Julina of Blackstone - 034 - Round And Round, And Up ...... And Down

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A day of ups and downs

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Julina of Blackstone
Her Chronicles

by Julia Phillips

034 – Round And Round, And Up …... And Down


Disclaimer:

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2013 - 2020 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2020 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.


Julina of Blackstone
Her Chronicles
034 – Round And Round, And Up …... And Down

“Now, now, Julina. That's not fair. You of all people should know my …”

Epp broke off with a little squeal as Mohini appeared at the front door of the house, and skipped down the three steps to the road surface. She ran a few paces and gathered him up in her arms. I had almost forgotten her younger son had stayed down here in Tranidor to do something like hunt for a future apprenticeship. And then her elder son appeared from the door, grinning shyly. My he had changed since he had stayed down here. He was heavier, weight which added to his personality, and he stood straighter. There was a more manly overall impression than at the last time I had seen him, up in Blackstone.

'Hmmmm. Maybe I need to get to talk a little with him', I startled myself with that thought.

Then a third man appeared out of the door. He too came down the steps and joined the family hug. The smile that Epp gave him just confirmed what we had all known for a while. She and Shemel were joining in with Sookie and Uncle, and, I suppose we should also add to the list of upcoming nuptials, Milady and His Highness.

Now I had known all these men for most of my life, except Shemel, of course, and they all seemed perfectly normal to me, not any different just because of their grandfather's house, so the normality of their greeting and their behaviour helped ground me; and I managed to shake off my feelings of inferiority before we even stepped into this amazing house.

I was wondering just how we would all be fitted in but in the end it was quite simple really.

Master Galangal had his suite downstairs as the stairs would be too much for his one-legged walking, if that's what it's called; and his temporary manservant when he was here, a local hire, had a room attached to his suite. Thus it was that Suril, Haka and Haris had the Master's suite and GB was accommodated in the manservant's room, as she would not have to negotiate the stairs then.

On the attic floor right at the top of the house, there was a room usually used by Kermel and Shemekia, Master Galangal's staff who always travelled with him, when they were here, and another shared by the two permanent maids, Jogantha and Karmanya (who lived in this house all the time). There was apparently a small room up there which was allocated to the locally-hired manservant, Skrotum, who was here for the time we were. Wrinkled and old, he was still an excellent retainer. And glad of some extra income in his retirement.

If you think there were 13 people on the wagon coming down here and one of those (Jafferkin) would not be overnighting, then we had twelve to stay overnight. Add to those the two sons and Shemel and also the two live-in maids, and Skrotum, then 18 people had to find beds.

GB, and the Suril family, four in all, were housed on the ground floor, leaving fourteen.

The two maids and the manservant were up on the attic level, that was three, leaving eleven.

Shemel and Epp had one room, Molly and her mother another, me and Gyth a third and Kelly and Kords the fourth. The boys had a shared room too on the middle floor. So that made five pairs, which left only Parrier.

And then I found out that there were two more as well. A cook, Bratet, had been hired and she had another small room up at the attic level and there was a young lad, Max, employed for the time of our visit to do all sorts of things, fetch and carry, scrub when necessary, run errands and so on. He was to share with Parrier.

Thus we were all fitted in, and there was at least one room up at the attic level not being used!

Once we had got over our initial shock at the complete change in lifestyle, we all settled in, found out what was where and so on and so forth. After the usual post-travel refreshing, we all gathered downstairs and found that there were two rooms there, a family room with comfortable chairs and the like and a room that was referred to as the 'dining room'. There was a table there that could have seated twenty easily. We were all ushered into this room, and we each selected one of the fourteen laid-up places.

Haris was asleep in one corner of the other room and one of either Jogantha or Karmanya was always nearby, so that Haka could have an undisturbed meal should the young 'un wake up.

The meal was very welcome after the travels and when Bratet came in we all thanked her immensely. She explained that it wasn't too difficult as these recipes were those that Epp's company did regularly, so it wasn't too difficult to provide a tasty and nutritious meal.

Epp's business was of course one of the topics of conversation we had round the table as were several others. Mousa in particular was very interested in the details of how the business came about and how it was run and so on.

I do not mean to imply that I consider myself more important than anyone or anything else by mentioning a topic that I raised as the first I describe, but it ties in with a natural sort of progression, so I shall get this out of the way at the earliest opportunity.

I waited until a suitable moment and started by saying: “If it pleases, Epp, may I mention something that causes me a certain amount of confusion?”

She nodded: “Of course, my dear. What have you noticed?”

“Our friends, yours more than us I suppose, but I feel we also made friends there, Kolston and Basset.”

“What about them?”

“Well they are fairly new there, and they have so much hope and enthusiasm. I wish them the very best. But I have a worry, that I feel I must mention now that we are all, as it were, in private. I didn't want them to worry if my thoughts are incorrect.”

