Passages

by Olan Thorensen

  “You spread the word that anyone causing trouble will be directed to me. No one’s going to harass our workers. I’ll see to it.”

  The jeweler gave a tight smile, shrugged, and moved on to plans for the next months.

  Mark only partly listened the next half hour—responding enough that Wiflow didn’t know Mark had switched to thinking about the leaf spring project.

  I wonder if I can release both products at the same time? he thought. Pins and springs. If it takes two months to produce enough safety pins, maybe there’s time. I’ll talk again with Hamston.

  He forced his mind back to Wiflow, except for sporadic visions of wealth and technological innovations.

  Tomtun Wiflow had listened while his father discussed the day’s success and future plans. He had questions but waited until Mark left the shop.

  “I admit I was pessimistic the pin sales would go so well, Father. Kaldwel always seemed too optimistic, but I was wrong to want to be more cautious.”

  “Oh, you weren’t wrong, Tomtun. A bit of caution is never wrong. I suspected the sales would go well, but even I was surprised at how well. However, I’ll admit I’m a little worried that Mark needs a bigger dose of caution. When we move on to Kaledon and Brawsea, there will be many unknowns. If he doesn’t stay alert, then you and I need to be. I think it will work out, but I suspect Mark will come up with other innovations as well. I just hope he doesn’t get so confident he misses possible warning signs.”

  CHAPTER 9

  KALEDON

  That night, Mark sat with the Hoveys for evening meal. Leading the menu was elswyn, a chicken-size murvor that tasted more liked salmon. The chemistry that paired the odd flavor with a flying creature was lost on Mark. Yet he became a fan of the dish after he got over eating something that looked semi-reptilian.

  He hadn’t decided when to bring his hosts into his leaf spring plans. He thought he would wait until the meal’s end before probing for a way to get to Kaledon.

  Once an Anyar year, Ulwyn took a longer trade route to include a stop in Kaledon, almost 300 miles away. It was the second-largest city in Frangel with a population of 300,000. In the city, Ulwyn would replenish his stock of trade goods that weren’t easily available to his usual customers. When he was younger, Ulwyn also went to Brawsea every two or three years. However, the Frangel capital, with a population of almost 500,000, was more than a 400-mile trip from Tregallon and was now too far for the aging trader to travel. Talk at the evening meal touched on the topic of the upcoming trip to Kaledon.

  Mark was prepared to give his argument for making a Kaledon trip. However, before he started, Gwanel looked expectantly at her husband.

  “Uh . . . Mark . . . there’s something I’ve been thinking about,” said Ulwyn.

  Gwanel harumphed.

  “Well,” said Ulwyn, “it’s something Gwanel and I have discussed. I mentioned to you the yearly trip to Kaledon. In the past, many times Gwanel or one of the children would accompany me, but Gwanel’s back doesn’t tolerate that much time on the roads anymore, and both our children live elsewhere now and have their own lives.”

  Gwanel had borne five children, two of whom had died in childbirth or within the first year, and the third died from an accident. Their son and his family had moved close to Brawsea, the Frangel capital, when his wife’s family had made a work offer they couldn’t refuse. The Hoveys’ daughter lived in a town an hour from Tregallon.

  “The last few years I made the trip alone, but I’ll admit that Gwanel is right. The time is coming when I won’t be able to make the journey alone anymore. You’ve heard me say that I’ve started losing customers for some of the more exotic trade goods since my supply has dwindled or been exhausted. It’s becoming a serious-enough problem that I need to make that trip to Kaledon. I’ve . . . that is, we’ve wondered if you would accompany me next sixday. When added on to my regular trade route, the entire trip will take most of a month.”

  Mark had to suppress his laughter. “Good idea, Ulwyn. It’ll give me a chance to see more of Frangel. I’ll admit I’ve been wondering how to talk to you about my seeing either or both Kaledon and Brawsea. You know I’ve talked with you about starting my own businesses, and this will give me a chance to see Kaledon and better gauge what might be possible.”

