The Taleweaver
The caravan

Arthur gazedat the road from atop his horse. It had taken a day or two to getused to riding again, and he ached in places he didn't remember hadmuscles.

There was asmell of travel. The distinct odor of sweat, horse and earth, eventhough none of the last could be found on the road. That was asmeticulously clean as the streets in Verd. As if it was nothing butan extension to those streets. At close to twenty meters wide itlooked strangely deserted as they slowly added kilometer afterkilometer to the days travel. The road looked more out of place here.A glittering white line contrasting with everything as it cut throughfarmlands and fields with grazing horses and cattle.

By nowArthur understood why they used lampsas a way to measure shorter distances here. The lampposts were stilllining the road making traveling in the evening a pleasantexperience.

Arthurrecognized the uniform ahead of him and rode to catch up with theescort captain.

"CaptainLaiden."

"M'lord?"

Arthur chosenot to visibly notice the stiff use of a title he didn't have. Itwas, he guessed, just Trindai Laiden's way of speaking.

"Iwonder ... road good quality many... ah, standard unit time?"Arthur hoped the captain would be able to understand the question.

Trindailooked back, and Arthur could see him trying to make out the meaningof the words.

"Fourdays, M'lord."

Thatanswered the question, but if Arthur wanted to expand on theconversation he needed Harbend. Sighing Arthur gave up the attempt tosocialize and fell back to the wagon he shared with Harbend. It wouldbe a long journey if he didn't learn some more De Vhatic. Longin a way he'd need time to accept, time suddenly available only toidle away. A far cry from his crammed schedule where each minute wasa resource to be used for the benefit of Arthur Wallman in his roleas an industry but all too seldom for himself. Now all he could dowas to sit in his saddle and mentally try to scratch the itch ofinactivity.

Beenscratching it since I met Harbend, he admitted.

Heremembered the first of the meetings with Harbend when the caravanbecame a possibility. He recalled the flowers drooping lower to thetable as the evening proceeded while his trust in the manHarbend Garak rose. Of course he didn't trust the businessmanHarbend Garak, but then he never trusted any businessman implicitly.

Still,Harbend, even when lying had conferred truth and a trust that reachedto Arthur.

It had,Arthur mused as he rode on, been the starting moment of a growingfriendship.

A few dayslater Harbend watched as Arthur rode back along the road.

Youknow how to handle a horse, but you've never fought from horseback.

It was alltoo clear Arthur came from a very different world were such skillsweren't much in demand. Harbend wistfully wondered what such a placewould be like.

For tenyears now he'd been a trader and a traveler. Had seen great Rhuinwith their black skinned, proud people, taken ship to ancient Kenlad.Even had a short glimpse of powerful Khanati before trading his wayback west and then north, through the petty states west of Kenlad andthen Ira, where magic was as mundane as any other craft. Followed theold caravan route to Kastari and settled there for a season.

He'd enjoyedthe sight of the great beasts they tamed there, but trade was why hetraveled, and apart from the busy trade around the great iron squarein the capital where metals magically arrived from far away Brakathey didn't show much interest in his goods.

He rode hishorses through Chach, declining Chach with their knightly idealsconfronting an ever changing world inevitably breaking over theirborders causing outbursts of civil war that had come and gone foralmost two hundred years. There had been an uneasy peace when hebought passage across the Narrow Sea.

He journeyedthrough the southern De Vhatic states paying only token obedience tothe capital of Keen and then he entered the main network of roadsalong which Keen ruled supreme.

Brought upin a nation part island and part mainland colonies he settled down inHasselden, the southernmost port in Keen. Somany years ago.

He had,Harbend realized glumly, stayed in one place for far too long, andthen sudden elation soared through him. He was on the road again.

He shotArthur another glance. They were both saddle sore during the firstfew days, but Arthur hid his grimaces almost as fast as Harbend did,and now none of them rode with any visible discomfort.

Harbend felthis horse move under him. She was tiring. He dismounted and climbedthe reserve a groom had already made ready for him.

Closeto Roadbreak now.

