by Nic Weissman
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Thost rode, trotting his horse. He could see the old mansion on top of the hill. It was very close and he slightly accelerated his pace. He was tired and wanted to get home. He could see the smoke coming from the north fireplace. His son Ithelas probably had lit the fire.
He led Estogarr to a medium-size shed, which was very close to the mansion, where they could store up to six horses. After introducing the horse into their fold and giving him some caresses, he served the horse an extra helping of straw. He had behaved beautifully, as usual. He was a good traveling horse. He possessed great strength, was very docile and predictable, and not easily frightened. But he wasn't a warhorse. He could not trot it in speed, mounted in full armor.
After greeting and caressing the other horses, he went into the house. He stopped and looked at the beautiful entrance. Some of the furnishings were of high quality and the interior was generally in good condition. He had been lucky to have been able to keep that house. It had been one of the summer houses of his family for generations, especially for family members who had passion for hunting. In those plains, you could find foxes, bears and wolves, among other prey. The most appreciated were the winter wolves, which had amazing and valuable white fur.
The hunting of these animals for their skins was professionalized in the last twenty years, becoming one of the important economic activities of the city. The skins were exported to other cities and counties, especially to those in the north, which were colder in winter. Since professional hunters had cornered the area, hunting had become much more difficult for fans. The nobility and the wealthy that had built or bought houses in that area, in order to exploit this hobby, had been losing interest in visiting these villas as hunting became more complicated. Many people sold them and didn't return, but he always wanted to keep it. Some of the happiest memories of his childhood, with his father and other relatives, had taken place in that old house. Although the property was, perhaps, the least valuable of the houses of his fortune, he always had a special affection for it. And this was providential when the problems arrived. As the house was not within the Borydos County, they could not claim it directly. Yet he was about to lose it, but his friend the Count of Norvik interceded for him to keep it and thus have a place to live outside the County, fulfilling the order of banishment. Now that residence was all that remained of his family fortune.
Of course, its maintenance wasn't cheap, so he had to do without most of the servants and only kept Dreshpho, who served as a cook and maid. He also closed one of the sections of the house to reduce costs. In any case they did not need much space. Ithelas and he had to work several hours a week to maintain the animals, cut wood or care for the garden. But Ithelas was responsible for the latter, since he did not mind taking care of the horses. In fact, he loved it; Thost loved horses. They were much more reliable than people.
Ithelas sat in the great hall, next to the fire with one of his books. He read so much!
“Hello, son,” Thost greeted.
“Hello, Father. How did it go in town?” the young man asked.
“I took longer than I would have liked. But I managed to complete all the formalities.”
The knight briefly summarized the few developments concerning his trip. Ithelas nodded slowly before returning to his reading. It was a very old and thick tome; it was somewhat dusty.
Samar then entered the room. The elf greeted Thost warmly. Then she sat down next to them and pulled out a wooden figure from a small pouch she was carrying. She took a sharp knife from her belt and began to carve the figure with slow, methodical, precise movements. She liked to carve in the living room while talking to them. She said it was relaxing and she had a real talent for it. She carved lovely figures.
What a girl! The elf had been with him longer than he remembered. She was one of his most trusted people, even in the early stages as Count of Borydos. And since then he had only received friendship and loyalty. She was practically one of the only ones who supported it when he was banished. He'd trust her with his life and, even more, that of his own son without a moment's hesitation.
Samar also contributed to the maintenance of the house. She was the best hunter he had ever seen, and went out periodically to claim some pieces and then sell them for gold. She helped Thost with the costs with part of what she got from her hunting. The elf gave another part of her games to the cook. Really, between the meat Samar brought and the vegetables they obtained from the small garden that Ithelas maintained, their expenses on food were very small. They bought mainly flour, spices, salt, wine and cheese. Thost took care of it during his visits to the city once a week.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. This was not usual, they barely had visits. Thost got up and went to open it. At the entrance there was a man wearing worn-out travel clothes, mostly leather. The man had a certain size; he was not a classless servant.
“Good afternoon,” the individual said.
“Good afternoon. Who are you?” Thost asked.
“A simple messenger. I have a letter for you and your companions,” the man responded as he extended his arm and handed him an envelope.
Thost picked it up, and when he looked back, the man was gone. This was the strangest thing. Mail was no longer delivered at his home. This was one of the many services interrupted when he had to leave Borydos. Now he could only collect his letters when he passed the post office, usually once a week, while visiting the city. And private courier services were extremely rare and expensive. Normally only the rich and the nobility, who had many servants, used such practices and only did it by sending one of their trusted servants.
He read the outside of the envelope. It was addressed to Thost Oroden, Ithelas Oroden and Samar, daughter of Butholith.
CHAPTER 6: THE CITY OF THE EMERALD LAKE
