by B. K. Parent
I set both puzzle boxes before her and showed her how they worked. The rosewood one was the easier of the two to open, and the one that she had called the one with the stripes was made of an assortment of woods and was quite intricate besides being a more difficult puzzle to open. Mistress Fern made quite a display of concentration, examining and opening the two puzzle boxes, but in the end chose the rosewood one. She picked out the small carved creature that looked like a rabbit with stag horns and made a show of being so delighted with her selection that she did not even haggle but paid the price I asked. Meanwhile, the woman who was acting as Mistress Fern’s companion continued to look bored, and the man with the scar on his hand continued to study the cut crystal in the booth down the way with great intensity. After thanking me for her purchase, Mistress Fern moved on and the dance among the three began again.
As I picked up the striped puzzle box, I heard something slide within. Now I know I had picked up only one of the whimsies and placed that in the rosewood puzzle box. Had something come loose in the striped puzzle box as we were opening and closing it? At that moment, Journeywoman Clarisse came back, and I asked her if she would mind taking over the booth while I took a turn around the back of the guildhall to stretch my legs. She said she would be pleased to take over and told Evan to hustle down to the glassworks where Master Rollag awaited him.
Evan looked as if he would rather stay at the booth but reluctantly left saying over his shoulder, “I am just so popular that everybody wants me this day.”
“Get on with you, you rascal,” Journeywoman Clarisse called after him, shaking her head. “That one was born to mischief, I’m thinking. Go on with you too now,” she said to me. “Take your time.”
“I won’t be long. Having a little trouble with this puzzle box and sometimes it helps to be doing something else, like walking, while my hands try to figure it out. Sometimes the eyes and the brain just get in the way.”
With that said I walked back behind the guildhall. I felt fairly certain I would be safe here because there were always folks around. As I walked, I thought over what Mistress Fern had said. Was she telling me she had seen Da, that he was the customer who came in for the mountain herbs, or was she talking about Casper the blacksmith, who was still missing? Maybe she was just talking about a customer who bought mountain herbs. While I had been walking and thinking, my fingers had swiftly moved the parts of the puzzle box through their patterns and the puzzle box opened with a quiet snick. I looked around to see if anyone was nearby or paying particular attention to me, but no one was, so I opened the puzzle box. Inside was a very small folded paper packet.
Perhaps Mistress Fern should give up her herb shop and take up the life of a slight of hand artist for I sure had not seen her slip that paper packet into the puzzle box, and I was watching her. I am convinced that no one else would have seen her do it either. I so very much wanted to open the packet right then and there but held back, and instead, with as much stealth as I could muster, slipped it into the hidden pocket of my pants. I would examine it when I was safely back at the homewagon.
The afternoon seemed to drag, mostly because I was curious about what was in the paper packet, and several times when there was a lull in the crowds, I was tempted to take another break out back and open it but held tough. I was more than ready to head back to the campsite when the fair closed, and as we had agreed, no one walked back alone. Sharing our supper once again lightened the workload for all of us, and it was a pleasant meal. After eating, the adults gathered to share information.
“We got the word out to the other rovers at the fair about watching their backs and staying in groups,” Oscar reported. “Talked to two rovers who have been plucked off the streets like you were, and they both told the same story. Grabbed by two men, not harmed or robbed, and locked in a small room that sounded very much like the one you described. Told of a heavily-cloaked figure who spoke muffled-like as if talking through the folds of a scarf. Couldn’t really tell if it was a man or a woman. Asked questions about where they had been and where they were going. Asked about Thorval Pedersen. If they knew him, if they had seen him. Told them there was a reward for any information concerning the whereabouts that would lead to his capture. Sizeable reward it is too. Didn’t give any clue as to why this man is so important to someone with a lot of coin to throw around. I’ll tell you one thing. This grabbing rovers off the street has their backs up and may have the opposite effect than what the snatchers anticipated. We rovers are a pretty independent lot for the most part. Don’t take much to being organized like guild folks, begging your pardon Journeywoman, no insult meant.”
