Journey's Middle

by B. K. Parent

  I had followed the Princess so far with her description. The capitol, in my mind more than any town or village I had visited, certainly divided the ranks and levels of society literally and physically within the town. I could tell that the Princess was very proud of the capitol, and I continued to listen to her description.

  “I seem to have gotten off track, for what you wanted to know was about the fairgrounds. There is a well-paved road leading south from the merchant level, across the south branch of the Addergoogle River, and through a section of very well-groomed royal forest to the fairgrounds. The fairgrounds are like a small town in a sense. Each of the major guilds has a guildhall with surrounding grounds. Beyond that section is a large field that will provide an area for those like us who come just for the fair week. It will be set up much like the other summer fairs. It is an early spring wheat field, so it has already been harvested for the year. Beyond that area are the royal farms, and that is where the livestock and other farm exhibits and judging will be held. In the midst of all of this is a natural amphitheater, which is called the Well of Speaking.”

  I found it interesting that when the Princess was describing the area where the camping and booths were to be, she included herself as a fair participant. I thought it best not to point that out, so I continued to listen. I asked her to tell me more about the Well of Speaking.

  “It is probably one of the most amazing natural wonders of our land. It is a natural amphitheater, but what makes this one special is how sound carries. You can stand at the bottom at the speakers stand and whisper, and the whole of the audience standing on the amphitheater floor or seated in the seats rising up the sides of the amphitheater would be able to hear you clearly. Since it is a quite large amphitheater, a great many folks can assemble and listen to speakers or singers. It would have been where I gave my first address to the folk after becoming named Queen on my birth date. It is probably where the Regent will address the folk concerning my illness, or inability to rule, or demise. Whatever it is he has planned.”

  I could hear the anger and the sadness in the Princess’ voice and felt helpless not to be able to offer a solution that would fix the predicament we found ourselves in. I could offer an apology, but what good was saying I was sorry going to do, and then again, just what was I sorry for: her, me, or the predicament we both found ourselves in?

  “Well,” the Princess said. “Did that help you understand the capitol and the fairgrounds any better?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Your capitol sounds beautiful and thoughtfully laid out. It’s helpful to know a little bit about what lies ahead. I was either unaware, or did not remember, that the fair lay outside the capitol proper. That could be a good thing or a complication, depending on what we need to do once we get to the capitol. It’s not as if we have a master plan in place as to what’s going to happen next. Hopefully the Regent and his followers are unaware that you are traveling as a rover. I’m hoping it would not even occur to the Regent, since he holds us in such disdain.”

  “I wish I understood why that is,” the Princess said. “It feels like there is more to it than trying to create a scapegoat. I would sometimes hear him talking about rovers, and once I felt I detected a sense of fear in the Regent concerning you folks. I wish I could have put my finger on the why of that.”

  Now that was an interesting piece of information. The Regent was afraid of rovers. I wished Da were here so I could ask him about that, but it was just a nugget of information I was going to tuck away, along with the key I had found that morning, to be looked at more closely later. Perhaps I would have the opportunity to talk to either Oscar or Bertram about that.

  Much as it would have been nice to continue just sitting at the table and talking, there was much to be done this day, and the day was not getting any longer with us sitting here. Any further conversation was interrupted when a soft, tentative knock came on the door.

  “I think that knocking is for you,” I suggested with a smile. “One of your legions of many loyal fans, Kiaya, awaits without.”

  It had turned out that the future Queen of our land is a very good storyteller, and had made the mistake of telling a fine tale around the cook fire one night. Now the small rover children of our group had taken to begging her for more stories after the morning chores were done. The “once upon a time” stories she told while knitting, with the children gathered at her feet, were quite intriguing, and I noticed a number of the older children and adults would stop talking and listen also. It certainly helped pass the time as we all worked on, or polished up, our entries for the judging.

  The rest of the day passed without incident. While our campsite was tucked back off the main road, sound carries in the woods, and we could hear the increase of traffic moving through the forest. Several times, wagons stopped at the end of the winding cart path that led to our campsite, and someone walked down to check it out, only to learn that there really was only room for one more wagon, and we were expecting someone any day now. Others, it would seem, had the same idea we did, to get near the capitol early to have a chance to rest up prior to the fair. It was the one fair of the summer where folks came from all over Sommerhjem, some traveling great distances.

  It was late in the afternoon when we heard the sound of another wagon slowly making its way down the cart path towards our site, and I saw Oscar get up and go up the path to maybe head them off. I could hear him talking to someone, but the voices were muffled, so I could not make out the words. Moments later, a rover homewagon entered the clearing, and I could see Oscar sitting next to the driver. It was Tannar. I am sure all of us breathed a collective sigh of relief. Bertram, upon seeing his son, jumped up so fast he tipped his chair over, but he was beaten to the side of the homewagon by his wife, Petrine, who practically pulled her son down from the homewagon when he reached down to squeeze her hand. It surprised me how swiftly she had moved, for Petrine was the one who was always as steady as a rock in whatever she did.

