Railroad Rising: The Blackpowder Rebellion

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Railroad Rising: The Blackpowder Rebellion Page 12

by J. P. Wagner


  When they finally stopped at the Railway Station, Carrtog noticed that his new bride wakened with a start, looking round for a moment before remembering where she was. He recalled the rough ride they had undergone and felt a tinge of guilt that he had near enough forced her to this sudden long journey at the end of what could only be considered a trying day.

  “Addy, my dearest, I apologize! I hadn’t thought how tired you must already be! Would you prefer to go back to that bed that is so near, rather than go rushing all over the kingdom on a noisy, smelly train?”

  She paused, then pulled herself up straight. “Nonsense! I knew at the start I was being invited along on a long trip, and I’d think myself a poor sort indeed if I suddenly changed my mind now. Besides, I’ve never yet ridden on a train, and it should be some sort of an adventure.”

  The train yard was lit by a number of oil lanterns on poles, which provided a faint orange glow. The engine was very much in shadow, and though the light was poor, Carrtog could recognize the sights and sounds of a working engine. In fact, many of the lessons Gwaitorr had taught him had involved visits to this same train-yard so he could see and even on occasion be in the cab with the engineer. To have the man himself explain the use of the various controls, and how a person could tell from the sound the engine was making whether it was time to pull out the throttle, or to apply the brakes, or take other actions.

  In fact, he had a slight sneaking hope that he might be able to convince the engineer to let him ride in the cab for a little part of this trip.

  He realized that a great part of achieving that would be convincing Adengler to let him do so without argument. He smiled, a little guiltily, understanding that that, too, would be another burden he put on her. Perhaps he should put the notion aside altogether. He would have to see how matters proceeded as they traveled.

  Despite the lateness of the hour the maids were all still quite cheery and romantic, though the men, of varying ages, were less happy about the whole affair. Yakor took a pouch of silver and divided it among them all, which encouraged them at least to the point of grim smiles.

  The men took charge of getting the luggage to the appropriate cars, after which the train crews saw to getting things stored. The crews inquired as to which bags might have items that would be required on the journey. Yakor had given the servants careful instructions regarding this very matter so that packing had been done with this in mind and therefore there was very little confusion.

  In the normal run of things, should they all be traveling separately, Carrtog and Adengler would be traveling in one coach toward the front of the train and all the rest would be further back. However, it was understood that Lord Carrtog and his wife might at some time have need of their servants, so in this case they were established in the rear section of this coach with a discreet dark green curtain dividing the two portions.

  The train started off slowly in its first jerking motion, but soon settled down to a fast and relatively smooth ride. Even at its smoothest, though, there was a constant clicking of the steel wheels as they hit the joints between the iron rails.

  The seats were upholstered and reasonably comfortable, but Carrtog was a little keyed up to actually fall asleep immediately. Adengler, on the other hand, dropped off very shortly.

  With nothing but starlight to view the scenery through the small glass windows, only the occasional copse of trees or rounded shoulder of a hill and sometimes a small farmstead could be seen.

  Dawn began to break, but Carrtog still continued to drowse much of the time.

  When the sun had completely risen, a man came through with a large metal pot from which he poured cups of a dandelion-root tisane sweetened, if desired, with honey. This was provided as a service to the travelers, and both Carrtog and Adengler took advantage of it. Carrtog gave Adengler a quick description of what he had learned of the benefits of the drink, at which she smiled and said, “I’m afraid, my dearest, that marriage to you may be a very educational experience.”

  He felt himself blush. “I’m sorry, I just sometimes find myself wanting to pass on some of what I’ve learned.”

  She reached over and put a hand on his knee. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! I really like to learn things. Well, most things. I don’t think I want to try to learn any magic, but even that might change.”

  A little later that morning, the train stopped at a small station for more fuel and water. The passengers were allowed to step outside and stretch their legs a little, though they were warned that the train would start moving shortly so they should be ready to reboard as soon as the whistle sounded again. There was nowhere really to go, only a few buildings on a hillside, all the surrounding landscape still green with the grass and foliage of the summer. The buildings housed the crews who handled the water and the fuel for the engine. Most of the travelers did get out and walk around. Few had slept well during the night and most had been drowsing during the morning.

  A man and wife team had set up a small booth from which they sold wine and skewers of cooked meat. “The railroad company would be wise to offer some similar service on the train itself,” Carrtog commented.

  “But the swaying motion of the train would make it difficult to serve food, let alone to eat it,” replied Adengler.

  “That wouldn’t be an insurmountable problem;” Carrtog responded. “And it would definitely make long railroad journeys more tolerable.”

  “I haven’t found this trip to be intolerable!” Addy protested. “Long, but not intolerable. And I’m seeing a part of the kingdom I’d never seen before.”

  Carrtog grinned. “So am I. And in the best of company, as well.”

  “My lord Carrtog, you are an inveterate flatterer!”

  “Me? Lady Adengler, I only tell the truth!”

