Along this portion of their way, the forest was thick and the path narrowed, though it was well-marked, easy, and unusually flat by comparison to the surrounding lands. It was a quiet place, too, as if the shade had a sleepy quality to it, deep and cool. Robby and the others, tired though they were, felt their spirits lighten somewhat in the pleasant wood. Coming around a bend, they arrived at a fork in the path where there was a guidepost with two signs. There, Ullin waited for the others to catch up and gather around. They did so, remaining in their saddles, and they examined the signs, posted in the middle of the fork, one pointing one way, and the other pointing the other way. On the one pointing left was carved:
Free Way
to
Redwater Gorge Crossing
45 miles
And on the other sign, pointing to the right-hand way, was written:
Toll Way
to
Redwater Gorge Crossing
15 miles
Ashlord looked from one sign to the other in consideration.
"What do you think?" asked Ullin. "Might it be a Damar road?"
"Very strange," Ashlord replied. "Why would the Damar have a toll on such an out-of-the-way path when they have none on the crowded and well-used roads?"
"Maybe it's a private way," Sheila suggested.
"An' how much could they be askin' for it?" Billy put in. "I brung a few coin."
"Me, too," said Ibin.
"Me, too," said Robby, fingering his purse with one hand and running his other along the lower hem of his vest where the seven special coins were sewn in. "But why isn't there a gate?"
"Strange, indeed," Ashlord repeated. "I'm not sure I trust these signs."
"But if they are true, it could save us a couple of days," said Ullin.
"Look yonder!" Billy motioned at the right-hand path.
Coming down the path was a figure, thin and frail-looking, moving slowly toward them with small careful steps and leaning on a staff as he approached. Even with it, the man seemed to have trouble keeping his balance. He was dressed in a long brown cloak that reached to his ankles and was buttoned up to his neck where a hood flopped down about his barely visible ruddy face. He had unusually short arms, and the belt around the cloak was strapped about where a normal person's elbows would hang. He waved to them with a tiny hand on the end of a stubby arm.
"Ho, there, fellow travelers!"
"Greetings to you," replied Ullin, getting down from his horse. "Do you come from the direction of Redwater Gorge?"
"Aye, indeed, young feller," said the stranger as he entered the fork. He stopped in front of Ullin and caught his breath. "A long walk for me! Do ye go that way?"
"Yes. And we are considering whether we can afford the Damar toll."
"Oh it is not a Damar way," said the figure. "It belongs to Herbert."
"Who?"
"Herbert?"
"Herbert the Blue. It is his lands and the lands of his people through which this way goes."
"Oh." Ullin glanced at Ashlord.
"Never heard of him," said Ashlord to Ullin.
"And what of the toll?" Robby asked. "Is it much?"
"Aye, for one such as I it is a ransom! But as ye can see, I must move too carefully to take the long way, for it is hilly and is crossed by rocky streams. At least this way is smooth and has good stone or wooden bridges."
"But what of the toll?"
"A ransom to me, as I said, being but a poor creature. I had to borrow the amount to make the trip. Herbert takes a copper mite for every shoe!"
"A mite? How much is 'at?" Billy asked.
"A mite? Why it's one-twelfth a Damar shilling, or one-fiftieth a silver ounce of Duinnor."
"About a half-penny," Robby said. "That'd be about two—"
Robby almost said "two Eastlands bits" but caught himself, not wanting to give away their home. "We can afford that."
"Well, if ye have it, it may be worth the spending for the ease of the way," replied the stranger.
"But where is the gate? Where is the toll collected?" asked Sheila.
"Oh, it is at a bridge about halfway," said the stranger, resuming his way past them. "If ye don't like the way and don't want to pay, ye can turn around and take the rougher ground."
He ambled on with his odd way of shuffling along, and was soon gone from sight.
"Well?" Billy asked the group.
"Something, I don't know, shifty about that man," Sheila said.
