by B. K. Parent
The Tverdal fair was the first of the big fairs, each lasting five days. The larger towns, all located on what were referred to as royal roads, each held a fair one after another leading to the great gathering fair in the capitol.
We were about half an hour’s ride out from Tverdal, and it was nearing time to find a place for the night, when I spotted a very large tree towering over a grove of trees up ahead. I lightly tapped the reins to signal the horses to increase their speed. The road was wide enough this close to a large town to provide space to draw the homewagon alongside the Jalcones who were in the lead.
“See that grove ahead,” I called, raising my voice over the sound of the wagons, as I pointed toward the tall trees in the distance. “Should we see if that would be a good place to camp?”
Trader Jalcones nodded in agreement and gestured to me to take the lead. I slowed as I got closer and realized that this was the very grove where Da had introduced me to Neebings. I halted the horses at the entrance to the small lane that would lead us there. I climbed down and walked back to talk with the others.
“I think I have heard of this place from my . . .” I paused to think of up a credible reason for knowing this place “. . . grandfather. Do you know it?” I asked.
“Passed it by a few times but have never stopped here. Might it be a good place to spend the night?” asked Trader Jalcones.
“I would like to take a look at it, if you all agree.” I almost told him it was a beautiful place, and when I was here last it had had good grazing and a clear stream, but then I would have had to explain how I knew that. “Clover may have picked up a stone and I need to stop anyway. It might actually be a good place to stay while the fair is on, if we’re not too far from town here.”
“Fine by me,” said Journeywoman Clarisse, and the Jalcones agreed.
When we pulled in we found others there before us, several traders and two rover homewagons. I was going to need the answers to who I was sooner than I thought. Our three wagons pulled into a space at the far end of the clearing, quite close to the large tree. I thought it was almost the same spot my family had camped in all those many years ago. There was comfort in that idea, along with a feeling of great sadness.
By now the four of us had a routine in setting up for the night and helped each other out. The horses were tethered together and water was hauled. The small stream was as crystal clear as I remembered, and Trader Jalcones and Carz set off upstream to try their luck at fishing. It was anyone’s guess as to who would be more successful. Once I had helped gather firewood and started a cook fire in anticipation of a fish dinner, I set off with Mistress Jalcones to see if we could find any early berries for a cobbler. Journeywoman Clarisse said she would stay to tend the fire and watch our wagons.
“I like this idea of yours to stay here for the week,” Mistress Jalcones remarked. “We are only about half an hour from town. Leaving early to get into town and coming back late will make for longer days, but I have never liked the fairgrounds here all that much for camping. So much noise with folks all crowded together, not to mention all those animals. Don’t know why we never thought of it before. I will certainly enjoy camping here much more. Trader Jalcones is so busy during the day with his wheelings and dealings that after one day wandering the fair, I’m usually hoping for the days to slip by quickly so we can get on the road again. Don’t really like these big towns. This way too, I can keep an eye on our camp and enjoy peaceful days while all of you are hard at work. Is Carz going to go in with you, or do you think he might stay here with me?”
“I think he might be like you. One day at the fair and he’ll be more than willing to not go back again. I know it sounds silly, but I’ll ask him.”
“Doesn’t sound silly at all,” Mistress Jalcones replied. “He is smarter than most folks would give him credit for. I enjoy his company. Ah, look there, blueberries and some of them are ripe for the picking.”
When we arrived back at our wagons, Journeywoman Clarisse had a good set of coals glowing in the fire pit and had set some spring tubers and onions in a pot simmering. Mistress Jalcones set about making the cobbler, and I put the ingredients together for some biscuits. Carz and Trader Jalcones returned a bit later with a creel full of small river trout. Carz, I noted, had what looked to me as a somewhat smug look on his face, and I would venture to guess he had been the one to get the most fish. Trader Jalcones did not mention who had, and I was not about to ask.
The moment I had been dreading since I had left home came to pass just as we were cleaning up after dinner. Folks from both the other rover homewagons came over to talk with us. The one who introduced himself as Oscar asked who my folk were. I was ready with an answer and hoped it sounded convincing.
“You’re probably too young to have heard of my grandparents,” I said. “They’ve been off the road for a very long time. My mother married a small landholder way up to the north. My grandparents left the road to help my mother when my Da died. They all passed a few years back of the fever, and my brother took over the land. I had a few choices open. I could’ve stayed with my brother, but his new wife isn’t so fond of me. One of the local lads was courting me, but I wasn’t ready to settle down. I always loved the tales Gramps and Nana would tell of their time on the open road, so I fixed up their old homewagon, packed my goods, and took to the road. I find myself suited to this life much better than farming.”
“Well, it’s a welcome then to the rover’s life,” said Oscar. “We are fewer each year so it’s good to see a young face taking to the road.”
Then he introduced me to his family, and to what turned out to be his brother and his family. While I had not liked lying to them, they seemed to accept my story without question.
“Have you had any hassles while traveling?” Trader Jalcones asked.
