Chương 72: Sea of Grass: 4
Arthur looked up from the fire as Harbend arrived. The man looked grimly satisfied. At least something good must have come out of the meeting earlier.
"And?" Arthur asked before Harbend had a chance to sit down.
"We continue tomorrow. We are going to visit the town the scouts found."
Arthur slowly sighed with relief. So they'd managed to come to a constructive conclusion after all.
"And all are happy?" he asked more as a joke than anything else.
"Of course not, but everyone continuing has promised to work for the same goal."
"Then I guess some are returning."
"No, no one shall return. We came to an agreement on that as well. A bit costly, but we decided we could not have anyone undermining the positions of the remainders."
Arthur nodded. Some politicking he could understand.
"Then I guess the ones forced to continue will make little noise from now on?"
Harbend shrugged uncomfortably rather than replying, and Arthur gave him a quizzical glance. When Harbend refused to answer the silent question Arthur frowned and voiced it. "And? How are you going to keep them from making trouble in the future?"
"It has been taken care of." Harbend rose and left the dancing circle of light. Arthur started to get to his feet but changed his mind and sat down again. He looked at Gring, but she said nothing. They sat in silence until long wails in the distance forced Arthur to his feet. The cries were almost inhuman, almost. He made for the darkness but a heavy hand on his shoulder forced him to turn.
"Sit!" Gring hissed.
"But, don't you hear?"
"Yes, I hear. Better than you do. Three of your kind and six dragonlings."
"But what's happening?" Arthur tried to pry himself free, but Gring's grip was too strong.
"Master Garak promised you that the problems had been taken care of. For an oath breaker he is strangely honorable."
Somehow Arthur knew what was going on, but his mind denied it, and he refused to believe it could happen, refused to believe it was happening right now, but from the darkness the wails of fear, pain and desperation continued until they subsided into a silence possibly even more ghastly.
#
Late in the morning the caravan slowly resumed its snaking trail across the plains. Traders and drivers were silent; subdued but also looking ahead with eyes that shone with a new firmness.
Arthur could see the resolve they had gained, and it made him sick. Only those few who had joined them early on seemed to share his sentiment, but they were too few and too frightened to voice their thoughts about the justice meted out the night before.
He spent as much time as he could with the vanguard, especially when the escort under Captain Laiden had the duty. Arthur knew he was trying to avoid Harbend as much as possible.
Of the soldiers, those hired in Verd and the smaller contingent arriving together with Captain Weinak's men, hardened as they might be, talked little about the horrid executions. In difference from the more heavily armed soldiers making out the majority of Nakora's command they boasted nothing about them at all.
They rode in silence, slowly ascending and Arthur could see apprehension in faces that had been grave and solemn, and after a while he also started to share their enthusiasm for whatever they expected to see on the other side of the summit. They reached the crest and for the first time Arthur could see for himself where they were heading. Far, far away a town spread out like a dark rug on the snow. It was surrounded by walls, wooden most probably. The town was closer to the mountains than they were and he guessed the mountainsides were covered by trees here as well. The palisade looked small and insignificant, but so did everything watched from a distance out here. He guessed it would tower above them when they came close, but from here it promised heat, blessed heat, and shelter from the wind.
Not all of them would be allowed inside of course. At least not at the same time, but he hoped the people living there would want to make some money and sell them food. If they were lucky there might even be a tavern or two somewhere inside.
He rubbed his beard with the back of his hand. Short enough to be coarse through the leather of his glove, it was still a beard; the first he had sported for over thirty years, unkempt, dirty and rough, and he wondered when the stubble had found time to grow so long. His wife would never have agreed to his appearance, but on days like these anything covering his face was protection much needed.
It took them the better part of afternoon to get there, and daylight was giving way to dusk before he could get a close look. During the day anticipation grew in the caravan. It was almost tangible, a feeling of increased safety. It was as if they all forgot what had happened less than a day earlier, and Arthur slowly accepted that some things were very different on Otherworld.
They rode closer, snow creaking under the hooves, and as he had guessed the stockade grew to dominate his view when they came close. A closed wooden gate, flanked by two watchtowers, was the only entry point he could see. This close he could see that there was indeed a narrow river flowing through the town. They would have fresh water after all, and maybe, just maybe hot baths. He would pay a lot for a tub with steaming water even if they had no oils or aromatic herbs.
When they were almost at the gates they opened and riders rode out to flank the wagon train. Startled Arthur wondered about the reception, but as he looked backwards he could see that not all of the caravan had made it to the crest where he'd first seen the town. The seemingly endless line of wagons, however familiar to him, with its armed escort was a threat to anyone not expecting the sight.
