by B. K. Parent
Setting up our campsites and booths was delayed as we greeted and caught up on the news with the Jalcones and with Oscar and Bertram and their families. It felt good to be surrounded by friendly faces, and the evening passed in laughing camaraderie. For several hours, my cares and worries fell away. Bertram brought out his fiddle, and Beezle dared to bring out his wooden whistle. One of Oscar’s children played a small flat drum, and the lively tunes they played lifted my spirits and set all of our toes to tapping. The cook fire burned down to glowing embers, and the sky was crowded with stars. Oh, how I wished that this was just a typical evening among friends who traveled the summer fair route together. All too soon the night bell rang, signaling that quiet hours in the campground were to start and reminding us that it was time for sleep. As I closed the door to my homewagon, after having said good night to my friends, I was struck with the thought that I had not asked Beezle if he still had the object I had slipped him at the Inn of the Three Hares, and he had not mentioned it. I promised myself that tomorrow I would do two things. First and foremost, I would try to find a time to talk to Beezle privately, and second, I would finally get around to finding out what was in the book the Huntress had given me.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Thorval thought seriously of pulling his hair out. Once again he needed to corral Journeyman Mikkel and get him to come back to the wagon so that they could get on the road again. If this kept up, Thorval felt he was going to be a bald, blithering idiot by the time they reached Snoddleton. Now that would be a good disguise, he thought. He had changed names and looks so frequently since he had left home that it was a wonder that he even knew who he was anymore, other than a very frustrated wagon driver named Jonzee Smed.
“Journeyman Mikkel, now would be a good time to get back on the wagon so we can get to Snoddleton before the fair is over,” Thorval said, with a large hint of frustration in his voice.
“Just a few more minutes, if you please. There is this marvelous arrangement of moss and weathered tree root here that I just must sketch, and then near it is a perfect ring of mushrooms that would make a divine small stained glass window that I also need to sketch,” said Journeyman Mikkel, hardly glancing Thorval’s way and continuing on with his drawing.
“If we don’t get to the Hall of Masters this day, your windows will be stuck in a far back corner away from the light where no one will be able to see their stunning translucent beauty. Other artists will claim the best spots because they got there before we did,” Thorval countered, not above playing on Journeyman Mikkel’s vanity concerning his own work.
“Oh my, the far back corner? Do you really think they would not hold a spot with fine sunlight near the front for my windows?” Journeyman Mikkel asked worriedly, gathering his things in haste and walking quickly back to the wagon.
“We won’t need to find out, if we can continue our journey with a minimum of delays. I will ask the horses to go just a bit faster to make up the time we lost, and we will travel later this night. You, however, need to try not to wander off. Can you do that?” asked Thorval.
The young journeyman sat up straighter on the wagon seat, and squared his shoulders as if he were about to face a grim opponent, and said he could. Thorval flicked the reins and started the horses once again moving towards Snoddleton. He was certainly glad to be out of Crestbury, but he had been very reluctant to leave. His daughter was fine after their night’s adventure, which had come as a great relief when he had gotten the news, but he so wished he had been able to see her himself. When, he wondered, would they ever have a few moments to just be together and talk? There was so much he wanted to say to her, yet years of keeping secrets had him debating if now was the time. At least he now knew that she was not alone or unprotected. This morning’s conversation with Master Rollag had been a revelation.
Once he had returned to Master Bircholm’s house, where he was staying in quarters above the stable, Thorval had washed once again all over in cold water with harsh soap. With all that had happened from the time he and Arial had left the Inn of the Three Hares, Thorval was both numb with worry and fatigue, but nothing had prepared him for the conversation that followed upon entering his sleeping quarters. As he opened the door, he was still debating the wisdom of staying in town until morning and then trying to go find Arial. Those thoughts abruptly vanished when he saw Master Rollag sitting patiently on the foot of his bed.
“I apologize for entering your sleeping quarters without your permission, but I need to talk to you,” Master Rollag had said very quietly, without preamble. “I know how hard it must be to be here and not back out in the forest looking for Arial, your daughter.”
Thorval had immediately gone into a defensive stance and was reaching for his belt knife, all the while thinking what little use it would be against a man who stood a head taller than he did and outweighed him by a great deal, but he would try in order to save both himself and his daughter.
“Hold, Jonzee Smed,” Master Rollag had said, never moving from the bed, and had calmly held out both of his hands to indicate he did not have a weapon in them. “We are on the same side, you and I. I am just as worried about the young woman I know as Nissa as you are, but our fighting each other is not going to find her any faster or keep her and her identity safe. Put that knife away and talk to me. I can help.”
Thorval had been on the run for so long, he did not know whether to just run back down the steps and try to get away, or to try to trust someone. Knowing he would not be able to leave Crestbury until he knew what had happened to his daughter, he moved closer to the door but chose to stay.
“You might want to close the door after you check outside to see if anyone is in hearing distance while I close the window. The conversation we are about to have is one I do not want anyone to hear,” advised Master Rollag.
Thorval did as asked but felt more than a little trapped, torn once again between escape, the promised help for his daughter, and trying not to give himself away, in case this was a fishing expedition on Master Rollag’s part.
