Journey's Middle

by B. K. Parent

  Master Rollag stopped by my booth briefly to exchange a hello and to inquire about the day and the sales before he strode off. The day moved swiftly after that for the most part, and those times that did drag were made easier due to a young man playing the pipes. He had set up a stool and a basket for coin near us.

  That evening Master Clarisse, Evan, and I wandered into town to have a warm meal that we did not have to cook and chanced upon the Inn of the Three Hares. It soon became apparent that we would stand out among the normal patrons, for the Inn catered to those far more affluent than the three of us. That pretty much dashed any plans we might have had to eavesdrop in on the conversation that was supposed to take place there the next day. We could only hope Lord Hadrack had some plan.

  Unlike the Glendalen fair, where we camped within the confines of the fairgrounds, here we had been assigned spots opposite the fairgrounds across a wide meadow, on the edge of Crestbury forest. While the homewagon was shaded during the day, which kept it cool should Carz wish to stay there, the site was a less welcoming place at night once you left the warmth and companionship of our shared fire. There was something about the forest which made me not want to go wandering in it after dark.

  Feeling more alone than I had since the beginning of this journey, I pulled Carz close that night, and he, with great tolerance, let me. I had put out a gift for the Neebings and had an almost irrational need for one to come this night and take it. It was with that wish in mind I drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning dawned grey and foggy with a light mist falling, but it was less gloomy than might be expected, for I had found a beautiful polished stone on the floor of the Neebing room. While there were other rover families camping along the edge of the forest also, they were not close by. I did not know them, so my ambivalence concerning Neebings swung more towards them being real this morning. I tucked the polished stone in my pocket and headed into the fair. I had just opened my booth when Master Rollag showed up with another man dressed in Glassmakers Guild livery. He motioned to Evan to come over to my booth and asked me if he could have a few minutes of my time. I was comfortable leaving Evan to watch over my booth and stepped behind it to talk to Master Rollag.

  “Nissa, I would like you to meet Jonzee Smed, one of our drivers,” stated Master Rollag, “and I have a boon to ask.”

  “What is it you need?” I inquired.

  “I need you to go to dinner with my driver here,” Master Rollag answered.

  At that point I took a really good look at Jonzee Smed, and it was a shock, to say the least, to see my Da standing before me. It was all I could do to school my expression to that of polite interest rather than throwing myself into Da’s arms. Even with the beard and his hair cut shorter than I had ever seen it, even though he had lost considerable weight, I would have recognized him anywhere. Gathering my wits about me, I asked Master Rollag why he wanted me to go to dinner with one of his drivers.

  “I need an unknown face to have a late dinner at the Inn of the Three Hares,” he answered.

  “Master Clarisse, Evan, and I went by the Inn last night, and it is not a place that would welcome tradesfolk. We would be very noticeable, and many would remember us.”

  I am surprised my heart did not beat right out of my chest at that moment. Da did not need to be placed in a situation where he would be even more in danger, but I did not feel I could explain that to Master Rollag without revealing just who his driver really was.

  Master Rollag then explained he had a plan. I would be contacted sometime this day by a gentleman who would admire my little whimsies and ask me to come to his address in midtown Crestbury to look at a potential restoration job I could do when the fair season was over. When I arrived at his home, I was to go to the service entrance, would be met there, and as Master Rollag said, “would be transformed into a young woman of means who would not attract the type of attention a rover lass might at the Inn of the Three Hares.”

  I figured they would have about as much chance of transforming me into “a young woman of means” as I would have of convincing someone that the knotty pine box they were holding was made out of exotic kanaberry wood.

  The hours between talking to Master Rollag and the end of the fair day had times when they went too fast, and others when they dragged. A well-dressed merchant stopped by my booth mid-afternoon to “arrange” my coming that night to look at some woodcarvings in need of repair and gave me directions to his house. At the end of the fair day, I asked Master Clarisse and Evan to make sure Carz was alright and had dinner. Finally, it was time to leave for my appointment. Soon, I fervently hoped, I would once again be in my Da’s company.

  I was met at the service door by the gentleman who had come to the fair that afternoon. I was actually relieved to be greeted by him rather than a servant, for the fewer folks who knew my visit was a ruse, the better. I was asked to follow him into the formal dining room, and for the next ten minutes we discussed my returning after the fair season was over and repairing the broken woodcarvings on his sideboard. An unfortunate accident caused by some spontaneous horseplay between two of his grandsons.

  “Their grandmother is always telling them that if they are going to roughhouse they should take it outside, but they don’t always listen,” he had said.

  It was almost an unreal moment. On the one hand I was having a normal conversation about a commission I should have been thrilled to get. On the other hand Da and I were about to be sent off to spy on some of the nobles who both supported the Regent and were anxious to get their hands on Da. I was then escorted to the cook’s room off the kitchen, and by this time, I was only mildly surprised to see Lady Hadrack sitting quietly in the cook’s rocker looking through some papers.

