by Allan Joyal
Esme gave me a shocked look. “Ron?” she asked.
“Remember that the theory of disease and germs didn’t really exist in the Middle Ages back on Earth. The first doctor to suggest that the washing of hands might improve the number of women to survive childbirth was actually scorned for saying that. And he came around in the eighteen hundreds,” I said. “If you maintain a clean environment we should have success.”
Esme nodded. “I wished I had surgical experience though. What if we need to give someone a cesarean?”
“Let’s not think about that,” I said. “Once we have a good place to stay, perhaps you can study up a bit. But my prayers are for no more major injuries while we travel. We can’t really afford them.”
“Oh dear Lord, yes,” Esme said. “I’ve done all I can for Jeff, but he still could get an infection.”
“Yes, we washed the injury with some of the whiskey we have, and we washed the bandages with whisky as well. It’s the only antiseptic we have,” Natalie said. “I think I’ve found a recipe for one, but it takes a herb I’ve never heard of. Some kind of water lily, but if the reference is accurate, its blue rather than green.”
“A blue water lily?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of one.”
“They only grow in pure spring water,” Shaylin said. “The morning glory lily is said to have great purification properties, but the few locations I’ve heard it grows are high in the Oceanward Mountains.”
“Where are those?” Natalie asked hopefully.
“Follow the Elfwall south, and you’ll see the foothills for them to the west just before you reach Port Regal,” Lawus said. “But I hear that the mountains aren’t safe for humans. Too many monsters call them home.”
“Darn,” Natalie said with an exaggerated snap of her fingers. “I thought I’d get a chance to make my first potion.”
“You’re supposed to be in charge of farming technology,” I pointed out.
“I’ll have to do both. At least until we find someone to take over the potion brewing. Esme struggles with the reading, and no one besides Esme has shown an interest,” Natalie said back firmly.
“I’ll look into what we can do,” I said just as Al trudged up.
“Ron, I need a break,” he whimpered. “Watching those monsters to see if they are getting too close is hard on me.”
“Is anyone back there?” I asked. I stepped away to look towards the back of the caravan, but a gust of wind had kicked up some dust so I could not see anything.
“Aine was back there with me,” Al said tiredly. “And Heather showed up. It was her suggestion that I take a break. I never imagined just watching something like that would be so exhausting. How can you take the stress day after day?”
“I have a wife who loves me and supports me,” I said. “But I should probably head back and check.”
“What about where we are going?” Konstanzia asked. “Shouldn’t you be in front guiding us?”
The cart started to turn to the right. I looked forward and could see that Victoria was following the lead cart. “Victoria?” I shouted.
“We have trees to the north and we’re turning to follow the tree line,” she said. “But I can’t see much in front of Amalya’s cart. The dust is pretty bad.”
“I hope we don’t lose any animals,” I said. “Between the trees and the dust they have ways to get lost.”
Aine ran up. She had her crossbow out, but it was unloaded as she barreled up to the group. When she saw me there she came to a quick halt and offered a sloppy salute. “Sir, the landsharks have turned back.”
“Thank god,” Esme said. “I think their next attack might have killed someone.”
“No, no deaths today. And let’s keep it that way,” I said. “Meanwhile, I better check with Lydia and Hencktor. We need to find a good spot to set up a camp for the night, and I’d like to make camp early so that Esme can follow up on Gertrilla and Jeff.
Chapter 4: Is it Human?
The journey for the next five days seemed to slow to a crawl. Part of the problem was the injuries we had suffered. Jeff might have once been a less than enthusiastic member of our band, but every morning he had helped get the carts set up and the draft animals harnessed. He also was willing to drive any cart when the regular driver needed a break. With him out of the rotation the cart drivers took fewer breaks and the mules would slow down in the afternoons as the drivers got tired and their attention waned.
The bigger loss was Gertrilla. Since the beginning, I had trusted her with handling the herds and training the dogs. We had never lost an animal, but I had no idea how vital Gertrilla was to achieving that result. Corwar did what he could, Mary and Lenoir helped out all the time, and everyone except Esme assisted when they were not handling other duties. Even so, the herd proved difficult for us to handle.
We did not lose any animals, but our progress slowed more as inexperienced people tried to keep the herd moving. Frustrations rose a bit for everyone. Three days after being injured, Gertrilla finally began helping for even an hour at a time. The rest of the group greeted her with the enthusiasm of a garrison being relieved after a long siege.
Even without the loss of Gertrilla’s help, our progress would have slowed. The tree line we followed provided a great guide to the east for the first day and a half, but then it intersected with another tree line that came from the southeast. We halted just before the intersection and sent Lydia, Hencktor and Krysbain forward to scout. They came back to report that the two tree lines were following small streams. Krysbain suggested crossing the northern stream at a ford they had found. He said that on the other side of the stream there was a wide game path we should be able to follow with the carts and wagons.
Unfortunately, the trees were dense enough that the carts and wagons had no trail we could follow to get to the ford. We had to break out the axes and saws and cut a path through the trees.
