Chapter 1

Roland had two more stops to make in the city. One was an apothecary; the other was at the Duke's residence. He had already sold mushrooms at the specialty shop he and his father had always gone to, before.

This was only the second time his father had let him make this trip alone. They made several trips to this city each year to sell herbs, medicinal plants, and teas that they found growing wild.

Roland's father, Berandal, was a tall man and had been a forester all his life. There was nothing he did not know of the forests, or so it seemed to his son, Roland. Last year, when his father had been hired to guide a group over the pass, Roland had been charged to sell all they collected up to that point. This time, it was because his father had taken a fall, and broken his leg. It had been set, but the trip to the city had to go now, or risk getting lower prices for what they had found. With winter coming on hard and fast, they needed all the golds they could get.

Roland drew his horse up, and got off. He dickered briefly with the hostler, and then paid him 2 coppers for the rest of the day. The horse would be well cared for. He removed the bags from the horse, and started walking uphill to the apothecary business.

Ten minutes later, he entered the small shop. It sold healing potions, herbs, and magical items. Roland's father swore this man was much more than he seemed, but would deal fairly with them.

"Ah, Roland! Welcome, welcome indeed. And where is your father?" The apothecary asked him.

"He couldn't come. Broke his leg, and sent me in his stead. I have the herbs for you we collected. Including something father calls, Sparglove. He said you would be particularly interested in that one," Roland said as he opened the pack and pulled out individually wrapped bags.

The apothecary had drawn in his breath sharply at the mention of the Sparglove. Roland's father had said it was a very important magical plant. The apothecary quickly looked over the other plants and herbs Roland brought, and laid them aside. He looked eagerly at the final package.

Roland passed it over. Almost reverently, the apothecary opens the small bundle, and gasped in delight. He looked them over, and seemed disappointed.

"These usually come with three seeds," the apothecary said.

"Aye. Dad carefully removed the seeds. He found a place that he said was perfect, and planted them," Roland said casually.

"Let's see, twelve plants, with 3 seeds to each plant; that's 36 new plants, if they all grow well! Boy, do you know what a gold mine you have stumbled on here? Did your dad tell you how much he wanted for these?" Roland was asked.

"Yes, Sir. He said to tell you to make an offer, but that if it did not meet his minimum to take the plants elsewhere," Roland said.

The apothecary laughed. "Well then, I will offer 2 gold per plant, how does that suit your father?"

Roland was very happy. His dad had told him accept no less than 1 gold 8 silver per plant. This was two whole silvers more per plant than Dad had thought to get! 12 plants at 2 gold per was 24 gold's! That was two gold and four silver more that what he had been told to bring back!

They finished up, and Roland collected all the moneys for the herbs, plus the golds for the Sparglove. All in all, this trip to the apothecary, alone, had paid them almost 30 gold! He still had a stop at the Duke's to sell the night mushrooms to the cooks. The Duke loved mushrooms, and the night mushrooms were particularly tasty to him.

Shouldering his bag, he walked the 2 miles to the Duke's home. He had set out a brisk pace, and his long legs ate up the distance quickly. He found the servant's entrance and dickered with the head cook. When it was done, he had sold three pounds of mushrooms, for a little over 7 silvers. Another good price!

Next, Roland went to the teamsters and inquired about hiring a wagon. With a wagon along, the normal five-day trip back home, would be more like eight days to make, but it would be worth it. Berandal had been very specific on what Roland purchase for winter supplies. It would take a good wagon -load to carry everything Berandal wanted.

Coming to agreement on renting a wagon, two drivers, and two horses to pull the wagon; Roland then spent the rest of the day in the market, going from place to place within the market, buying and having his items put aside for the wagon to pick up.

Finally, everything was loaded in the wagon. The list was quite lengthy: flour to last the winter months, corn meal, grain for the two horses they owned, new boots for both he and his father, as well as warm cloaks and gloves. Roland also bought good warm pants for both, as well as shirts. Other supplies were also bought and paid for, and would be used throughout the winter. Some would be used in trade with the village that was close to their home.

As it was getting late, Roland decided to spend the night at an inn he and his father had often used in the past. He told the drivers to meet him at the west gate in the morning with the wagon, ready to depart. With a nod, they drove off, and Rolland retrieved his horse and made his way into the inn.

The inn was located in the lower city, close to the west gate itself. Unless you lived in the upper city, you could not take a horse past the upper city gates, which is why Roland had put up his horse. That left you two ways of getting around in the upper city. Walking, or hiring a carriage.

The market bordered the upper and lower city, and was open to all. Horses were frowned upon in the market. The Duke disliked droppings anywhere in the market place. Teamsters were told to clean up their messes, as the fines imposed could be ruinous.

Roland got to the inn and dickered briefly with the owner for a place for the night for he and his horse. The price had gone up a bit since he last was here. Still, he was pleased, and knew his father would be also. With everything from the list purchased, he still had almost 12 gold left.

After eating two bowls of stew and drinking the mug of ale that came with the meal, Roland went outside and looked around. In the distance he saw the outer wall which totally encircled the city.

He was amazed anew at how something as big as those thirty-foot high walls could have been built so quickly. The city was only twenty years old. Magic explained a lot, but still, to Roland, a young man of 16 years of age, it seemed impossible.

Thousands upon thousands of people lived and worked in the city. The fields outside the city were all being farmed. There seemed to be something going on, everywhere he looked. He could not believe so many people could find so much to do, here.

While the city was exciting, to Roland it seemed noisy, and crowded. He could not understand why people would want to live here. Sure, it was interesting to visit, but the forests! Out among the trees, you pitting your skill against that of what you hunted. That was how one should live.

He was up early the next day. After eating a breakfast of porridge, he went out and tended his horse, and saddled and bridled him. He had only waited a short time, when th saw the wagon with his supplies, rolling down the road towards the gate.

He mounted his horse and quickly caught up to the wagon. Just before they got to it, the west gate opened for the day, and they did not even have to stop. They made pretty good time the first day, but Roland was impatient with the slow pace. If he had been alone, he would have been miles farther along. He sighed to himself. It would be a long eight days.