Arthur started searching for Gring but couldn't find her. He wondered if the people here spoke any language they could understand. Then Captain Weinak suddenly was beside him.
"I talk with ... to ... caravan," she said to him in De Vhatic, and without bothering to make certain he had understood she moved forward and addressed someone he assumed she had identified as being in charge. They spoke for a while in a language that had to be Khi, but apart from a few words Harbend had translated for him, Arthur was too unfamiliar with the language to be certain.
After some time Harbend joined them, and from his expression when he joined the conversation Arthur could see that if they did indeed speak Khi, it must be in a dialect very difficult for Harbend to understand.
Arthur gave up any pretense of being useful and withdrew to the rest of the escort where they stood as ready to either respond to an attack or enjoy themselves if they were finally allowed on the inside of the stockade. In the end they were let in, and while Harbend and Nakora haggled about the terms with the man Nakora had addressed earlier Arthur rode in search for an inn.
The streets were not paved at all, but sidewalks of wood allowed people to walk along the streets without getting too muddy. The streets themselves were a dirty, smelly mix of manure, mud and straw, and only the cold kept them from being too soft for the wagons.
He sniffed. The cold probably kept the worst of the smell away as well.
Arthur watched people milling around the streets stopping as they passed by, and for the second time in a short while he was reminded of just how large the caravan was. Even though only a small portion of them had been let in almost a hundred traders, guards and servants spread out in the town with wagons and horses already taking up more space at the gate than it was built to handle.
It was clear most of them would never be allowed in at the same time, and for a while a town would grow up outside the gates.
Almost like the market outside of Verd, Arthur remembered.
He saw a sign possibly depicting food and decided to take his chances. It wasn't as if he was doing anything dangerous anyway. Two traders and Captain Laiden followed him with several soldiers trailing them. Arthur dismounted and tethered his horse to a wooden rail. The entire town made him feel like visiting a holiday hub on the American plains, one dedicated to an earlier era of exploration, but the houses here were smaller, and some were clad in large mosaics of hides as additional protection from the wind, something he'd never seen before.
Arthur entered the building and came into a narrow, short corridor ending at yet another door. It made sense. He looked over his shoulder.
"Close door. I open door second," he said in De Vhatic.
He waited for the door to close, opened the inner one and crossed the threshold. A large room, sparsely lit by torches and open fires, already half full with men of all ages busy talking with each other or eating. Maybe not an inn, but definitely a tavern of some kind. It wouldn't be too long before Harbend found his way here, or at least someone from Ri Khi who could translate their needs for the night. Until then Arthur planned to stay indoors and get something to eat and drink.
"This tavern high quality? We stay standard unit evening and trade dinner?" he asked Trindai.
The captain nodded and sat down at a table, and as Arthur did the same they were joined by the two traders. Pointing at the other guests and his stomach and mouth Arthur managed to order something. It would be a surprise, but then anything would've been, even if he'd been able to speak their language.
Soon steaming mugs were placed on their table and Arthur tried to get a better look at his surroundings. He was sitting on a bench, resting his feet on earthen floor and with a mug of what he hoped was heated wine in his hands. It smelled strongly of alcohol anyway. He caressed the mug and let the heat seep through his fingers. It didn't matter what it was as long as it was hot enough to banish the ever-present cold. Arthur tried a mouthful. If it was wine it was of a kind he'd never drunk before. There was a salty tinge to it that wasn't unpleasant. Altogether it tasted somewhat like a consommé mixed with strong liquor. Not bad. Not bad at all. He emptied the mug and belched. One more of these and he'd feel life returning.
Hides covered part of the walls, or more probably, window slits to keep winter outside. Several fireplaces lined the center of the rectangular room, kettles hanging from hooks over the flames, and Arthur could see the fires were built on stone with what had to be ovens in the middle of each. As if to confirm his assumption a heavyset man grabbed a long shafted baking peel hanging on a wall and fished out a loaf of bread, placed it on a nearby table and put a large piece of kneaded dough on the spade before inserting it into the oven.
Arthur looked up as Trindai returned with a tray full of mugs and small bowls.
"Food and drink. Now we ... !"
Arthur didn't need understanding it all. The happy grin spreading over Trindai's weather-beaten face was explanation enough, and the four of them were soon busy eating and drinking, a joy needing no spoken words.
The bread was excellent, and the horseflesh, well at least it was better seasoned than the animals brought down by the escort. Hunting horse and six legged lizards, now that was another difference from Earth.
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