  Everyone pitched in to get the homewagon settled in its spot and to get the horses out to pasture. Tannar was a quiet solid lad like his father and withstood the huge commotion from his family before quietly reminding us that he was not traveling alone. Most of us had the good grace to look chagrinned.

  He then turned to me and said, “Shueller would like you to visit with him, if you would, Nissa.”

  I nodded my acquiescence to Tannar, and as I mounted the steps to Shueller’s homewagon, I could hear Tannar telling his parents about his adventure. I was sure the story would be told again, so I lightly knocked on the homewagon door.

  “Come,” said a quiet voice in answer to my knock.

  I entered the dimly lit homewagon, for the curtains were drawn, and I saw a small lump in the bed. An arm beckoned me from the lump, so I stepped across the threshold and walked to the side of the bed.

  Shueller patted the side of the bed and said, “Come, keep an old man company for a while and tell me what has happened since we last met. Tannar has been a great traveling companion, and it is my hope, if we all survive the next few weeks, that he will stay on with me, for he shows remarkable talent for leatherwork, but he was not very forthcoming with what was going on.”

  “Don’t blame him, for as with all of Bertram’s and Oscar’s youngsters, we have felt it was more prudent to give them as little information as possible. You never know when a youngster might inadvertently say something within the wrong hearing. While I know that Tannar is older even than Evan, Master Clarisse’s apprentice, in many ways he is younger.”

  “And you are so old yourself,” Shueller said, with a wry humor in his voice.

  “Some days I feel a lot older than my years,” I responded back.

  “Part of that comes with the circumstances you find yourself in and part comes with the territory of being Neebing blessed.”

  Shueller and others had mentioned that I was Neebing bl
essed before, but I was not sure just what that meant, nor how someone would know, and was about to ask when there came a knock on the door, and Petrine stuck her head in.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I brought a couple mugs of hot tea and some biscuits that should tide you over until supper.”

  I went to the door and took the tray from her. When I turned back, Shueller had sat himself up and was propped against pillows. He appeared even smaller than I remembered, and I could see the yellowish discoloration of fading bruises on his face and hands. I handed him a steaming mug of tea and pulled a table bench over to sit on. Before I could ask about being Neebing blessed, Shueller again asked that I catch him up on what had happened since he had been captured. I obliged.

  The time passed quickly, and soon it was time for supper. Tannar came in and told me he would help Shueller to get up and get out to the cook fire. I could see a bond had formed between the young rover and the old Günnary. With so many rovers sitting around the cook fire of all ages and heights, if someone were to look in on our group, I am not sure Shueller would be all that noticeable, which was a good thing. When all the evening chores had been done and the last cup of tea had been drunk, the group began to drift back to their own homewagons.

  Tannar came over to Shueller to help him back to his homewagon, but Shueller gently waved him away saying, “This is the first night it has been safe for me to sit outside and just look at the stars since I was dragged off by the Raven’s men, and I want to savor it a little longer. Spend some time with your family, but later I wouldn’t mind if you continued to stay in my homewagon. Would be nice knowing someone was there if I needed anything. Nissa, are you going to stay out a little longer?”

  “I certainly can,” I answered.

  “I am feeling a bit tired myself,” Kiaya stated, “so I am going to excuse myself. Shueller, I don’t think I will ever be able to express how very thankful I am to you for your part in helping me get away, and for all the suffering you have endured keeping my whereabouts secret. I am truly grateful.”

  To my surprise, I would swear Shueller blushed, but that may only have been a reflection of the firelight. Soon, however, everyone was gone, and it was just Shueller and I sitting in a comfortable silence, listening to the night sounds and the crackle of the fire.

  “I sense you are carrying something that needs to be better protected, Nissa, but I didn’t want to mention it before now. I wasn’t quite sure when we were in my homewagon, but now sitting here close to you, I can feel it,” Shueller said.

  At first I could not figure out what he might be talking about. The rings Da and Mistress Fern had given me were safely wrapped in golden pine spider silk, and Shueller had seen the ring from the Huntress before. Then it dawned on me that the key I had found in the Neebing room was still in my pocket where I had put it this morning. I reached into my pocket and was relieved that the key was still there. I do not know how I had forgotten about it or been so careless concerning it.

  “I think this is what you might be sensing,” I said, wondering how he could sense it in the first place. I extended my hand towards Shueller with the key in the palm of my hand. He leaned forward to take a good look at what I held and exclaimed, “Oh my!”

  Chapter Seventy

  Sailing with the jib only, and the mainsail furled, made the passage through the dense fog slow going. If they had not been following the mysterious glow in front of them, they would not have been going anywhere, thought Johan to himself. If the area around the Shadow Islands was always enveloped in fog this thick, it was no wonder ships disappeared once they entered. Just before he had dozed off, Johan thought to himself that if he survived this journey, he was going to have grand tales to tell at the pub in Mumblesey during the winter months.

