by B. K. Parent
I had brought Nana’s journal on herbs with me, so once everything else was set up, I reached into my pack carrying the items I would need for the day to get the journal out. My hand brushed against something soft and furry. When I looked in the pack however, I could not see anything, and so thought I must have imagined it. I tied a leather thong through the binding of Nana’s journal and fastened the other end of the thong to the rack containing the herbs, tucking the journal under the bottom shelf. I wanted it handy, but not handy enough that someone could walk off with it. Once everything was set up, I settled in at my turning lathe, and Journeywoman Clarisse wandered off in search of breakfast.
The morning passed slowly with potential customers stopping by, but there was very little buying. Journeywoman Clarisse said this was fairly typical, for folks would wander the fair looking at everything first, and then decide if they wanted to spend their hard earned coin on anything. Business would pick up in the afternoon. I did not mind the slowness of the morning for it allowed me to work on adding to my stock. The wood I had gotten from Master Rollag was a joy to work with. When he stopped by the booth midmorning, I asked him if I might raid his woodpile again.
“Well now lass,” he answered, “I am not sure you can top the sight of your hunting cat with his very own fair badge, but I’m of a mind to purchase one of these puzzle boxes of yours. I might be willing to part with a few coin and free access to the firewood stack.”
I did not want him to think I was an easy mark so we bartered for a bit, but I think he was not working too hard at driving a hard bargain.
The young lad Evan stopped by to pester Journeywoman Clarisse, and I envied their easy camaraderie. Belonging to a guild gave one a family in a sense, and at the very least, like-minded folk and a place to belong. I was also getting a sense that more was going on in the guildhall besides training young glassmakers. I had noticed members of other guilds had quietly gone in and out of the guildhall all morning. Maybe that was quite usual for a fair gathering, but the guildhall seemed a far busier place than I had expected. Occasionally I would catch a bit of conversation as various guild members passed by my booth suggesting the guilds were less than pleased with some edicts that were coming from the capitol, most specifically from the Regent. I was beginning to sense that guilds, though made of more common folk than nobles, wielded some major influence within Sommerhjem, and that was being threatened.
Though rovers were crafters, they had never been part of the guild society. I had wondered about that at times. Da had been a blacksmith and metalworker yet he had neither trained with nor belonged to the Metalworkers Guild. He had learned his craft from his father. I had often wondered what it might have been like to be trained by the Woodworkers Guild and had sometimes wished I might at least spend time with another woodworker. I was mostly self-taught. I am sure there was much I did not know. Maybe some summer I might spend time at the capitol and the main Woodworkers Guildhall. I would have thought there would be other woodworkers at this fair, but so far I had not met one. In my heart of hearts, I sincerely hoped I would not have to go all the way to the capitol this summer to fulfill that wish while trying to find Da so this journey could end. Hopefully, Da would contact me soon, all would be well, we would go back to our village, and then maybe someday I would travel again and see the capitol. But then again, maybe the sun would set at noon.
Journeywoman Clarisse had been right about the afternoon’s busyness, and again while not many folks bought anything, many came by to look. I did get several commissions to do some minor repair work for the next day. By the time the end of fair day horn had blown, I was more than happy to head back to the campsite. There had been no time to venture out to find Casper the blacksmith’s booth, and it did not look like I was going to have time the next day either. Journeywoman Clarisse had asked if I would take the booth all the next day for she was needed by Master Rollag. She said she would be happy to free me up the following day. Since there really was no reasonable way to object to her request, I had agreed, even though I was most anxious to try to connect with those who might know what had happened to Da.
Evening passed all too quickly, and soon it was time to settle in for the night. Several more groups had set up tents in our campsite. One was a couple who were here to attend the fair, and the other tent was occupied by two men who kept to themselves. Hannelone had remarked over dinner that they were an odd pair and, for some reason, they made her uncomfortable. She had been glad for Carz’ company and that of the two rover families. Her uneasiness was contagious, and I was glad it was a cool evening so I could close and lock the doors to the homewagon. I set about getting ready for bed, put a small cook pot out for the Neebings, and was more comfortable when Carz, sensing my unease, curled up right next to me.
The second day of the fair passed swiftly. I finished up the two repair jobs and sold a few small items. Evan came, brought me a meat pie at noon, and stayed awhile. I was grateful for the company. When I returned to the homewagon that night, I found all the lantern globes cleaned of soot. Either someone had been able to get into the locked homewagon and was doing good deeds, or the Neebings liked their gifts each day and were giving me a gift of their own. Since cleaning lantern globes was one of my least favorite chores, I was grateful.
Journeywoman Clarisse shooed me out of the booth close to the noon hour the next day. I now had the afternoon off, so I slung my daypack over my shoulder and across my chest and set off to try to find Casper the blacksmith. He probably had a temporary smithy somewhere within the quadrant our booth was in, so I began to wander up and down the lanes. I had forgotten what a large fair was like, filled with noise and color. All manner and classes of folk were at the fair this day, and the lanes were crowded. I had left most of my meager collection of coin with Journeywoman Clarisse for there were always those at a fair who thought to earn their living by lightening others’ pockets of valuables.
