by Bob Blink
“Man got hurt down the trail a couple of days,” Morin told them after they had a chance to talk. “”Seems he split open his leg, and it’s badly infected. They figured he would die because the closest center equipped to handle that sort of thing is in Ekine. I happened by and told the doctor I had some of the new anti-infection ointment made by the mages in Cobalo.”
“How’d you just happen to have that on hand?” Jolan asked curious.
Looking around to be sure no one could overhear, he explained. “That’s our real cargo. The wagons are mostly filled with the special medicines only available from the specialist mages in Angon.”
“I thought you were selling all those pots and pans stacked in the wagons.”
‘Well, a man can make a profit of sorts from those, but not enough to be worth the risk if ya be asking me. With the threat of war, or at least more border disturbances in Kimlelm, the price paid for real medicines has made them worth their weight in coin.”
Jolan could tell he was a bit embarrassed. “I never thought it mattered to you what we were carrying.”
“It doesn’t,” Jolan said truthfully. “But if the need is in Kimlelm, why are you taking them all the way into Seret? That seems like it’s out of the way.”
“Seret shares a long open border with Kimlelm,” Morin explained. My brother is putting together a large shipment of goods. There’s a lot of other items that are in demand as well. He will take them from Slipi over to the border, cross on a barge, and then sell everything over near the southwest border where things have been heating up.”
“I think that’s the second time I’ve heard something about a possible war. What’s going on?”
“The Ale’ald wizards are up to something again. It happens every few years. There have been a number of skirmishes in the past few months, more than in all of the previous five years combined. There have been some stories of strange new weapons they are using as well. I don’t know how much is just talk, and what is real. Rumors get out of hand when folks are scared.”
“With the wizards using magic is it possible for ordinary weapons to resist them?”
“The wizards of today are far less powerful than those of old, at least if you believe the stories. All I know is they have some limitations, which have kept Ale’ald frustrated for a long time now. They want to take over the Settled Lands; that’s no secret. Every time they try they do a lot of damage, but lose a bunch of wizards, and after a couple of years they pull back and things settle down to normal for a while.”
“So you think this is just another of those flare-ups?”
“I’d like to think that’s all it is. I don’t like the talk of new weapons though. The wizards haven’t relied much on weapons in the past. If the stories are true, they might be trying something different. If they’re successful in Kimlelm, Seret would be next.”
Jolan helped Morin put away the box of medicines, then while the others headed into the Inn, he grabbed his Mage’s box and headed back down the street. He found what he wanted a half block away and bought most of the fresh eggs they had on hand and several of the sweet melons that Iart liked so much. Neither would be available on the trail, at least until they arrived in Honlt, and maybe for some distance past there. He couldn’t see a good reason not to have a few good breakfasts as they traveled.
The proprietor at the market was very skeptical as he watched Jolan stacked the eggs loosely inside the Mage’s Box next to the melons he’d already put into place.
“Them eggs is real fragile. You stack ‘em in there loose like that they’re all going to break the first time you hit a bump,” the man warned him.
Jolan only smiled and finished filling up the special box with the large eggs. Once he had it full, he slipped the lid in place, and after paying the storekeeper, raised it up on one shoulder and headed back to the inn.
It was getting late, and the weather was turning sour by the time he returned from his next errand. The lady had done a reasonable job on his new hat. It fit perfectly, and with the smaller, firmer brim, he felt more comfortable. He didn’t know if he looked like one of his old western heroes, but was pleased when he saw Asari looking at the new headgear with interest. Of course, maybe he was looking because he thought it was silly.
While the group was at dinner, restricting the intake to a single tankard of ale apiece this evening, the weather outside broke. The rain started coming down heavily, and it looked like the area was in for a real drenching.
“Kinda glad we’re indoors tonight,” Morin observed. “Roads are gonna be a mess tomorrow though.”
Chapter 22
“What’s so strange about electing a king?” Morin asked Jolan a bit miffed at the other’s reaction to the politics of his homeland. They’d been on the road a couple of days since leaving the village, and had fallen back into the old familiar routines.
“Electing your officials is the right approach in my opinion,” Jolan responded. “But you’re telling me once you elect someone King, he is an absolute ruler. He makes the decisions, and his decisions stand.”
“Gods man, of course. What’s the point of putting someone in power and then not letting the man run things? That’s the kind of nonsense they do in Kimlelm. The fools there elect a leader, and a whole Congress of fools to help him, and try and let them rule by committee. They can hardly get anything done. Constant bickering and posturing. Takes something really important to finally get them to actually work together. “Course it does keep the silly fools from bothering the working folk so much, so maybe there is a positive side to their approach.”
“You don’t like governments?”
“What’s to like? They take an honest man’s money and find some way to waste it. Constantly deciding what it’s okay for ya to do and what isn’t. Best government is one that strictly limits its governing to what is really needed. Don’t often find one like that though.”