“I wouldn't be too overly concerned about them, if I were you. Actually, they are also the foremost producers of a particular form of cheese. Sometimes known as brown-veined cheeses, their variety is renowned all over the land. You may have heard of it, a Silton cheese, considered by many to be the Queen of cheeses in Palarand. It actually gets its name from a roadhouse just south of Haligo, on the Teldor side of the valley, the west. They send nearly all their cheeses down there as it is far handier for buyers from Teldor and Dekarran. And THAT roadhouse, sometimes wrongly written with a 'w' making it 'Siltown', is run by Basset's brother and his wife. Such is the reputation of Kolston and Basset's cheese, that they don't actually need to work to make a living. They just love doing so. And their sales of it at Brayview are increasing as word gets round. Many in Tranidor are falling in love with it.”

“I confess that that information makes me feel a little better. But I was considering a number of factors when the thought occurred. That new village Bezlet is at the heart of it. When we came down here, we rushed and pressed and pushed and then only just made it to Brayview in one day's journeying. But the second day of travel was far shorter. So really, the journey to here took a day and a half, with one day of stress.”

I paused for a quick sip of water from my beaker.

“Now the wagoneers have set up a shuttle where the journeys are three half days, also making a day and a half of travelling. They use Brayview and the Forest Roadhouse as their stopping places. What I noticed was that Bezlet is almost exactly half way between Blackstone and Tranidor. Surely, sooner rather than later, there will be a roadhouse or maybe a bunkhouse at Bezlet, and both the Forest Roadhouse and Brayview will lose so much business. Surely their days are numbered already, and they've only just started being busy. I fear for both places.”

There was a sudden silence round the table as my words made many think.

The silence was finally broken by Shemel.

“Excellent thinking, Mistress Julina. I doubt it would have occurred to any of us. Yes, you are right, but I deem from only one perspective. The wagon traffic is not the totality of traffic. Brayview is a popular stop for the VMS – the Valley Messenger Service, as they can rest there and continue northwards without having to detour into Tranidor. Admittedly, that is just a small part of the traffic, but nevertheless it is likely to grow as Blackstone does. Brayview is also the bedding place for the semaphore operators. There is also some traffic from the Chaarn road, and local traffic as well. Brayview is also the better appointed roadhouse on that stretch of road and is thus the venue of choice for meetings; it is handy for Tranidorans to come up to and then return home, all in one day.”

A few nods came from others round the table as they took that information in.

“As for the Forest Roadhouse, then again there is the proximity factor, but this time to Blackstone. This is the favoured meeting place for people coming up valley, and for those resident in Blackstone to come down and meet them. It is a day's turnaround time to get down from Blackstone town, have a meeting and then return. Certainly, some of the purely commercial traffic will skip down to Bezlet, or skip up to it if travelling the other way, but I deem that the future is not quite so dire as we might have first thought.”

“Thank you Master Shemel. You have set many of my fears to rest.”

“I applaud you for even thinking of it to start with. I have been forewarned, but I am still impressed.”

“Huh? Forewarned? What on Anmar do you …”

“Hold! I have a further thought on this subject.” Epp interrupted forcefully. “Suril! This might well be a question for you, methinks!”

We all paused and looked at her as she gathered her thoughts together.

“I think we are all agreed that certainly SOME sort of inn, some sort of overnighting, is going to have to be in Bezlet. Julina has clearly shown us that Bezlet is very much more central in Milady's lands. It seems to me, given what information I have at present, that it makes sense for our Sheriff to be based more centrally, so why not combine his two skills. He and Yanda have the ability to run such an establishment, and it would make his other duties easier. What think you, Suril? 'Twould mean more responsibility for you, and Haka has her job with Hasinet, so it would be better that way round than for you to move down valley.”

“I deem the idea to have merit, Mistress Megrozen, but I deem also that there are many other factors to be brought into account. Certainly, my discussions this morn with the roadhouse managers strongly support the idea of a closer Watch presence. We must needs discuss this and the ramifications with the Assembly up in Blackstone. I thank you for the idea.”

It was Kords who raised the next topic, riding on the back of the previous ones in a way. She coughed diffidently and I made a mental note to tell her to be more confident in herself. Epp gently asked for quiet to allow Kords to speak, which she did after swallowing and then taking a deep breath.

“When we were at Brayview, Basset mentioned that she thought that Milady Garia had had a smoothing influence on Milord Trosan-what's-its, however …”

Termerik gave out a snort of laughter, but indicated with his hand for Kords to continue.

“ … I regret I failed to understand the reference and 'Lina's mentions of Brayview reminded me to ask. If that's all right?”

“Of course it is, young lady. That's what we're here for, to discuss such things.” Epp broke off to glare at her son. “Although I fail to understand why my son should be rude enough to laugh at your efforts to recall someone's name.”

“If it pleases you, Mother, might I explain? I apologise if it was taken as a rude remark directed at Mistress Kordulet, but I deem that you all will laugh too when I give you my knowledge.”

“You are in trouble, young man, if we don't,” said his mother fiercely. “You might be an employed apprentice, but I am still your mother. And I won't tolerate rudeness and inconsideration, however old you are.”

She sat back, showing Termerik that he could continue. I hoped for his sake that he could deliver on his promise, for I feared for him if he didn't – and I could tell that everyone else felt the same.