"I agree," nodded Ashlord.
"We have ample the toll," put in Robby. "And what if it may save us a day or two?"
"So, what d'we stand to lose, then, but a couple of bits?" asked Billy.
Ullin nodded to Ashlord.
"Very well," he sighed. "But let us be sharp! I sense some foolery hereabouts."
The rest hardly paid attention as they steered onto the right fork. Just as was told, the way was easy with only gentle rises and falls, and with well-made bridges of stone and wood that crossed the many streams they encountered. It seemed no time at all before they came upon a post with a sign on which was written:
10 Miles
to
Redwater Gorge Crossing
Toll Gate Ahead
And it was not long after that they did indeed come to a small wooden bridge, made of posts and planks, with a simple toll gate before it. Nearby was a sign in the shape of an arrow pointed down at an iron box chained to the signpost.
One Mite per Shoe
Or Go Back the Way Ye Came
Cheaters Will Be Fined!
"Allow me!" Billy jumped down from his horse and loosened his purse. "Will two silver bits cover us all?"
"For the six of us," replied Robby. Billy nodded and tossed two coins into the box. He then hoisted up the toll bar so that everyone could pass through.
"A trusting sort, this Herbert the Blue," commented Ullin.
"Too trusting, if you ask me," returned Ashlord.
Soon Billy led his horse through and lowered the bar back into place and rode up behind the pack animals.
"When we get to the gorge, do you think there will be Damar guarding the bridge there?" Robby asked Ashlord.
"Most likely. We may need those papers your grandfather provided, though I would prefer not to use them."
"An' how far from thar 'til we get on into the plains?"
"Two days. Three, maybe."
By now, the afternoon sun was long and low and the forest shadows deeper and cooler. Perhaps it was the calming quiet of the woodlands, or maybe it was the ease of the way which gave their fatigue some chance to catch up with them, but all grew sleepy and even the horses slowed, their heads low. Ashlord, too, felt an unusual weariness settle upon him, forming a great desire to stop and ponder over a lit pipe. Still, they moved on. When Ullin yawned, all those behind him did, too, each in turn one after the other, except Ashlord.
Sheila considered asking if they should make camp, but held herself back, not wanting the only girl in the company to make the suggestion. She heard Billy yawn once again behind her.
"Oh, me!" he said. "Kinda drowsy, I reckon."
"Perhaps we should stop and make camp," Robby suggested to Ullin. Ashlord heard this and allowed his horse to come to a halt.
"The day is nearly done," he said. "Perhaps it is time to rest. A cold supper, no fire, somewhere away from the path."
He dismounted, and the others did likewise and followed into the trees where they soon came into a small clearing. As they unburdened the pack animals and stacked the packs and saddles and undid their bedrolls, they could hardly speak a word that was not interrupted by a yawn or even two. Ashlord chose a tree to sit against and was drawing the first puff from his pipe when the last of his companions slipped into slumber.
"A peaceful place," Ashlord muttered. "Strangely calming."
So peaceful, he noticed, that there was hardly a snore to be heard among his companions. And so easy and deep into his thoughts did Ashlord float that he hardly heard
the little Poof! that sounded nearby, nor did he at first notice the odd glow behind him that quickly dissipated. But when it sounded again, then again, it finally reached his attention, and, alarmed, he immediately sprang to his feet.
"Ye have cheated!" cried a voice behind him. This voice, so shrill and strange, immediately woke the others, and, blinking and rubbing their eyes, they looked with disbelief and wonder at the crowd that surrounded them. Little men, not much more than four feet tall, stood all about the clearing. They were dressed in brightly colored breeches and vests, some with little jackets of scarlet, others in green or gold or yellow or purple, with buckled shoes below and shiny black hats above, some with gay feathers and others with brass buckles above the brim. Robby counted twenty-five of them before being distracted by one dressed in sky-blue who stepped out from the rest. He stood with his lower lip jutting out from his freckled face and his arms crossed. The others stood likewise, or with their thumbs in their belts.
