Journey's Middle

by B. K. Parent

  “You remember when Farmer Miles Deaver and I were upset that the Princess was not going to be at the Glendalen fair because our cheese would not be judged by her, and so we could not win the Princess’ choice for best of a type of cheese? Winning that Princess’ seal of approval means a great deal, can certainly increase both your pride in what you have made, and also increase your ability to sell your product. There are many folks who are snobbish enough to want only ‘the best’ of a particular item and will pay for the privilege,” said Beezle.

  “Why would the group that was plotting at the Inn of the Three Hares have the Princess’ seal?” I asked.

  “An excellent question,” answered Master Clarisse, “which is worrisome on a number of fronts. Do they have the real seal, or is this a copy, and what do either of those possibilities suggest? If it is the real seal, then what does that mean concerning the health and well being of the Princess? If it is a copy, then how do they intend to use it? I can think of all sorts of twists and turns that could be plotted out if an individual or a group possessed the royal seal.”

  “But isn’t the Princess’ seal only good for as long as she remains alive, so it would be in their best interest to make sure the Princess stays that way. From what I overheard at the Inn of the Three Hares, the Princess’ life did not seem all that secure,” I mentioned.

  “That is true, but it would also be a way of fooling folks that the Princess was alive, but, oh, let’s say, traveling, or in some other part of Sommerhjem, or . . .,” Master Clarisse started saying but was interrupted by Beezle.

  “. . . staying at the royal hunting lodge in the Blackhammer Mountains or, well you get the idea,” said Beezle, after receiving a somewhat irritated look from Master Clarisse. “Sorry for interrupting, Master Clarisse. My apologies.”

  “Apology accepted. I was also going to say they could use the seal in a variety of other ways in the name of the Princess, which I am not sure I even want to think about. I think we need to get this information to Master Rollag as soon as possible. Do you have someplace safe you can keep the seal until tomorrow when we go to the Hall of Masters?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  I was not going to tell them where, for there are a few secrets about rover homewagons that are only known in general to other rovers, and only specifically to the owner of a particular rover homewagon. Only Da and I knew where I would put the seal that others, even with a lot of time and careful looking, would not be able to find it.

  “We had best get going, don’t you think Beezle? The fair starts tomorrow, and we will need to get up early. Come on and let Nissa get some sleep, if she can,” proposed Master Clarisse.

  After they left, I tried to settle down and go to sleep, but my mind just kept going on journey after journey of possibilities, so it was quite late before I slipped into the sleep of the exhausted. Morning came much too early, and it was hard to get into the routine of a day at the fair. I got to the booth and set up my wares. Nana’s herbs were all set out in their display. As the fair towns got bigger, fewer and fewer of Nana’s herbs and medicines sold. I think because in the big towns, there were more sources for herbs than in the smaller towns and villages. I mostly made sales of the rarer plants specific to our north coastal region and our sea-misted hills. It was typically other herbalists who bought from me now. I did not mind so much, for I had enough to do trying to keep my stock up on my own products and be the main seller for my booth. I could see why this worked so much better if you had two or more folks running a booth. Oscar had other family members as did Bertram. Master Clarisse had Evan. I wished Da were with me.

  For some reason, I just did not feel like working on the carvings on the sides and top of the chest I had started yesterday, and so I found a smaller piece of wood and set about laying out one of the Huntress’ designs to make a small plaque. I was glad I started small for the designs were more intricate than at first glance. I got so involved in the carving that it was hard to pull myself away to wait on potential customers. Shyla came by midmorning and I took the time to help her finish her box. Her father had given her a small bit of coin, and she asked if I would sell her some wood. I suggested we get someone to watch the booth at noon and venture off to find some wood sellers, for I needed some wood for inlay. I told her they might have some wood she would like and could afford. Normally, I would find wood in nature and not buy it, or I would barter for it, such as I had when I met Master Rollag. I could teach her this, but this day we would see what we could find at the fair. It was a measure of her father’s encouragement that he had parted with hard-earned coin for her to continue to begin learning a craft.

  It did not take us long to find several booths that sold the rarer woods to furniture makers and woodworkers. I could have spent all day looking through their stock, or just standing inside their tent pavilions smelling the wood, but I did not have that luxury. It was clear that neither Shyla nor I could afford much of what we saw here. One of the sellers must have noticed our disappointed faces, for he came over to talk to us.

  “I see by the sawdust and wood shavings still clinging to your clothes that you know wood,” he said.

  “Yes sir,” I answered. I noticed that Shyla had positioned herself behind me, staying close. “We had hoped to find some wood that was affordable, but your wood is beyond our purse.”

  “I watched you, and you have the love of wood, as does the young one hiding out behind you,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye as he looked at Shyla, who looked ready to bolt out of the tent at any minute. “Come with me to the back tent, for I think I might have some wood there you might like and can afford.” He then led us through an arch in the back of the larger pavilion tent into a smaller tent that was attached. Stacked here on racks was more wood. “Most furniture makers and woodworkers would not look at this wood for it has wild grains, knots, cracks, and holes. But if you are making smaller objects or novelty items, it might suit, and quite frankly, I would be willing to offer a great price just to not have to move it on to the next fair.”