  “Don’t forget my warning about getting your hopes too high for introducing new ways. Frangelese people are not always eager for change.”

  “Yet the safety pins seemed to be accepted with no problem.”

  Ulwyn grunted, still annoyed at being kept out of that project.

  Gwanel laughed. “That might be because the pins were eagerly accepted by the womenfolk. Men tend to be more resistant, especially if they’re afraid something new will impact their work or trade. In that case, Ulwyn’s concern might be correct—for once in his life.”

  Mark let the couple perform one of their faux arguments for five minutes before bringing them back to his plans. Neither of the Hoveys grasped the concept of the leaf spring, but he assured them the springs worked. When he suggested that the box seat of Ulwyn’s trade wagon be equipped with springs, Mark suspected the trader’s quick acquiescence was due more to refuting his wife’s testimony about his intransigence than to belief in a smoother wagon ride.

  The following three sixdays, Mark alternated between his two projects. Hamston modified Ulwyn’s wagon with two leaf springs supporting the seat box. An added feature was leather skirting that could quickly be attached to hide the springs.

  “If you want to keep the springs secret,” said Hamston, “you’ll want to hide them from anyone who might understand what they do. You can either leave the skirting on all the time or put it on when passing through villages, towns, and when you get to Kaledon. Then you can work out with Stillum how to keep the springs secret until you’re ready to sell them.”

  While preparing for the trip, Mark gained his first experience with Frangel firearms. He had occasionally seen men carrying muskets or pistols—all flintlocks. Yet it was infrequent enough that Mark interpreted this to mean Tregallon citizens considered themselves reasonably safe. However, Ulwyn brought a musket on his trade route.

  “We’ll need to take more precautions on this trip,” said Ulwyn. “You’ll be carrying a large amount of coin, in case you need it to prepare for selling the pins and springs in Kaledon. Even if people don’t know your intentions, there’s a chance the wrong men know of your and Wiflow’s success with the safety pins. They might suspect you’re carrying some of the profits with you. It’s not uncommon for prosperous people to carry money pouches under their clothing. I’ll take my old musket, but I think we need more. I’ll leave that up to you, but I suggest a couple of pistols and either another musket or a shotgun.”

  The trader stopped speaking and gave Mark a questioning look. “It just occurred to me I’ve never heard you say anything about having used firearms. Have you?”

  “Yes. Both musket and pistol. Not the same types as here, but the principles are the same.”

  Sort of, Mark told himself. My Remington 270 counts as a long-distance gun.

  He’d hunted with his bolt-action rifle from his early teens until he left for the Naval Academy. The last time he’d seen the rifle was alongside other family firearms in his parents’ house twenty or so years ago. At the Academy, he’d been through the standard firearms training, like all midshipmen. That was the last time he’d touched a firearm.

  Following Ulwyn’s advice, he went to the only firearm shop in Tregallon and left with two pistols and a shotgun that reminded him of a blunderbuss, the short, wide-bore precursor to the shotgun. It was useless at long range, but effective for close-in fighting. A high-school friend had owned a copy of a historical blunderbuss and had told Mark more than he needed to know about the weapon. It had been used by eighteenth-century guards, and the flared end of the barrel facilitated loading when on horseback or on a moving conveyance. Anything small and hard enough could be used as projectiles (balls, nails,
even rocks). A pistol version called a dragon and favored by some cavalry had been the origination of the name dragoon.

  Outfitted with his arsenal, one day Mark spent several hours outside Tregallon, practicing loading and firing all three of his purchases. His initial contempt for the flintlock weapons faded as he practiced. He reminded himself that if robbers waylaid them to or from Kaledon, the men wouldn’t be armed with assault rifles and thirty-round magazines.

  Safety pin production ramped up after they hired and trained new workers. Wiflow warned they would have to stop unless Mark returned in a month from Kaledon with a large supply of brass stock.

  Gwanel scolded her husband about behaving himself while away from home. Mark was sure it was the same lecture she’d given Ulwyn for decades. However, when she caught a moment alone with Mark, her moist eyes and entreaty to watch out for Ulwyn bespoke her true feelings.