  “I am so glad you have come,” she said. “I am glad to finally have a chance to meet you. I have heard so much about you from Beezle.”

  When Lady Hadrack noticed what might have been a slightly shocked or fearful look on my face, she quickly reassured me by saying laughingly, “Oh, it was all good, and he only talked about you and your other friends to me when we were in places where we could not be overheard by others. That lad is, if nothing else, discreet.” Before I could even begin to respond, she went on. “We had best get going, so you can make your dinner reservations on time. Go behind the changing screen, for you need to get into the dress hanging there. While you are dressing, you need to listen carefully so you will have your story about who you are this night clearly in your mind should anyone inquire. Your name for the next few hours is Patrice O’Gallen, and you are visiting the fair with your uncle, Alfonzo McKennen. He is a silk merchant from the far south coastal town of Saleen. You are here checking out new markets and beginning your education in the silk trade. You are new to the silk trade and need to earn a living because your parents were recently killed in a tragic accident. Your uncle has kindly taken you in. If you get uncomfortable with any questions, just look sad and miserable, and perhaps the questioner will take pity on you. Now if you are dressed, get yourself from behind that screen, so we can do something about your hair.”

  Quite frankly I would have liked to do something about the dress. How do women even function in these garments? Once I had drawn in the laces so the dress fit properly, it was hard to breathe, and the yards of material in the skirt were certainly going to make it hard to sit. This teal colored dress, which I suspected was made of silk, was certainly not designed with any practical use in mind, except to cover the body. I was grateful that it had a very high neck line, so I did not have to remove the golden pine spider silk pouch and try to hide it somewhere. I felt odd being in the fancy dress, for there had not been many occasions in my life that had called for me to wear a formal dress. None, if truth be told. The material it was made out of, however, was soft and luxurious, and if it were not so impractical, I would not have minded a shirt made out of it. My opinion of the garment, minus my opinion o
f the silk material, must have shown on my face when I stepped out from behind the changing screen.

  When Lady Hadrack looked me over wearing a gentlewoman’s gown and my rover boots, I am sure it was almost more than she could do not to burst out laughing. She refrained and merely handed me a pair of walking slippers, which were only slightly too big. Amidst her amusement, Lady Hadrack also conveyed a sense of urgency, so I took the chair she indicated and wondered what she thought she could do with my hair. It was neither of fashionable length nor color. With quick, deft motions, Lady Hadrack had my hair up and placed a very blond wig on my head. She then spent several minutes using makeup on my face, an experience I am not anxious to repeat. While she completed my disguise, she gave me very detailed descriptions of who might be at the meeting. When I stood up, she turned me to look in the full length mirror. I did not recognize the young woman staring back at me, which was somewhat of a relief, for if I did not recognize myself perhaps no one else would.

  I was escorted to the front parlor where I was introduced to my “uncle.” If I had not known the man standing before me all of my life, I certainly would not have accepted that the dapper white-haired gentleman, who drew me close and kissed my cheek, was my Da.

  “Hello niece. How lovely you look this night,” he said. “Are you hungry? Our host here has recommended the Inn of the Three Hares as a fine place to eat.”

  And with that said, Da picked up his hat and cane, took my arm, and we headed out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Despite the odd circumstances that had finally brought Da and I together, I could hardly contain myself or the broad smile on my face. I had so many questions I wanted to ask as we walked down the surprisingly busy lane, heading towards the Inn of the Three Hares.

  Just as I was about to speak, Da leaned in close and said very quietly, “You need to tone down your smile and act the part of my orphaned niece. We could be being watched. Hopefully we can talk more later.”

  That statement certainly had a sobering effect on me, and I gulped down the lump that had just lodged itself in my throat. Da was right, of course, and in my relief and joy of seeing him again, I had forgotten the role I was playing. I really wanted at that moment to glance around swiftly and make sure no one had been watching us, but I did not, since that would only make me look as out of place as I felt. Just thinking about all the consequences of not being convincing in my role as Da’s niece, or looking too out of character, was making my head hurt. I do not think I am cut out for this spy business.

  “Niece, are you not listening?” Da asked in a stern voice, jerking me out of my reverie.

  “I’m sorry.” Here I had to pause to wrap my mind around the idea I should call Da “uncle” and to stop my mouth, which had a mind of its own, from forming a “d” sound. “You are most correct, I was not listening. Wool gathering, I guess, or distracted by hunger. You were saying?”

  “As you know, the Inn of the Three Hares is a very fine eating establishment, and we do not want to embarrass ourselves or be considered inept southern country bumpkins by using the wrong fork or spoon. You will need to be observant as to what others do. Also, follow my lead,” said Da.

  I now felt even more unprepared. I was probably in truth an inept northern country bumpkin now trying not to look like an inept southern country bumpkin. I felt somewhat nervous, and yet it dawned on me that Da telling me to follow his lead may have had a double meaning. Then I started thinking about double meanings. While we were in the Inn of the Three Hares, maybe it would be possible to talk to Da on two levels and be able to exchange some information. With that thought in mind giving me some cheer, Da and I walked along in comfortable silence. As we approached the Inn, I began to question if I could be successful at this masquerade and not put Da or myself at risk. Da must have sensed my inner turmoil because at that moment he patted my hand that was resting on his arm. In a quiet voice he told me I was going to do fine.