The mainroad ended there at one end of the small town and on the other sidelay the former duchy of Vimarin. He needed to talk with Arthur aboutit.

"Friend,over here," he called.

Arthur rodecloser and used the pause to change horses himself. "Yes?"

"Overthere is Roadbreak."

"Doesn'tit have a name in De Vhatic?" Arthur asked nonplussed.

Harbendthought for a moment. "Yes, yes, I guess so, but it istranslated into Khi as well. Known for what it is rather than itsname." He shrugged. "Anyway, you can see the telegraph fromhere." Harbend pointed to the black and yellow squares clearlyseen even from this distance.

Arthursquinted to see better. "I should have brought a pair ofbinoculars," he complained.

"Binoculars?"

"Eh,the equipment you use to read the telegraphs with, but portable."

"I haveone." Harbend dismounted and walked to his remount. The groomhad only begun to remove the harness and it was still saddled.Harbend opened a pocket on the saddlebags and returned with a pair offield glasses.

"Costme a fortune," he said as he gave them to Arthur.

Arthur putthem to his eyes and looked in the direction Harbend pointed. "Ah,I see them now. Your eyes are better than mine."

Harbendshook his head. That was an impossibility. A man had to be half blindif he didn't see the telegraph from this distance. It was easy to seebeside... He mentally apologized to Arthur. A long line of brightlyyellow trees grew behind the telegraph.

"Yousee it now?"

"Yes,even without the glasses. The apple trees fooled me, but now when Iknow where it is I can almost see the pattern with my bare eyes."

"How doyou see they are apple trees?" Harbend was genuinely shocked.

"Thatpale yellow just has to be summer fruit."

Harbend wasstill shocked.

"Or, itcould be the wind blowing from that direction and the entire roadstinks of cider. They've got a brewery over there." Arthur gaveHarbend a friendly clap on his shoulder and grinned.

Harbendfrowned. Then he caught the faint scent of sweet apples. He mounted,grinning back at Arthur.

"Anyway,"he said, "the town marks the end of the roads you are used to.From there on the roads are battered by weather and use and in poorcondition. No more well kept road inns each half a day. We shall needto tie up our cargo and I will buy more horses and wagons." Hepointed eastward and put his horse in motion, cold saddle creakingunder him. "That is the last proper breeding ground this side ofthe mountains and we shall have to buy grain and other food as well."

Arthurnodded. "Want me to talk with the escort captain?"

"Pleasedo. I have a shopping list to write."

Roadbreakturned out to be a dirty, smelly but rather lively place. Smallerthan Arthur expected a town to be. Stone buildings dominated thecenter. A wall circled them and from the gates, like two long arms,rows of one and two stories wooden houses stretched outwards alongthe road running through the town.

Withtownspeople, farmers and several soldiers in yellow and green millingaround Arthur almost missed the organized elegance of Verd. A feelingof unease clung to the town like rain in autumn though, and he notedalmost all of the soldiers were dressed like those outside the spaceport. Inquisition troops. It did make sense in an uncomfortable way.

Here he cameto a border town and if magic was banned in Keen then that implied itwasn't banned somewhere else. Now he stared at such a thin linebetween Keen and a potential somewhere else.

The sun wassetting when they reached the town and Harbend hurried to make surethey all got rooms in the inns. Arthur wondered why everyone was insuch a hurry, but after dusk, when the lamplights he'd expecteddidn't come on apart from a few blocks surrounding the road innsupporting the telegraph on its roof, he understood. The streets weredark. Had it not been for the moon he'd have been hard pressed to seewhere he put his feet. He never strayed from the main street andafter a short while climbed the stairs to the porch outside the innwhere he was to spend the night.

The escortcaptain sat draped over a chair staring into the darkness. Theyexchanged a few polite words of greetings.

Arthurpicked a chair for himself at the other side of the front doors.Sitting down weariness crept up his legs. A long day, riding andwalking, riding and walking. He snorted at himself. It had been along eightday. There it was.

I'malready starting to think in eightdays rather than weeks, and eachday is longer as well. Twenty five hours and thirty six minutes to beexact. Three hundred and sixty of those to a year. A bit more to beexact.

