by Guy Antibes
Although the language and the discussions of the shepherds were uncouth, neither Sam nor Harrison heard anything of significance. Harrison would help Blane tomorrow.
“Make sure Emmy is with you at all times,” Harrison said, “and go armed. First, I want to walk off dinner out on the flat and look at the sheep. I don’t expect to find anything, but one never knows.”
They retrieved Emmy and headed away from the healer’s house and were soon among the flocks. The sheep moved nearly as one away from the dog.
“The sheep are connected,” Sam said.
“What?”
“A thin line of pollen.”
“I can’t see anything,” Harrison said.
“Here,” Sam removed his spectacles and handed them to the healer. “Maybe the gold coating helps.”
“Havetta be praised,” Harrison said. “You are right.”
He put out his hand and grabbed a few of the lines of pollen and smiled. “It makes me smile.” He rubbed the pollen off. “The lines are being re-established as we stand here and the sheep stay close to one another,” he said.
“Makes you feel better? Like a potion?”
Harrison nodded. “That is the strong link to all the crimes we’ve seen.”
“It would be if all the miners were addicted to it, but they aren’t.”
Harrison gathered a handful, walking through the herd. Sam tried to do the same thing, but the pollen was so fragile that is began to dissipate as soon as he touched it.
“Let’s go before we draw too much attention,” Harrison said, returning the spectacles. “The conditions on the flats are bad for the animals.”
“Maybe the pollen is the reason all the sheep are collected here,” Sam said.
Harrison saw a group of shepherds headed their way. “I think it’s time to head back to Blane’s house,” he said.
~
All three of them wore Sam’s spectacles, looking at the pollen.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Oh, I’ve heard of animals making a bit of camouflage with the stuff, but never this.”
Harrison agreed. “Simple commands, perhaps. Left, right, flee, safe. A network like nerves. But why would anyone want this? When I hold it, I feel okay, but alcohol does that and more.”
Blane held the ball of pollen in his hand. “It is appealing, but would I pay for this?” He shook his head. “If anyone needed to feel good, it is me.”
“What about a combination?” Sam said.
“Combination?” Blane asked.
Sam nodded. “Like podica, mendica, and alms wort. Maybe whoever is doing this wants something that will make someone feel calm like alms wort settles your stomach.”
“We can think about that. All those sheep out on the flats might be there for slaughter,” Harrison said. “I think we’ll risk one more bird.”
Sam put his three pairs of spectacles and the spying glass back in the little case that Link Cackle had made. If nothing else, he had learned that the spectacles were more than just an aid for him, but they also gave a better view of pollen for Harrison and Blane.
He stepped out to the little stable that Blane had in the back of his house. Emmy looked up and smiled, panting.
“Are you up for another day of danger?” Sam asked.
The dog barked as she generally did after a question. This time she licked Sam’s face, as well.
“I am glad we hooked up,” Sam said, petting the dog.
He had to admit he was scared to ask questions tomorrow. If there weren’t so many shepherds in the village, it would be different, but perhaps the intruders might bring out comments that the villagers might otherwise keep to themselves.
~
Sam talked to the owner of the village’s general store. There weren’t any shepherds around, and the lady seemed talkative.
“Where did you ever get that dog?” she asked.
“I bought her from someone in Mountain View. He didn’t have a use for Emmy, and he didn’t treat her very well, so…” Sam shrugged without finishing his thought.
“So you performed a good deed. Good boy,” she said. “I wish someone would buy all of us. There are those who don’t treat us very well.”
“I noticed. I’m staying with Healer Blane. They weren’t kind to his wife.”
“That wasn’t much later from when all this started. It was a tragedy, and the constable,” the woman snorted, “did nothing. Poor Blane. But what else are we to do?”
“Why are all the sheep here, then? Harrison is perplexed more than I am,” Sam said.
“Harrison?”
“The visiting healer.”