“None taken,” answered Journeywoman Clarisse.
“At any rate,” Oscar continued, “those that I talked to this day were a bit crunched off, if you get my drift. When I left the fair campgrounds this night, there was quite a bit of talk about forming small caravans to move from one fair to the next. Also quite a bit of talk about making sure we all come together at the coming fairs and camp closer together. We have always had the tradition of helping each other out, and what has happened here will only make that tradition stronger. Those who are not going on to the larger fairs are going to try to get the word out to any rovers they meet, and perhaps alter their routes a bit so several homewagons can travel together. Don’t much like the feeling that we’re ‘easy pickings’ and so we’re going to make it harder. Can’t help but think the Regent is involved in this somehow.”
“Maybe it’s not the Regent’s agents. They have been pretty straightforward asking about this Pedersen fellow. Seems to me like there might be a new player in the game,” said Oscar’s brother Bertram. “Don’t know what Thorval Pedersen has done to cause this ruckus, but I’m betting he’s gained more than a few supporters among the rovers, just because the Regent and this new somebody seems so intent on finding him. Neither party is treating the rovers with any respect, and that’s a good way to stop the flow of any information from us, I’m thinking.”
Talk continued for awhile. It was decided that our five wagons would travel together and we would leave very early the morning after the fair closed. It would take us two days to get to the next big town and the next fair, barring bad weather. Since tomorrow was the last day of this fair, everyone chose to break up the gathering early and use the remaining light to begin preparations for moving on. Once my chores were done, I was more than ready to crawl into my homewagon and close the door behind me. I only wished I could close all of my troubles on the outside, but they came in with me.
The homewagon had a built-in table between two benches, and it was there I parked myself. I had closed the curtains and lit the lantern over the table to give myself some light. I retrieved the paper packet from my pocket and slowly opened it. Inside was a ring, but a mighty odd-looking one. Strangely enough, it felt very warm in my hand. It was, to my best guess, gold, but it was its shape that held my gaze. It was a ring, true, but not a band the likes of which some married folks wear, nor did it have any stones set in it. At first glance, the very narrow band looked as if it had been all bent out of shape, but on closer inspection, the more I looked at it, the more it looked like maybe it had been made that way. I also noticed deep scratches along the band, which did not look like a regular pattern, but again looked like they had been carved into the band rather than put there by hard wear. It was not until I picked up the paper packet, unfolded it to smooth it out and put it away, since the paper was too good to waste, that I noticed the writing on the inside.
Chapter Seventeen
I brought the light closer so I could make out the tiny writing on the paper. It read:
This ring is no longer safe with me, friend of Haakens.
Others seek it along with Haakens. Guard it well.
Keep it hidden. Be careful who you trust.
It needs to be made whole again like our land.
Take . . .
It looked like the writer, presumably Mistress Fern, had meant to write more but had not the time or the chance. Just great. Now along with a missing Da, tunnels under the cottage we never knew about, going on the road and who knew where that would lead me, being snatched off the street and held captive, now I have a ring I need to keep safe, and a riddle. “It needs to be made whole again.” Now just what did that mean? And just who is Haakens anyway?
Since I was not going to solve any of these questions this night, I found a bit of stout cord and tied the ring on it, placing the cord around my neck and tucking it in my shirt. Seemed the safest place for it at the moment. As the ring touched my bare skin, I felt a flair of heat and then only the weight of the cord around my neck. When the opportunity arose, I would need to buy a fine chain. Because the ring got me thinking about pretty baubles, I remembered the colored glass I had gotten from the glassworks and thought perhaps the Neebings might like them. I picked out several, one blue and one green, and put them in the Neebing room before collapsing on my bed. Surprisingly, sleep came quickly.
I woke suddenly to a pounding on the side of the homewagon, and my heart quickly jumped into my throat, remembering the last time there was a pounding on my homewagon. I finally recognized the voice when I could hear it over the beating of my heart.