  Shyla and I spent the rest of our noon hour picking out some of the smaller pieces, and then bargained as hard as we could to get a good price. In the end, we had done so well that the merchant threw in delivery that afternoon of the wood we could not carry. All and all, the hour we just spent had been a stroke of luck. The wood we selected was of varying types and lengths, and some that I had never seen or worked with. It was also good to know that this particular merchant would be traveling the fair route, so perhaps we would visit him again.

  It was nice to have company in the booth for the afternoon. Shyla’s questions and my carving between customers kept my hands and mind occupied, so I did not spend much time thinking about the upcoming dinner with Master Rollag, or the possibility of seeing Da again. At the end of the working day, I packed everything up and locked up the cart. Back at my homewagon, I brushed my clothes off, so I would look somewhat presentable, and was ready to leave when Beezle arrived. I had retrieved the royal seal from its hiding place and had it safely tucked away in my inner pocket. It would not do at this point to have what had caused such a hue and cry lifted by a pickpocket.

  It was not a long walk to the Hall of Masters, which was just inside the gate to the second ring of the town. The Hall of Masters was housed in a tall stately building with a wide open front and more windows than I had ever seen in a building. Master Rollag met us at the entrance and gave us a brief tour of the exhibits. The Hall of Masters at the Snoddleton fair was a showcase for work by artisans and crafters of extraordinary talent. I could only dream of having one of my works displayed in a hall such as this, but since I was not of the guild system that seemed unlikely, though not impossible.

  We had a pleasant dinner with Master Rollag and other members of the Glassmaker Guild, but Da was not present. I suppose I should have suspected that, but I was disappointed just the same. After we had finished ea
ting, Master Rollag indicated that he did not have watch until later, and perhaps we might like to join him on the roof for our after dinner tea.

  “Great view,” he said, “and we could watch the sun set over the town.”

  He had set chairs and a small table out on the roof. After we were settled, a man in Glassmakers Guild livery came through the roof door carrying a tray loaded down with steaming mugs, and I had to catch myself from leaping up, for it was Da.

  “Ah, Jonzee, thank you. I’d like you to stay for awhile if you would,” Master Rollag requested. “I think you know all of these folks.” After Da sat, Master Rollag continued. “We never really had much time to all gather after our adventures in Crestbury. I thought we needed to put our heads together and see if we can make any sense of that night.”

  Beezle and Master Clarisse looked pointedly at me. I cleared my throat and told Master Rollag and Da about the object that had bumped up against my shoe, and what we had discovered upon opening it. I told the group I felt very uncomfortable having it, now that we knew what it was. Master Rollag then suggested that it needed to get to Beezle’s uncle.

  “Your uncle needs to know about this turn of events. Do you have the seal with you, Nissa?” Master Rollag asked.

  “Yes, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving it in the homewagon, and I would be relieved if you took it,” I answered back, all the while fumbling in my inner pocket to get it out and hand it over.

  “This is not a good omen,” stated Master Rollag. “Master Clarisse, can you spare Evan tomorrow? I think he needs to spend time with his friend Clare. Caution him to be very careful, but we need to know more about what is happening to the Princess. She is scheduled to judge the pastries tomorrow and having that young rascal in the crowd would be a help.”

  We talked awhile longer, sharing information and speculating on what it all meant. I had just poured myself a second cup of tea when Master Rollag said, “Now then my young friends, it is getting late. Beezle, Master Clarisse, would you mind helping me move a display downstairs? Nissa, would you mind helping Jonzee move the table and chairs inside and bring the tea things down to the kitchen? No, no, don’t get up, Nissa. You haven’t finished your tea.”

  These were requests I was happy to say yes to, for it meant I would be able to have a short time to talk to Da. What a fortunate piece of luck.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Thorval was so proud of his daughter that it took all he had to not pull her up off her chair and hug her. Time was of the essence here, however, and so he calmly sat back down and poured himself another cup of tea, which he really did not want. He looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear his conversation with his daughter. In a very soft voice, almost a whisper, said, “Ari . . ., ah, Nissa, I have to start thinking of you with that name so I don’t mess up. Anyway, Nissa, while I would like to spend more than a brief moment with you just talking and catching up, we don’t have much time. There are a few important things I need to tell you. First and foremost is I love you, and I am so proud of you. Over the last month, you have kept a cool head in dangerous situations and have gathered good friends around you. I only wish I could be with you, but that would put you in even more danger than you already are.”

  “I love you too,” Nissa whispered back, “and I miss you.”

  “The others will be expecting us soon, and there are things you need to know. Master Rollag is aware of who both of us really are,” Thorval told his daughter. When he saw the look of surprise and alarm on her face, he quickly assured her she could trust Master Rollag. “He and I have a history, and I believe him when he says he will look out for you. Know that you can trust him. I also think you can trust Master Clarisse, Beezle, and Evan with your true identity, if you need to do so. However, the fewer folks who know our secret, the better, for it places all of us in less danger.”