She giggled. “Oh, him. He is such a nice man. I just might feel a malady coming on. He listens so well.”
“He does. We think that they are going to send all those sheep to Gruellia,” the woman said.
“Isn’t there a closer place?”
She giggled. “Oh no. everyone thinks that Riverville is the best way to get to Gruellia, and it is for an army, but for sheep, there is a pass that works for them. It is narrow and rocky, but the creatures don’t seem to mind. Truth be told more than a few sheep find their way north every year. The king doesn’t get taxes on those sheep.” She nodded her head.
Well, that was an unexpected nugget of information. Selling the sheep might be a better idea than harvesting the neural pollen, as Harrison had called it that morning. ‘That pollen might be smarter than the combined brains of all the sheep,’ he had said. Sam didn’t know what the truth was, but either could be. The shepherds would have to do something with all the sheep.
He bought some candy and a stick of dried meat for Emmy and left the store. He exited onto the street, right into a group of shepherds.
“What are you doing in Worrier’s Flat, boy?” one of them asked.
“I’m the visiting healer’s helper. He comes here every year to see how the healers are doing. I’m traveling with him this year.”
“What are the birds for that he carries?”
“I think they go to his cottage in Cherryton,” Sam said. “We are both from there.”
The man nodded. “Tell him he better watch himself. We don’t like strangers in Worrier’s Flat.”
“Are you the headman of the village?” Sam said. “If you have any ailments, he’d be glad to see you. Harrison is better than all the healers that we have met. But then, I’m biased.” Sam forced a grin on his face.
Emmy growled when the man came closer.
“Take your bias to some other village. You tell your healer that,” the man said. “C’mon boys,”
Sam watched the shepherds file into the general store. The woman whom he had talked to rushed out.
“No place is safe when those thugs congregate,” she said, looking worriedly at her untended store.
~
Sam didn't have the desire for any more questioning. The men scared him, and he was sure their encounter with him wasn’t by chance. He passed an old man sitting on a bench, looking out on the village green. The space wouldn’t hold many vendors if Worrier’s Flat used it as a market. Sam decided to sit down with him. It wouldn’t hurt to have another conversation. The man looked at peace, not jittery like those on the potion.
“Good afternoon,” Sam said. “It’s a nice day.”
The old man smiled in a self-satisfied way. “It sure is. I made some money today.”
“You did? Sitting on this bench?”
“Not exactly. There was a mine that went broke twenty-five years ago. To keep us working, the owner gave us all shares in the place. None of the other miners wanted to sell their shares, but I finally did today.”
“To the shepherds?”
The man gave Sam a funny look. “How did you know?”
“Aren't they the only strangers in town?”
“You are a stranger. Came with the visiting healer? I saw you on his wagon, along with that beast of a dog you’ve got there.”
“I am a stranger, but I didn’t
buy your mining shares. Did you get a good price?”
The man winked and nodded to Sam. “I did at that. I’ve got a heavy purse hidden in my cottage and a good supply of their happy potion.”
“What is the happy potion?”
“Oh, that? They give it out to all the miners as a way to get them to sell, but even with that, they refuse. My old friends don’t know what’s good for them. They keep saying if this guy wants it, there will be others who will pay more. We all talk to one another and even write letters. We are like an old club, but too many of us seem to be dying out.” He put his finger on the side of his nose. “Don’t you tell any of my friends that I’ve sold my shares. They will be mad at me, but I’m not getting any younger. I can help out my daughter who lives in Riverville. She needs the coin more than I ever will. I’m glad enough I have a little of that happy potion. It’s not as good as alcohol, but I can get to feeling mighty good in the privacy of my cottage.”
And die like all the rest, Sam thought. “My friend has a lot of herbs. We’ve been collecting them on our way. Maybe he can make some of the herbs for the potion. If I had a pinch or two, he could tell you what goes into it. Then maybe you can stroll in the hills and get some of your own.”
