The Taleweaver

Arrival, part seven

Harbend noted how Arthur turned inwards again and spent the rest of the slow but shaky ride watching the red gravel on the road between the ears of the mule. He had calmed down by now but hoped the strange trader wouldn't bring an economic fiasco by behaving this way later, because that was something Harbend could not afford. News from Hasselden was troubled these days and he desperately needed money to stave off a threatening bankruptcy despite his trading skills allowing him to see bad times through this far. Either that or throw his two employees on the street, and honor forbade such an action.

The road continued into what at first sight looked like a cave but at a closer look was clearly man made. Gravel was replaced by concrete and daylight by lamplight. The train for Verd waited for them in the middle of the tunnel ready to run out to the farmlands west of the ridge. The air was heavy with the smell of smoke and soot.

"I'll be damned!" Arthur's voice told Harbend his fellow traveler had finally noticed one part of their ride was coming to an end.

"We are the last. We should enter," Harbend said.

"A locomotive, a real, honest, black, steam engine. I haven't seen one outside a theme park before. Three hours to the capital. No bloody wonder!"

"Still the fastest means of traveling in this part of the world. For the people living where we are going it is regarded as a mechanical wonder."

"Oh, the wonders of technology," Arthur answered scornfully as he mounted the stairs.

Harbend shrugged and climbed inside. He sat down by a window and with the tunnel being far cooler than the outside he immediately felt how soaked with sweat his clothes were. Greatly discomforted he adjusted his wet trousers.

A sudden tug suggested that the train had started. A distant rumble confirmed it and the lights in the tunnel slowly passed by.

After a short while they were out in the open again and Harbend leaned backwards watching the landscape change character. The ridge marked the western border of the small territory given to the outworlders and on this side of it farmsteads, planted fields and herds of grazing horses and cattle made a stark contrast to the barren lands surrounding the sky port. The large herds of horses played a vital part in Keen's dominance over the region. Not only were they a necessity for the cavalry but they also kept the all important trade alive. Keen thrived on craft and trade. Much more so than his homeland in distant Khi.

Thinking of home made him strangely depressed. Even though coastal defenses and an exceptional army made any invasion attempt impossible, Keen's lack of a strong navy left the raiders masters of the sea. That effectively cut his chances to pay his home a visit, not to speak of trading.

As they passed more fields he noted that harvest would come shortly, detachments of soldiers helping farmers during the busy harvest days already marching through the villages. With harvest completed an eightday of frantic celebrations awaited the farmers. It was tradition. Verd celebrated its own version of the festival.

He turned to Arthur only to find he'd already fallen asleep. Harbend smiled. A long day already and it wasn't over yet. He decided to steal a few hours of sleep himself.