“Come on sleepyhead, you going to sleep the day away?” called Journeywoman Clarisse.
“Alright, I’m awake. I’ll be right out,” I called back as I scrambled into my clothes and grabbed my pack.
Carz, who had sprawled out on the bed, opened one eye to look at me, yawned showing all of his teeth, and laid his head down, placing a paw over his eyes. “I take it that you are not going to accompany me this day. I’ll leave the top of the front door open for you. Don’t make a pest of yourself with Mistress Jalcones, and don’t try to tell me she isn’t slipping you treats all day.” Carz did not even twitch an ear in reply.
Journeywoman Clarisse again pounded on the homewagon. In my hurry, I almost forgot to tuck the ring beneath my shirt, and that might have created questions I did not want to answer.
The final day of the fair was almost a let down. Many of the merchants began to close up their booths by midday. Because sales were slow to nonexistent, I began to pack most of my stock and tools away in preparation for moving the cart back to the campsite at the end of the day. It was about mid-afternoon when one of the masters from the guildhall came to the booth and asked Journeywoman Clarisse if she would please come with her. The master begged my pardon but said it was important. With her was a journeyman who she instructed to pack Journeywoman Clarisse’s stock for safe travel and put it in her wagon, which was parked in back of the guildhall. I did not know if I should be worried.
Once the two were heading up the steps of the guildhall, the journeyman who had introduced himself as Journeyman David said, “Do not worry for your friend, rover. All will be well, you’ll see.”
He then turned away, began carefully packing the delicate glass items and did not invite further discussion. Journeywoman Clarisse was still not back when the final horn sounding the end of the fair blew. Journeyman David helped me disassemble the booth, and as I was hitching up the cart, said he would be my escort back to the campsite. It was a very silent walk back.
We had almost finished dinner by the time Journeywoman Clarisse’s wagon rolled in, and to my surprise, Evan was riding with her. He hopped down from the wagon, and with a dramatic flick of his cloak over his shoulder and a grand sweep of his arm, he said in a very pompous voice, “Ladies and gentlemen, children and cat, may I present Master Clarisse.”
A bright red color crept up from the now Master Clarisse’s neck as she jumped down from her wagon and playfully swatted Evan. The rest of us applauded and cheered. When the noise died down, Mistress Jalcones, who was the most practical of us, asked if the two had eaten.
Once she had each of them settled with a plate of dinner in their hands, I said, “Made Master this afternoon, aye? Well, that’s one way to get out of packing up your part of the booth.”
“No one was more surprised than I was,” Master Clarisse answered back, “and I am sorry about not being there to help close up. I hope Journeyman David helped you once he was done with my wares.”
“Not a problem. The afternoon was slow and so I was pretty much packed away and ready to take the booth down at the end of the fair. Journeyman David was very helpful and even walked back with me. Who arranged that? Not that I minded, mind you.”
“Probably Master Rollag. He was less than overjoyed when he heard about your abduction. He has taken quite a shine to you, I think. Not so much a shine to me, however, for along with the new pressure of being a master, he has assigned Evan to me as my apprentice. I cannot imagine what I have done so wrong in my life to have to carry this burden,” Master Clarisse sighed, going for a mournful look but not quite being successful. Evan, however, was much more successful at looking crestfallen.
Oscar just slapped his knee and let out a belly laugh that could be heard all over camp. “Auk, ’tis going to be a fun journey with those two traveling with us,” he said between chuckles. “Congratulations Master Clarisse on both being made Master and for acquiring such a fine apprentice. If the burden gets too much for you, I am sure we can put the lad to work. Maybe even make a rover out of him.”
“Much as I have enjoyed this folderol and foolishness, not to mention a fine meal and your good wishes, I had best put my new apprentice to work helping me rearrange the wagon so his gear is stowed properly and doesn’t fall off the back on the first major rut we hit in the road. Come along, apprentice,” Master Clarisse said in a mock stern voice. “Best hop to and earn your keep.” This display of being in command was somewhat spoiled by the wink she gave him.