“He’s that good with herbs?”
Sam nodded his head. “I’ve only met one person who might be better.”
“Come along then.” The ex-miner got up. “Don’t get any notions to steal my purse. I’ve had it hidden really well.”
“I won’t. I have money of my own,” Sam said.
They walked out of the green in the direction of Blane’s house, but then took a turn to a familiar set of miner’s cottages. It was like the ones he had seen before. The man let Sam inside but demanded that Emmy remain out.
He took a large pouch from his mantle and let Sam grab a small amount. He put the herbs in his pocket and thanked the man.
“We are staying at Blane the healer’s house,” Sam said.
“I’ll be along tomorrow sometime,” the miner said.
Sam untied Emmy from a hitching post and hurried to Blane’s cottage. Harrison and Blane were examining an old woman with an awful-sounding wheeze.
Blane poured hot water on a collection of herbs and dried fruit.
“You can drink this after it has cooled to room temperature,” Blane said. “You can breathe the fumes, until then.”
The woman gave them a breathy goodbye as she shuffled out the door.
Sam emptied the herbs out of his pocket. “This is the same stuff, isn’t it?”
Harrison took a pinch and sniffed. “It is.”
Sam looked at the little pile more closely and then put his spectacles on. “This has sheep pollen in it!” he said.
“A missing ingredient. I wonder what it does?” Blane said.
Harrison shook his head. “I don’t know. It could be an addictive element. It might cause the sores or lengthen out the time before the potion becomes deadly. I wonder who came up with such a combination.”
“I told you the pollen might be used as a combination. Maybe it makes a person more compliant to suggestion.”
“That would make sense. Sheep are always shifting in the same direction. Miners taking the potion with neural pollen might be more willing to sell,” Harrison said with the ghost of a smile. “We might have to experiment, although that won’t be done in the mountain villages.”
“We shouldn’t send any more birds from here,” Sam said.
“Why not?”
Sam related his run-in with the shepherds outside the general store and then gave them the full story behind the miner’s purse and his bag of ‘happy potion.’”
“So a mine is wrapped up in all this,” Harrison said.
“Not only that,” Sam said. “There is a trail that shepherds often use to sell their sheep to Gruellians. The storekeeper said shepherds will do that rather than paying taxes to the king.”
“I knew about that,” Harrison said. “Although shipping thousands of sheep to the north is not something to ignore, but we’ve already sent birds to Bentwick and others about that.” He looked at Blane. “I’m afraid we will cut our visit to Worrier’s Flat a little short, this year.”
“Going to run?” Blane said.
“Not exactly,” Harrison said. “I don’t want to put you in danger by our stay. I’m afraid we have already asked too many questions. I am confident that help will be on the way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
~
S AM LOOKED BACK AT WORRIER’S FLAT. He was very glad to leave, but had the feeling that they weren’t out of danger, yet. Another hour or two, and they would leave the shepherds and the sheep behind and head to Shovel Vale, where the thieving merchant and his wife were allegedly from.
They were crossing the saddle that started the downward slope of the flats when Emmy started barking. Harrison looked behind.
“About ten thugs are approaching.”
Sam turned, and then leaned over to get his sword out.
“No sword. Ten is too many. Have your wand ready, but nothing more. Try to control Emmy. We both don’t want the dog hurt.”
Harrison urged the horses on to forestall the inevitable confrontation.
“They waited until there were no witnesses,” Sam said.
Harrison shook his head. “I should have gone right through Worrier’s Flat when I saw the sheep. Sometimes getting more information than you need only brings more trouble, and here it comes.”
“You don’t really mean that, do you?” Sam said.
Harrison managed a grin. “No, I don’t. We have more information, but there is more we need. Hopefully, we will make it to Shovel Vale.”
Their pursuers finally caught up to them. Sam put his spectacles away so the ‘shepherds’ wouldn’t steal them.