"I say: Ye have cheated! Ye must pay the full amount of the toll to pass this way!"
"We paid at the toll gate," Robby said, hardly believing the spunk of the little fellow.
"I tossed the coins into the iron box meself!" said Billy, affronted by the accusation.
"There must be some misunderstanding," Ullin offered, smiling at the little folk.
The blue-dressed one stepped forward and stood on a log to give himself some greater height.
"Misunderstanding, eh? Are these the coin of yer payment?" he held up two coins.
"Yes, they are," stated Billy, now crossing his own arms.
"Did ye think we would not count? Ye must pay the toll!"
"My apologies, sir," Robby said, stepping in front of Billy. "It was I who did the figuring. Perhaps I did not know the right amount to give in our coin for the amount you ask in yours. What is the worth of a mite in Realm silver?"
"One-sixth Realm silver, it is!"
"Is that not two silvers you hold there?"
"Of course, it is."
"Are there not six of us, then?" Robby asked with some confusion. "Twelve feet in all? And so, there you have twelve mites."
"Twelve feet? Twelve feet!" the little man nearly whistled, he screeched so high and nearly fell off of the log, so agitated he became, while all the others of his kind set to muttering and mumbling, and some even stamped their feet with impatience.
"Twelve feet!" he shrieked again while Robby, taken aback, looked to his companions in embarrassment and with some little anger beginning to boil within him.
"I don't understand."
"We do not count feet, ye silly creature! If we counted feet we would have to count every bug and flea, every slug and snail and ant, every chigger and fly that came along. Why, we would be picking yer hair and combing yer mane for lice and counting from here to doomsday! Forever it would take us to count all the mites!"
At this some of the little ones began to snigger and giggle, elbowing each other and winking. "Count all the mites! Get it? All the mites? Hee-hee-har-har-har!"
A glare from their leader stifled their mirth, and they bit their lips to halt their glee, trying to screw serious expressions back onto their faces.
"We count shoes!" he stated to Robby. "Shoes! Did ye not read the sign?"
"Yes, but we're wearing only two shoes each, including boots!" Robby countered.
"Do ye take me, Herbert the Blue, for a fool? For a nincompoop! For an ignoramus who does not know numbers!"
"Well, if you must know," whispered someone behind him, followed by some giggles and elbowing.
"Millithorpe! Millithorpe!"
"Oh, oh!" A wee man with spectacles, a green waistcoat, and an arm full of scrolls and parchments stepped up from the others. "Yes? Yes, Herbert?"
"Millithorpe! Did ye not give me a proper count?"
"Why, yes. Yes, of course. I did, indeed. Yes. I counted with care, sir. No one can count so as I can count! A mark for every one, added up, checked again, counted over. You know how thorough I am in these matters. Why, I even—"
"Yes, yes! Show me yer counting."
"Oh! Of course. Right here it is! Oh, my!" Millithorpe in his nervousness fumbled his bundles, dropped nearly every one, and more as he tried to pick them up.
"The count!"
"Yes. Here it is!"
"Show me!"
Millithorpe unfurled a long scroll.
"See? One with two, here. And two, likewise, making six. And six with six, here, with the rest making a score and a dozen, and two with four, making eight, with the previous, making two-score and four. And here is the second counting, making the same as the first," Millithorpe concluded as he got to the bottom of the length of scroll.
"Oh, oh be careful!" he cried as Herbert snatched it from his hands and held it up for Robby to see. Robby noted the many hen-scratches, the places where tick-marks were inked out and rewritten again, the stick-horse drawings along the margins, and the number, written with an exaggerated flourish, at the very bottom.
"Forty-four? Forty-four!" Robby exclaimed.
"Why, that includes the horses!" Ullin protested.
"Just so!" retorted Herbert. "Of course. Do they not wear shoes?"