  They were still within sight of the town when Ulwyn began giving Mark Suvalu language lessons.

  “It’s a simple language without complex rules, as you might expect for a trade language intended to be spoken across much of Anyar, especially in the port cities. Wouldn’t do any good if a trade language took too long to learn. I can teach you the basics, though I don’t speak it fluently on all topics. I’ve only picked up enough over the years to get by with simple exchanges related to my trading. However, if you move to Kaledon or Brawsea and deal with foreigners, it would be best if you know more Suvalu than I can teach.

  “We’ll start with some basic words such as numbers, colors, common trade items, and then action words like walk, run, buy, sell. Once you learn those, we’ll practice as if we’re buying and selling.”

  They were four miles outside Tregallon when Mark removed the clamps that Hamston had included with the springs to prevent their compression.

  “Even when hidden by the skirt,” Hamston had said, “anyone seeing the seat moving different from the rest of the wagon will notice something’s strange. If I was you, I’d put the clamps on when we’re around witnesses and take them off when no one’s around. You can always slow or stop when passing people on remote stretches of road.”

  They followed Ulwyn’s usual trade route heading initially east, away from Kaledon. Before they reached the first trading stop, Ulwyn was a fervent believer in leaf springs.

  “God’s graces, Mark! I concede your springs are marvelous. I only wish you’d decided to be cast away in front of me forty or more years ago to save all those jolts to my ass!”

  The farthest stop was seventy miles east at a coastal town of about one thousand. From there, they began a half circle around Tregallon, weaving in and out to catch stops ranging from hamlets of only a few score inhabitants to towns of up to two thousand.

  On Ulwyn’s suggestion, Mark carried Ulwyn’s old musket while the trader handled the wagon. The two pistols and the blunderbuss were concealed at their feet or within reach behind them.

  “If we appear too armed, it might send a signal we’re transporting something valuable,” said Ulwyn. “Also, if men do intend to stop us, we don’t want them to see us as so dangerous that they think it’s best to shoot first.”

  Two days later, they passed through a village of perhaps a hundred residents, most of whom stood and watched quietly as the strange wagon rolled through—the two men had forgotten to apply the clamps.

  “I wonder what they thought when they saw the wagon bed and seat moving different from each other?” asked Mark, once they left the last staring villager behind.

  Ulwyn laughed. “It’ll probably be talked about for years. Maybe they thought there was magic involved.”

  Thirteen days after leaving Tregallon, they reached the other end of the half circle to the ocean and west of Tregallon.

  “Normally, this is where I turn east to head home,” said Ulwyn, “and I’d be back there in three or four days.

  He suddenly reined in the team, as they met a fork to a smaller road heading south. “Hey, that reminds me. There’s a God’s Tears only a few miles away. It’s been years since I visited it last. Wouldn’t mind refreshing my memory of how odd it is. You might like to see it, too.”

  “God’s Tears? What’s that?”

  “It’s this three- or four-foot crystal coming out of a rock. One of the strangest things I’ve ever seen. Smooth as glass, about the shape of a bluish bird or murvor egg. They’re pretty rare. I only know of two others in Frangel, though there may be more. Used to be called Markot’s Tears after a pagan god.”

  Ulwyn lowered his voice, as if about to say something not quite respectable or believable. “There are stories of people hearing noises coming from one of them—not this one, but one along the east coast of the Timbar Sea. Also, that murvors, birds, and insects won’t land on them. There’s even myths about their origin.”

  The trader cleared his throat, and his voice rose to normal levels. “Of course, I don’t listen to such tales. It must just be some natural crystal. What do you say we take a couple of hours and go see this one? I might not get many more chances.”

  Hell, thought Mark. This is not a sightseeing trip, and I’m certainly not interested in some piece of rock.

  “Maybe on the way back we can make the detour if there’s time,” said Mark. “I’m anxious to get to Kaledon and then back to Tregallon.”

  Ulwyn sighed. “Well . . . if you’re not interested . . . I guess I’ve already seen it, and I doubt it’s changed any.” He flicked the reins, and the horse team started off again.