“Stop your wagon, healer,” a shepherd said. He was the same man who confronted Sam at the general store.
Harrison nodded and pulled to a stop. Sam patted Emmy on the head. “Steady girl,” he said. He kept his hand on Emmy as Harrison stopped the wagon.
“Where do you think you are going?” The man said.
“Shovel Vale,” Harrison said. “It is always next on my summer tours.”
“You’ve done this before?” the shepherd asked.
“Every year for five years. You can ask the innkeeper where you are probably staying, and Blane, the village healer, will back my claim up.”
“But you are a spy,” another man said.
“I’ve never made a secret of that. I send my observations about how the village healers are doing to the Healing Ministry in Baskin. That’s why I’m here. Do you want to see my notes?”
The shepherds looked at one another. “Notes?”
Harrison rummaged around in a box behind the driver’s seat and pulled out a notebook. “My observations are all here. They are confidential, but,” he cleared his throat, “I can make an exception in your case,” he said, handing the notebook over.
Sam had noticed Harrison writing notes, but not in that journal. He watched the shepherd pore over Harrison’s writing. Harrison didn’t show any of the anxiety that Sam felt, as the boy noticed the other shepherds giving them both nasty looks. None of them had drawn their weapons.
The leader grunted and handed the notebook back. “What about your birds?”
Harrison gave the man a smile. “I send messages to a colleague in Baskin. They are delivered to various constabularies along the way and the messages are transferred a few times before reaching the capital. They have the facilities to keep birds, and my healers don’t. I send my progress from time to time.”
“You sent at least two birds from Worrier’s Flat,” the shepherd said.
“I did. I sent one to let the Ministry know where I am, and another with news of the death of Blane’s wife. She helped him quite a bit, and the Ministry will send another healer out in three months or so to check on him.”
“Hmm.” The leader said. “You watch
your step. I’m sending word on ahead of you. I have colleagues all through the mountains. I don’t trust you, but I won’t do anything now.”
A few of the men pulled their swords and notched the top of the wooden railing around the wagon before heading back to Worrier’s Flat, a more physical warning than the one they had just been given orally. Harrison twisted in his seat and watched them head back up to the flats and the sheep that they were tasked to tend.
Sam patted Emmy. “You did well, Emmy,” Sam said just before he turned around.
“I didn’t know you kept another set of notes,” Sam said.
“I usually don’t, but after your encounter with the shepherds on the street in broad daylight, I thought we might need a little diversion. I’ve had to do such a thing once before, but then I was entering Mount Vannon, and my observation notes documented villager complaints about the town lord.”
“You should have told me,” Sam said.
Harrison grinned. “I just did. If you have to fetch my notebook, I’ll be keeping the presentable one on the top in my box from now on.”
“Are your tours always like this?”
“Not this exciting, no, but as I said, there are always surprises. We’ve had more than our share, and I—”
A rider, one of the shepherds, rode past them and continued onwards. Shovel Vale was the next village, so the leader of the shepherds made good on his warning.
“There he goes,” Harrison said. “He’ll be warning the thugs that we are moving farther into their territory. Perhaps we will be a little more discreet, except for a visit to the local constabulary. We’ve already set a precedent for that.”
Sam watched the horse disappear over a slight rise as the road descended into another larger valley than Worrier’s Flat. “That is Shovel Vale at the other end of the valley?” he asked.
“It is a bit larger than Riverville and could be called a town, but the king has never appointed a town lord, so it remains a village.”
“Just like Riverville?”
Harrison nodded. “And Oak Basin. The mountain villages aren’t as rich as the lowlands unless there are more mines discovered, or new veins are discovered. There aren’t many active mines in Toraltia. Mount Vannon was elevated to a town just before the mining crash. It was headed to be larger than Cherryton and Mountain View combined, but once the mines stopped producing, Mount Vannon stopped growing. Still, there is a town lord, and that makes it a town, regardless of its size.”