by T K Foster
The conversation that took place thereafter went something like this:
“A sage....”
“An old sage....”
“What is a sage?”
“Maybe he could answer my questions.”
“Maybe he could answer both our questions, I’ve been here longer.”
“What is a sage?”
“What.... you’re making it a competition between the two of us now?”
“What is a sage?”
“Well I have. So why haven’t I heard about this sage before?”
“What is a sage?”
“He’s very secretive. Even I’ve only known about the old sage for a short time.”
“What is a sage? What is a sage? What is a sage?”
More importantly though, day had turned to night and they could now leave the shed under a cloak of darkness.
“Oh, when did it get dark?” Billy asked.
Barret thought for a moment, “About twenty four hands ago,” he answered.
“Huh?”
Time measurement on Bradley was fundamentally simple. As a unit the single greatest measurement possible was a day; making up a day was the large quantity of 8640 hands, give or take a few depending on whether it was accurately calculated by a hand or inaccurately subject to the unreliability of a hoof. A hand then was made up of five clicks, or snaps as some would like to call them; where a task may have taken only a short time to achieve it was considered a snap.
Night time on the other hand was not measured by time as nothing of any significance ever seemed to occur during darkness. Also, as questioned by Billy, the transition between day and night and night and day was an approximate minimum of five hands, which often left many individuals wondering, where did the day go?
Within the dark interior of the shed they could barely see each other, registering shadows cast by the dull moon light streaming through cracks in the wall was the best they could do.
Barret found Cetra and whispered into her ear his desire that she grab pig-boy’s hand and not let go. He then directed them all to follow him out the door, through the shadows, up the street, round the corner, and up the hill to the edge of town where they would find a friend he felt might help them.
It all sounded fairly easy. In fact, it was, except for the few unnerving moments when the same three Humps, who by this time had positioned themselves up a side street, huddled around a fire blazing within the confines of a steel box, appeared to prick their ears and suddenly lumber their thick bodies toward the shadows.
Our party of four, led by Barret, was quick to dash through a number of darkened stalls and take silent refuge until the danger had passed them by. Having the Humps behind them they could move forward toward their destination with no threat whatsoever of the three creatures catching up to them.
The strange thing about Humps, besides all the other things that were strange about them, was their odd sense of responsibility. Apart from the fact that they did not particularly like or enjoy being in the company of anyone aside from themselves, except in the instance where they could terrorise, maim, or cause general despair, they felt a strange compulsion to adopt a roll of guardian and peacekeeper within the towns. No one had as yet guessed what they were being guarded from because the only thing they really needed protecting from was the Humps themselves.
So Billy, Cetra and Briar, driven forward by Barret’s intent, continued their hidden journey through the darkened streets of town; round the corner and up the hill, making little noise but for the crunching of dirt beneath their feet. Shadows were cast across the road as they passed by lit windows, and one or two whispers of “Hey you, get out of here” were consequently thrown their way.
It wasn’t a steep hill they were climbing, but Briar still managed to lose his breath. He slipped once, and then a second time, before Barret got fed up and abruptly decided that the quickest method of getting to the top would be to throw pig-boy over his back and carry him the rest of the way.
In the same moment that it took for the two to get comfortable with their piggyback position, Cetra caught the grin on Briar’s face in the dull light. He noticed her watching him and winked.
They continued up the hill. It wasn’t really that much farther, and the thought of simply dragging Briar the rest of the way by the foot and hearing his protests as dirt and stones ground their way up his back certainly had appealed to Barret, but he determined that it would not be his best course of action.
At the top the road flattened out and curved both to the left and to the right. The left road moved on a short distance only before it plummeted into absolute darkness; the right continued on much farther and was made visible by the many illuminated homes casting their light through similarly square shaped windows.
The four of them trudged ahead, not keeping to the shadows any longer because there weren’t enough to keep to anyway, and very soon, without incident, they had come to the end.
They halted outside a house that was no different to any other in the gloom. The only distinguishing feature appeared to be a roughly crafted placard on the door which had been carved with the words Ballders Merchant.
Around them there were only the faint noises of internal activity; the clanging of a pot, the jostle of a chair, the rattle of a window closing, whispers from curious folk peering through cracks in the door, and a dripping sound to their left.
Barret released Briar to the ground and looked at his companions.
“Ballders,” he said softly with an expectant look about him.
“Same to you,” Billy quipped while maintaining a straight face.