“Where shall I begin? There are several options. Let me see …”

He added to the tension with this start, but I relaxed, because I could see a wicked little grin in his eyes, and I realised he was in full control of the situation, and that the story would be good. I noticed that Epp picked up the same clues and she relaxed a little.

“I think it's appropriate, as you have all just arrived, to begin with the arrival of some other travellers. Milady Garia, Baroness of Blackstone and her retinue was part of a travelling band led by by His Highness, Prince Keren of Palarand and which arrived in Tranidor three or so weeks ago. Now I can skip over some of the things that happened before this party got up to the outer bailey of the castle, and get down to events that happened thereafter. By the way, Mother, we sold many, many meals that evening I can tell you.

“Anyway, His Highness and Milady were accompanied by a large caravan and many men at arms. Amongst those men at arms were a file of those from the Count whose castle is just over there, maybe two marks or so away. I wish not to mention his name just yet, with all your forebearances.

“Now it appears that this Count did not ascertain the full information available, and he set out to intimidate the Royal Party by positioning his guard in such a way that the arriving party were all under close bow shot. But it was the visitors who refused to be intimidated. It is said that His Highness instructed his guards to fire at those of the Count, if the Count did not dismiss them from their threatening poses, stating that the Count's guards would not fire back for fear of shooting their employer. But if they did, then it was just as likely that their employer would be hit as anyone else in the party.

“The relative shows of force meant that things hung in the balance for a good few heartbeats. It was the Count who gave way. The Count's guards were dismissed and 'twas the Count himself who had been intimidated. Very much intimidated.

“This is why he is now known throughout the town as Lord Trews-are-not-dry, the Count of Tranidor.”

It took a little while as we thought about it, and then Shemel erupted with laughter which set us all off. GB excused herself and she waddled as quickly as she could to the privy. I caught sight of something on the floor after she had passed, but didn't take too much notice of it, lest others saw as well. I was glad I had been discreet, as I could guess what it meant.

Kords put her hand up again, and waited permission to continue which was granted by a still laughing Epp, with an elegant hand gesture.

“Thank you, Mistress Epp and thank you, Master Termerik, for that story. I fully understand your mirth. Basset told us that Lord Trews-are-not-dry has relaxed some of his edicts and that now people are happier. And this was due to Milady and the Prince?”

“Well, yes and no. Milord accompanied the Royal Party to Dekarran, under open arrest it is said. In the meantime, his wife, Milady Lasalenne rules and it is SHE who has relaxed some of the tougher measures. I have heard that the semaphore chain has told us that Milord will return to Tranidor in three or four days or so. But this is unconfirmed. It is likely of course, as then he will be here for Midwinter's Night, and the start of the New Year. Which begins with a feast day this year, one of those extra days the astronomers throw in every so often to keep the calendar straight.”

There was a gasp from Epp and her face paled.

“Maker! I forgot all about Midwinter's! When is it exactly?”

“Why Mother! I am surprised, if not shocked, to find you are not perfect!”

We all laughed again.

“Today is the 14th. The last day of the year is the 21st, and the following day is the Feast Day. The day AFTER that will be the 22nd, of course. And today I had a request from the Castle to see if we could do some catering on the Feast Day. Seemot and Deebla have also been asked, as have two or three of the larger and more reputable inns. These are, of course, Milady Lasalenne's requests.”

Epp groaned.

“Oh Julina, I am SO sorry. It just didn't connect in my mind somehow. It seems that our original plan was flawed, and if we keep to it, we will have to have the Midwinter Festival whilst we are on the road. Oh how could I be so stupid?”

We were all taken aback. But not by Epp's 'stupidity'.

Midwinter's Night was a tradition throughout Palarand, with as large a family gathering as could be had all together for a dinner followed by a candlelit vigil to see in the New Year.

And a Feast Day was a day off for everyone that could be spared. I understand that the military draw lots for those who must be on duty. Everyone mingles and there is much fun, sports and games, and a general feeling of carefree relaxedness, if such a word exists.

Neither of these events were events to be had whilst travelling. We all wanted to be with family for the festivities.

Just then GB came back, and I saw she had a piece of bandaging on her left hand, round her forefinger. My guess as to the previous was thus proven to be wrong. I whispered to her as she passed: “Are you alright? Is your finger bad? How did it happen? I noticed a drop of blood on the floor by the door as you went out.” She just hushed me and said there was nothing to worry about.

Epp quickly recapped for GB what had happened and then she offered us two alternatives: “So you would all be welcome to stay here and return to Blackstone in the New Year, which would give ...” she counted rapidly on her fingers, “... eight full days here. Or the return is in the morning of the fifth day from now, giving you four days here. Leaving on the 19th would give an overnight at Brayview on that day, an overnight at the Forest Roadhouse on the 20th and a return to Blackstone on the 21st – which is Midwinter's Night.”

We were all a little disappointed that the plans had had to be changed, but we all also felt guilty that we hadn't spotted the problem earlier. Even I did. Even though the plans had been kept secret from me. Which was a silly reaction on my part.

