043 – Unanswered Questions, Unquestioned Answers

While traveling with this group, Caspian and Steven put together what the trouble was with the other one.

“I think that last group was actually an army in disguise.” Caspian said it first, as Steven thought it.

Abey looked puzzled. “Why is that?”

“Because they looked like this group. But already having a mission.” Caspian surprised Steven in that line of thought.

Steven looked around. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that this trading company is the Mountain Wolf Trading Company.”

Abey interrupted, adding her own realization. “Who are also the Marauding Wolf Mercenary’s. I had forgotten that.”

“Right. But these guys, aren’t going to a fight,” Caspian looked at the camp around them. “They are here on legitimate business. They have too much cargo for otherwise, including those small herds of sheep and cows.”

Steven finally put it all together. “But the other company was going on a march; and heading toward the capitol. Veradale.”

Abey stopped listening, as the two men continued.

“Right. They were under too much discipline and not carrying enough merchandise to be more than a cover. I just wonder who is behind this.” Caspian scratched on the ground with his staff.

“Should The King be warned? I get the impression that he is generally doing a good job.” Steven turned the steak over in the borrowed fry pan and checked it for how cooked it was.

“He should be, if they march against him. Sending small armies as merchants is an old ploy, just for reconnaissance most of the time.” Caspian waited for the bread in the dutch oven under the stew.

“That was not a recon-force. Now that I think about them, they looked like a light assault force.” Steven pulled the steak off and started to cut it up for dipping in his stew.

A new voice joined the conversation. “You still have not answered the question, wizard. Should The King be warned?” One of the wagon masters entered the light of their campfire. “May I share your fire?”

Steven and Caspian both looked up. Abey looked across the fire, and appraised the man briefly. He looked to be halfway between Abey and Caspian in height. He wore road-dusty home spun, and a leather tunic with a girdle at the waist. Several pouches and a knife hung from the girdle.

Caspian motioned. “Please sit.”

Abey blurted out “You’re the Marauding Wolves, aren’t you.”

The man cocked his head, in good humor, as he sat on the log. “And if we are?”

Caspian answered. “The King could use your help. You know of a potentially hostile group. As mercenaries, I suppose you have no stake in the matter. But as decent men, you owe it to justice to at least warn him.”

“You say ‘mercenaries’ like it’s a bad thing,” the wagon master poked a stick into the fire.

Steven rejoined the conversation. “I was a professional soldier for several years. Mercenaries were not always looked upon with great favor where I come from. But they can do things that standing armies can’t.”

“Hum,” the stick in the fire turned over.

Abey piped up again. “We’ve heard of the Marauding Wolves up in the Jemed Highlands.”

The man smiled a bit. “We’ve even been up in the Jemed Highlands, a time or three, and have a few in our ranks from there. And you still have unanswered questions, wizard. Who’s sending the army? Where? And should the target be warned?”

“You won’t warn the locals?” Steven asked.

“We are merchants. We don’t do much for free.” The stick ignited in the fire.

“And if this group endangers your trade?” Caspian added. He pulled the stew pot off the top of the dutch oven, then pulled the dutch oven from the coals, and put the stew pot back. He let the dutch oven cool a bit.

“We’ll see about that, and deal with it as it happens.” The man pushed the stick into the fire, breaking it in the process.

Caspian and Steven took turns explaining what they had seen in the prior caravan, and trying to convince this man to warn the locals, as his word would carry more weight than their own. Along the way, Caspian pulled the loaf of bread from the dutch oven, pulled it apart and passed it around, including giving a handful to the guest, who declined a full piece, having his own dinner elsewhere.

The man stayed good natured, but was quite attentive to Steven’s report of the disposition, and Caspian’s report of the numbers of the other caravan. In the end he stayed completely noncommittal to spreading any warning. Not that he wanted to see a fight or people hurt, but rather that he did not have any lookout for the people in the city and their police and military could fend well enough for themselves.

The weapons master approached them as they sat around mulling about after finishing eating, and began testing them for their skills. He dressed the same as the wagon master, but carried some things with him. Caspian was completely ignorant of swords but very skilled with what he did carry. Steven got a quick test on his weapon knowledge. “He’ll do” was the verdict.

He then turned to Abey. Quickly he began to teach her to use a sword using a set of practice sticks. Steven noticed that these looked the same as the sticks that the children had previously been running about with.

The man stood next to Abey, instructing. “Hold the stick with both hands. Good, but point it more forward. Where that tip is, is how close your enemy can get to you unharmed. So keep that tip as far forward as you can. Elbows bent, arms forward, relaxed. Ready, now.”

