The Rise of Azkoval
Chapter 58: Change is in the Wind

Copyright© 2018 by Jay Cantrell

The king’s group was on the road shortly after the sun arose. This day, he managed to ride alone after pointing out to Annette that she was unsafe with him on the rougher terrain. His suggestion that she travel on the wagon was met with a firm shake of her head. She had loved the feeling of riding a horse – even if her rump had not.

“Then you should ride with our most experienced horsewoman,” the king decided, gesturing to Liala. “I am fine on the flat ground, Annette, but we are entering hills and slopes. I do not know how Blaze will react – and I do not know how I will react. I do not trust your safety riding with me this day.”

“He is correct,” Liala had offered with a smile. “It happens so infrequently that I feel the need to point it out to all when it occurs.”

“I learned to ride behind Liala,” Bianca added. “She prefers you ride behind her and I think it is less bumpy at the rear.”

That earned the king a pointed glare from a 13-year-old girl – one he immediately noticed she had acquired via her friendship with the older females.

“I have ridden a horse barely more often than you have!” Joseph protested. “Perhaps that information should have been imparted earlier in our journey by those with knowledge of such things.”

“We must be on our way if we wish to make the Great River before nightfall,” Rucar said, hoping to end the argument. They were less than a day from the large crossing by Rucar’s reckoning and might be across it before the sunset if they did not dawdle.

“I will ride with Liala then,” Annette announced with a theatrical sigh. The group began its southwesterly march just as the sun crested the eastern horizon. In a week, they had cut through Genrico’s territory and into its neighbor, Lord Tolliver’s holding. They had spent a day following the coastal road that once led to Blue Harbor before veering southward into the Symonds district.

Symonds was a large holding but was mostly timber and mountains except for a swatch of arable farmland in the north and west. A mountain range crested in the middle of the holding and Rucar had steered the group eastward toward what, until recently, had been the land held by Golrick. Part of his reasoning for leaving the castle during Court was to avoid the gentry. If they did not know his face, he could do his own work in some of their holdings.

Another was to scout a route for the king’s trip to Hulett. He had travelled most of Azkoval during his days as an outlaw and he knew there were some places a group this large could not pass. The mountains in the Symonds district had posed problems for even his small band on foot. There was no way to take horses through some of the passes without facing almost certain death.

So he had kept them on level ground and skirted the mountains despite the extra time it took. But there was no way around the rocky hills that led down to where the river flowed. He only hoped the paths he had chosen had led them close to the only fordable section of the river he’d found. He wasn’t interested in seeing how horses reacted to being on a flatboat.

Once they crossed the river, it would be less than a week of travel to Yerrick’s family home. Rucar had kept the change in his family’s fortune from reaching Yerrick or Lydia’s ears. To do that, he had kept it from the king.

Joseph had given him free reign to make changes in the Hulett area and Rucar had taken him at his word. Those with farming experience now lived on farmlands. The stonemason and his family now resided near to the quarry. Those with no discernible skills – but with other ties to the Huletts – had been relegated to the small hovels that sat on land with little value.

Morten had immediately stopped providing coin to those that lived nearest the manor and, instead, had assessed a large fine against them since most had not paid taxes during King Joseph’s reign. Belinda, the young woman once betrothed to Yerrick, and her older husband, Humphrey, had fallen the farthest. They no longer lived in a large house just down from the Hulett’s manor. They had no children yet so they did not need a large house. Humphrey’s main skill was drinking ale and Belinda’s value fell to things better left unspoken in polite company.

They had been moved, by force, to the small home where Rucar had found the parents of his young guide. Melina and her family now would be responsible for farming the lush land that had gone fallow while Humphrey and his bride lived there. Stam had said the family were good farmers and that was all the recommendation Rucar and Morten had needed.

Several other families now would work the arable land in Hulett and Morten was already predicting a net increase of five for the following year.

Choran’s young protégé had proven worthy of his new post. He had immediately taken charge of the manor, dismissing many of the household staff who had been given jobs for no discernible reason and promoting those that worked hard and did well.

The soldiers had been compelled to knock a few heads about when some people grumbled too loudly – or promised vengeance when the lord and his family returned – but most in the region had accepted the new leadership with equanimity. In truth, for most it mattered little who resided in the manor house. They earned so little coin in their daily toils that it was almost impossible to assess a tax on them. Morten, however, pointed out to many of them that while the lord was interchangeable, the men and women that toiled the land were of great importance.