There was little discussion actually, we knew we all wanted to be back in Blackstone with our families, those of us that had them, and Suril said he should be back earlier than the longer stay would permit.

“But I can always take the shuttle if everyone wants to stay.”

The only one with nothing to say was GB, which we all understood. She had no-one other than Epp.

As the main reason for this trip, I was naturally the spokeswoman.

“Thus is it decided! We shall leave on the 19th. Which means we shall have four full days in this noisy town.”

… … …

It lacked but a bell and a half until noon by the time we were all ready to go out on that first morning. Much to Jafferkin's barely disguised disgust.

However, he had been hired to show us around for the first day and so he would have to wait as and when it was necessary. He was told about the change in return plans and Epp translated his grunt to us as “Makes sense.”

He and Epp had had a few moments talk which had resulted in some unnamed agreement. I was fondling Josten's ears whilst they were doing this, and then I got involved before they split up, as I had learnt that Epp was sometimes a required translator: “And because of the events, Goodman Jafferkin, would you like to join our family whilst you are up there for those two occasions?”

He looked at me as though I had slapped him, before grunting something like: “No famly, no ties, but fank 'ee.”

I caught a look from Epp and was relieved by a nod from her, which told me I had grasped the message correctly: “I'll keep on at you, Goodman, all the way back. I do not accept your answer, yet!” I gave him my best smile before turning on my heel and walking away back into the house.

This little exchange had taken place quite early in the day. The shortest day was fast approaching, which meant around eight bells of light, with the first and the last being mostly just the twilight quality of those two crepuscular periods. The dawn one was just ending as we had this chat.

GB came out of the house and explained that she wanted to see the rivers, adding cryptically that Epp would understand. She wondered if there was time for Jafferkin to take her through the town and over to the west, leaving her there somewhere on the banks of the Sufen, so he could get back here to pick the rest of us up.

“I'm only a fat old lady and would just hold you young things up, so let me wander round doing my own thing, it will make it so much easier for you all.”

So it was that she sat on the tailgate of the wagon alongside Epp as J and J went off with them, Epp having some urgent errand to perform and Jafferkin could take her part of the way. I went back inside and tried to get some plans arranged.

Haka wanted just a gentle day staying at the house, as she felt poor Haris was a little overwhelmed with the travel and the increased ambient noise. When she said that, I realised with a shock that I was already adjusting to the noise that had so assailed us the day before.

So Epp had gone off, as had GB, while Haka and Haris were staying here. That left eight of us to be accounted for since Termerik and Mohini were naturally busy and Shemel had some jobs to do as well.

Suril had departed even earlier for some pre-arranged appointments so that left we five girls, Mousa and Parrier. Max was given the responsibility of pointing out areas to be avoided and obvious dangers such as pickpockets and purse-snatchers, and also to point out notable features and landmarks. Jafferkin of course would also be keeping out an eye for us as he would be choosing the route we should see.

Even with this agreement happening whilst Jafferkin was off with GB, we were still not ready for him when he returned. Which is why he was so disgusted.

However, he did well by us. He might be grumpy, he might be old, he might be taciturn, but he does think, and he does his job well.

He started out gently.

He did this by leaving the square by one route (Max told us this was called the West Bray Road) showing us what was to be found within 10 casts or so up there. He took a side turning to the left into another road and a few casts later turned left again into another larger road, called, said Max, South Point Road. Lo and behold, 10 casts later we were back at the house, this time approaching it from the second of the three routes that came into that semi-private square. Kords recognised this as our avenue of approach last evening, which Jafferkin grunted as being correct.

This simple routing expanded our horizons by so much in such a little time.

Max told us that the final route out of the square, the one that Jafferkin now took, was known as the East Palar Road as it followed the east bank of that river. Epp's house stood on this bank, only a few strides from also being on the bank of the Bray, the west bank of the Bray of course.

Almost immediately, we saw to our left a small area with barges and little boats tied up there. We could see across the fast-flowing river to the other bank where there were also three or four similar little havens for boats.

“Them over there, they be in West Tranidor, a part of the town accessed only by the West bridge, or the Palar Bridge, as some prefer.”

We had hardly moved much more when we saw yet another boat haven to our left, after the river view had been blocked by two or three tall houses, none of them quite so imposing as Epp's. The lack of tall buildings at this second haven, which Max called a 'landing', enabled us to get a good look at a high bridge across which there was much traffic in either direction. This bridge must have been three or four times the height of the tallest mast we could see.

“Now you can see the West Bridge itself, way up there. I repeat that this be the only connection from Tranidor to West Tranidor. And South Tranidor, the part of town across the Sufen river, itself connects only with West Tranidor. That connection be the South Bridge, also known as the Sufen Bridge. So you all can understand that all the traffic what comes down the Sufen Valley must needs cross the Palar Bridge, West Bridge, to gain the road through town, called Cross Street, before exiting over the Bray Bridge, East Bridge and there gaining the down valley high road.”

It took us a little while to think our way through that mass of information, but we managed it.