  Her eyes shone with laughter. “Indeed? I shall have to watch myself in your company, I can tell. I—”

  She was interrupted by a blast from the train’s steam whistle, and the train-crew began to call out, “Lords, ladies, and all, please come aboard! The train must be under way!”

  The passengers boarded, first the lords — there were two in the ‘lord’ class other than Carrtog and Addy — and then the lower class. This latter included the servants traveling with them.

  Carrtog noted from the sound of the engine that the crew had started gathering steam somewhat before the boarding call so that shortly after they had boarded the train began its first jerky movement. It wasn’t long before the train had reached its normal traveling speed, and once more they were making their way through the hills and forests.

  By this time, they had become somewhat used to the scent of burning coal and hot oil that permeated the air within the coach. They had been traveling for about two hours when one of the train crew came in to announce, “Lords, Ladies, one-half hour to the stop at the station in Harragush Village.”

  Carrtog realized that he had been too involved in conversation to even think of asking to see the steam engine. He felt a bit embarrassed to have even considered it.

  “This is a beautiful countryside, Carrtog. Is it part of your land?”

  He shook his head. “My understanding is that Harragush Village is a village with a free charter. There is a history behind that which I don’t quite understand. The village performed some particular service to one of the early holders of the title.”

  The Station at Harragush Village was of larger size than many other stations whose main function was to provide coal and water for the draft engines. Indeed, the quarters provided for the Station Crew — at least Carrtog suspected that was the purpose of the several buildings on the same style as the Station — were much larger than similar buildings at other fuel and water stops along the way.

  Harragush Village itself was a bustling little town, almost too large to rate the designation of ‘village.’ It was no surprise to Carrtog that a village with a free c
harter would attract numbers of people for that reason alone, merchants, shopkeepers, smiths, and various artisans.

  Two carriages were waiting at the Station for Carrtog and his party, along with twelve armed guards. A number of villagers were also gathered there, looking on.

  The Chief Coachman, a strongly-built man with a short black beard, introduced himself and his companion. “Lord Carrtog? I am Manwydan, Chief Coachman of Nandycargllwyd, and with me is my assistant Sawyl.” Sawyl was younger a little slighter, but still strongly-built, with reddish hair and a slight beard.

  Manwydan glanced at the villagers and said, “We’d best be loaded and away, Lord. This lot won’t likely cause any trouble, but best not to let them get started.”

  “Why should there be any trouble, Manwydan?”

  “There shouldn’t, Lord. But some eleven years ago, a lord name of Pentarric was given the land, and he made an attempt to revoke the free charter. This upset the villagers badly, and they blocked off the roads to the town. Pentarric was killed in a skirmish, and having no heirs, the land revoked to the throne. The king of that time sent a message to assure the villagers that their charter remained. When the people heard that a new lord had been appointed, one who had the favor of the new king, rumors began to spread that you would use the king’s favor to try to revoke their charter once more.”

  Carrtog looked at the Coachman. “Other than that, what are the relationships between my land and the village?”

  Manwydan frowned. “Hard to say for certain, Lord. They’re willing to buy and sell from us, but some are right touchy about what they consider their ‘free rights.’”

  Carrtog turned to Addy, “You stay here, heart of mine. I’m quite certain I can manage this without trouble, but just in case, you should keep back. Yakor, come with me.”

  “You aren’t about to do something foolish, are you, boy?”

  “I hope not. In fact, I hope to ease a number of minds.”

  He began to walk toward the villagers. His sword had been clumsy to wear in a coach or a train, so he had taken it off and left it with the baggage. He hoped that would show that he had no ill intentions in mind.

  He looked them over. Most of them were men who seemed of no trade, who perhaps worked as laborers for whoever would hire them, though several looked like tradesmen or shopkeepers.

  “Good morning,” he said. “I would imagine you have heard of me, probably all sorts of things, no more than a few of them having the least connection to the truth. However, I wish to assure you that I have no intention, now or in the future, of making any attempt to change the relationship between your village and my land. You have been free up to now, and you shall remain free from now on, so far as I am concerned.”

  He stopped and continued to look them over. Finally, one of the more prosperous-looking tradesmen stepped out of the group and spoke. “You wouldn’t be trying to smooth our ruffled feathers for the moment, so you can come back later with more soldiers and take us by surprise?”

  Carrtog drew himself up. “I have no idea what sort of lords you have dealt with before, but I have spoken, and I will stand by my word.”

  The tradesman nodded. “And I give you my own word that, so long as you deal with us fairly, we will deal with you fairly.”

  “A good morning to you all, then, and I shall be driving out to my home.”

  The tradesman bowed, then walked away, with first one, then two of the more prosperous-looking ones following. The rest began to look around at each other and a few of the more ruffianly sort muttered together, a few of them looking down at the roadway for stones, then, deciding that nothing was about to happen here, they too wandered away.

  Yakor muttered loud enough for Carrtog to hear, “Well, you were successful, this time boy. More good luck than anything else, I think. What if one of those toughs had decided ‘Gods blast it all!’ and flung a stone, and neither you nor I with more than a belt-knife to hand? It could well have turned out that way, you know.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  “Huh!” The older man snorted. “At the very least, you ought to have called those troopers to stand behind us, those troopers someone had the forethought to send and watch us for just such an occasion.”

