by Wark, RM
When Edwin and a handful of his neighbors came upon the latest campsite, they were surprised to find so many people. There must have been at least thirty Easterners – men, women and children – wandering about. Edwin’s entourage was only a party of five. But they had horses and they had torches, and they had bows and arrows if it came to that, so Edwin was not too worried.
“We have told you and all the Easterners before you to vacate our land. You are not welcome here. Go home.”
The Easterners barely acknowledged the presence of Edwin and continued mulling about the campsite in their listless way.
“Perhaps fire is a better motivator than words,” Edwin offered, nodding to his companions. They slowly made their way towards the campsite with the torches in hand, intending to set the tents afire. But the Easterners formed a line to block their path, and for the first time Edwin noticed that the famished people also had weapons – long swords and spears that the horses dared not pass.
Edwin retreated that night. But the next night he brought along twenty more men, all of whom were armed. And so the first of many skirmishes with the Easterners began, and as word spread, the rest of the Western Territories held their breath, uncertain of what would happen next.
*************
As he made his way closer to the Village of Norman, Gentry noticed the Taiga Forest, which thus far had been predominately comprised of white-trunked birch trees, was now starting to become more and more dominated by tall evergreen trees. He also started to see some trails, presumably made by loggers, entering the forest.
Norman was about the same size as the Village of Dawson. It was nothing more than a small square of various establishments at the village center with houses scattered all around. The villagers seemed nice enough but mostly kept to themselves. Unlike Dawson, the local pub at the Timberland Inn and Tavern was deserted, even though it was getting close to dinnertime. Gentry took advantage of the quiet and studied his maps some more.
The series of streams between Norman and Yukon gave him much pause. He feared he might have trouble crossing those waters. Unfortunately the bartender and random patrons that strolled into the pub were of no help to Gentry; none of them had ever bothered to visit Yukon. Apparently they did not think much of mining towns either.
The next morning Gentry stocked up on additional supplies and left the little Village of Norman with nothing more than crude markings on a map to guide him.
*************
Luca stared at his shoes. The leather had become so worn with age that it had been fairly easy for him to cut holes in the ends to free his big toes from their painful confinement. At the time, the largest toes barely extended passed the soles of his shoes. But that had been several months ago, and now all of his toes poked through. He wiggled them as he clutched the gold pieces in his hands. Now I shall finally have new shoes. He smiled, thinking of Gentry, and continued walking along the dirt road to the shoe cobbler’s shop.
Ned had been hammering nails into a sole of a shoe when Luca stepped inside. “What are you doing here?” he asked, continuing to hammer away.
“I have come for new shoes,” Luca said in a quiet voice. He had always been somewhat intimidated by the large man with a loud voice.
“You need money for shoes.” The annoyance in Ned’s voice was obvious. He knew that Luca was only paid in food and ale for his services at the Settler’s Inn. I hate when these beggar boys waste my time.
“I have money, sir.” The boy uncurled his hand to reveal the gold pieces in his palm.
“How did you get that money? Has that drunk mother of yours finally taken a job?” Ned stopped hammering and looked up in surprise. He never imagined much would come of that woman. But perhaps Darlene took pity on her and gave her a room in the brothel.
“No, sir.” Luca lowered his eyes in shame. He knew what people thought of his mother, but it still hurt to hear it.
Ned scowled. It must be stolen, then. “I do not sell shoes to thieving boys,” he said angrily. “You best return that money or I shall make sure you lose your job at the Settler’s Inn.”
“I -- I did not steal any money,” Luca insisted. “A kind gentleman gave me the gold.”
Ned eyed the boy with suspicion. “What for?”
“For taking care of his horse.”
“And when was this?”
“About a week ago, sir.”
Ned knew there had not been too many visitors to Colton as of late. The only visitor he could recall was the man that Dennison’s gang had gone after. The one that got away. A slow smile crept upon Ned’s face. “Tell me, Luca - would this gentleman benefactor of yours happen to be that same man that Dennison was looking for a few nights back?”
Luca paused just a moment too long before answering emphatically, “No. No, sir.”
Luca left with new shoes on his feet and no more gold pieces in his hand.
*************
It did not take Gentry and Casper long to stumble upon the first of many stream crossings. The bridge appeared to have been recently reinforced and Gentry had no trouble at all making his way across the swift stream. Between each of the subsequent stream crossings, the path would endlessly zigzag around rocky outcrops of boulders. Nevertheless, the trail was not nearly as difficult to follow as the trail through the Colton Gap had been, and Casper was able to make good time.
It was not until the sixth stream-crossing that Gentry ran into any trouble. Some debris from upstream had crashed into the little wooden bridge and one of the logs along the span was badly damaged. Gentry dismounted Casper and walked towards the bridge for a closer look. He was happy to see that the damage was only to the outermost log and that the rest of the bridge seemed sturdy enough. To be safe he decided to walk Casper across the bridge.
