Journey's Middle

by B. K. Parent

  I stood in that dim passage, feeling the walls close in and the weight of the rock overhead bear down on me for the first time since we had entered. What had caused Carz to run off like that? Surely he had not picked that precise moment to go hunting for an evening snack. Just then I saw movement down the passage, and Carz reappeared and padded up to me as if he had not a care in the world. He reached up, gently took my slightly damp trembling hand in his mouth, and tugged at me to move forward. I looked at Captain Gwen, and she gave me a questioning look as if to ask “do you trust this hunting cat with your life?” I realized at that moment I did, so I stepped forward cautiously and followed Carz as he turned down a side passage. I do not know why I was surprised when I saw the two folks standing ahead of me.

  “That hunting cat of yours gave us quite a scare a few moments ago,” stated Master Clarisse in a very quiet whisper.

  I tried to stifle the laugh that was trying to get out, for I realized that Master Clarisse and Evan must have heard us coming and ducked into this side passage to hide, just as we had heard them and had moved into the shadows to hide. How long we all would have stood there hiding from each other, listening intently was anyone’s guess. The whole picture in my mind of the two groups, waiting and waiting until we were merely skeletons turning to dust, struck me as extremely funny. Trying to retell the story later, once we were safely out of the underground system, and to explain why I was trying so hard not to laugh at a really tense moment, lost something in the translation. I guess you had to be there and in my head for it to be as funny.

  We left the sewer system through a different exit than we had come in and soon found ourselves outside somewhere between the second and third wall of the town. It was dark, and I am not sure I would ever be able to find the exit in the light of day, not that I would ever need to. We had walked several blocks when Captain Gwen motioned we should follow her down an alley and through the back garden gate to the back door of a small house. I noticed that neither the hinges on the gate nor the door gave a sound when opened and must have been kept well-oiled. Captain Gwen closed and bolted the door behind us, led us down a narrow hallway into the main room, and lit a small lantern, which gave very little illumination to the interior. The room felt small and had a closed-up musty smell, as if this were a house that was not lived in. There were no fresh food smells and no fire in the fireplace. The shutters were tightly closed, not letting in any light from the street lamps nor from light spilling out the windows of the neighboring houses. I felt fairly confident that what little light came from the shielded lantern Captain Gwen had lit could not be seen outside of this room. I wondered about the times we were living in that would call for such a place to be available.

  “I know you need to get back to the fairgrounds before it looks suspicious. Before you head back, could you each tell me what you heard, the names of any you might have recognized, and any other observations you might have gleaned?” Captain Gwen asked, as she pulled a small notebook out of her pouch along with a writing stick and began to take notes.

  I noticed that she must have either been writing in a foreign language, or some type of code, for I could not read what she was writing. Each of us in turn gave her what information we had gathered and descriptions of the folk we had observed. The information certainly solved a few unanswered questions I had had in the back of my mind.

  I was, however, surprised to learn that I was a short woman with long blond hair and had a very large brown dog as a companion, thanks to Thomas’ son’s description of me, bless his heart. I would have to find a mirror soon to see if I had truly shrunk and if my dark auburn hair had somehow had a drastic color change. Carz would be surprised to find out he was not really a hunting cat, but a muddy brown colored dog, and a dumb one at that. I had a surge of worry when the description of Nana was given, but then suddenly I heard my Da’s voice in my head saying, “Don’t worry, Nana can take care of herself,” and unexpectedly felt better. Nana had always been an enthusiastic actor in the midwinter plays the village put on to bring a bit of laughter to the long cold wintertime.

  I listened to what Master Clarisse and Evan had learned. When we had all finished our reports, Captain Gwen closed her notebook with a decisive snap and put it in her pouch.

  “I know Lord Hadrack will be most grateful to all of you for the service you have done him this night. What you heard is valuable information, though worrisome, especially concerning the Princess and how vulnerable and expendable she is to some folks. I know I do not need to caution you about speaking to anyone else about what you did or heard. We will leave the back way in small groups. If you go left down the alley out back, it will take you to Buckthorn Lane. Turn right on Buckthorn Lane and follow it to the main road. Turn right on the main road, and it will take you to the second wall gate. You should be able to find the fair from there. Beezle, if you will come with me back to the keep. We will wait a short while after your friends leave and then go a different way,” said Captain Gwen.

  We said our goodbyes and left the small house after Captain Gwen had doused the lantern. Following her directions, we exited the alley onto Buckthorn Lane, and it was an easy walk back to the fair. Once we turned onto the main road I felt a bit spooked, as if we were being watched, but then just thought it was delayed nerves connected to our adventures of the night. I have to admit I felt a lot better once I was safely in my homewagon, curled up under the covers with Carz lying across my feet. My last thought of the night was to question if Neebings lived in keeps or towns. The idea that they might brought a surprising measure of comfort.