He looked at her stance, as she stood holding the prop sword, and adjusted her stance slightly here and there. He then took the other sword and faced her, crossing blades slightly.

“Now, hit me.”

Abey swung the sword back, to bring it forward with more force, and he stepped in and tapped her neck with the flat of his wood blade.

“You opened your guard.” He stepped back. “Try again.”

They started again. Abey struck his aside and stepped in. He turned his stick from the momentum, and parried her stick up, and around stepping back.

“Good. You can hold on and control it. Now let’s start at the basics. Defense. Start at neutral. Now just block me, don’t worry about anything else.”

He started slow. Swing from this side. That side. Up. Down. Thrust. He settled into a regular cadence, without developing a pattern. Abey was quickly catching all of his strikes, so he upped the cadence. Then she caught one and drove his tip into the ground.

“Enough two hand. I prefer single hand or paired knives.”

“O.k.” He changed her stick for the short sword at his belt.

Abey took it carefully, feeling it and testing its balance.

The Weapon Master held up his stick again, choked up to match her reduced length. “Same drill, try and slap me with the flat of that blade.”

As they went, Steven and Caspian watched. The man was good enough that Abey could not touch him, but she was good enough instinctively that she held her own, and ended by cutting a chunk of the stick off.

The weapon master finished his lesson, and took Abey with to talk more as he left. Caspian and Steven watched them go.

Steven sitting on the ground with his back against a log spoke first. “Do you think Abey might have just found her home?”

Caspian was digging in the coals of their slowly dying cooking fire idly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I doubt she can be of much help in retrieving my kids. As I understand that task ahead of us, once we get Rox, we have a sprint south. The fewer people to take the better. Further, you have not shown any interest in her, nor she in you.” Steven watched the stick Caspian was digging with.

Caspian did not look up. “Abey is too young for me. But I think you are right, she would be help as an extra hand, but not as an extra mouth. Her company is nice, and she has been helpful. It’s not that I don’t want her about…”

Steven picked up the hanging thought. “You are just used to working alone. I noticed in the last city, she seemed initially torn over whether to stay with us or not. But she swore to stay with until we got Rox. When we were initially with that last train, she seamed to consider whether to ask to join them.”

Caspian finished this line of thought. “She seems to be doing so again. I suppose it would be a good match.”

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 46

You can always trust a trucker, at least as far as you can throw him.

The next morning when they started out, Abey was invited to unload Miri and tie him to a wagon’s back end, and to climb up onto the driver’s bench. The Wagon Master invited Steven to ride with him. Steven took his pack off and hung it on a peg on the side of the large wagon. The two of them sat on the bench as the draft team pulled the cart.

“Steven, Abey reports that she is in bond to you. Care to explain about this?”

Steven glanced over. He had not thought much of this in the last two weeks.

“Well, I guess Abey feels she owes me her life. She was in a bad situation and I saved her from it by picking her up and bringing her with me. Now she feels indebted to me. For myself, I am a stranger to this custom, so as far as I am worried about it, I simply did the right thing, and her gratitude is sufficient repayment.”

“So if she were to leave your company you would not be upset.” The Wagon Master idly held the reins, as the four-beast team pulled the wagon along the road.

Steven smiled and shook his head. “Not in the least bit. She has been pleasant company, but I expect to rejoin my wife in this city we are headed toward, and having Abey along might be awkward.”

“She reports that the wizard is not interested.”

“No. He is looking for someone older. Apparently there has been quite a bit of conversation about this, between her and your people. I have no issue with her going with you. She is of age and independent, as far as I am concerned.” Steven found the reins put in his hands.

“Keep them going straight. I will send someone to take over.” The Wagon Master turned and hopped off the moving wagon, and disappeared.

A boy that Steven figured was a little older than Diana soon hopped up and took the reins when Steven handed them off. Steven rode along up here for a bit. After an hour he hopped down. As the cart went past, he saw that several people walked along behind, between this and the next wagon. A woman saw Steven and motioned to one of her older sons, who went up and climbed on the front bench. Steven nodded to her and slowed his walking pace waiting for Caspian to catch up, wherever he was in the train. Abey was three wagons back, holding the reins as a girl about her age rode with her. The roads were slightly damp from a morning mist.

Finally Caspian appeared. He walked about halfway along the train. Cyrril was elsewhere. Steven fell into step.

“I think Abey is going to be leaving us once we get to the city. The Wagon Master just asked me essentially for leave to have her join. Now I need to talk with her about it. She is on the third wagon in the train, learning to drive.” Steven fell into easy cadence with Caspian’s shorter stride.

Caspian’s staff counted time as he walked. “I expect she already knows how to drive a team. I do, and I have only farmed for two years. They are probably just testing her to see how well she does.”