Even though hay had been thrown down on the lanes and paths, the air was still filled with dust. The day was still and there was nary a breeze to move the air. I had gotten directions from Evan on where the blacksmiths were set up on the pretext of needing to get a harness ring mended, and so instead of lingering over the jewel cutter’s booth or taking in a demonstration of wool spinning, I headed straightaway towards the blacksmiths’ area, which proved to be larger than I had anticipated. Here, metal smiths of all kinds had gathered. One of the first smiths I encountered was making very fine knife blades while the smith next to him was creating very fanciful grates and items for the home cook hearth. How was I going to find a blacksmith called Casper in all this? Fortunately, I did not forget caution and instinctively knew better than to draw attention to myself by asking for a blacksmith named Casper. Most of the smiths had signs in front of their booths or temporary smithies, so I just tried to look like a typical fair visitor on a day’s outing.
I had worked my way half way down one of the lanes when I noticed a smithy that was not active. It was all set up, but there was no smoke coming from it and not a soul within. This struck me as quite odd, so I tried to nonchalantly pass by it all the while trying to see if there might be a sign to tell me who should have been there, and then I saw it. The sign read:
Casper Klausman
Blacksmith
Tverdal
There could have been many reasons why Casper the blacksmith was not at his place this day, but I would think that he would have had apprentices or someone who would be there. As I passed by, I noticed a knot of folks had gathered several booths down, so I walked within hearing distance to listen in on what those gathered had to say.
“Stopped by his place this morning to walk to the fair with him and his smithy was closed up tight. Talked to one of his neighbors who was coming this way, and she said there had been a group of hooded men waiting around his smithy late into the night. Couldn’t tell if they were the Mayor’s peacekeepers or what. Didn�
�t think Casper had come home. Can’t imagine why anyone would be after Casper. He is such a good old fellow.”
Another of the gathering spoke up and remarked, “You know, this is not the first time we’ve heard of this type of thing happening. Folks just up and disappearing with none the wiser for what happened to them.”
Just then a group of very loud and rowdy young men rounded the corner making a great deal of noise, and I could no longer hear the conversation. In addition, with the advance of the group of young men, the group I had been listening to split up and scattered to different booths. I thought it best that I move on, not only because it would seem contacting Casper the blacksmith was not going to be possible and the rowdies looked to have mischief on their minds, but also I did not want to get caught up in their nonsense.
Realizing I would now need to find Mistress Fern, and had best do it this day, I headed towards the nearest food vendor to get something to eat before I made the trek into town in search of Wayfarers Market. I found a baker who had just put out small hot loaves of wheat bread, and next to her was a cheese maker. As I reached into my daypack and rooted around for the small pouch that held my coin, my hand brushed against something soft and furry feeling. Once again I looked and yet could see nothing of that nature inside the daypack. The rumbling from my stomach, protesting my taking too long to purchase food, had me putting the mystery of what I had felt in my pack to the back of my mind.
The walk into town was not a long one, and I had a general idea of where Wayfarers Market was. My fair badge must have been enough identification for the town gatekeeper this day, or he was being less vigilant. I noticed that the Regent’s agents were not at either the fair or the town gate this day, so that might have been the reason. Whatever the cause, I was grateful not to have to state my business. I followed the main road towards the old town and soon came to a sign indicating that Wayfarers Market was down a road to my right. This area was certainly an older part of town, for the road narrowed and led me between buildings built close together. The road was cobblestone and somewhat uneven for walking. Soon I crossed under an archway, and the lane opened up into a large square surrounded by buildings with store fronts on the lower levels and what must have been living quarters above. There was a large open area in the middle that at any other time probably held a farmer’s market or other markets during the week. Rovers would set up here, I thought.
Across the square I saw a sign proclaiming the small shop with the green door belonged to one Mistress Fern, Herbalist. I had packed some mountain lavender as an excuse to be heading for her shop, in case anyone asked me my business in Wayfarers Market, but there was little activity in the square. I walked to the front door of Mistress Fern’s shop and pushed it open. The sound of a bell tinkled as I walked in, and a woman’s voice from behind the curtain at the back of the shop called out and said she would be right there. For just a moment I was taken back home to Nana’s stillroom, for the smells and the sights that met me here were so familiar. Bunches of herbs hanging from the rafters, jars of plant material, bottles of creams and potions, all just a bit dusty, all lined up on the shelves.
The woman who drew back the curtain and stepped into the main room of the shop however bore little resemblance to Nana. While not a young woman, she was also certainly not nearly as old as Nana and could definitely not be described as a soft woman. Mistress Fern was tall and willowy with a face that was all planes and angles. It was an interesting face that was looking at me quizzically.
“How may I help you this day, young rover?” she asked politely.
“I have some mountain lavender to sell, and my friend Haakens thought you might be interested,” I said quietly.
A swift change came over Mistress Fern’s face, and she glanced quickly over her shoulder. She motioned that I should come closer and when I was very near said in a normal voice, “I am always interested in mountain lavender. It is so rare in these parts and hard to come by. Let’s see what you have.” Mistress Fern placed her body between the back curtain and me and mouthed, “We are being watched. Careful what you say.”