For the first time in recent memory, Morten had predicted that Hulett would not have to import food the following year. That would lower the cost on daily staples such as bread, butter and bacon, and permit the tenants to keep some of their hard-earned coppers for other uses.

Yerrick’s family had found the importance of the horses during their first demonstration. Iwia and Janna had challenged Storrick and Tomias, Yerrick’s brothers, to a contest to see who could bring the most stone out of the quarry before midday. The two young women together did not weigh as much as one of the young men. They were slight and lean, a bit shorter than Liala but with the same sort of sinewy muscle that graced her frame.

They two young women and their horses had defeated the experienced, larger man handily. The contest had grown so one-sided that, at mid-morning, Iwia and Janna had stopped removing the rocks entirely. The spent the last half of morning moving what they had already extracted to where Stam could begin cutting and shaping it.

The men with their oxen still didn’t manage to overtake the women. The slope had turned to mud as the animals strained to move forward. The oxen had grown balky and, eventually, had simply stopped moving altogether. Once the contest was over, Iwia and Janna had taken the draft horses into the pit, selected one of the largest rocks and had it moved to a wagon. Storrick and Tomias had simply stood at the top, shaking their heads in dismay as the horses and wagon moved something they had tried for weeks to figure out how to extract.

Rucar and Stam had laughed uproariously at the outcome but the good-natured young men hadn’t grown angry. Instead, they joined in the amusement at having been bested by two tiny women with little to no experience in stone quarries.

Rucar had kept this story to himself, too. He wanted the king to experience the story from those involved rather than secondhand. He also didn’t want the king to know the full story in Hulett. The king would have been outraged – and felt emasculated by his inability to do anything to punish the Huletts. Once again, the king’s morals and laws had tied his hands.

Still, Rucar knew the soldiers would be an effective deterrent to a slide back into the morass. If nothing else, the cost of housing and feeding 50 men would cut deeply into the lordship’s coffers. Rucar thought it might be fitting justice to watch Lord Hulett and his children learn to live on a bowlful of cereal each day – as he’d found Melina had been doing. Of course, that was before he met Roderick and Annette.

He suspected those two had enough wits about them to keep their bellies full.

He looked back to where the pair rode, side by side. Roderick rode beside Liala’s horse but far enough back that he could talk to his sister. He smiled when Annette stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Blaze rode in the center of the column with Julia on one side and Catherine on the other. The king’s protectors alternated their duties, Rucar had noticed. Two normally rode in front of him; two rode at his side and three rode behind him. Since Annette was aboard Liala’s horse, the Troyvettian duchess had dropped out of the rotation. She now rode just behind the second wagon.

“Are we near to my birthplace?” Julia asked the king.

“No,” Joseph answered. “Certainly we are closer than we were two weeks ago but it is still a long way. We have not even reached the river yet. That was a six-week walk from your former home. Have you forgotten already?”

“I have not,” Julia said. “It just seems as though we’re moving much swifter now. It seems as though we could be to Creight in another week.”

“Another month perhaps,” Joseph told her. “The holdings in the south are much larger than those in the north. I do not know why that is so. Perhaps it is because the southlands are so mountainous. There was no mention of the reasoning in the archives and that is all I have to fall back on.”

“Bianca said there is a different country on Halversham’s border,” Catherine said. “Is that Creight?”

“No,” Joseph replied again. “That is Samir.”

“I have not heard of that country before,” Julia admitted.

“Most haven’t,” Joseph replied. “They are very isolated.”

“Do we have an emissary there?” Catherine wondered.

“We tried,” Joseph told them. “They turned us away without even permitting us into their harbor. In all my travels, I have never met a single person from Samir.”

“Bianca said they have a wall on the border like we have around the capital,” Catherine noted.

“I am not surprised,” Joseph said. “As I told you, I have only the archives for my knowledge. They are extensive but they do not tell us everything. The Samiris have lived in isolation for hundreds of years and dozens of kings. No one knows much about them. They do not trade with any other country that I know about. Their people do not explore or travel. The sailors told me that there wasn’t even a dock in the harbor for ships to land. They do not make warfare so people are content to leave them alone.”