Every eightyears they had to add an extra day. He assumed that was one possiblereason they were so fond of the number eight.

Stretchinghis legs he bent his neck to get rid of the stiffness. Almost twentyyears since he demanded this much of his body.

ButI haven't forgotten, and that made him feel at least alittle bit proud of himself. Untrained still, but weeks on the movewould change that. He'd forced himself on Harbend and didn't want tobe the one who delayed the caravan. That there wouldn't ever havebeen one without his silver and gold didn't matter.

Starsglimmered above him. One of them was new, man made, but he'd nevercared to learn which one was Theta 47. He probably ought to learn. Aslong as he didn't travel too far east it should always pointapproximately to the south, placed in geostationary orbit around theequator as it was.

Settlingback in his chair, he stayed for a while, allowing the day's travelto drain out of him. It wasn't until he started to feel stiff fromthe cold that he rose and stumbled in through the doorway. He enteredalmost at the foot of the stairs to the second floor but chose thenarrow corridor beside them and came into the tavern.

The room wassmaller than he had suspected, with only six tables and three or fourchairs around each of them. He saw Harbend at one and sat down besidehim. The merchant had almost finished his meal and didn't seem to bein a mood for talking, so Arthur waved for the innkeeper, pointed atHarbend's bowl and ordered the same. When the food finally arrivedHarbend had already left, and Arthur ate his evening meal in silence.

Harbendgrowled. They'd lost a full day in Roadbreak and when the horsesfinally arrived they were fewer than he'd hoped for. Now he was leftwith ten new wagons and only twenty new horses. He'd need anothertwenty, but those couldn't be brought in before another two days hadpassed, and that was time he didn't have.

He'd beforced to take his chances and buy horses as they passed farms, buthe didn't dare to stay much longer. He was an unknown foreigner here,much more so than in Verd, and if this town was anything likeHasselden then the ever present Inquisition was probably asunpopular. Sooner or later either someone from the local populationor a soldier would take out the irritation on the easiest targetavailable, and Harbend didn't plan to be anywhere near when thathappened.

He was aboutto leave the corral when a young woman arrived with five horses and acouple of mules.

"Hi,heard you needed beasts," she called.

He lookedher over. Long, brown hair hidden under a soft felt hat, freckled,suntanned face. Somewhere in her early twenties. She wore a leatherjacket open in the front, so he could see that both shirt andtrousers were made of the same rough linen, probably even from thesame bale.

Wellformed.

She'd carrychildren without much damage, probably already had a couple. Theybred early out here.

"Yes,that is correct. I could do with the mules as well," he saidwhen she came closer. He'd been wrong. She probably was in her lateteens.

"You'resetting up a caravan?" Her accent was oddly unfamiliar, but theywere as far from Keen proper as was possible.

"I am.That should be rather obvious. How so?"

She lookedat him and smiled. "Care for company?"

"Merchant?"

"I'mnot, and neither is my mother, but she wants to join anyway. We couldhelp you get more horses along the way. We know the farms."

Harbendrecognized when he was being mildly blackmailed, but he didn't care.Each addition to the caravan was good for him, and if they could gethim horses more easily then that was a bonus.

"Youshall be welcome, but there is a fee."

"Youhandle that with Mother. I'm just to leave the horses here. Got topack, you see." With that she left the animals to one of hisgrooms and rode off.

Motherturned out to be a woman not much older than himself, clad in almostidentical clothes as her daughter. The owner of the brewery andwanted to know if she could get better prices for her wareselsewhere. Harbend soon lowered her expectations concerning thecider, but the brandy had aged well and would fetch a handsomerevenue as close as Erkateren, and they were soon haggling over thehorses and the admittance fee Harbend demanded.

Sitting inthe tavern they both looked up when Arthur entered. Harbend waved himto the table.

"Arthur,meet Lianin, our first partner."

Arthur bowedand took a chair for himself.

"Youmake... me honored. What wares do you have for display?" Arthursaid in De Vhatic.

Harbendtranslated her answer and explained further.