“Good. I think we are fairly safe here and able to talk without being overheard. I know you have no reason to trust me, and it’s obvious that you don’t remember me. I was a scrawny street rat the last time you saw me. Hadn’t obtained my full growth, so it is no wonder, but I never will forget the rover who saved me in a back alley of the capitol. Kept track of you over the years. Your disguise was a good one when I saw you at the Tverdal fair. I don’t think anyone else might have recognized you, but I saw the look of longing in your eyes when you looked toward Nissa’s booth, and then it all fell into place. I had wondered why she looked so familiar but hadn’t been able to place her. She has the look of your wife. I was sorry to hear of her passing. She was kind to me,” stated Master Rollag.
Thorval had to take a minute to think back, and then he took a second, and then a third, look at the huge man sitting calmly on the foot of his bed. It could not be, could it?
“Mine is a late growing family. We seem to be pretty small and scrawny until we hit our twenties, and then we just sprout up overnight. It’s no wonder you didn’t recognize me, and it was a long time ago,” continued Master Rollag.
“Sprout up would be an understatement,” laughed Thorval, as he began to believe what he was hearing and seeing. “It would seem you have managed to make something of yourself these last many years. I had wondered why you were so willing to give me, a stranger, a day laborer, a job without references or very much inquiry into who I was, but the livery and the transportation that allowed me to pass almost unnoticed from town to town were too good to pass up.”
“Was glad to be able to help. I figured out that if the Regent was looking for you as hard as he is, that you must represent some type of threat to him, and as such, it was worth my getting involved. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, there are many of us still very loyal to the Crown and not at all happy with what’s hap
pening in Sommerhjem, but we’ve needed to be very discrete with both information gathering and action. Our biggest worry at the moment is the safety of the Princess. She may not be the leader we will need in the times ahead, but she is a symbol of what is good about Sommerhjem, and the legacy of peace left by her mother needs to be continued. Sommerhjem has been stable for a lot of years, and the Regent has set in motion a number of plans which could split it apart. The ensuing chaos could set us back a hundred years. While our borders are peaceful now, they might not remain so,” Master Rollag said grimly. “I do not know why you are so important to the Regent, and I do not want to know. What I do know is that I owe you a debt that I will never be able to repay. I think it is time to join forces.”
Thorval remained silent for a very long time before he spoke. “All those years ago in that alley, I made an instinctive judgment that you were a lad of worth, and I think you have become a man of honor now. Whatever debt you think you have owed me was cancelled the day you hired me at the Tverdal fair. You are right, the young woman you call Nissa is my daughter, and I fear I have sent her on a journey that became much too perilous last night. I fear for her. Even now, I’m torn between doing something foolish and rushing back out to find her, and being patient and following my first instinct, which was to come to you for help.”
“You are safer here being Jonzee Smed and a driver for the Glassmakers Guild. It would not do for you to be caught now. It may be your only way to continue on towards the capitol and to make a connection with Nissa, which I know you want. I am sorry you did not have more time with her last night, but that is all water under the bridge at this point. She has gathered a nice group of folks around her, and it is through them we will learn her fate with the opening of the fair this morning. Here is what I have in mind,” said Master Rollag.
Master Rollag proceeded to outline how he intended to get information about Nissa, and to get information back to Nissa, if she were at her booth at the fair. If she were not at her booth when the fair opened in the morning, he had a second plan to put in place. Thorval and Master Rollag talked for awhile longer, and then Master Rollag slipped out of Thorval’s room, leaving Thorval to think through all they had talked about.
Thorval had not thought he would be able to sleep, and yet he knew the rest of the day was going to be a long one, so he attempted to catch a nap before it was time to begin his duties as a driver for the Glassmakers Guild. Later, Master Rollag found him in the stables cleaning the horses’ hooves and checking their tack in anticipation of leaving Crestbury.
“Why don’t you stop work for a little bit? Cook just pulled a tray of sweet buns out of the oven, and if you don’t come now, Evan will have consumed all of them, and nothing will be left for the rest of us,” Master Rollag said with a wink.
It was all Thorval could do to not blurt out and ask if Arial was alright, and so he followed Master Rollag out of the stable, across the flagstone courtyard, and to the back door to the kitchen. Before he was even halfway there, his mouth began to water from the smell of the sweet buns. As he entered the kitchen, he heard Master Rollag admonish Evan to slow down a bit and let some others have a chance at the sweets. Evan gave him a baleful look, but after swiping two more buns, he stepped back from the counter the tray was cooling on.
Around a mouthful of sweet bun, Evan grinned, and setting his sweet buns down out of Master Rollag’s reach, gently took a cloth-wrapped package off the counter and handed it to Master Rollag. Swallowing, Evan said, “Both Nissa and Master Clarisse picked this out for your niece. They both agreed it was the prettiest one, and I was careful getting it here.” Evan then picked up the sweet bun from the counter and took another bite.