“Okay, so now you elect your king. Then what? Angon has a king as I understand it. What’s the difference?”
“You still don’t see. Angon’s king is for life, or until someone comes along and kicks him out. Usually the title is passed on in the family, so you’re stuck with the same group possibly for generations. If ya get a good one, then maybe it works out. Get a loser, and boy; time to move. I think Angon’s gonna learn that when the son takes over.”
“And in the case of Seret’s king?”
“Well, he’s only king for ten years. Then you vote on who’s next. Not too often people vote in the same fella again. A little change keeps things interesting.”
“And you’re happy with your current leader?”
“Well, the current one hasn’t turned out as expected. But he’s only got two more years.”
“And if he doesn’t choose to leave at the end of his term? After all, you’ve made him the absolute ruler. Maybe he changes the rules while he’s in power.”
“He’s gotta leave. That’s the system. Even though he makes the decisions while he’s in charge, not even the Royal Guard would stand for a king that wouldn’t step down when it’s time.”
“Alright. I don’t share your faith, but he certainly can’t run the place on his own. Don’t you elect anyone to help him?”
“We have the Parliament, but they aren’t elected. They are the heads of the top ten noble families of Seret.”
“Who decides who’s the top ten?”
“They fight it out among themslves,” Morin replied as if it was the most obvious approach in the world.
“What’s their function?”
“They don’t really have much power. They act as advisors, and oversee the day to day working of the government as the king decides. They do his bidding, and perhaps try to nudge his decisions one way or the other, but they have no official standing to make laws. For example, they oversee the treasury. .”
“Seems like right there they have a great deal of power.”
“Well. . . .”
Their discussion wa
s interrupted as Kinar and Polas came riding back. They’d been riding on ahead to check out the road. These days there were a lot more people coming from the other direction, and Morin liked to have an idea what was ahead.
“Pa, there’s a pretty big group coming up the road a piece,” Polas explained.
Morin frowned. “Can you tell who they are?”
“They’re still too far. It appears like they are armed from the reflections and the way the group is bunched up.”
“Where’s Asari?” Jolan asked. “Go get him up here right away. Iart, can we see them from up top of that little rise ahead?”
Iart nodded.
“Royal Guard,” Morin agreed after they’d congregated on the rise and had a look through the binoculars Asari had supplied. “Probably on silver duty, heading out to the mines for a pickup.”
“Lots of silver in this area,” Kinar explained. “Silver and gold are two of the big industries in Seret. There are a half dozen major mines out in the mountains between here and Ekine. Guard picks up the processed silver and escorts it back to Carta to the Royal Treasury. Gold seems to be mostly up north, closer to the coast.”
“Best if we find a wide spot and wait off to the side. Some of the guard are a belligerent lot, and they expect everyone to give them wide passage. Might be best just to have a little snack and let them pass by.”
He handed the binoculars back to Asari. “I’ll take a couple of thousand of those if you can tell me where to find ‘em,” he said. “I sure as hell would have no trouble selling them.”
* * * *
“What’s Seret like?” Jolan asked Morin after they were back on the road after the guard had passed them by.
The guard had been twenty-some men strong and were escorting a pair of large wagons drawn by four horses each. From the ease with which the horses pulled the wagons it was obvious they weren’t carrying any silver at the moment, but even so some of the guard looked as if they would thoroughly enjoy the chance to go after anyone who gave them any kind of a reason. All were big men, armed with swords, and several with crossbows as well. They looked like men who had spent long years in the guard and were in their declining years. Perhaps realizing their glory days were past was the reason for the attitude.
“Much more rural than Angon or Kimlelm,” Morin explained. “We do a lot of farming here, so the country’s dotted with farms and small communities everywhere. Seret is known for its fine wines, and as an exporter of foodstuff. The other big industry is the mining we talked about.”
“Not too many cities then?”
“Not big ones. There used to be more a long time ago, but after the wars some of them were either destroyed entirely, or slowly died away. There are ruins of a number of them that people still visit, but there isn’t too much to see. Now there’s only six or seven thriving with large populations. Only Carta is really big like the cities in Angon.”
“I know what I wanted to ask you. It almost slipped my mind entirely. You mentioned a place some time back you called the Lost Territories. I meant to talk with Asari about them, but totally forgot.”
“He might know a little something, given the interests he said his Pa had. Most people have forgotten all about them. Not too much was ever known.”
Morin turned and spit over the side of the wagon. Seemed like he tended to do that when he had a story to tell.
“You and he were on the road from what you tell me. The stories say the Lost Territories are somewhere on the far side of the Land of Giants. At one time, there was supposed to be another road out of Trailways, long before Trailways was a village, that took a round-about path through the great mountains. It cut through one corner of the Land of Giants, then continued on eventually reaching an unsettled territory; a wild, untamed land, populated by strange animals, and peopled with some very primitive humans.”
He stopped and grinned at Jolan.