“But they are on our border,” Julia insisted. “We are friends even with Creight now and I know you have sent an emissary to Greanly. Even the lands across the water trade with us. Why would a country so close to us keep us away?”

“No reason I can think of,” Joseph agreed. “But they do. I was not about to send soldiers to compel them to be our allies. They live in peace. I have found only a few references to them in the archives and none mention incursions or attacks or even peaceful interactions. The notations simply say that we attempted to make contact and were rebuffed. That’s what I had Choran add to my portion.”

“It just seems strange that no one ever comes or goes,” Julia said. “People came through the pass all the time from Creight even before The Fall. We were practically at war with them and they still came into the village from the other side of the border.”

“I do not know what to tell you,” Joseph answered. “If they wish to be left alone, I am content to leave them alone. They built a wall to keep us out, after all. Perhaps they have discovered a wonderful existence over there and do not wish to share it. Maybe they fear invasion if anyone knew how great their lives are.”

“Or perhaps they are ruled by a despot that controls every facet of life for the citizens,” Julia pointed out. “Maybe the peasants live in constant fear so none try to leave. The wall could be used to keep people in just as easily as keeping people out.”

“True,” Joseph said with a nod. “But I have found that those living under despotic regimes somehow find a way to escape. Besides, it makes me happier to think that we live next door to Utopia than it does to think we live next door to what you describe. If you will excuse me, I must speak to Rucar for a moment.”

Joseph urged Blaze forward until he was beside the wagon.

“I have thought about what you said on our first night,” the king said. “I believe I understand who you were talking about. Unless things change over the course of visit to Hulett, I will begin to consider my choice of queen when we return to Tyrell.”


Celestine used her dagger to lift the latch of the satchel upward. The top fell to the side and she quickly stepped to the side.

She had inspected the bag and found no outward sign of traps. The only thing she found usual was the material. The satchel was made of leather but the bottom and sides were hardened steel. No one was going to cut a hole in it in order to steal its contents.

“Gods above,” Celestine said as she looked down into the open top.

“What is it?” Jonathan asked. He had followed the maid’s suggestion that he remain near to the door.

“Take a look,” Celestine offered.

Jonathan peered into the bag and jerked his head away almost immediately. There was a crossbow bolt staring back at him from inside the satchel.

“How does it fire?” Jonathan asked.

“I have no idea,” Celestine admitted with a laugh. “I’m glad we waited this long though. I would imagine that the tip has been dipped in poison. Step outside for a moment.”

Jonathan looked at her but did as she commanded. He heard a muffled sound and then a louder one. He peered around the corner and saw Celestine crouched in the middle of the floor but looking at the ceiling. Jonathan followed her gaze and saw the bolt sticking out of the stone ceiling.

“That would have taken someone’s head off,” he said.

“I believe that was the point,” Celestine said. She picked up the bag from against the wall where she had kicked it in order to try to trip the trap. She picked it up and dumped the contents onto the floor. At first glance, the things appeared innocuous. There were two pairs of trousers, a set of small clothes and two silk shirts.

It wasn’t until Celestine picked up of the shirts that anything usual came into view. Two flasks had been wrapped up in the silk. Celestine pulled the stopper from the first and sniffed. She pulled her head backward as quickly as Jonathan had earlier.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Celestine admitted. “I doubt we will wish to have it with our evening meal, though.”

“Poison?” Jonathan asked incredulous.

“That would be my estimate,” Celestine agreed. “It is not water or even wine or ale that has gone sour. It smells ... bitter. It is not something I’ve smelled before – and not something I wish to smell again.”

“Perhaps Rucar can tell us when he returns,” Jonathan said hopefully.

“I do not believe so,” Celestine countered. “Poison is not his milieu. I have a rudimentary knowledge of which herbs can be used for certain things. We fed more than one of the usurper’s soldiers his final meal. I believe we will have to seek an alchemist to examine this.”

“Frauds,” Jonathan grumped.

“I do not believe Zeron will find a way to turn lead into gold but he is skilled at separating things to their core elements,” Celestine said as she opened the second flask. “This one is different. It’s sweeter smelling. It might be the antidote to whatever is in this one.”

 
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