The bridge creaked and moaned, and Gentry began to worry the weight of Casper was too much for the damaged span, but he pressed forward. He must go to Mt. Xavier and this was the only way. He supposed he could leave Casper behind, but it would take too long to trek all the way back to Norman to put his horse up in a stable, not to mention how much time he would lose by trying to make the remainder of the journey on foot.
These were the thoughts going through Gentry’s mind when he should have been watching Casper’s footing. The poor horse’s back left hoof stepped directly on the damaged part of the log, snapping it in two and causing the horse to stumble. When he regained his footing, Casper frantically bolted across the span to the other side of the bridge, and in the process managed to knock an unsuspecting Gentry into the stream below.
The water was ice cold and a total shock to Gentry’s system. Though the stream was not that deep, it was moving at a rapid pace and Gentry had already been pushed some fifty yards downstream before he was able to grab hold of a tree branch and slowly pull himself out. He finally crawled onto the shore and lay down, totally exhausted and out of breath, not to mention freezing cold.
Suddenly Gentry was struck with a total sense of panic. The money. The message. They had been in one of the interior pockets of his coat. Gentry sat up and desperately started searching for those items. He breathed a huge sigh of relief as he found the small bag of gold pieces and bronze tube still safe inside his pocket. He wondered if the message inside had become waterlogged, but from the outside it appeared fine.
Fortunately Gentry had not been totally submerged in the shallow stream and the uppermost part of his body (where the money and message tube were tucked away) was not that wet. The lower part of his body was soaked, however. Weighted down by his wet clothes, Gentry slowly made his way back to Casper. He was relieved to find that the horse had not gone far after crossing the bridge. Gentry changed into the extra pair of pants and shirt that he had packed in his satchel. He did not have a spare coat or shoes, however, so he was forced to camp out while these items dried by the fire. The rest of the day Gentry spent huddled under blankets, watching the fire and nibbling on bread.
As he sat there shivering by
the fire, Gentry found himself thinking of Luca. He wondered how the boy was doing. He wondered if the boy had finally purchased some new shoes. He found himself looking forward to seeing the boy again.
By the next morning his clothes were dry, although stiff and cold to the touch. Gentry put his coat and shoes on and started back on the trail to Yukon. Aside from having to pay a toll to cross the final bridge into town (Gentry was certain he had been swindled by the guard but did not want to argue this close to his destination), the remainder of the trip was thankfully uneventful.
Once he was checked into the local inn, Otto’s Place, Gentry had a single pint of ale and then headed off to bed in his room above the pub. The pub was loud but somehow Gentry managed to sleep through it all; he did not awaken until late the next morning, his stomach growling with hunger pangs.
*************
After filling his stomach with some pottage and bread, Gentry set out to find more information on how to reach Lady Dinah’s castle on Mt. Xavier. The big purple mountain dominated the horizon. The sparse vegetation made it look barren and ominous, nothing at all like the beautiful majestic mountain he had pictured in his mind. There were no obvious signs that anyone lived on the mountain. Why would anyone want to?
Gentry knew he needed to learn more about the route and expected timeframe for reaching Lady Dinah’s in order to make certain he had sufficient provisions, so he stopped at the General Store to see if there were any maps on hand. Given that Yukon was a mining town, he figured there would be plenty of maps of the nearby hills and that they would be relatively easy to come by. He was wrong.
Gentry had not been prepared for the old man behind the counter to look at him suspiciously and ask him why he needed the maps. Gentry’s old excuse of hunting white deer in the Taiga Forest would not do him any good here in Yukon, but he did not want to go into his business with Lady Dinah either. Afterwards it occurred to Gentry that he should have pretended to be looking for gold, but in the moment all he could think to say was, “That is none of your concern.”
The old man behind the counter did not appreciate Gentry’s response and replied crossly, “Then you shall find your own way without the benefit of my maps.”
Gentry found that most of the villagers were as suspicious and unfriendly to him as the old man behind the counter had been. This was particularly annoying as the slightest bit of information on Mt. Xavier would have been incredibly helpful, but Gentry figured it was probably just as well since one could not really trust people in a mining town anyway.
After a fruitless morning, Gentry headed back to the pub for a bite to eat. The bartender happened to be Otto, the owner of the establishment. He was an odd character with a short black beard and dark eyes, and upon his shoulder was a little grey bird that he called Max. They made some small talk about the weather before Otto started in with the question Gentry had been dreading.
“What brings you to Yukon, my son?”
Gentry frowned. He was reluctant to reveal his business, but he desperately needed more information. With great reluctance he replied, “I am headed for Mt. Xavier.”
Otto was a bit taken aback. He had been expecting the young man to say something about mining for riches like every other lost soul that wandered into the town. He knew the only reason anyone would venture to Mt. Xavier would be to see Lady Dinah, and that troubled him. “Is the Lady expecting you?”
Gentry shook his head. “I do not think so.”
“You know she does not take kindly to unwelcome guests,” warned Otto as he filled a second pint for Gentry.
Gentry did not acknowledge Otto’s comment and instead asked, “Do you know how one might find her castle?”