They went round to the side door instead because that’s where Barret suddenly decided to lead them. From this new vantage point they now realised that their uphill climb had brought them to a high point on the outskirts of town. Slanting downwards were rooves and shadows, dark and illuminated windows, rising chimneys, roads and courts; and almost in the very centre was the marketplace which was a large area enclosed by a fort like wall with many arched openings. In the gloom of the night it could have been mistaken for the ruins of a castle.
Two windows were on this side of the house and there was a small covered verandah with a door the same width.
Barret pulled five times consecutively on a thin string attached to the wall at the right of the door, an action which produced the faint jingle of a bell from somewhere within the house.
It was only a few moments before the door opened and a tall, hooded man beckoned them in hurriedly. Closing the door first he then lead them through to the rear of the house and into what must have been a general reception room; it was rectangular in shape and rather large but cluttered. At the back corner was another much smaller room jutting beyond the rear wall which appeared to be a very rustic-styled kitchen, with pots and pans, utensils and herbs all hanging from various hooks around the wall. From an unseen corner of that room came a noise of simmering and a dull flickering reflection of low flames on the opposite wall. The smell which hung in the air and teased them was exotic to Billy, though just ordinary stew to the others.
“Are ye hungry?” the hooded man asked in a deep, raspy voice.
“Yes thank you,” Cetra squealed, her answer corresponding with the other three groaning stomachs close by.
Ballders reached out a hairy hand and motioned them toward the thick wooden table at the kitchen end of the room.
The room itself was filled with so many things, bric-a-brac the major contribution; from a small leather thimble on a nearby bench to a large, decorative wooden door frame leaning against the wall. Layered at an angle over the top corner of the frame was just one of a large collection of tapestries, altogether a myriad of colours and patterns throughout the room. A variety of intricately woven rugs were cast over dark stained floor boards, some worn thin from excessive tread-wear, others richly decorated and thick piled as though still new. The furniture was all wooden, but the cushions which lounged over every piece were plump and inviting to a wear
y body.
“Have they seen him yet?” came the raspy voice from above the simmering pot of stew. He ladled the hot food into five bowls, one for him and four for his guests.
“No,” Barret answered gladly, “I managed to get him away in time, but it was a close call.”
“Hmm....” Ballders put large spoons in every bowl and served his guests one at a time. He placed his own on the table last and went into the kitchen once more.
“Are these Humps after me?” Billy piped up suddenly.
“Yes.... and no, Billy,” Barret said, looking in Ballders’ direction for some support.
Ballders came back to the table with two small wooden boxes containing pepper and salt and offered them to everyone.
“Yes or no?” Billy corrected, wanting either as an answer not both. By now he was leaning forward across the table and staring expectantly at everybody.
The tall man called Ballders took the end seat and cast his hood back to reveal his face. When he spoke it was with confidence and authority.
“When ye came through me door I knew ye were like Barret. Barret is not from here and neither are ye.” He held up a hand to steady Billy who was about to speak, then continued. “Humps don’t like anything out of place. They have never seen ye so they will want to terrorise ye to make sure ye not a threat.”
“I don’t plan on being here long enough to be terrorised by them.”
Ballders raised bushy eyebrows and flashed dazzling white teeth through a salesman smile. Apart from this odd fellow having thick set, broad shoulders, an almost flat face with barely a nose and no nostrils, big floppy earlobes, long straight hair pulled back into a ponytail, and hairy knuckles, he also had the most vivid green eyes Billy had ever seen. They were friendly eyes, and together mixed with that toothy grin went hand in hand with the merchant business.
“This stew is very nice,” Cetra announced in the midst of it all.
“Yeah,” Briar agreed, “heaps better than the swill my mum normally gives me.
There was a flash of smiles around the table.
“It does smell really good,” Billy said calmly. He hadn’t yet tasted the stew but he was certainly looking forward to it.
“Indeed, everything I cook smells wonderful.”
Billy glanced up from his bowl at the man with no nostrils. His thoughts were quizzical. “How does he smell?” he whispered the question to Barret on his right.
Barret leaned in to Billy and whispered back, “Terrible.”
There were soft chuckles between the two and a quick “Boom boom” from the other end of the table where Ballders had overheard the joke.
“Ye know, me young fellows, big ears can hear whispers, big ears can hear a pin drop, and big floppy earlobes can be used as weapons.” He stared intensely at Billy for a moment, pausing in the stillness, and then suddenly roared with laughter.
It was a laughter which gave relief to all round the table, and once the effect had died down they continued to eat.