"Sheshall bring six wagons of her own, and she just sold me five horsesand four mules. I have bought the brandy she could not bring herself.There is also twelve wagon's worth of strong cider, but I think Ishall sell most of it on our way to Erkateren."

Arthursmiled in return. "Are we leaving tomorrow then?"

"Gods!No, we shall be off as soon as people finish eating. This remarkablewoman even knew where I could replace a cooking wagon, and she shallbring her daughter to drive it and run the cooking as well."

Theremarkable woman frowned, and Harbend translated.

"He's aforeigner?" she asked.

"Foreigner,yes. Mage, no. So you have no need to worry."

"Ifthat had been my main concern I wouldn't have asked to go with you toErkateren, not to speak of Braka," she replied with an amusedglint in her eyes.

Harbendlaughed. "I admit defeat."

"Now,what was that?" Arthur asked, and Harbend translated again.

Two daysfrom Roadbreak Arthur came to understand the peculiar name of thetown. They were on the highway running west to east, from Keen toErkateren, and only splotches of gravel told him someone did care forthe road at all. There was dust everywhere, and he began longing forrain even if Harbend had warned him that rain was what would turn theroad into a muddy quagmire. At the moment Arthur didn't care. Thedust crawled into his eyes, ears, nose and mouth, and every time hetook off his jacket a cloud of the ever present dirt enveloped him inan instant.

They'dbought the beasts of burden they needed at farms the girl led Harbendto, even though most of them turned out to be oxen. It matteredlittle. As draft animals they were stronger than horses, and with awagon train speed wasn't important. Especially on a road like thiswhere they only managed to cover half the distance each day comparedto back in Keen.

A caravan,and by now it looked like one. Almost forty wagons in total and overa hundred horses, mules and oxen unaccounted for. Two grooms and twocooks hired in Roadbreak as well as a carpenter. With drivers andescort they were well over a hundred men and women traveling on theroad. All the animals and humans in one place, always moving, made anoise Arthur wouldn't have believed possible outside of a city.

He wasn'tsurprised when people came out from their farmhouses to watch thestrange train passing by. Some even approached them asking for newsfrom Keen and that usually resulted in a little bit of trade and thecaravan swelled with livestock in exchange for cider and clothes madein Verd.

Trindaiwiped grime from his forehead. He preferred riding with the vanguard,but responsible for the escort as a whole he couldn't indulge inspending all of the day scouting ahead in friendly territory. Eachmission was different and knowing how people acted and reacted waskey to its outcome.

He smiled asMajor Terwin returned with his scouts.

"News?"

"Dustand bumps."

"Soundsexciting. Get some food and rest. Rearguard next. Tell them to catchup with us and water their horses!"

"Sir!"

Trindaiwatched as Kalvar Terwin led his group to a nearby farm. They'd watertheir horses there while waiting for the rearguard to arrive.

Peacefulthis far at least. Luckily enough the greedy merchant and the oversized outworlder both turned out to be decent horsemen. Better yet,neither of them complained. A far cry from the horrid mission whenhe'd escorted a bunch of fat merchants from Dagd to Vratistak. One ofMadame de Felder's less successful assignments. One squadronbabysitting lazy idiots never tired enough to cease complaining whileat the same time collecting taxes long overdue from the client statesthey passed through.

He shivered.Collecting them hadn't been half as bad as returning the cofferssafely back to Verd.

Well,eightdays yet before he'd have anything real to worry about. MajorBerdaler was the one with the problems this time. With the ordersTrindai sent was a letter of debt covering the costs for musteringenough soldiers to swell the escort in Ri Khi. The Minister ofCommerce had added another letter confirming that the caravan was anofficial De Vhatic trading mission.

Trindaiwondered how much weight it would carry in Ri Khi. Enough to attracta significant number of traders? Enough with the message about LordGarak leading the caravan? A half truth, nothing more. Harbend deGarak was a titled house, and as such a lord of sorts. Ramdar Garakwas a full duke of Khi, the kind of lord people from Khi, or Ri Khifor that matter, would follow into a war zone.