“Been stopped by more of the Regent’s agents than I’ve ever wanted to meet. Can’t imagine why they’d be looking for Thorval Pedersen. Knew him and his wife. Nice man. Helped us out one time when our homewagon broke down. And his wife was a fine weaver. Such a loss when she died. Had a little lass if I remember right. Haven’t come across him in a couple of years now that I think about it. Notice too that the rules seem to be changing concerning setting booths up in towns. You had best go in tomorrow and sign in on the fairgrounds. Have it fenced off this year and have to get a permit. Thank goodness they’re not asking for coin for a space on the grounds, or many of us would be heading south tomorrow. Don’t know what all this scrutiny means but you can bet if it comes from the Regent, it will not be good for us commoners. You folks camping here for the week or heading in to the fairgrounds tomorrow?”
“We’re staying here,” answered Trader Jalcones.
“Good choice,” Oscar replied. “We’ll always have someone here to watch the homewagons so maybe we can look after your wagons too.”
“My wife, Hannelore here, will stay back most days also,” stated Trader Jalcones. “I’m feeling better and better about staying here.”
“So, rover lass, show me that homewagon of yours. Let’s make sure it has traveled alright.” When we stepped around back of the homewagon Oscar leaned down and whispered, “You know about the Neebings, don’t you?”
“Yes sir,” I answered. “I have the Neebing door all set up and a gift already in place. Gramps taught me all about that, and this place sure matches a description of one of the places he told me about.”
Chapter Twelve
I checked the Neebing door first thing upon awakening and inside the tiny room was a polished stone of extraordinary beauty. I had never seen the like. At first it had appeared black, but when I held it up to the sunlight, there were tiny specks of fire within it in reds, oranges, and yellows. It felt warm in my hand, even though the morning was quite cool. I tucked it in the hidden pocket inside my pants where I kept the increasingly small amount of coin I had. I chose a pair
of tiny goblets and set them out so I would remember to put them in the Neebing room this night. With other rovers in the camping area, I could imagine one of them leaving the stone as part of the joke for children, and wet behind the ears rovers, but I wanted to believe it had been the Neebings who had left the stone. My musing was interrupted by a knock at the back door and Journeywoman Clarisse’s voice calling a “hello”. I walked to the back of the homewagon and let her in.
“I have a proposition for you,” she began.
I gave her an “I’m listening” look so she continued as I motioned her to a seat. As she began to speak, Carz sat and cocked his head, ears forward as if he was paying rapt attention to her every word.
“I have a spot reserved at the edge of the Glassmakers Guild’s area. I hope to sell sun catchers and other small glass items. You have yet to check in and be assigned a spot. Since it is hard to handle a booth alone all day, I was wondering if you might be interested in sharing my spot. We could use your cart and an additional table from my wagon to display both of our goods and watch out for each other’s wares. This way you get a much better space at the fair, and we both get some freedom to wander while not worrying about our booths. Also, the guild will have someone watching their area at night so our wares will be safer. What do you think?”
“That sounds like a very workable idea,” I replied as calmly as I could, though inside I was very excited.
I had worried about how I was going to take care of my booth and still be able to leave it to seek out Casper the blacksmith. I hoped he would set up a temporary smithy at the fair, but how I would get away to find him was a question that had been plaguing me. I had not wanted to think about trying to find Casper the blacksmith at his smithy after the fair closed at dusk. Wandering the streets and alleys of a strange town after dark was foolish at best, and depending on what part of town you were in, dangerous. Sharing a booth with Journeywoman Clarisse would afford me some freedom I had not anticipated. I only hoped that if Da were here he would find me near the Glassmakers Guildhall and not just look for me in the less desirable selling spots.
“This day, let’s go to the fairgrounds and get set up,” she suggested.
As she moved to stand up, Carz moved to her side and placed a paw on her knee. He looked at her, made a soft burript sound, turned, jumped up on my bed, and began to wash himself. I wondered what that had been about. It was as if he had given his approval to either Journeywoman Clarisse or her offer. Later, I was not surprised when he jumped up onto her wagon as we began to head into town. Trust him to find a cushy ride while I walked, leading Clover who was pulling my cart and eating dust.
The road into town, though wide, was packed with wagons of all descriptions, folks pulling hand carts, walkers carrying packs, riders, pack animals and assorted other animals ranging from goats to oxen, all heading to the fair. I even saw a small lad trying to herd a gaggle of geese with the help of his half-grown border dog, with only some success. The whole dusty procession slowed to a grinding halt as we neared the gate to the fair.
“Looks like a checkpoint,” Journeywoman Clarisse remarked.
I had tied Clover to the back of Journeywoman Clarisse’s wagon and climbed aboard once we had come to a stop. It looked like the line would be moving at a snail’s pace.
“They really should have more than one place to enter or more gatekeepers checking folks in. At the rate this line is moving, we should have packed dinner,” Journeywoman Clarisse complained.