I went through the routine of making sure everything was ready to go the next morning, once again looking to see that there was firewood for the next folks to camp there, checking that the fire was truly out, hauling water to top off the water barrels, inspecting the wheels and tack to make sure all were in order, hitching up the cart, and other chores. It struck me that I was just a bit jealous of the others I would be traveling with for they all had someone to share the long hours on the road, and while I had Carz, he was not a great conversationalist. I missed my family, as small as it was, and I missed the villagers. This must be what loneliness felt like.
Not one normally prone to self pity, I shook off the melancholy I was feeling and with a last look around to see if I had missed something, I went inside. Once there, it struck me that in my hurry to get going this morning, I had not checked the Neebing room so I cranked it up and opened it. At first I thought there was nothing there but then the light glinted off something shiny. I figured it was probably the light reflecting off of one of the glass baubles I had put in the night before, but when I reached in, my hand closed around a small circle of metal which was surprisingly warm. I pulled it out, slowly opened my fingers and there in my palm was a ring very similar to the one Mistress Fern had left in the puzzle box. Had the Neebings left it? Quickly I pulled out the cord with the ring that hung around my neck and placed the first ring side by side in my hand with the ring I had just found. They were both gold, they looked almost alike, but the twists in them were slightly different and the grooves just slightly off. Not a matched pair but close. What was I to make of this?
Just to be sure, I looked again into the Neebing room and saw what I had not seen before. A sheet of paper, very much the color of the room’s wall, was jammed against the side of the room. I carefully removed it trying not to tear the paper. On the outside there was written one word. It said “Nissa” in a handwriting I knew as well as my own. I opened the paper and read:
Nissa,
Tried to get close enough to talk to you at the fair, but your booth was always being watched as was your homewagon during the day. Do not think they were watchin
g you personally, but rather, they are watching rovers in general. The two men in the tent who say they are farmers are not what they seem. Hold on to this ring. It is important. I have had too many close calls to continue to keep it. I will try to find a way to meet with you in two weeks at the fair in Crestbury. Too dangerous to meet before then. Destroy this message. Hope the Neebings do not mind I switched gifts. Stay safe.
A friend of Haakens
I sat down abruptly. Da had been here. He had been here. So close. At least I knew that as of yesterday, he had been alive. I sat for a very long time holding the paper to my chest, reluctant to let go of even this little piece of Da. Finally, I opened the door to the small wood stove, put the paper in, and lit it. I watched until I was sure all of it had been consumed and then pushed the ash around with a stick to make sure there was nothing left. I hoped no one noticed the wisp of smoke coming from the chimney stack.
All at once, I was very angry. Da should have found a way to see me. No, that was not fair, but at the very least he could have written a longer note and let me know what was going on. No, that was not fair either. He was being cautious. So far, it would seem I was just another rover to those who were looking for him and had not been discovered to be Thorval Pedersen’s daughter. Even Da had addressed the note to Nissa rather than to Arial, so if the note had been found by someone other than me, that connection still might not have been made, and he had not signed his name.
Resigned that I would have to wait at least another two weeks for contact with Da, I pulled the cord over my head, untied it, slipped the cord through the new ring, retied the cord, and tucked the rings beneath my shirt. Where the rings touched my bare skin, heat flared and then once again I could only feel the weight of the cord.
One could only wish that at least one of the note writers this day could have been more informative. First, Mistress Fern’s note was not finished, and then, Da’s note was cryptic at best. Now, I had two rings that two folks in one day felt were too dangerous for them to keep. What made my having them any less dangerous? Then, of course, let us not forget the two “farmers” across the way. I would give anything to have just a few minutes of Da’s time to get some explanation, or at the very least some direction, as to what I was to do next besides travel on and keep the rings hidden. Just what had he gotten me into anyway?