I handed her the small packets of mountain lavender I had brought with me. “I picked it myself, ma’am. Dried it proper.”
Mistress Fern lifted a small dried leaf out of a packet and held it to her nose. “Ah, there is nothing like the smell of mountain lavender. Do you have other mountain herbs with you?”
“Not on me right now, but I do have more back at my booth at the fair.”
“I am closing up shop tomorrow and spending the day at the fair. Where might I find you?”
“I share a booth with a glassmaker, so we are located next to the Glassmakers Guildhall. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, I am familiar with it. Now would eight copper coins buy me this lovely mountain lavender?”
“I had more in mind of one silver and two coppers. Remember how very rare mountain lavender is,” I replied.
With a bit more haggling, we settled on a silver for the packet of mountain lavender. Much as I wanted to ask her if she knew anything about Da, I dared not say anything with a listener in the back room. Mistress Fern bid me good day and cautioned me to have a safe journey back to the fair. I slipped my silver coin into the hidden pocket in my pants before leaving the herb shop. As I stepped out of the door of the shop, I looked about the square but could see nothing out of place. I set off at a brisk pace since I had been gone longer than I had expected. I had just exited the square and stepped into the shadowy archway when hands grabbed me from the side and dragged me into a narrow opening between two buildings.
Chapter Fifteen
A rough hand clamped over my mouth and a gruff voice whispered in my ear, “Cooperate and you won’t get hurt. Not a sound. Will you keep quiet if I remove my hand?” I nodded. “Good. Now listen carefully. You’re going to walk ahead of us. One sound, one peep, and you’ll be sorry. Try to run and you’ll regret it. Understand?”
I again nodded. I really did not have much choice. From what I could see, both of the men were well-muscled and looked to be in good shape. Both looked capable of causing me bodily harm, and I certainly had no training in fighting. The narrow passage between the buildings afforded very little room to maneuver. It was dimly lit and scarcely wide enough to pass through. The man behind me gave me a rough shove, causing me to stumble and almost fall. As I lurched forward, he grabbed my arm painfully to steady me with the admonishment to be more careful. Maybe he should stop pushing me, I thought. I was surprised that I found myself more angry than frightened. That feeling only lasted until the second man spoke up.
“These rovers are surprisingly easy to catch, aren’t they?” he said, following his words with a menacing laugh. “Sure is an easy way to make a nice bit of coin.”
“Too bad we can’t play with them a bit though. Would be good sport, but I’m not going to cross orders for one such as pays us,” the first man said.
I could feel a shudder go through the hand he had clamped on my shoulder.
“Aye, you have the right of that, my man,” the second man said.
We traveled in silence after that, through a maze of passages between buildings and down narrow alleys, until we halted next to a short stair leading down beneath a building.
“Down the stairs lass,” the first man ordered.
When we reached the bottom, he came up beside me and pushed open the door. He dragged me over the threshold into a dark corridor and pushed me through the first door to the left. The room might once have been a small store room, but this day it was devoid of everything but a chair.
“Sit, and not a word,” the man who had been behind me said.
I had hoped to get a look at my captors but their cloak hoods were pulled up, hiding their faces in shadow. As he reached out to accept the rope his partner was handing him, I did see a long jagged scar on his right hand running from
between his thumb and first finger to his wrist. The second man then walked behind me, grabbed my hands, jerked them back, and tied them while the other man tied my legs to the chair. Struggling only earned me a sharp rap on the head, causing me to see stars.
They had not removed my daypack, and I tried to think of what in the pack might be of help to get me out of here, when I watched in horror as one of the men unfastened the flap and began to reach inside.
“Oh, arrugh,” he exclaimed, “something bit me. What have you got in there anyway?”
“Serves you right!” the other man exclaimed. “You know the rules. No harm, no theft. Come on, the one as wants these rovers will get to this one this night. She’s secure and our patron offers a bonus if we can get more than one rover in a day. Let us be off, my fine fellow, to go earn more easy coin of the realm.”
With that said, the two exited leaving me in darkness. I waited to hear the click of the lock sealing me in. It did not come. Instead I heard the drop of a bar falling into place on the outside of the door. I was now well and truly trapped.
I tested the bonds that held me to the chair and they were tight, allowing very little give. My shoulders were already beginning to ache because of the strain caused by my hands being tied behind my back. Once the door had closed, the darkness was complete, and I was hard pressed to keep panic at bay. I kept struggling against the ropes, trying to free my hands to no avail, when suddenly I stilled. I felt something crawling down my arm.
A shudder of horror ran through me. Who knew what manner of vermin lived in the basements of this older part of Tverdal. I could not decide whether to remain as still as possible, hoping whatever was crawling on me was just passing through and did not intend me for lunch, or to move as much as possible and throw it off. I chose stillness. As I sat there as still as possible, barely breathing, I was overcome with a sudden sense of calm flowing over me like the material of a fine wool cloak. I had a sense that everything was going to be alright. I did not even jump when something began tugging on the ropes that held my hands.
