hunting produced. The extra pots, pie dishes, baking and roasting tins and the kitchen implements were very important, according to Bliss. If they kept the pies and occasional loaf of fresh bread coming they were important to Billi as well.
Buying new cooking gear in the hut led to another change in his valley. That started as an old iron pot and a big ladle now surplus at home, left permanently so he could make a bit of stew. Then Billi improved the rocks arranged to hold the pot over the fire, making a permanent fire-pit sheltered by a large boulder. After a couple of blustery days, Billi drove in some stakes and plaited a windbreak from willow shoots. In later visits he improved, enlarged and strengthened the cooking area while sitting under the stars, talking to Rabbit.
“Nothing knocked down our windbreak. Shall we try for a roof, Rabbit? Just a little one, just a shelter as a test? Just to see if the Wild thinks this is Forest or possibly Farm?” Rabbit’s song never faltered, and Billi set to with his hatchet and some dead branches to make a sort of plaited wall clear of the fire-pit rock. He laid a few branches between top of the wall or stout fence and the rock. “Since Fellip says they’re better than straw, we’ll use reeds, Rabbit. Though we haven’t got any straw anyway.” Billi used the reeds left along the lake banks from last year, and attempted thatch.
Some reeds were waterlogged or part-rotted and the result wasn’t truly water-tight. “This is definitely a crop, Rabbit. If we watch the Thatcher, and improve the reeds, we can do better next year.” Billi felt happier with that idea because it gave him a true growing crop. He’d half expected the thatch to be torn down and trampled on his next visit but the structure stayed intact. Billi began to wonder just how far he could take this idea. After all, apart from not being on the edge of the existing Farm, this valley matched the rules for claiming new land.
More of Billi’s old cooking gear made the trip out to the valley. He made a rough, low enclosure of rocks, then heaved and slid a larger flat one across the space created. A few more rocks, under the edges, and that became a low, very solid stone box that also doubled as a table. Billi put his cooking gear and a bit of food wrapped in hide under there when he left. If he finished constructing a waterproofed wooden lining, he would have a food safe. Billi plaited a willow windbreak across each end of the lean-to. The shelter, “still a shelter, Rabbit, not a hut yet,” also gained a small but robust iron mesh that went across the fire to cook on.
Next Billi put together a rough bed to lie on instead of a layer of grass and thin branches. “This place is almost a hut, Rabbit. After all it has a bed if I stuff this hollow in the middle with heather and dry grass, and bring a thick fur? Maybe we can still visit over the winter? We could take another crop, of the small hunters in their winter fur. The shallow water and fish will bring them.” The winter pelts on the small fishers and hunters brought the best prices and if he stayed a week Billi could run a trap line and take a good few.
One visit Billi set to and spent two days fishing and smoking the catch. He carried nearly a full pack of freshly smoked fish home, because the local hunting hadn’t recovered properly after such a bad winter so food wasn’t plentiful. Bliss told him to trade the lot immediately because the local fish run would be in three moons, so right now fresh smoked fish would bring a good price. Sure enough Billi was astounded by how keen the villagers were to trade for the fish. That went into his mental picture of how his valley could provide a living.
The dead trees, bushes and deadfalls provided plenty of firewood and Billi built up a woodpile. Another visit he looked at the size of some of the branches in the woodpile, and ambition stirred. “D’you reckon we can shift a tree, Rabbit? A small one? Maybe if we pick one that will float part of the way? It will dry out once we get it out of the water.” The question in the song meant Rabbit knew this would be new, and these days Rabbit liked new. Billi tied his rope to a fallen sapling and tugged, and felt the excitement as Rabbit caught on.
The Hound leapt forward gleefully to seize the rope and heave. A pulling game! Moving even a small tree turned out to be hard work because that still added up to a lot of timber, and without Rabbit and the water to help the task would have been impossible. Despite his three legs Rabbit seized the rope and pulled for all he was worth, and seemed to have a tremendous time. Billi loved the sheer excitement in the song as they worked, and it encouraged him to keep trying. Rabbit’s size made the job possible in the end. Billi had a slim, very intelligent, very excited pony helping him.
The pair laid for a little while, exhausted, once the timber came clear of the water near the shelter. Billi talked about how they could spend more time here with a warmer, stronger shelter and Rabbit’s song soared. After a rest Billi went to find another suitable tree, and this time Rabbit bounded around as he tied the rope, eager to go for it. By the time they set out for home, three small trees and several large boughs littered the water’s edge, drying out.
The next visit Rabbit headed straight for the timber, ready for more, but this time Billi needed big rocks for the foundation. There were some embedded nearby so Billi started tossing the boulders out of the gravel. Rabbit couldn’t move the big smooth rocks but proved to be an enthusiastic digger, undermining the edges so Billi could get enough purchase to roll them. The Hound also pounced on any shiny type stones they uncovered, and Billi’s collection grew rapidly.
Eventually, as the leaves began to take on hints of gold and crimson, they had enough of both rocks and timber. Billi had to do most of the lifting, but Rabbit provided enthusiastic encouragement both by barking, and in the sheer excitement in his song as the walls started to rise. Billi hacked away with his hatchet, and heaved and rolled boulders, and then Rabbit leapt in to add his brawn to heave on the ropes, and the walls crept higher. Eventually the construction completely surrounded the old shelter, much
larger, with one narrow gap for a doorway.
Anyone in the Village who saw the proposed hut would tear out their hair in despair at the construction. Billi built with an odd mixture of whole rocks and tree trunks or thick boughs, then used a rock to hammer home smaller rocks or chunks of timber to brace or fill until the structure stood firm. He gathered mud and grass and used that to plaster the chinks until he thought the result might be windproof. The villagers would weep at the sheer size of the timbers, a terrible waste considering the scarcity of firewood in the Village but Billi had neither the tools nor the skill to split trees into planks.
Billi relaxed, because this new hut, “definitely a hut now, Rabbit,” should resist a bear or even that big cat. Billi kept remembering the size of those big pug marks. Those were why he’d used such a heavy flat rock for his food store lid, now providing a table inside his hut. Inside because Billi and Rabbit hauled branches up to lay across as roof timbers, with thinner ones laid the other way to keep out animals and birds. Rabbit could fetch the latter without a rope, and raced up and down the valley collecting them as fast as Billi could put them in place. Finally, the pair collected twigs, leaves, reeds and grass to seal the covering, more or less, with several hides and more thick branches to hold the lot down. The result leaked, but not too badly and Billi moved his bed to a dry spot.
One of the dead tree trunks had split along its length, due to either lightning or frost. Billi gave the Carpenter two small furry pelts for the loan of three wedges and a hammer, and split the long timbers further into thick rough slabs. Hacked into lengths with his hatchet, and with three cross-pieces fastened using a score of iron spikes from the Blacksmith, the timber made a rough, heavy but solid door. Billi used leather hinges but in truth the sheer weight meant the door wasn’t really hung, it scraped open and shut. Billi felt his own satisfaction echoed in Rabbit’s song the day he could finally heave the door into the opening before leaving their hut really closed up, a proper dwelling, sort of.