  “All right, now we’ll keep on west to Kaledon. The springs will let us go faster than I could before, so we should be there in six or eight days, depending on the weather and assuming nothing on the wagon breaks or one of the horses doesn’t die on us.”

  Naturally, one of the horses suffered an accident. On the fifth day heading west parallel to the coast, a fog off the nearby water blanketed the road. Horses and Ulwyn missed seeing a hole in the road. Mark yelled a warning too late, and the left horse broke a leg. The trader was almost in tears. The horse had served him for eight years and was near retirement. Mark offered to put the animal down, but Ulwyn said it was his fault, so he would do it.

  Fortuitously, a village was a mile behind them. Mark walked back and paid an exorbitant price for a horse whose owner saw he had a bargaining advantage over travelers not going anywhere without a replacement.

  Ulwyn was morose the next two days until they reached the outlying villages and towns near Kaledon.

  “I always look forward to coming. Oh, not that I want to live here, but the mass of people and the sense of this place having more energy than Tregallon is exciting until it gets annoying.”

  “Where do you plan for us to stay? An inn?”

  “My cousin Argah lives there—or maybe he’s a second cousin. I don’t know. Gwanel understands these things better than I do. Argah’s family visited Tregallon with him when we were both eight or nine years old. We got along fine, and when I first went to Kaledon to buy trade goods, I visited him as a family obligation. He offered to have me stay with his family, and I’ve done that for many years. Last year he was having health problems. I haven’t gotten any news, so I assume he’s all right. He’s a brass and bronze craftsman. That includes some jewelry, but most of his business is utensils, pots, specialized metal fittings, decorations, and various pieces that can’t be iron or copper.”

  The last night before reaching Ulwyn’s relative, they splurged by staying at an inn. It was the first time they’d had a roof over their heads since leaving Tregallon. After a bath, a hearty meal, and several tankards of ale, they slept the sleep of the dead. Early the next afternoon, they passed through the main part of Kaledon.

  The profusion of three- and four-story masonry buildings prompted Mark to ask a question.

  “Are there earthquakes in Frangel?”

  Although I guess they properly should be called “anyarquakes,” thought Mark.

  “Earthquakes?”

  “You kno
w. When the ground shakes for no obvious reason. Could be just small tremors or even strong enough to destroy buildings and open cracks in the ground.”

  “Ah, yes and no. I know of those, but not in Frangel. I hear it sometimes happens in Rumpas in western Drilmar. It’s worse in other places on Anyar, particularly in Ganolar and the northern parts of the territory supposedly controlled by the Harrasedics in eastern Melosia. I wouldn’t know about places farther west like Landolin or western Melosia.”

  I guess the answer was obvious, thought Mark, because if Kaledon had earthquakes, these buildings would have long ago turned into piles of rubble.

  The other feature Mark noticed, perhaps the most striking, was the oppressive stink from the amalgamation of human and animal body odors, fecal matter, cooked and decaying food, and smells from shops and what seemed to be small factories.

  At least, it didn’t hit me all at once, thought Mark. Just crept up on me as we got into the city. This is far worse than in Tregallon.

  He kept telling himself he’d get used to the smells, but he conceded that even if he might come to tolerate them, he’d probably never become accustomed to them.

  Ulwyn deliberately drove through the main plaza. Mark estimated the rectangular shape covered about forty acres, with permanent wooden booths on all sides.

  “From what I hear, there are some versions of central squares in most of the largest cities in realms throughout Anyar. The details seem different, but here in Kaledon the booths are owned by traders, craftsmen, and artisans. You won’t be able to use those unless you find an owner willing to let you use his booth as a favor or by paying him enough. Anyone else has to sell during market day on a spot within the plaza. Those temporary booths can only be set up starting at sunup, and the positions are assigned by monitors working for the Kaledon City Council. Sellers need to come early and line up where monitors have set up a table and a roped corridor. To be sure to get a space, you should come no later than two hours before sunup.”