It was backbreaking work. The trees here were not particularly tall or robust, but it still took an hour of chopping to get a tree to fall, and great care had to be taken to ensure that it did not fall towards anyone or block the path. We had several close calls before we started using ropes to guarantee that the trees fell the direction we wanted.
Once a tree was felled, there was more work. Borlan and Ximenia proved invaluable. They would dig around the stumps and then get two of our more placid cows to drag the stump away. The resulting path was rough, but we were able to inch the carts forward.
On the open plain we were probably averaging three miles per hour in our march. Once we had to start cutting a path through the forest, we were lucky to do three miles in the first day. That left us just a half-mile to the stream. When we camped for the night, Corwar kept the herd back in the meadow.
The next morning all of the men were stiff and tired. We resumed cutting and were able to make better time as the trees thinned out close to the stream. Never-the-less, it was late afternoon when Hencktor brought down the last tree and we looked out over the streambed.
“May we never do that again,” Al said with a sigh as well all took in the sight.
“I just hate leaving all that good wood,” I said. “But at least we are done for now.”
“I think Joelia and Kariy were using a saw to cut up some logs,” Hencktor noted. “It will be nice to have firewood for a few days, and we do have some space in the wagons now.”
I nodded. Krysbain, Aine, and Lydia had been supplementing our food through hunting, and the kids tried to find berries or fruit to collect, but our stores of food had slowly diminished as we continued to march. Kariy kept smiling as she used collected seeds and nuts to help thicken stews and soups, but everyone wondered how long our food would last.
“How long will our food last?” Hencktor finally asked.
“I haven’t asked Kariy the exact rate we are using it,” I said. “But we have done well with the hunting. The big concern is finding a valley early enough. If we can get in a late planting and harvest, it wou
ld help quite a bit.”
“Can we?” Hencktor asked.
“We might be able to,” Natalie said as she walked over and joined us at gazing over the stream. “I’m not an expert, but the more I look around, I’m beginning to think that the winters to the south might be mild enough that we can get some wheat planted and harvested. To have a chance, we’ll have to get it planted in the next sixty days or so. I can’t promise much variety in the meals over the winter though.”
“It will give us something to work on,” I said. “Okay, break’s over, we should cross the stream so we can make camp. I see our kobold friend is enjoying splashing around, and I hate to break up his fun.”
I pointed at the kobold who had accompanied us since we had passed through his abandoned village about seven days before. The creature did not speak a language anyone in our group recognized, but he had saved us more than once with his hoots and howls. We made sure he had food and kept him away from the wagons. I had to wonder if he realized that he’d never return to his tribe. Lydia thought that we had somehow exited the ruins of the empire’s magic school three hundred miles to the east of our entry point.
“Let’s get going,” Hencktor said with a sigh. “It will probably take the rest of the day to get across the ford. At least the game trail is wide. Hopefully it stays that wide.”
We turned back toward our line of carts and wagons. Borlan and Ximenia had just finished getting the last stump dragged out of the path. Amalya waved. “I sent Soldrin to let the herd know. We should start crossing.”
I walked a short distance upstream and then entered the water. It was cool, but not freezing. I waded into the ford, feeling the riverbed beneath my feet. There were a few large rocks, but I did not find anything that I felt could upset or halt a cart. The current was even slow enough that I had no trouble standing in the center while I completed my survey.
“Bring the first cart,” I called out.
Amalya slapped the left mule, and the cart started moving forward. I watched the wheels as it approached the water. Amalya had the cart centered on the ford, and I waded upstream to get out of the way as she crossed through the water.
The cart slipped a little about halfway through the crossing. A rock kicked the left side up and the current started to push the cart. I rushed over to add weight to the left side and get the wheel back in contact with the streambed. After that Amalya coaxed the mules to go a bit faster. The cart rolled up on the bank without losing any goods.
I turned back to see that Hencktor and Al were working with Lawus to get the second cart across the stream. The two men stayed by the cart and made sure the wheels never left the bed as Lawus led it across the water. His daughter, Jesame, giggled when the mule she was riding began to climb out of the water.
The next two hours seemed to be spent in the water getting the two wagons across safely. Their larger size and extra wheels gave the current more ways to push on them. We had one nearly flip before Hencktor, Al, Heather, Cimbra, and I got downstream of it and pushed it back onto the ford. By the time the last cart entered the water we could see the herd coming down the path and catching up to us.
Borlan guided the last cart across the ford with no trouble. But by that time Amalya had sent Soldrin running to report that the game trail climbed out following a narrow ridge. She worried that the cart might not stay on the road.
Al, Hencktor and I jogged up to the front to see the problem. We found that there was a sheer cliff about forty feet high just a half-mile from the river. However a ramp of rock and soil provided access upward for anyone willing to walk the quarter-mile up a narrow path that had a rock wall on one side and a drop back to the valley floor on the other. It looked to be only three feet or so wider than the wagons and I could understand Amalya’s worry.
“We should take them up one at a time,” I said. “Have the driver run the cart from the right side, so they can make sure the mules turn toward the cliff should there be a problem. Then have someone follow behind to watch the wheels and keep them on the road.”
Amalya frowned. “It might make the mules more skittish if they are driven from the right side. They are accustomed to having someone on their left.”