  The rest of the week at the fair was quite busy and somewhat profitable. I discovered that the little whimsies I carved were a hit with both children and adults alike, and I was hard pressed to keep up with the demand. From what I could glean from conversations of both fairgoers and those selling at the fair, the arrangement Lord Hadrack had made for both the setting up of the booths and the living arrangements suited almost everyone very nicely. This new idea of how to arrange the sellers by mixing them up, if nothing else, seemed to bring far more folk by our booths than had come by at the Tverdal fair. We had also heard the Lord of Crestbury had decided to make the same arrangements, which was encouraging to many of the crafters and merchants who were heading that way. I hoped that Master Clarisse, Evan, and I could continue to share booth space, or at the very least have booths next to each other. It was nice to have someone you could trust to cover your booth if you wanted to stretch your legs or see something of the fair yourself.

  Beezle stopped in from time to time throughout the week, and I found I looked forward to his visits. I knew I would miss him when this fair ended. I was just thinking that when his smiling face appeared before me. Since there was a lull in the crowds, it being time for the midday meal and most patrons were seeking out the food booths, I motioned that he should come behind the counter and talk to me. He seemed excited about something.

  “So, what has you grinning this day Beezle?” I inquired.

  “Uncle just had word that the Princess is climbing down out of her high tower and is going to attend the Snoddleton fair, the fair after Crestbury. It is certainly one of my favorite fairs, for it is the bakers’ fair,” said Beezle.

  I remembered it was a fair we rarely missed each year when I traveled with my family. This was the fair that bakers from all over the land came to show off their skill and have their breads, pastries, cakes, tarts, and other baked goods judged. For days the whole town smelled of yeast, warm rolls, and breads. The sweets and confections added a sweet aroma to the air. I remember my mother saying that everyone gained a few pounds the week of the Snoddleton fair just by breathing. I had to pull myself out of my delicious memories and think on what Beezle had just said to really catch the significance of his message. The Princess was finally leaving the capitol and going to attend a fair.

  “Does your uncle think the Princess coming to the
Snoddleton fair is a good idea or a bad idea?” I asked.

  “He’s not sure, but he is very worried,” Beezle said, lowering his voice so it could not be heard outside my booth. “If those who would control what information the Princess receives can’t, she could begin to get an inkling as to what is going on in Sommerhjem and how her subjects feel about her, both positive and negative. She could begin to question the Regent and place herself in a position of danger. Uncle is also torn. He feels he needs to be here to make sure his lands, and the lands of those who are pledged to him, are safe and so should not travel. Yet he also feels he needs to be in Snoddleton to safeguard the Princess. He is beginning to worry about his own safety, since he clearly placed himself in opposition to the Regent during the meetings here this week, and that surely will not go unnoticed. There will be many discussions going on in the keep, burning up the midnight oil for the next few days.”

  “I wonder what he will decide, or for that matter, what can be done?” I asked.

  “I don’t really know. Have some other news, however. Lord Crestly and his crew were good to their word and have all left to head back to their own estates. My uncle had several requests for copies of the map which showed the lands the Regent has acquired, the one he showed at the meeting. Uncle has a feeling that that map will be copied again and again and will soon find its way into the hands of other large landholders. Hopefully it might slow the Regent’s acquisition plans down a little. When the guests started leaving for home, we heard much talk of a meeting being demanded with the Regent, and not just by those who were loyal to the old Queen,” said Beezle. “The rumblings in Sommerhjem have taken a new direction.”

  I knew my time of talking with Beezle was going to be short, because the traffic on our lane of the fair was picking up again, so I quickly asked the first of the two questions I had on my mind. “What was your uncle’s reaction to the news that his head steward was less than loyal?”

  “My uncle is a very shrewd man and already had some suspicions that Gowon was less than pleased with Uncle becoming Lord of Glendalen Keep. He was still very saddened that Gowon would not so much betray him but would think so little of him that he would back the Regent in hopes that someone of ‘higher breeding’ might gain the keep, should Uncle somehow be ousted by the Regent.”

  “What is Lord Hadrack going to do about Gowon?” I inquired.

  A rather mischievous smile came upon Beezle’s face when he told me about the discussions his uncle and his aunt were having when the steward was within ear shot, ones that were purposely supplying Gowon with misinformation. Also, it would seem that the steward was going to be kept very busy doing the annual inventory, both at the keep and on the other holdings that Lord Hadrack held. Poor Gowon hopefully would not have much time to plot and plan against Beezle’s uncle, with the exception of the times they wanted him to plot and plan, and with the information they wanted him to have. Beezle’s uncle was going to make sure Gowon attended the meeting in Crestbury.

  I did not get the chance to ask Beezle my second question, for the bells rang the first hour after noon, and Beezle jumped up quickly, knocking over the stool he had been sitting on. He apologized for leaving so abruptly. He told me if he did not get over to the animal auctions on time, his uncle would probably auction him off. He then vaulted over my countertop, waved over his shoulder, and said he would try to catch me before I left Glendalen. I had wanted to ask him what his plans were for after the ending of the fair. So much was going to change when this fair ended. The Jalcones were not going on to Crestbury. They had come across a great opportunity to do some trading closer to the coast and were heading there. They would perhaps catch back up with me several fairs down the road, and for sure would be at the fair at the capitol. Oscar and Bertram were going to skip the Crestbury fair for they had other stops to make in smaller villages to the east. That just left Master Clarisse, Evan, and I traveling on to Crestbury, and it was a fair I was determined not to miss, since Da had said he would find me there.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The night before the fair closed was a difficult one, knowing that those I had traveled and camped with for the last fortnight would be going in different directions in the morning. I had grown fond of the Jalcones and would miss Trader Jalcones’ steadying presence and Mistress Jalcones’ cooking and warmth. I would miss both the rover families, for there is great solace to be found in the company of those of like custom.