  The Inn of the Three Hares was very plain on the outside, but the interior was a very different story. What struck me first was the quiet. Most of the places I had eaten in while on the road were either pubs or small family-run eateries that ranged from either homey to rowdy places. Never had I been in a place where there was the quiet murmur of conversations blending in with the soft sounds of a mountain flute. We were met at the door by a finely dressed woman, who Da later explained was our hostess, and were led towards a table near the kitchen doors. Da had a quiet conversation with our hostess, and I saw some coin exchange hands. Our hostess then turned left, leading us through an archway to a smaller section off the main room. We were seated at a table for two, which was covered with fine linen, cut crystal wine glasses, and fine silver silverware. There were no others in this area with us, and we had a clear view of the main room.

  Da pulled out the chair for me, and I attempted to sit gracefully, which was certainly a challenge in the dress I was wearing. Once he was seated, I watched as he pulled the cloth napkin from the silver ring and with a flourish placed it on his lap. I followed suit, but with far less flourish. At that point, I had a chance to really take a look at the table setting and was appalled to see that there were several knives, two spoons, and four forks. A lot of meals I ate on the road while camping out only take a spoon or a fork and my boot knife, but I did not think that was going to work here.

  I think Da must have been reading my mind, for he said “Well, niece, it is good that we are back in civilization and can sit down to a meal at a proper table, which has been sorely lacking at some of the roadside inns we have stayed at on this journey.”

  Hopefully the dim lighting by our table made it difficult for other patrons to see the mischievous twinkle in Da’s eyes. I certainly hoped Da knew how to order food in this fancy place, and his talk about sitting down at a proper table was not just blowing smoke, or we would be bounced out of here as the pretenders we were in very short time. I should not have worried, for when the server arrived at our table, Da quickly suggested that the server choose what he felt was the best of the menu the cook was preparing this night. The man seemed to puff up with importance and scurried off to do Da’s bidding.

  While the server had been talking with Da, the hostess had escorted several more folks into our area. I had worried that we would have gone through all of the trouble of disguising ourselves and then find ourselves seated too far from our quarry to hear anything useful. Luck was on our side for several of the very folk we had come to “spy” on were being seated near us. At least I hoped they were the ones. They seemed to match the descriptions I had been given. Hopefully the others we sought would also be seated at their table. When I thought about how lucky we were, I realized that this area was a logical one for them to seek. Perhaps it was not luck after all but rather smart thinking on my Da’s part. As I reflected back on how Da had known that a bit of coin slipped to the hostess would get us a different table, and how comfortable he was working with the server concerning the dinner menu, I found myself having to readjust my thinking about just who my Da was. There was certainly more to him than the simple rover and blacksmith I thought I knew.

  I was once again pulled out of my reverie by Da. “Well, Patrice, this is the first time in days that we have had an opportunity to just sit and talk about your journey so far. I am interested in your observations.”

  I wondered how many names I would have to get used to before this adventure ended. It took a moment to figure out Da was asking about what had happened to me since I had left home. I was interrupted from answering for our server set in front of me a clear soup that smelled delicious, and my stomach reminded me that it had been a long time since noon. I watched carefully to note which spoon Da picked up and then tasted a small spoonful of the soup. Never had I tasted anything like it. For a liquid that looked very much like water, it was full of flavors, some of which I could not name.

  Da was looking at m
e expectantly, and I realized I had not answered his question. I tried to tell him as much as I could without saying anything out of character. “Since my parents died, it certainly has been an adventure traveling away from home and all that was familiar.” I hoped he would translate that to mean the journey so far, since he disappeared, had been less than dull. “I’ve met some good, kind, and interesting folks who I never would have met had I stayed in Saleen. I’ve met a few I would not like to meet again.” Like the ones who kidnapped me.

  Our conversation was interrupted once again by the server placing, with brisk efficiency, warm and fragrant rolls and fresh butter on the table and stating he would be right back with our first course. It was then that I noticed that several more of the folk who had been in the tower meeting at Glendalen Keep had arrived, including much to my surprise Gowon, whose voice I recognized. There were now five folks seated at the table near us.

  Da must have seen the look on my face, for he quickly asked, “Is not the soup to your liking, Patrice?”

  “Oh no Uncle, it is quite wonderful,” I gushed, or at least I tried to gush. I am not certain how successful I was since I do not recall ever gushing before. I may not ever again. “I was just surprised.” Now how was I going to let him know that who was being seated at the other table was what had startled me?

  “Surprised?”

  “Ah, why yes. I was surprised by the, um, last flavor I just identified. I hadn’t expected it to be, ah, in the soup,” I answered. I think Da understood what I was trying to say for he had a knowing look on his face. At least, I hoped we were not talking about the soup.