Our quite wide road however kinked quite sharply to the right at that point, but Jafferkin turned off the wider street into a narrower one that continued along the river side.

He grunted at Max and, a little while after, since Max had to work out what J wanted him to say, Max told us : ”This road what we be turning off now, climbs up into the middle of the town, from where Cross Street which leads to either of the bridges can be accessed. But we'll turn off onto this narrower streetway.”

This road we were on then actually followed the very bank of the river itself, and shared its use as a street and a tow path.

A little while further, there was a very large square – well rectangle actually, that was heavily populated with wagons and also stabling for beasts. This was long and narrow. Max pointed out to our left several footbridges over a narrow part of the river, which narrow part separated the town from a large island. At least Max assured us it was an island, we were unable to see the far side due to the imposing edifices of several large houses.

“All the rich nobs live there. It's a very exclusive island with only foot access. Very exclusive.”

We continued beyond the island, squeezed between the river and a built-up bank to our right. Fortunately our way was unhindered by any beasts requiring the way as a tow path.

“On top of that bank to our right is the raised road that comes down the Palar. It is the Tel Botro trade route and just about at the end of the island we just passed, it joins the roads that come down the Sufen and over the West Bridge and branches there to head directly to the East Bridge which goes over the Bray. That must have been the bridge you came in over yesterday. Remember, some call it the Bray Bridge, and call the other the Palar Bridge, but nowadays we seem to be all referring to East and West Bridges. Some also say the Sufen Bridge, but the modern term is now the South Bridge.”

We smiled as he seemed to forget that he had already told us this, but I suppose it helped us remember all this.

Jafferkin had nodded and grunted his agreement, and his disapproval too. We smiled behind his back, even Max.

Our road continued along the bank of the river gradually angling away from the Trade Road. We reached a further landing and J grunted and pointed with his chin straight ahead as he paused before turning right.

“The road continues all the way up the river bank into the countryside beyond the town limits, but there is a blockage there so all traffic has to enter or exit the town at the Guard and Tax point. Which is of course situated on the Trade Route. We are going to climb the slight slope away from the river now and …”

A series of grunts from Jafferkin.

“... cross the Trade Route to go up to the castle walls at the West Gate. We will follow those walls round to the south, but not as far as the East Gate. Then we will take Main Street which goes all the way back down to the Market Place. Once we have gained the Cross Route, which is the road you'll remember that connects the East and West Bridges, we will turn right and head into West Tranidor over that bridge we saw, the Palar, or West, Bridge.”

And so it passed; eventually we were carried over the Sufen Bridge, or the South Bridge if you prefer, into South Tranidor. We did a quick circle in the roads and lanes of that part of this town, and then crossed the Sufen Bridge once more, stopping at last for some relief and a midday snack at an inn called the Iron Spear.

The break was welcome, and we were made welcome too, particularly from a handful of men who were in there, and whom we vaguely recognised. They were men who had travelled up to Blackstone before, indeed one was leaving on the morrow to return there, and when they learnt that we were down here in Tranidor for the first time ever in our lives, they volunteered to show us around. Some of the offers were not so welcomed by Mousa, mind you! But we enjoyed our break and we sang Jafferkin's praises to these others, much to his embarrassment.

Then he turned to one of the others. I could tell from the inflection of his voice that he had asked a question, and I could tell from his body that the answer he got was not what he was expecting.

“No, Jaffers, no large women have been here today.”

My attention sharpened as I realised that he had probably agreed to meet GB here, and she hadn't turned up.

We waited for longer than Jafferkin obviously wanted, but he had to take us back, having promised Epp that we would meet in the Market Place at the 6th Bell, and he still wanted to show us another area or two.

So we went back across the West Bridge heading eastwards into the centre of the town. He pointed out a few things, announced as before by Max, and afterwards he took some narrow little twisty lanes and alleys to make the journey a little shorter, arriving at the agreed place only a hand of moments late.

I thought that Epp had obviously had a bad day as she was drawn, pale and tired – and I didn't have the feeling that her strained demeanour was due to a mere hand of moments delay.

“I'm sorry, Epp. We were waiting for GB but she didn't turn up as arranged.”

A shadow crossed Epp's face as she replied: “No, that's alright, Mousa. I have heard from her, but had no way to get a message to you. She changed her mind about something and she decided to go down river to be with some relatives. She didn't want to disturb us.”

My mother instincts were raised as I heard the tone of voice she used, as were Mousa's. I don't think anyone else picked up on it though. The three of us exchanged looks and it was agreed to say nothing more for a while. Epp would let us know what else there was later on when we could have some privacy.

“Max, thank you for your help today, you may stay with us if you wish, but you will be required at the house from the seventh Bell.”

“Yes, Mistress Megrozen. If it pleases you I will stay for a while, I find these visitors to be far the most nicest group I have met. And I have learnt much from them and their chatter today.”

We all smiled as it was obvious he wasn't trying to be smarmy, he was stating his point of view plainly and clearly. And we had found him to be nice and no pain, so we had no objections.

As it happened, this was a good thing, for we managed to find some errands for him which cut down our usage of the limited time.