  Take Neebings for instance. Oscar, Bertram, and their families put out gifts for the Neebings each night as did I. While we did not talk about whether the gifts were picked up or traded, for that would have been a breach of rover etiquette, they would never laugh at me or suggest I was foolish to do so. The Glendalen fairgrounds did not appear to be a place Neebings frequented. Each morning before opening my booth I had checked the Neebing room, but the gift I had left was still there. I could understand why Neebings might not like the open fields and the crowds of the fair, but for some unexplainable reason I felt a bit adrift, and somewhat less, oh I do not know, secure maybe. I know that sounds a bit foolish coming from someone who is still not quite convinced Neebings are real. At least my head is not convinced, but I think my heart wants them to exist.

  By just an hour after sunrise, the wagons were closed up and battened down for the road, the carts were hooked up, and the horses hitched. Goodbyes and hugs had been given all around, and there were no more excuses for delay. I had hoped Beezle would come by to see us off, but as the wagons began to roll out of the fairgrounds, he still had not appeared. I was surprised at how disappointed I was that he had not shown up, but then shook off the mood as foolishness. I was sure he had important tasks to do for his uncle now that he was back at Glendalen Keep.

  Carz jumped through the door of the homewagon onto the seat beside me as we passed through the last gate and onto the royal road heading towards Crestbury. The journey would be an easy one, for Crestbury was only a day and a half ride from Glendalen. The road traveled through the broad valley both towns occupied. While grateful for Carz’ company next to me, once again I was traveling with a non-conversationalist. The travel was slow but steady, with a great many wagons, horses, and walkers on the road, all traveling either home from the Glendalen fair or traveling on to the Crestbury fair. I hoped the day’s journey would go smoothly, and there would be no roadblocks to contend with. I was glad that Master Clarisse and Evan were in the wagon ahead of me.

  Once again, upon arriving at the Crestbury fairgrounds, I had the great good fortune to have my booth assigned a spot next to Master Clarisse’s booth. I soon fell into the routine of working to keep my stock up, waiting on customers, watching Master Clarisse’s booth when she and Evan took some time off, and also watching the crowds closely for Da. The daytime went by swiftly, but I did not look forward to the blowing of the end of the fair day horn, for I found I missed my companions from the road more than I thought I would. Our campfire that first night seemed empty with only Master Clarisse, Evan, and I. I did not realize how comfortable I had become with, or how comforting it was to have, the Jalcones and the two rover families close by. I found myself especially missing Beezle.

  On the second day of the fair, I was surprised when I looked up and saw Master Rollag at Master Clarisse’s booth. He called a greeting over to me and then asked Master Clarisse if she had seen Journeyman Mikkel.

  “I had expected that he might have arrived before me, but I know he can get distracted by the smallest of things. His new driver probably has lost one or more days just redirecting him back to the wagon after each stop,” Master Rollag said with a chuckle in his voice. “If anyone ever needed a keeper, it’s that lad. There is no denying that he is brilliantly creative, and none can surpass him in the art of installing large glass pieces. It just amazes me he can be so focused when working on a piece and so unfocused the rest of the time.”

  “He has a new driver?” Maste
r Clarisse inquired.

  “Fellow by the name of Jonzee Smed. I was lucky to find him,” stated Master Rollag. “Chanced upon him at the Tverdal fair. Knew him from a time long ago. Seems he has fallen on hard times and is working as a day laborer. Good man with horses.”

  “Was that not a bit chancy?” asked Master Clarisse. “Day laborers are not generally known for longevity at jobs. Were you not concerned he might leave our journeyman in the lurch and wander off if a better job presented itself?”

  “It is true that some day laborers move from job to job more frequently than some folks change their socks. Others are just drifters following the wind, seeking what they think might be a better job just over the next horizon with a hope of better work or better pay. There are a lot more folks seeking work this summer, no thanks to our Regent. Higher taxes have forced folks off their lands or forced them to send their oldest sons and daughters to try to find work. The hope for those forced to leave their homes is that they will be able to return with some coin. At least while they are gone, there will be fewer mouths to feed. Such a contrast to the frivolity of the fairs, don’t you think? But I haven’t really answered your question. With jobs being pretty dear, Jonzee Smed looked quite relieved to have steady employment. And as I said, I know him from a time long ago and know him to be a good man,” stated Master Rollag. “I had best get back. I am staying at Master Bircholm’s house in town. If you see Journeyman Mikkel and his driver, direct them there if you would.”