Chapter 3: Towards a new home

The road from the Northern Mountains was cold and slippery but largely deserted, the long siege had diverted normal trading traffic to safer passages and the presence of the Queen’s Regent Marija’s resurgent Army was keeping the Queen’s law now in what was until recently Bandit country. It was already dark when the party made their first stop.

As we all ate our warmed up supper and bread in front of a fire, hardly anything was said between any of us, it seemed that the woman was resigned to her fate, though she was free of one type of prison at least.

I had decided that our most convenient transport to commandeer was a two-wheeled cart pulled by one draught horse, but craved a boon from the Quartermaster for a second horse so that they could take the pulling in turns to cover the greatest distance in the shortest time. I also tied my own saddled mount to the back of the cart. We were given generous provisions by the Quartermaster including milk for the baby; I had been a popular Sergeant, in six years of war I was always fair and reasonable with orders, concerned never to waste a life if there was a safer way to ensure victory.

“A clean crate, with pillows and blankets has made a comfortable crib for three-month-old Doadi, straw sacks and woollen blankets are makeshift cots for 18-month-old Cari and two-year-old Balli. All three girls are whorehouse orphans,” declared the otherwise closed mouth woman, when the children slept, “The boy Tomi is my own son from the first Bandit chieftain who took me for his own after I was kidnapped.”

This much was all I learned after three quiet nights and days on the road.

At the ‘Rising Sun Inn’ in Kliburne, on the coast of Western Province, the Peer’s ring and covering letter guaranteed by Lord Alderlea’s seal, secured what I requested, a single family chamber for two with cots and blankets brought up for the four children and the first hot meal that we hadn’t needed to heat up ourselves.

The landlord told me, “My Lord, I’ll send for the Alderlea Manor Steward at first light, ‘tis half an hour’s hard ride away but I suggest that your Lordship’s family stay here for at least two nights, as the Manor House might be in need of cleaning and airing ... it has lain shut-up since the day the Lord lost his only son, perished some twenty years since. In his grief, the Lord has devoted his energy to the Queendom, but thee can rest assured that, as the grandson of our Lord, ye’ll be served as if you and your Ladyship were the Lord and Ladyship themselves.”

The exhausted children were soon dozing after their hot meal, the two elder girls even dropping off in my arms for the second night in a row and I carefully laid them into their cots. Then Princess Jarolyn and I sat together on the bed, the chamber dimly lit by a single wax candle.

“What happens to us, all of us, on the morrow, Tomas?” she asked, “when you get to where you are headed?’

“My papers indicate that our good friend Lord Alderlea has adopted me as his grandson, which means very soon, depending on the state of the manor house, we can live a quiet life away from war and royal intrigue in Lord Alderlea’s manor but we will have to take care not to draw too much attention to us from without.”