And he did me a HUGE service when he tracked down the person whose name had been given me back in Brayview.

… … …

It was difficult to prise Mousa away from the others in order to meet Berdon, but I managed it eventually.

That was hectic I must say, but I was helped by Berdon's quick wit and reactions. I had my back to the others and was flashing all sorts of messages to him with my eyes and it took him maybe three heartbeats before he went along with it. I was grateful for he could have just walked away. But I managed to intrigue him sufficiently that his curiosity was piqued.

Mind you, all the girls' curiosity was also piqued. Who was this stranger, this man, whose name I had never before mentioned and whom I had sent Max to find? I needed some quick thinking myself, and ended playing the “please trust me” card. Epp helped as she knew what I was about and she took the others off to see something or other, leaving Mousa as my chaperone.

Phew!

“Good day, Master Berdon. Well met. My name is Julina and I hail from Blackstone.” His eyebrows rose at that, and at the fact that the younger woman had summoned him so to speak, and that she was leading the conversation.

“Goodman Berdon, Mistress … Julina. I lack mastership at anything, excepting perchance entertaining others.”

“And it is precisely those qualities that I suspect I require, Goodman!” Once more the raised eyebrows.

“I have a problem that I have been directed to you to help solve, we hope. This is Mistress Mousa and she is involved as well.”

“Mistress Mousa, good aft'noon,” he responded politely. Turning back to me, he continued: “May I enquire who directed you to me?”

“Perchance that will become apparent, Goodman. The story is not simple.”

“But I deem it involves a certain Parril, or Perril, or Purril or something similar. He is the only other I have met from Blackstone.”

I breathed a long sigh. One of relief. As did Mousa.

“And he pestered you about this hibnotics or whatever it's called?”

“Indeed. Oh! Perchance he tried to hypnotise someone and it failed in some way, and you have come to learn how he might put it right?”

“Yes and no, Goodman Berdon. That is no longer possible. It is a lot more …”

“His subject died?” he asked with horror.

“Yes and no. You see …”

“How can someone …?”

“Goodman. I implore you! Allow me to give you the facts and I believe your answers will become clear.”

He held his hands up, and, whilst standing, appeared to lean back in a chair with an air of expectation. Which feat intrigued me and I would have to come back to that later. However …

“I have a very great friend whose name is Molleena. Mistress Mousa here is Molly's Mama. We have reason to believe that Molly was hibno-thingied by Perril. And not un-hibno-whatsitted before he died. Another girl he did it to, killed herself because she did not like what he was forcing them to do. So one subject died, another is still in thrall or whatever it is called, and the principle cause is no longer around to release her. We need her released, by you, please, as soon as possible. There, that is my problem stated a little more bluntly than I had intended, so I beg pardon for that.”

“Maker! This could be dangerous. I know not Perril's key words or symbols or gestures. And his passing, which appears to be quite unlamented by you two, means no-one can learn of them from him. Good Mistresses both, I see no way of doing this – but this poor Molly does need some help, I admit.”

“Oh!” we both said at the same time, and with the same disappointment.

“What has this Perril made her do?”

I looked at Mousa for permission to tell him, but she spat out the answer herself: “He made a whore of her. He forced her to give herself to men who then paid HIM. She has always been a sensual girl, and I know girls of her age, of Julina's age here, are coping with raging feelings as they grow at this time of their lives, but what he did was despicable. I spit on his memory and am glad he had such a horrible end. But I need … need …” she started sobbing then and I put an arm round her.

Goodman Berdon looked shocked, and angry, and determined and helpless all at the same time. I could tell this was a genuine reaction, not one of his selected reactions from his abilities as a player.

“Oh how I wish I had heeded my instincts and not succumbed to the lure of his coin. You are sure he is dead? For I shall hunt him down and kill him myself for employing my knowledge in such a dastardly fashion. Why I would ...”

“Oh yes! He is dead alright. Taken by a ptuvil, he was – in front of witnesses of no less standing than Milady Garia, Baroness of Blackstone and His Royal Highness, Prince Keren of Palarand. Our future King and Queen.”

I had believed that he could not show more amazement than he had already, but I was wrong. “So it's true then? Your Baroness was attacked by a ptuvil? And yet Perril was defending her? That sounds almost too honourable for him.”

“Indeed it was. Perril was a traitor, trying to kill the Baroness and the Prince when a ptuvil swooped from the skies and put paid to the treasonous attack. And is that expression upon your face your impression of a fish, or are you genuinely astounded?”

“Maker! So the rumours were true then. I supposed they must be exaggerated. They came here you know, and soon put our Count to rights after a tense moment or two. Ever since, our Count has been known as ...”

“Lord Trews-are-not-dry!” we finished for him. He was astounded that we knew, and we knew the reasons behind the name. Especially since we had been in town less than a day.

“But we are drifting off the subject of Molly here!” I admonished.

“Sorry! Of course! Molly must be the priority. But I am unable at this moment to travel to Blackstone to see her since we …”

“She is over there, scarce a cast distant from you now.”