Wiping moregrime from his face Trindai rode on. Next rotation he'd be part ofthe vanguard and he planned to change clothes before his respite fromthe dust.

To Arthurthe weeks took on a monotonous routine. Waking at daybreak to thesound of metal clanking at the cooking wagon, then eating porridge,saddling a horse and away checking the road while the wagons weremade ready. After that an entire day covered in dust, with only ashort break for the midday meal, before it was time to make campagain. Riding with the vanguard was the only way to keep the worst ofthe dust away. Riding with the vanguard, unfortunately, also requiredhim to don some pieces of leather armor which turned out to beheavier than he suspected, and a lot warmer.

To hisdismay he quickly learned that his attempts to communicate withanyone but Harbend still failed because of his inability to properlyuse De Vhatic. Words, he desperately hungered for new words. Itwasn't as if he disliked Harbend's company, not at all, but he wantedto be part of the caravan as well.

The feelingof not belonging was strongest during the evenings, especially theevening following bathing day, the last of each eightday, when thecaravan stood still and people spent the time making small repairsand washing their clothes. That day closed early, and great bonfireswere laid in preparation for the coming feast. The evening meal oneworth the name rather than cold leftovers or trail rations. A cow orsome sheep were slaughtered and they all ate and drank until longafter dark.

One of theguards had a knack for storytelling, and Arthur was shut out from thehappy laughter unable to understand more than occasional words. Thathurt, hurt almost as much as his nightmares, but he forced himself tolearn more despite the small voice telling him to give up.

One morningArthur tried to make notes on what he had caught of De Vhatic theprevious day, and as always jotting down words on his notepad turnedout difficult as he was riding. He'd thought of using a microphonerather than a pen, but that would cut down the lifespan of his powercells to less than half, and he didn't know if he could ever get newones.

He wasinterrupted by the unfamiliar feeling of water on his face. Not adownpour but rather a steady drizzle, and Arthur was grateful whenthe ever present dust slowly settled.

Harbendswore as more and more wagons got mired. It was one of the hazardswith a caravan he'd only heard about but never seen. A few wagonswould never have been caught this way, and only the trailing wagonsgot into problems as the road softened. It took days of rain for asingle wagon to get stuck.

He orderedtheir reserve horses and all oxen to be added to the last wagons inan attempt to keep up speed. Now he could only hope the rain wouldn'tget much worse, or they'd start losing yet more time.

Turning hishorse he rode along the caravan until he met Arthur and the escortcaptain, a silent man named Trindai Laiden who, with Vildir'sapproval, had picked the men to be in the escort.

"Arthur,how is the road further on?"

Arthurgrowled in response and Trindai answered instead.

"Road'simpassable, M'lord. Creek turned river, but we can ford it if wefollow a game trail Lord Wallman found. I guess it must have rainedmore further east."

Harbendlooked at Arthur. Gods! He wasn't just wet from rain. The man musthave fallen into the water, which would explain his less than cordialgreeting earlier.

Holdthere! I asked my question in De Vhatic, but he must have understoodit anyway.

A marvel ofa man, a very wet marvel at that. Harbend laughed and the captainshared his mirth, even if in a more silent manner.

"Well,Arthur," he said, in English this time, "I see that youkeep to your high standards of hygiene."

"You besilent or you'll bloody share it when we pass that river," camethe sullen response.

"Now,now, do not start complaining. You wished for a change in weather.You have it. I shall call it a fair trade."

Arthurstarted grumbling again but was cut short by the sound of rustlingwings when a large bird of prey passed over them and struck an animalno more than fifty paces away.

"Whatwas that?"

Harbendglanced after the bird struggling with its prey. "An eagle. Theyare rather rare."

"That'sno eagle. Maybe not even a bird."

"It isan eagle. One of you outworlders taught me the word less than a yearago when we saw a bird like this circling over Verd."

"But,Harbend, it's got teeth and four legs! That's a lizard's head, not abeak."

Harbendstared at his partner. Strange reaction from a man who supposedly hadseen most of his own world. "So, some birds have beaks and somedo not."

Arthurdidn't answer. He just kept on staring while the eagle devoured itsprey.