  “And that would have made those people certain that I was about to bully them. Let’s continue to and see this new home of ours.”

  #

  The drive was a longish one, a drive which wound in and out among hills, some wooded and some not. Carrtog marked the occasional neatly-kept farmstead, and some neat herds of small, long-horned, shaggy cattle.

  “If these are my lands, as I assume, my bailiff seems to be taking his task seriously. Everything seems well-looked-after.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” asked Yakor. “Of course, all these are along the road in, and would be the first you see as you come in. Might there not be others, not quite so easily found, that might not be in such good condition?”

  Carrtog looked at him. “That could indeed be so, but until that proves to be the case, I will believe the man to be doing his job, and doing it well. If it does prove that he has put a high shine on this one strip of lands to the detriment of others of my people, well, I will not let that go, either.” Yakor nodded, the expression on his face being that of a teacher who finds his student giving a series of proper answers.

  The House of Nandycargllwyd was large and well-built. Gunpowder, steam-power, and magic had made castles useless, but even still the large house was mostly built of stone, with only some parts made of wood. It went without saying that it was largely protected by magic, likely of various sorts.

  He would have to look into just what spells were protecting it and decide whether or not they needed refreshing.

  Of course, whatever magicians were on staff would likely have their opinions as to the necessity of any changes to the spells at all; depending on their attitudes, he might well have to approach the matter with caution. It would not do to have a fairly powerful magician annoyed at you, particularly one who knew the defenses of your home backward and forward.

  “Carrtog, my dear.” Addy’s voice broke into his thoughts. “What are you thinking of so deeply?”

  He lifted his head sharply, then gave a description of his general thoughts. When he finished describing his concerns regarding how the staff magicians might react to the thought of a new lord with some pretensions of magical ability, she laughed out loud.

  “My dear, you do choose the queerest things to worry about! Suppose the chief magician is a fellow who learned his magic long ago and is well aware that he has not been able to keep up? Might he not be just as happy to leave the burden in someone else’s hands?”

  “That’s possible, I suppose, but all my knowledge of magicians says that they’re a jealous lot, unwilling to admit that anyone knows as much as they, let alone more. But you’re right, I should wait until I meet the man, or men, before I make any sort of decision.”

  The coach started up the long road that swept up into a half-circle in front of the manor house. From there the coachmen could drive the unloaded coaches around to the coach house.

  Someone had clearly been watching from the windows, for when they were still quite some way from the doors, the doors opened and a crowd of people poured forth. It was no unorganized mob, though, for first about twelve troopers wearing the uniform of the house came out and took up spaced positions along the drive, centered on one whose uniform marked him as the commander. Following them were people wearing the clothing appropriate to major servants, such as the bailiff, the steward, and the magister magorum, and so on, ending with the servants who would be responsible for carrying their luggage and showing them to their rooms.

  “Well,” Carrtog said, “they’re ready for us at the house at least.”

  The others were looking out the windows, and Adengler’s face took on a look of trepidation.


  “Don’t worry, dear. Remember that you’re the mistress of the house, but also that a servant who always has to fear your anger over the slightest of things will not likely be a happy one, nor one capable of giving good service.”

  She glanced over at him, but the expression of concern did not lessen appreciably. “Thank you, dearest, but a woman learns very early that at some time she will have to take charge of a household, with servants who have often been serving for longer than she has been alive, and it can be dreadfully easy to get a bad start and be known as someone who constantly has to change her orders because she’s made a mistake as to how easy or difficult something is to do. And if she deals with such problems poorly, she can get a reputation as one who is impossible to satisfy.”

  He continued to smile, saying, “The worst thing to do is to fret yourself over things that are unlikely to happen. Your mother must have trained you for this, surely? Then all you need to do is to act confident, but be willing to take advice if it seems right. And in the very last instance, you are the mistress, and your husband will support what you order. So come, put on a confident smile, for surely a lady-in-waiting to the princess has learned to deal with servants.”

  When Carrtog got down from the coach and turned to hand Addy down, she was wearing a smile that seemed confident enough. Carrtog returned the salute given by the household troops and with Addy on his arm, moved forward to the first of the servants.

  The bailiff stepped forward. “Welcome to your home, Lord Carrtog. I am your bailiff, Lugan, and at my right is your steward, Bragan.”

  The captain of the household troops strode over smartly, halting in front of Carrtog and saluting sharply.

  Carrtog returned the salute, and the captain said, “Captain Gwaim’nash, commander of your household troops, Lord Carrtog.”

  “Thank you, Captain. What is the strength of our troops, and how are they equipped?”

  “They presently number fifty-four, Lord. A contingent of one hundred ten went to the North under General Malgwyn, and to date thirty-three are reported as surviving and are presently still in the North, being re-equipped for further service. Royal decree permits us to have up to seventy-five under arms on our territory, but the royal command to send a contingent to the North plus some accidental deaths and deaths due to disease have left us considerably under strength.

 

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