“Add another person,” I suggested. “Has anyone scouted up the path to make sure we want to take this?”
“Soldrin did for me,” Amalya said. “He reported that there are few trees up there, but that he can tell we are in the foothills of some mountains.”
I smiled. “Our last great barrier if the Djin told the truth. From here we’ll head south for a while until the mountains are lower, then we’ll find a pass through the range. We are near the end of our trip.”
“Then let’s get up the hill,” Al said. “I’ll go with Amalya. Ron, let the others know what we are doing.”
Al nodded to Amalya. The young woman frowned, but walked around the mules pulling the lead cart and then coaxed them forward. Al waited for it to start up the hill and then started following. He was directly behind the right wheel.
There was one moment that everyone watching from the ground held their breath. The mules balked and tried to move away from the cliff. Amalya was pushed to the edge of the ramp before she was able to retake control. By then the right wheel had moved at least eighteen inches to the right.
Al noticed immediately. He reached out and picked up the cart. With a mighty heave he pulled it away from the drop. The mules kept moving slowly, and we all let out a huge sigh as the cart turned to the left and vanished onto the bluff above.
Hencktor clapped his hands together. “They showed us how to do it. Lawus, I’ll work with you.”
Heather came over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Cimbra and I can work with Gerit. You should help Verval. That will get the two wagons up the hill.”
I nodded and walked back the short distance to stand near Verval. The man was talking to Victoria and laughing a little as we watched Hencktor assist Lawus in getting a cart safely up the ramp.
“You going to help us?” Verval said. “Do you even know how to drive a wagon?”
“I’ll leave the driving to you and Victoria,” I admitted. “I’ll just make sure the wheels don’t end up off the path. We don’t have a lot of space.”
“I’ve got a good team of mules,” Verval said. “They should stay calm. But let me know if we get close to the edge.”
I nodded and walked to the back of the wagon. Gerit had already started the other wagon moving, and it was climbing the ramp at a steady pace. We were going to wait for it to finish, so I knelt down to look at the axle and wheels. Everything looked good, so I started to stand up and then noticed a print in the soil.
At first I thought someone in the group might have been walking barefoot. However, I noticed that there were only four toes, and there were some strange circular marks in the soil in front of each of the toes. The print itself was a bit smaller than my feet. I was still studying the print when the wagon started moving.
I made sure to keep up, but kept my eye on the ground in between the wheels. I found faint marks that might have been additional tracks. Whoever or whatever had created the prints had been moving up the ramp. I tried to track their progress, but had to look away when we reached the narrowest part.
Verval had been correct and the mules pulled us up the ramp without incident. As the wagon made the turn to head towards the plains, I found two more footprints. This time I could distinguish between the right and left foot. The prints were heading north from the ramp, and I followed them for about ten paces before they faded.
I knelt down by the last one and tried to measure it. Hencktor and Krysbain wandered over as I was still examining the strange footprint.
“What did you find?” Hencktor asked.
“A print of some kind,” I said pointing at the outline I had been examining. “I’d say this was a man, but there are only four toes and there are these circular marks in front of the toes.”
Hencktor had a puzzled look on his face.
“The heel makes me think a human made this, but the toes?”
Krysbain sighed. “I don’t know if it’s human. It’s very unusual. The foot itself is small. And the circles look like claws, but human feet aren’t clawed.”
“Check around for more,” I said. “It’s getting late, and I think we should camp right here. We’re all tired, but I think I’ll ask Cimbra to help with guard duty tonight.”
“You mean you won’t drag her into your bed again,” Krysbain said teasingly. I looked over at the usually grim guard. I respected the man for his expertise and effort, but he never seemed to warm to the group.
“I’ve never dragged her to my bed,” I replied.
“Then it’s some other dark elven woman I’ve seen and heard in your bed,” Krysbain continued. “I’ll say that you set a tough standard. Lenoir wants to know if I can get her to scream out like Cimbra does.”
I felt my face grow warm. “I just try to make her happy.”
“That was what always confused me. I’ll admit when I first joined I was just desperate to escape Saraloncto. Once we left the town and were in the plains, I started to worry. Everyone seemed so naive. I couldn’t imagine how you had survived,” Krysbain said.
“I’ve been with them from the beginning,” Hencktor said. I looked over at him, and he shrugged. “Well almost the beginning. From what Lydia tells me they met me the day after they arrived in Jord. Anyways, they just do things. And they learn fast.”
Krysbain nodded. “I’ve seen that. In fact at times I find myself feeling like I’m the neophyte. This footprint is a great example. I walked up that ramp before any of the carts were brought up, and I missed this completely. Ron noticed it and was able to follow the trail to here.”
“But that’s all I can do,” I said. “I was hoping you could tell us more.”
“It’s a footprint,” Krysbain said sarcastically. His face softened and his voice moderated. “But that’s all I can identify. I’ve never heard of anything similar to this, and I’ve never seen a print like this before. It looks like whoever made this was moving north at a steady pace and probably passed this way a couple of days ago. I’d increase the watch tonight and have our scouts spread out a bit more tomorrow.”