Ashlord rolled his eyes, and Ullin shook his head reaching for his purse, saying, "Very well, then. How much remains to be paid in Realm silver?"
"Er, well, it'll be, er, Millithorpe! Tell them how much it is!"
"Yes, Herbert. Well. Let's see. Two mites as to one sixth Realm shilling, given forty-four less twelve, as one-score, one dozen shoes, no, wait. Take away...hmm."
"Will three more shillings pay the toll fee?" Robby asked.
"Why, yes, I would say. That is, yes, but—"
"Well, for the love of peace, take these!" Ullin held out three coins. Millithorpe took them, and examined them with care, then nodded to Herbert.
"Good. Now, then," Herbert said. "Before we leave ye to yer rest, there is just the matter of the fine."
"Fine?"
"What fine?"
Herbert rolled up his eyes in a mocking way.
"The rules were clearly stated: Cheaters Will Be Fined."
"But we paid!" Billy said, angrily.
"Oh, good grief!" Sheila uttered, throwing up her hands.
"How much is the fine?" Robby asked sternly.
"Millithorpe! The amount of the fine!"
Millithorpe, who had almost managed to get his scrolls rolled up again, now dropped them once more and hurried back over to Herbert.
"Oh, that's already figured, just here. No, wait, not that one, either," he patted his vest pocket, then his coat pockets, drawing out bits of parchment and scraps of paper until he at last found the right one. "Aha! Here it is. A complete list."
"Well? Read it out and let's be on with it!" Herbert ordered, giving a nod to the others, who gathered in closer.
"One pack and contents..."
"Ooh, here's one!" said a little yellow-vested one, darting over to the company's pile of packs. He put one hand on a strap, then snapped his fingers and POP!, he and the pack disappeared in a spray of glowing bubbles that quickly dissipated.
"What the...!" Billy cried.
Millithorpe read on.
"...and another pack and contents for measure..."
Pushing through, another little man grabbed another pack as big as he. "Got it!" he cried, and then vanished into a fountain of fading sparkles.
"Hold on there!" cried Ullin.
"This is thievery!" cried Robby.
"How dare ye!" said Herbert, crossing his arms.
"...two fine saddles," Millithorpe read, and before Ibin could block them, two more little ones popped away with a saddle each.
"Pixies!" cried Ashlord, lunging forward. "Grab them! Get hold of one!"
But they were too quick for Ashlord, and in a crackle of snapping fingers and blue bubbly glows, the crowd disappeared, leaving the company stumbling over each other as they tried to take hold of the last one, but only getting armf
uls of fading twinkling light.
POP!
Herbert reappeared, standing on a nearby tree limb.
"Ye haven't fully paid. Read on, Millithorpe!" He snapped his fingers as Ullin hurried at him and, with a POP!, he was gone before Ullin could grab him.
POP! Millithorpe reappeared, at some distance and called out, "One good blanket!"
POP!
"...four sharp swords..."
POP! POP! POP! POP!
"...two strong horses..."
POP! POP!
Each time, Robby and the others tried to lay a hold onto the impish fellows, but with no luck as their belongings quickly dwindled away.
"...one brass buckle..."
POP! POP! Ibin's belt fell away, and, with out its support, his drawers dropped to his ankles.
"...and one sturdy walking stick!"
POP! Robby quickly undid Swyncraff and straightened it stiff. "Take this one, then!" he shouted at the orange-jacketed pixie who was reaching for Ashlord's walking stick. He hesitated, eyeing Robby suspiciously, then he looked at Swyncraff.
"Go on, if you must have one," Robby encouraged. "It's stronger than that one there."
"Yes, hmm. It appears so. I'll take it, then!"
As soon as he put his hand on it, Swyncraff snaked around the pixie's arm and held fast with Robby clutching the other end.
"Let go! Let go!" the pixie screamed.
The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door) Page 39
