A Tale of Time: The Malice of Men

Chapter 24: The things to Come

Many a thing has come to pass and many a thing shall come.

Many a creature was felled in grass and many more shall fall.

When fates beckon and all seems lost then rings the mighty drum,

'To War! To War!' It cries until the whole world hears its hum.

Buying means of passage to the south wasn't easy for Robert, considering the fact that he was twelve, unaccompanied and carried plenty of money. Honest men, he had heard from the streets, were as hard to find as a good stew. Coin was power and everybody wanted it. Subsidies were running low and the quality of food fell every day. Robert had only had a small loaf of bread which he managed to get from the Kings men; soldiers ordered to transport food to all parts of Ëra. They doubled up as sources of information; connections to the world outside. These days though, the news was mostly grim:

There seemed to be no end to the mysterious disease that killed the crops. All attempts to grow them again ended in a thumping failure. Food was running low and wonder of wonders! It was snowing.

The affliction crept up the hills quietly in the night. Apparently, it came from the north, from Windsvale, quickly gathering speed and mass before finally venting their fury. Its long, grasping hands reached as far south as Geldavar. Barastar was lucky to have made it so long.

And he was in Barastar, though only half a day's march from the borders of Kerevör. 'What does it matter?' He asked himself. 'I still have a long, long way to go.' He did decide. He was going to follow the instructions of his sister, for once. Every part of him was screaming, begging him to turn back home, but there was something here that was far more important. Something bigger than home, bigger that Robert and all the antics Rayenna was usually up to, and Robert intended to find out what it was.

So he set about looking for a caravan that would take him.

Most were ready to provide passage south, given that the passenger pulled his own weight. They had to help in other duties as well. Burden was seldom appreciated. Given the harsh times, a lot of people were trying to make it south, where the weather was warmer and Summersdale (and food) was nearer. Traders went south all the time, having sold a sufficient amount of goods here. Spices, cloth, jars and food, always more food, found its way into eager hands.

Robert's first attempt was a little awkward.

The tradesman was almost a foot taller than the undernourished little boy with moist eyes staring up at him. He was chiding someone, probably his apprentice (he certainly had the countenance of one). "Don't tell me what to do, boy! I have been selling grain for twenty years now. Are you twenty?"

"No Sir." The poor lad replied in a small voice.

"What was that again? I thought you could speak, or have you gone dumb since morning?"

"No Sir. " The apprentice replied in a voice that was only slightly louder that the first. All the while, he stared at his boots.

Robert kept his distance for a while, but finally the wait was too much. Standing on his toes, he tugged at the merchant's sleeve.

The merchant didn't notice. He continued to torment the poor boy who had the misfortune of working for him.

"Do you know why we don't exchange our mules? Do you know?"

"No sir."

Robert tugged again, this time a little harder. "Sir." He said in a timid voice to match that of the apprentice.