“Ah! That makes things easier in one way. But I must repeat I know not this Perril's keys to her mind. I will try, but I know not what would happen when I try to impose MY keys upon her.”

“I understand scarce a word of your technicalities there. But I am a little confused. Please correct me if you would. Perril has imposed his keys as you call them upon poor Molly's mind?”

“That is correct.”

“Therefore Molly must know these keys?”

“Indeed, Mistress Julina.”

“Can you not then hibno-whatsit her without any of your key thingies and get her to tell you what the missing keys are?”

There was a full moment of silence. I saw hope bloom in Mousa's face as something dawned in Goodman Berdon's.

“Maker! Why didn't I think of that? It would certainly be worth a try. And I certainly did not teach Perril anything but the basics so I do not feel that he would have made things too complicated. When may I call round to see her? Where are you staying?”

“Ah! I need to get our hostess' permission before I can invite anyone round to her house. A stranger, you understand. I shall skip over and ask her now.”

So saying I waved to Epp, who waved back – which caused a gasp from Berdon.

“You are staying with Mistress Megrozen? How on Anmar did a young Blackstone girl get acquainted with one of the more successful business women here in Tranidor?”

Despite the serious nature of our concern, I laughed. “She lives in Blackstone as well!”

His face was a right picture I can tell you.

… … …

Epp gave her permission for this stranger to be allowed to come to her house and invited him to stay for dinner with us. He sent Max off somewhere with a message and then took over the guiding of us all round this part of Tranidor. His local knowledge far exceeded that of any of us (except Max) and he made the tour amusing, fascinating and also a little gruesome as he told us of several murders that had occurred. But his easy charm and well-honed tale-teller's skills made even Epp come partway out of the gloom into which she had sunk.

Mousa and I knew we had to get her to one side to find out what was wrong and somehow shake her out of whatever it was. So we tried, but to no avail. She said she would tell us when we got back to the house. Berdon could try his business first, and, if successful, then that would help.

That was all we could get out of her, and I started worrying what could be so wrong. I imagined everything, it seemed to me, and Mousa and I also came up with some ideas. But, as you shall see, we came nowhere near to imagining what it was.

Once Berdon had found out enough about us all, he started giving us several tips as to who provided the best quality this or that, who were the most honest traders, who the most dishonest and so on. Mousa asked him if he knew a quality seamstress that might do some swift work, as we would be leaving again in four days, and he gave her a name and directions as to how to get there. He suggested that we send Max to her as soon as that young man returned, then Mousa and I could visit the seamstress, and maybe Epp as well, later that evening. I would have to either take or lend my riding attire and the others would need to be measured. I suddenly thought that Haka should come too, this might be a connection that she could use to get her errands done whilst she was here.

Berdon also taught us much to be on the look-out for, like rogues who would chat to you whilst an accomplice would try to steal anything unguarded, and so on. He even saw a face he recognised and told us to watch him as he went about. We all gasped at the ease with which this pickpocket relieved poor unsuspecting people of their coin and even goods. We were too far away to do anything, but Berdon told us not to worry.

“There are other factors in play right now,” he said mysteriously as his bright and intelligent eyes kept darting about.

Sure enough, suddenly three men surrounded the miscreant and held him tight whilst another went to find the victims. Berdon had recognised two of the Watchmen and therefore worked out what would happen.

Thus it was we spent the last Bell of real daylight being properly guided about the area of the market place.

Max had returned with a message and a carry bag for Berdon, only to be sent off again to the seamstress to arrange an appointment. When he came back, even he learnt some things that he didn't know, but then he had to dash back to the house for his chores there.

There was one building that fascinated us, due to the smells emanating from within. Even Epp had to smile as Berdon described it as the 'pie capital' of the entire world, and she agreed that Seemot and Deebla pies were of the uppermost quality. She also mentioned that they were her largest competitors for 'carry away' food, their advantage being that an eater required no plate nor spoon to consume the food, whereas hers did. But she provided a more 'balanced', as she termed it, meal – and the demand was sufficient for both to prosper.

She also said that she had met many times with Master Seemot, not so often with Mistress Deebla, and they both agreed that any nastiness between either company would just be like cutting their own throats. The cheaper imitators were doing just that, which was creating a reputation for reliability and quality on behalf of both their companies.

… … …

I was fidgetting about, waiting for Berdon to reappear from Mousa and Molly's room. He had initiated and maintained some strict controls before his attempt by insisting that the room door remained open so no 'funny business' could take place without being observed.

However, that meant that Molly particularly had to have her back to the doorway, lest she be distracted and the rest of us had to remain quiet and still so she could concentrate upon what Berdon was doing. Mousa was of course present as a chaperone, but she herself might get hypnotised (I had been given the correct spelling once again) so that was another reason for the open door.

We were all to stay out of eyeshot of Berdon as he was doing whatever he had to, lest we too were influenced. So we all had to glide silently across the open doorway constantly, but without any one of us being exposed to any possible influences for more than just a heartbeat or two.

It sounds more complicated than it was, however, and then Berdon asked me to come in and close the door behind me, to keep what was said after that point private. I could see that Molly was not really there somehow and that Mousa on the other hand was in full control of her senses, not influenced at all.