  Thorval was not thinking in terms of “ifs”. He was as determined as ever to get through the fog and as far away from the ship that had followed them into the fog as possible. With the thick fog between the Mowenna and open water, the other ship could not see them, but neither could they know where the other ship was, or if there would be more than one ship waiting for them when they emerged from the fog. It was hard to tell the hour. It had been near dusk when they had entered the fog, but based on his fatigue, Thorval suspected half the night was gone. They needed to get out of the fog far enough away from the ship that followed them, and then make a break for the capitol without being caught.

  The break between the fog and the open water was so sudden that even the starlight seemed overly bright. Thorval was thankful there was not a full moon, for even with a dark colored boat and dark sails, once he raised the mainsail, their silhouette would be visible if someone were really on the lookout for them. As the stern of the boat came out of the fog, Thorval looked over his left shoulder. He could see the running lights of the other ship, pinprick dots a long way away. Fortune had favored them in that he could not see any other ships. Thorval took out of his pocket the digeron he had used to call his mysterious help and played a silent thanks. The glow turned and winked out.

  Thorval looked up to get his bearings, but to be on the safe side, reached over and placed his hand over Johan’s mouth while gently shaking his shoulder. The old man had fallen into an exhausted sleep about an hour prior. Thorval had covered Johan’s mouth so he would not make a sound upon being awakened because sound carried over water. Johan awoke with a start, and then seemed to quickly understand where he was. He sat up and stretched.

  Thorval leaned in and whispered, “We’re out of the fog. The ship that chased us is over your left shoulder. You can just make out her running lights. Can you get a fix on where we are before I raise the mainsail?”

  While the Mowenna slowly crept away from the fog bank, Johan got his instruments out and took a sighting. Then he went below, where no light would show, to plot a course on his charts. Not many minutes later, Johan was back and gave Thorval the compass setting.

  “Once ye set the mainsail, hold her to this course. Should head us straight towards the Fiske Yates reefs.”

  “You want to head straight towards the reefs?”

  “There be a place a boat our size can get through but where the ship back there can’t. If we be spotted and have to make a run for it, tryin’ to get through the reef unscathed be risky but doable. If no one be followin’ us, then we be skirtin’ the reefs,” stated Johan, with such conviction that Thorval believed him.

  Thorval was beginning to suspect, with great certainty, that Johan had at one time been more than a simple long trawler fisher. He certainly was a handy ally to have now. It was time to raise the mainsail and hope they did not get spotted. Once Thorval raised the mainsail, he went to the stern to take over the helm. At first he thought their luck had held, but looking back he was appalled to see that the ship behind them was lit up, and in the lantern light, he could just make out the crew hoisting sail. At that same moment, the wind freshened, and the Mowenna began to pick up speed. Thorval chanced to look back again and noticed something strange was happening to the other ship.

  Master Rollag, Lady Celik, and Seeker Eshana talked quietly for a few more minutes and then left the tavern, deciding to put some distance between themselves and this backwater village. Travel back towards the capitol would be a bit faster, despite being slowed down somewhat by Seeker Eshana’s two pack animals. The journey back would also be more direct because Master Rollag and Lady Celik would not be chasing rumors this time. The trio had been traveling several hours when Seeker Eshana, who had been at the rear, moved up and pulled alongside Master Rollag.

  “I think someone is dogging our trail.”

  Master Rollag looked up in surprise. He thought he had been paying attention and had had no indication that they might be being followed, but he did not question Seeker Eshana. The man had an uncanny sense of knowing that most folks did not possess.

  “What do you want to do?”

&nbs
p; “Here, take the leads of the pack horses. My horse will follow you. Do not take his reins.”

  With that said, Seeker Eshana moved his horse to the edge of the road without slowing down, stood in the saddle, grabbed a thick branch that hung over the side of the road, and swung himself up. Master Rollag, Lady Celik, and Seeker Eshana’s three horses continued on.

  “Who would have thought a man so big could be so nimble,” Lady Celik remarked. “I would not want to be the one he suddenly drops on out of that tree.”

  Lady Celik and Master Rollag traveled on for what seemed to them an extraordinarily long time, but was not, when suddenly Seeker Eshana’s horse wheeled about and trotted back the way they had come.

  “Should we be concerned?” Lady Celik asked.

  Evan was bored. With Master Clarisse spending so much time in meetings at the capitol Glassmakers Guildhall, Evan was left to his own devices much of the time. He had finished his entry piece for the judging, had cleaned and repacked the wagon, had been to the guildhall quartermaster for new clothes, for it seemed he had suddenly grown out of all of his old clothes, and now he was at loose ends. Evan decided to use his time to get a feel for the rest of the fairgrounds. He had been to the capitol guildhall before, but never during fair time. Besides, he wanted to see where the horses and other livestock would be shown and sold.