Sitting there waiting gave me a chance to take in both a view of the fairgrounds and part of the town. Tverdal was originally built as a walled town but time and prosperity had expanded it outside its walls. The old town could be clearly seen perched atop a hill with the newer parts of town sprawled at its base. Built a short distance from the deep-channeled Travers River, the town was in an ideal location to be a crossroads for both land and river travel and trade. The Travers was very navigable to the port of Willing on the coast and provided an easy way to move goods from the sea to the interior and back. Many merchants and guilds had headquarters in Tverdal.
The town itself was built mostly of local stone of a light gray color. Most of the dwellings were one story and of similar design. The whole town would have looked quite dingy on a gloomy day were it not for the colorful doors and shutters, each different from their neighbors, and the window boxes filled with a profusion of flowers and green plants. The small lawns were neat and well kept, and the streets clean and well swept. I did not know if this was usual, or if the townsfolk had spiffed up just for the fair.
“Now that’s odd,” Journeywoman Clarisse remarked, as we drew closer to the checkpoint. “I would expect to see men and women in the mayor’s livery at the check-in gate, but it is not the custom to have some of the Regent’s agents there as well. Notice that they are not actually doing the checking in, but are very close by. Let’s continue to stick together,” Journeywoman Clarisse suggested. “Stay with me in my wagon and we’ll check in at the same time. I can give them our site information.”
Since the sight of the Regent’s agents had caused my heart to beat a little faster, I readily agreed.
An officious-looking man strutted up to Journeywoman Clarisse’s wagon when we pulled up to the gate. “I need to know your names, how many in your party, descriptions of folks, goods, and services. Quickly now, I don’t have all day.”
Journeywoman Clarisse drew herself up, took on the air of someone used to dealing with pompous underlings, and announced, “I am Journeywoman Clarisse of the Glassmakers Guild. My space has been reserved in their section of the fair. I deal in small glass objects and small stained glass. This is rover Nissa Anissasdatter, a worker in fine wood who will be sharing my reserved space.”
“Are there any others in your party who will be attending or working the fair?”
Journeywoman Clarisse got a small smile on her lips which I do not think the official noticed, nor did he notice the mischievous twinkle in her eye when she announced that yes, there was one more in our party.
“Description, and make it quick,” he snapped.
“One male, medium height, silver haired, serves as security and jack-of-all-work.”
“Age?”
“Never asked,” came her reply.
The officious man looked up, as if he were going to ask more questions, and then was distracted by the young border pup that almost bowled him over chasing an errant goose. Recovering his balance, he handed us a chit of paper and told us to stop at the first booth inside the gate to pick up our identification badges which we were to wear at all times while within the fairgrounds.
I had to cover my mouth to muffle the laugh that just could not be kept inside as I looked down at Carz who was lying at our feet out of sight. It would probably not do to irritate this self-important buffoon or draw too much attention to ourselves. We moved through the gate, and I stepped down and handed the harried woman behind the counter our chit. She in turn handed me three thin metal badges, round in shape, stamped with the town crest. There was an oval opening at the top and the bottom so you could fasten the badge to your clothing by stitching it on, put it on a leather thong, or slide it on your belt. As soon as we were set up, I was going to fasten mine on a leather thong to wear around my neck and would put Carz’ on his collar, which he reluctantly agreed to wear when we were among a lot of folks. It really was not safe for him to be in a town or village without a collar, for I worried someone would mistake him for a wild hunting cat and try to trap or kill him.
Beyond the gate, the fair was arranged in a grid pattern with well-defined lanes and crossroads. There were even directional signs at each intersection. While not as packed as it would be by nightfall, booths and tents were quickly defining the space. The fair was also divided up into quadrants of interest. We were heading towards the section that housed the service and craft booths. There were
also areas that specialized in food, agriculture, animals, and entertainment. I followed Journeywoman Clarisse down the first lane to the left, and then on to the second lane to the right. Already the air was filled with the haze of smoke and dust, the smells of animals and folk, and other more elusive scents. The lane was lined on either side with both semi-permanent buildings and spaces where folks were setting up booths and work areas. As we approached the Glassmakers Guildhall, a young apprentice directed Journeywoman Clarisse to an open space beyond the guildhall.
“So Evan, you young rascal, they have you directing traffic this year, do they?” she said to the young man. “Probably beats being on bellows duty.”
“Aye,” he retorted. “I’m also supposed to help you and others set up. How are you going to do this?”
“I’ll pull my wagon through and park it behind, and then you can help Nissa and I set up her booth. Have they got a place for the horses set up out back?”
“All set. They have the first-year apprentices lined up to take care of feeding and mucking duty, for which they are less than overjoyed.”
Journeywoman Clarissa laughed and remarked she remembered that job all too well. After Clover pulled the cart into position, I unhitched her and led her out behind the guildhall where there was an enclosed open space. Evan directed me to a back corner which held a drinking trough, hay bales, and a place to tie the horses. He offered to settle the horses in, so I went back and Journeywoman Clarisse and I set up the booth. When it was finished to our satisfaction, Journeywoman Clarisse excused herself and said she had business in the guildhall that would take her a few hours. Since I had not come prepared with a reason to seek out Casper the blacksmith, nor figured that I would have the opportunity to do so this day, I was left with time on my hands.