What was said subsequently shall forever remain between the four of us, but Mousa and I were quite shocked by some of the revelations that Berdon managed to get Molly to explain. He was having to work very hard to remain calm and objective and afterwards he went out onto the wooden terrace behind the house and hurled expletives and stones at the river. I will mention only that Perril had been far more evil than any of us had ever suspected.

But, when it came down to it, my suggestion had worked, and Berdon was able to break the thrall that was so restricting Molly. We could all see the difference in her from that moment on, and Berdon was showered with kisses from us all for bringing our friend back to us – he didn't seem to mind that bit.

Whilst he was outside relieving his anger, Epp called Mousa and I into a small study which she used as an office. She said nothing at first, just let her tears drip, then she handed over a piece of paper to Mousa who asked me to help her read it through, as Epp knew she would.

The handwriting was very child-like but nevertheless clear.

“Dearest Epp,

I find I must do this today that your last days of this year are filled with sadness, rather than to start a New Year with anything other than pleasure and hope.

I have valued your friendship, your determination and your clarity of vision as we have lived and worked together over the years. Looking at young Julina, I see that the future of our tiny part of this world is in good hands and I am sure you will continue to be a shining example to her.

Mistress Lendra assures me than my self-diagnosis is correct and that I indeed have the wasting disease, for which you will be aware there is no cure. With my size, I have no doubt that the body would have sufficient to feed on for another hundred or two of years, but nowadays anything I put into my mouth comes out again at the other end accompanied by much blood.

So I have at last been blessed to see Tranidor, and some other rivers, other than the Blackstone and the Bray. By the time you read this, then I shall have seen the Sufen, and shall be a part of the Palar as it flows down valley. I assume parts of my body shall reach the Sirrel, but I shall not be yet conscious by that time.

Thank you for brightening up the life of this old woman, and anything of mine still in Blackstone is yours to do with as you will.

Perhaps some of it might help with the fund Milady set up for those financially distressed?

I shall get Jafferkin, who by the way loves you very much, mostly I feel as a daughter, to take me across the Sufen where I shall take my final Bath.

All my love, my friend.

Gramobona.”

Epp had gone off early this morning to get a semaphore message sent to Blackstone for Griz and Boxklee to bring Surekha down on the shuttle. She had decided to stay in Tranidor for the Midwinter festivities, and to send us back without her. She thought that Josten would appreciate a lighter load.

She waited as advised by the semaphore operators, and within a Bell had received an answer that the three would be on the noon shuttle. We all whistled in awe at that speed of message.

She then called in at her kitchens and it was only after the noon bell that she returned to find the note.

And there had been no-one there to share the sad news with, except Haka, who was also tearful.

But that had helped a little, and the Molly business was an obvious priority. But now, now it was necessary for her to share the news with the two other senior members of this expedition.

And she apologised to us.

The group hug was a major requirement for us all.

We dried our eyes and agreed not to say anything to the others until we were back in Blackstone, not wanting to spoil the wonders of this trip.

… … …

Epp was right in her estimation of events. The sadness at GB's departure was somewhat offset by the recovery of Molly and this made the evening meal bearable.

Just.

Epp had simply stated, very cleverly indeed, that GB had decided to go down river whilst she had the chance, and that we were not to expect her back – particularly since our stay had been so shortened.

The others all accepted that and normal dinner table discussions were held.

Berdon gave some more information about the town and about events and we reciprocated with tales of Blackstone. He was amazed at the Trogan episode and at Milady's rescuing of the Town. And at the improvements that were going on and at the attack on Milady.

Thus we spent fully two Bells at table before he took his leave, his ears resounding with all our thanks, for Molly, for his guiding, for his explanations and his introductions to some places we would otherwise not have seen.

He requested an appointment on the morrow with Epp, Mousa and I and it was arranged to meet him at the “Nest of Skwod”, a small inn/bakery by the market place, for a light lunch; the timing being about the only one suitable for all four of us.

Thus it was with very mixed feelings that I settled into my bed that night.


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Comments

Very nice that Julina's

Very nice that Julina's friend Molly was able to be freed of her compulsions based on being hypnotized. Very sad however that they all lost a good friend GB, who decided to throw herself into the river. And yet, the wheel of life turns on and on.

Names

Skrotum?
Kolston and Bassett?
Silton?

Seriously?

Hahahaha.

But apart from that, thanks for a continuing very good read.

Distant Sunshine

Head Cheese

Is far worst I think. Just saying :(

Is it TB or cancer?

It is too bad medical science will be a long way from solving the latter but antibiotics should be possible soon for the former I think.

I have read the series again and for new readers of Jule's tale it is well worth it as it as it gives one a better feel for the entire story line.

Thankfully Mollena was saved though I am not sure how many people could be as sensitive to it as Molly is.

The Wasting Disease

I would suspect Cancer of some form not TB. TB is an infectious disease that affects the lungs. GB's bleeding is out the other end of her body which sounds more like a gastro-intestinal type of cancer.