“Of course the stories tell of vast riches just lying around for the lucky adventurer who finds the place and lives to return. Isn’t that the way? The ‘vast riches’ are always somewhere nobody can find. Oh, and some of the stories claim that the dragons were fond of the place for some reason.”
“I thought the dragons were just a bunch of fairy tales,” Jolan said.
“Well, so’s the stories about the Lost Territories for all I know,” Morin grinned. “I can tell you one about . . . .”
Chapter 23
The past ten days had brought them from the edges of the Seretian border, into Ekine. For the most part the trip had been peaceful and without any major events worth mentioning, although the late summer storms so common in Seret had caught them on the road and had made the going slow at times. Until they traveled within a days’ ride of Ekine, the storms had made the roads muddy, which made travel slow and arduous, and resulted in days where everyone was soaked to the skin. As they got closer to civilization, the roads changed from bare dirt, to gravel, and finally to stone paved travel routes. Once they reached the stone highway, the rains ceased to impede their travel, and they moved swiftly toward the city and today’s parting.
The rain had resulted in Jolan discovering a new ability, one that he wouldn’t have consciously thought of attempting since it involved actions close to himself and he had decided he needed some guidance before playing around with such things. He could now understand why mages were warned to get proper schooling early lest they trigger some action with dire consequences. The rain had been particularly intense one day and he had been idly thinking as he rode along half awake after a nearly sleepless night that there must be some way to keep the rain off better than the special capes that Asari had purchased back in Trailways. While these worked well enough where they covered him, the gusting wind tended to whip the drops of rain around and find all of the spots that were not properly shielded. Being on horseback didn’t help either. Suddenly he became aware that he was no longer feeling the constant pounding of the rain, nor the leaking of cold water under his collar and down inside his shirt. The discovery jolted him awake and a little experimentation revealed he had unintentionally created a rain shield around himself. There was nothing obvious to see, and it didn’t seem to restrict him in any way, but the drops of cold rain simply failed to touch him. So while the rest of the group continued to suffer, Jolan rode through the rest of the storms in relative comfort.
The long days of travel had honed Jolan’s skills in several areas. He was now a competent horseman, feeling quite comfortable spending the entire day in the saddle, and was able to communicate his wishes to the horse more subtly than a sharp yank of the reins as he had when they started their journey. He was also more than competent in the care of the animals, and had established a rapport with his horse. He was actually fond of the beast, and made sure to bring him appropriate treats when they were available.
Rain or shine, he’d also continued his sword lessons. The days had built up the missing calluses, had hardened yet another group of muscles, and turned him into a swordsman that was just short of marginal. Neither he nor Iart, his instructor, had any misconceptions about his ability. He wasn’t a swordsman. He wasn’t likely to ever become one. But now at least he knew how to hold the weapon, and how to position himself properly. He looked as if he knew how to use the sword rather than appearing totally ignorant. That alone might be worth something. He wasn’t physically exhausted anymore after a few minutes swinging the heavy blade. He had also practiced defense, and was able to block the attacks of a moderately skilled assailant. His own offense was poor, and he would need a great deal more practice before he would be advised to initiate hostilities. There had been noticeable progress, and Jolan was happy that he no longer felt quite as fearful of facing someone with an edged weapon. He’d still go to the pistol if a problem developed and it was available, but a backup was now somewhat available.
Their journey had revealed a great deal about the world in which Jolan found himself. As they traveled toward Ekine, gradually working their way throug
h wilderness, to the outlying ranches, and then into the farm belt, he saw a significant improvement in the state of the inhabitants, but never did a modern society reveal itself. He pegged the society as being nearly equivalent to the early eighteen hundreds on Earth. There was no electricity. There were no gasoline-powered engines. Everything was done by muscle power, human or animal, which limited the scope of activities. Farms, for example, could only become so large before the logistics of labor intensive operations became overwhelming.
Magic made up for the lack of technology in some cases. He’d already seen how medicines created through its use replaced those derived from technological advances. A variety of products relied on some small application of the power and resulted in goods that wouldn’t have otherwise been available. Certain tasks were reserved to those with some small ability with the power. Here in Seret, however, the impacts were not large. While the power was tolerated, it was not actively embraced, causing Jolan to wonder how different things might be in Angon where peaceful use of magic was encouraged. Many of the magically imbued or modified products here in Seret had actually originated in Angon, hence the profitability of Morin’s frequent trips between the two countries.
He hadn’t known what to expect of the city itself. He was therefore very surprised by the scope of the place. He estimated that somewhere between twenty and fifty thousand people lived in Ekine proper. It was a thriving metropolis, with stone and wood buildings that sometimes had as many as three stories. Farms gave way to the more and more frequent residential sections, improving in quality as they moved toward the city center. The business district was extremely large, occupying dozens of blocks, and crowded beyond belief. Markets included both open air vendors and more established brick and mortar buildings.