Otto rubbed his beard and looked at Gentry for a moment before responding. “I have never been there myself, but there is a main trail up the mountain from Pikes Road, the road just to the northeast of here. It is less than a day to the mountain. I have heard it takes about four days on foot to reach the castle.”
This was great news! Gentry would make even better time having Casper with him.
“You know you cannot bring a horse up that way,” Otto said, as if reading Gentry’s mind. “I am told there are several places where rockslides have blocked the path and you must climb over on foot.”
Gentry’s heart sank. He pondered the situation for a moment and then asked, “May I board my horse at your stable until I return?” He did not like the idea of leaving Casper behind, but he did not want to take the chance of stranding the horse on the side of the mountain either.
“If you have the money, I have the space,” shrugged Otto.
Now that he knew he would be making the journey on foot, Gentry set out to stock up on supplies. One of the heavy bags full of blankets and other gear that Casper had carried thus far would now need to be carried on Gentry’s back, so he spent some time editing the items down to the bare essentials. He also stocked up on some food and a few kindling sticks; Gentry was a bit concerned at the sparsity of trees on the mountain and hoped there would be enough wood to start a fire.
Up until now he had not been overly concerned about his safety; having Casper and a fire were the only weapons he needed to keep any dangerous animals at bay. But now he would be traveling alone in a place where trees (and therefore firewood) were scarce. He still had the knife that he had taken from Dennison back at the River Nye, but he was worried it would not be sufficient. He went back to the General Store and picked up a bow, some arrows and a quiver. The old man was still grumpy from their previous encounter, but he gladly accepted Gentry’s gold pieces and held his tongue.
Gentry stopped by the stable at Otto’s Place to say good-bye to Casper. “I shall be back soon, my friend,” he said in response to Casper’s neighs. He then paid Otto for ten days of boarding and headed out to find Pikes Road and the path to Mt. Xavier.
Otto watched from his window as Gentry walked down the old road with the large bag on his back and quiver on his shoulder. He then scribbled a note and carefully tied it around Max’s foot. “Hurry, my friend. The Lady must be warned.” With that he released the bird out the window and watched him fly towards the purple mountain.
*************
It did not take long to reach Mt. Xavier – the base of the purple mountain was just a few hours walk from the Village of Yukon – but Gentry knew that it would be slow going as he started his ascent. By nightfall the first day he was still quite close to the base and felt as though he had not made any progress at all. On a positive note, there were still plenty of trees to be found at the lower elevations and Gentry had no trouble starting a fire. Over the next day and a half, Gentry hiked slowly up the mountainside, carefully skirting around narrow ledges and climbing the remnants of numerous rockslides. Otto was right, he thought. There is no way Casper could have made this part of the journey.
He had just come around a big bend in the trail when he faced an unwelcome sight: the trail split into three separate paths leading in different directions up the mountain. The entire time he had been hiking up the mountain he had been searching in vain for any signs of Lady Dinah’s castle, but even though the trees were becoming more and more scarce, he had not seen anything except snowdrifts and rocks. Not having any better plan, he decided to tackle the path to the left first, and if that did not take him to the castle he would retrace his steps and try the middle path, and so on and so forth.
He hiked for hours until the day’s light had grown so dim it was not safe to take any other steps lest he slip off the edge of the trail and down the unforgiving purple mountain. It was becoming harder and harder to find any wood for his fire, but the kindling sticks were proving useful for the few scraps of wood he had managed to gather along the way. He nibbled on stale bread and fell into a restless sleep on the cold rocks of the mountainside.
The next day he hiked a few more hours. He came around another bend in the trail and stopped dead in his tracks; the trail split into three paths again. This split looked re
markably similar to the first one, but Gentry was not certain if he had come full circle, or if he had found yet another three-way split. He retraced his steps a little in hopes of recollecting whether he had been there before or not, but it was of no use - the mountain all looked the same to him now. He cursed himself for not having the foresight to leave some sort of mark when he came across the first split, but he knew that was not quite fair. How could I have known that I would come across another three-way split that looked the same?
Gentry pulled out Dennison’s knife and carved notches into a small but sturdy rock near the edge of the trail before heading up the path to the left. He figured there was no reason to change course just yet, and whether it was the first split or the second, it would be easier to remember that he had always gone to the left if he was forced to retrace his steps.
He had been hiking again for a few hours when he realized it was growing dark already, only this time it was not because the sun was setting. Dark clouds were quickly snaking around the mountaintops and obscuring the rays of the sun. The winds picked up and the temperatures started to drop quickly. After a short while, little white snowflakes started falling from the sky.
“A snowstorm in Pentay?” Gentry could not believe it. He knew he must stop his hike and take shelter fast. There was a little rocky overhang nearby that provided some shelter. Unfortunately he had no means to start a fire, so he bundled up in some blankets and watched as the snow covered the ground around him. His stomach started to rumble, but Gentry was so cold he did not dare expose his poor hands to the elements in order to search his bag for food. So his hands remained under the blankets, and his hunger went unsatisfied. The snowstorm was showing no sign of letting up any time soon. Hungry and cold, Gentry eventually fell asleep under the overhang.