  “How does Master Rollag know who you are?”

  “That’s a story for another time, I am afraid. Now,” said Thorval, effectively cutting off any more questions Nissa might ask, “do you remember when the tall fair-haired man bumped into our table at the Inn of the Three Hares?”

  “The one you recognized? The one who slipped something under the bread basket which you picked up with the expertise of a slight of hand artist?” Nissa remarked dryly.

  “Ah, so you noticed both of those things, did you? You are either very observant, or I am losing my touch. Did you also notice what he said?”

  “He was very polite if I recall.”

  “He was, but his words had a dual meaning. He said, as he slipped the folded paper under the bread basket, ‘Your pardon’ and he meant it literally. What he slipped me was a pardon for one Thorval Pedersen, duly signed and stamped with the Regent’s seal. That he knew who I was under the disguise is worrisome in and of itself. That he had a pardon with him when he came into the Inn suggests he knew I was going to be there that night. That he appears to be solidly in the opposition’s camp makes me wonder about my continued safety and what this pardon is all about. Was he trying to slip me a paper that could be my salvation, or was he setting up a trap? I really don’t know whose side he is on.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He is the son of an old friend of both your mother’s and mine from another time and place,” Thorval answered. “Be extra cautious should you see him again. He may not know who you are, but then again, he may. Well,” Thorval said clearing his throat, “we should start putting the chairs and table away and take the tea things down before the others begin to wonder what is taking us so long. Please be careful.”

  “I’ll do my best to stay out of harm’s way.”

  “See that you do,” stated Thorval with mock seriousness, and then added very quietly, “see that you do.”

  The two, with quiet efficiency, carried the chairs and table to the roof door and placed them in a small cupboard just inside the door. As they went back to gather up the cups and tea pot, Thorval said, “Master Rollag mentioned he may be sending me on an errand for the guild. He will let you know discretely if I am sent out of town, and where you might expect to find me next. I know you have a lot of questions swirling around in that head of yours, and I promise I will try to answer them as soon as I can, but for now, you are better off knowing only what you know. Knowing more would put others in danger. Come, let us go join the others.”

  Evan crawled out of the tent far brighter and more cheerful than usual, for he was excited about the day ahead. Master Clarisse had given him a rare day off to spend with his childhood friend, Clare. They were going to spend the day in the bakers’ area of the fair, hopefully sampling baked goods, and maybe catching a glimpse of the Princess, who was supposed to be judging the pastries this day. While Evan loved pastries, he secretly wished he was working this day and would have had tomorrow off instead, because that was the day cakes and pies would be judged, which he loved even more. Since beggars were not supposed to be choosers, as his mother would say, he thought he could probably survive a day without cakes and pies, and make do with pastries.

  After eating the hearty breakfast Mistress Jalcones had cooked, Evan quickly set off to find Clare, who had said she would meet him by the royal bake ovens. He knew she would have been up long before dawn helping prepare the head royal baker’s entries for the pastry contest. He also knew she was probably right now fussing over her entry in the apprentice level, and had hopes of achieving high marks, if not a win. Either one would help her achieve journeywoman status sooner.

  The smells of sugar and yeast, bubbling fruit and spices, became almost overpowering as Evan approached the area of the bake ovens. He felt as if the air grew hotter the closer he came. As he threaded his way between bakers rushing trays to the display pavilion, he had several overwhelming urges to snatch goodies off the trays, but just barely restrained himself. He arrived at the royal ovens just as Clare was taking her apro
n off and wiping her face with it, to remove the flour and sweat that had accumulated there.

  “Hey, Clare,” Evan said shyly, for Clare was not the same small skinny child he had once played with but had grown up to be a quite beautiful, very self assured young woman. While spending time with her yesterday had been good, he had felt a bit awkward.

  “Hey yourself,” Clare answered back. “Almost finished. Just need to wash up, and we can be on our way.”

  “What, you didn’t save out one of your entries for me to sample to make sure it was fit to eat?” retorted Evan.

  “Only if you say pretty please with mouse meat on it,” Clare replied with a twinkle in her eye.

  Evan laughed and felt better than he had since arriving in Snoddleton. The mention of “pretty please with mouse meat” brought back a flood of memories of summer days with Clare. When they would try to talk cook out of some delectable goodie she had just pulled out of the oven, cook would say what Clare had just said. Suddenly everything was alright again between them. At least that was one less worry about this day. Evan had been trying not to think about the other objective he had been asked to keep in mind. As Clare finished up, the conversation he had had with Master Clarisse the night before came back to him.

  “I want you to pay very close attention to a number of things,” Master Clarisse had told him. “Pay close attention to anything to do with the Princess, such as her appearance, who is near her, her royal guards, and listen in on what folks around her are saying. I do not think many will pay much attention to you and Clare, but do not do anything to draw attention to yourselves either.”