Thorval did his best to busy himself with his choice of just which sweet bun he wanted to eat first and tried to school his facial expression to one of delight over the sweet treat rather than showing the deep relief he felt knowing that Arial was safe. Master Rollag suggested that they grab the tray of sweet buns and take them out to the courtyard, so cook could have her kitchen back. Cook had sent them an indulgent smile as she stuck another tray in the brick bake oven. Thorval felt like a young lad again, getting away with a treat. Just before the three of them were to leave the kitchen, Master Rollag was hailed from the kitchen door and informed he was needed at the front of the house. He asked that Thorval and Evan wait for him and save him a few of the sweet buns. Once outside sitting on the edge of the well with the early morning sun warming their backs, Thorval and Evan divided the remaining buns up between them and hoped Master Rollag would be delayed.
“How are the new horses working out?” Evan asked, once he swallowed a mouthful of pastry.
“Ah, you were right about them. Very gentle in demeanor and very strong at pulling. A fine matched pair. You did well picking them out. Someday I wouldn’t mind owning a pair like that, should I ever get my own wagon,” Thorval replied, hastily reminding himself he needed to stay in character.
For the next few minutes, the two chatted companionably, and when the sweet buns had all been consumed, drew a bucket of water up from the well to wash the stickiness off of their hands. Master Rollag came out the back door just as they were both wiping their hands dry on their pants and gave them a stern look upon discovering that all of the sweet buns were gone. He had then dispatched Evan to return to the fair and instructed Thorval to hitch up the team and prepare to get on the road. They had both decided that the sooner Thorval was out of Crestbury the better and had only delayed his departure until he had word about his daughter. One of Master Rollag’s informants had been at the front door just now with word that the hunt for the silk merchant, his niece, and the flute player was still in progress. It was not an overt hunt, but it was a hunt, and a reward had been offered for any news. Thorval and Master Rollag agreed that searchers looking for two of Thorval’s identities doubled his chances of being found in Crestbury, and it was best to leave as soon as possible now that he knew Nissa was safe.
Getting out of Crestbury had gone without a hitch, but getting to Snoddleton was more difficult with Journeyman Mikkel as a passenger. Herding a dozen house cats would be easier than getting one journeyman glassmaker to stay put anytime they stopped. The only advantage of traveling until dusk was that then Journeyman Mikkel would have no light by which to see something he just had to draw. Journeyman Mikkel really was not a bad sort, Thorval mused as the horses pulled the wagon down the road at a steady pace. He just did not seem to recognize that other folks had plans and needs that were different from his own.
The steady clip clop of the horses’ hooves and the gentle swaying of the wagon had a lulling effect on Journeyman Mikkel, and when Thorval glanced over, he noticed the young man’s head was bobbing gently against his chest. Thorval was grateful for the break and began to organize in his head what he had learned from Master Rollag and what might need to be done once he arrived in Snoddleton.
Chapter Forty
I had the rare opportunity to linger over breakfast tea this morning, and I was going to take it, even though I knew that there were countless chores and tasks I should be doing. By arriving early to the Snoddleton Fair, we all had a day off. Maybe I should rephrase that. We had a day off from being in our booths, but when on the road there is never a real day off. Horses still have to be cared for, chores still have to be done, and clean laundry would be nice. I, however, had put two tasks at the top of my list for this day, and I would get to them once I had a second cup of tea. My stomach was full of Mistress Jalcones’ griddle cakes spread thick with honey. Mistress Jalcones had agreed to once again do the cooking for our group, if we all pitched in with either coin or supplies. Said she was really tired of only cooking for two, and we had all agreed to her plan without argument.
My first order of business this day was to get Beezle to sit down with me so I could finally ask him about the object I had slipped to him at the Inn of the Three Hares. Just as I was think
ing about him, he dropped down beside me, snatched my tea cup out of my hands, and drank the remaining tea down.
“Hey, now you’ve done it. Ruined a perfectly good stall from getting up and getting on with the day. For that, you have volunteered to groom the horses with me and make sure they are fed and watered,” I told him.
“Whoa, that is a pretty steep price for just half a cup of tea,” Beezle replied.
“It’s not the cup of tea that is costing you, it’s the time I could have continued to sit here goofing off that you must pay for,” I retorted.
In a much quieter voice, I then told him that, besides, I really needed to talk to him in private. Taking back my tea cup, I rinsed it out, and we strolled through the rapidly filling up fairgrounds towards the pasture where the horses were grazing. Once there and busy with grooming the horses back to back, I felt it was safe enough to talk to Beezle without being heard by others.
“Do you remember when I gave you coins for your flute playing at the Inn of the Three Hares?”
“I do. I was a bit surprised that you would call attention to yourself in that manner. It would have been more appropriate for your ‘uncle’ to have put some coin in my hat rather than an unattached single young woman of a certain class and breeding,” suggested Beezle.
“I’m aware of that, but I had a reason for doing what I did. Did you ever look at what I gave you?”
“Come to think of it, no. You put the coins in my hat, and I had to leave the Inn so quickly, I just stuffed the hat into my bag and exited up to the roof. Once I got to where my aunt was staying things became a jumble, to say the least, and then I guess I never thought of it after. Why?” questioned Beezle.