“Don’t worry, Billy,” Ballders spoke up, “just keep running away from them. Eventually they’ll get used to yer smell and not bother with ye anymore.”
“So, did you have any trouble with them?” Billy directed the question at Barret.
Before Barret was given any opportunity to answer though, Ballders had already started to chortle in that raspy chortle he chortles so well; thus closing the window on Barret and opening his own to respond to the question on his good friend’s behalf.
“The first time Barret bumped into a Hump or four was in our very own market square down the hill there.” He pointed a hairy finger in one direction and then another, then he shrugged. “They cornered him, stripped him down to his underwear, and pointed and laughed at him, then they went away seemingly satisfied. They’ve not bothered ye since, have they fella.”
Barret shone red. Given half a chance he was pretty certain he could have come up with a better and far more favourable adaptation of the story.
“And that’s the very same colour he went that day too,” Ballders boomed and pointed at Barret’s face. “Although I can’t know why, it’s not as if anyone took any notice of ye.”
They all laughed.... and they all continued to eat.
After some chit chat about how the four of them had come to be in his house so late that night, Ballders finally looked upon the little pig-boy to his left and grimaced.
“So,” he said, “ye have so far failed to tell me where young riff raff here fits into the picture.”
The other three looked at each other across the table before Billy answered.
“He says he knows about an old sage he can take us to.”
All eyes went to Ballders who simply held a blank expression upon his face.
“What we were hoping for,” Barret jumped in and said, “my good friend, was a loan of four of your best burros.”
“Four of me best?” Ballders laughed. “Four of me best go to town officials, or business magnates, high standing merchants, or women having babies, a favoured lady perhaps or me own child.” He paused. “Not to any two bit trader for a fugitive, a wee stranger in town, assemble yer own woman and pudgy piglet.... No, ye can have four of me worst and that’s me best.”
“For ye,” he rasped, poking Briar in the arm with a finger almost as long as Briar’s arm itself, “ye can have me very youngest rascal burro called Baby, the little hybrid beast he is.” He poked Briar in the arm again and laughed, “Just like ye. The perfect match ye’ll be. The rest of ye can have his brothers. Don’t care too if I lose them ones.”
“And what makes you think we’ll lose them?” Barret asked.
Ballders’ laugh boomed across the table, “Because anyone who puts trust in wee piggy Briar here,” he slapped Briar on the shoulder and sent him reeling forward in his seat, “is destined for trouble, and ye of all should know that Barret. Ye’ve seen his play in the markets. Nasty little beggar he is.”
By now Billy was fed up. He was fed up with the insults, he was fed up with the oversized spoon he had to push through his lips to get anything to eat, and he was simply fed up with the big crotchety hooligan that sat at the opposing end of the table.
As Ballders continued to laugh and the others remained silent, including Briar who had come across as someone ready to wage a war of words against anyone, Billy’s anger burst. He pushed himself from the table and stood up, a little less menacing maybe than he had hoped for considering his stature hadn’t changed that much in comparison, and defended Briar confidently.
“And out of everyone I have met so far,” he challenged, “Briar is the only one who has given me any chance of getting answers.”
“Answers to what?” Ballders retaliated, “The same things which have plagued young Barret here for all his days? The same things he has spent half his days looking for someone who might give him answers? So why hasn’t this sage been mentioned before? Why hasn’t anyone else told Barret about him? Why is it that pig-boy here is the only one who appears to know anything about him? Huh?”
Ballders’ voice was louder than Billy’s, and convincing in its argument, but Billy had one remaining weapon – hope. So far his only hope was with Briar, and that became the defining point to the rest of the conversation.
“Ye will have yer burros as promised,” Ballders now said gladly, “and ye will ride out before the new day begins. I shall give ye previsions and a meal before ye leave.”
So with that said the dinner conversation came to a close. Ballders tidied his guest’s empty bowls, collected their spoons and removed them to the kitchen. He then left the room to re-enter shortly after with an armful of blankets which he casually tossed over the back of a chair.
“There is ample room in here for ye all to sleep,” he announced. “Pick a piece of furniture, given ye can find them under all the cushions.”
Billy took two blankets and passed one to Cetra who smiled and winked at him. Barret followed suit, taking the other two blankets, and passed
one to Briar, who also smiled and winked. This, of course, had the desired effect as Briar was quickly flogged across the head with a rumpled blanket.
By now Ballders had adjourned to his own quarters, having said his “good night and don’t let the topeys bite”. Lights were dashed and darkness came between them. They each settled down amongst the cushions and welcomed sleep.
CHAPTER TEN