Chapter 9

There were six wagons, twelve drovers and a half dozen outriders, not counting myself. I was what the wagon master called 'supercargo'. I was along for the trip, but not accounted for on either the train's manifest or her roster.

"We're hauling rough sawn logs, so there's little need for guards or a night watch on these hauls," Drummon told me conversationally. He was the oldest of the outriders, and he'd taken a liking to me when he'd seen the tattoos on my hands. "Still, there are beasts and brigands who'll take advantage of those who don't keep an eye out. Mostly we're along on these rides as extra muscle in case a wheel or axle needs fixing. These logs are heavy, and it takes an experienced hand to wrangle them on and off these carts, even as low slung as they are."

Low slung indeed. If we weren't riding on a well maintained road, these carts would be close to useless. They had little in the way of ground clearance, and their heavy wheels and stiff frames would be cumbersome to drive on anything less manicured. Their low slung frames made loading and unloading the logs they carried far easier than it would have been otherwise, even allowing them to be loaded or unloaded in an emergency alongside the road. Lucat, the wagon master, didn't seem too concerned about this eventuality, and in truth, having heard the trip described, neither was I. This train, as massively loaded as it was, would be going hardly more than fifty miles, most of that downhill, before the logs would be unloaded on barges for the remainder of their trip.

"Sure wouldn't mind having a wizard along for the ride back, sometimes," Drummon continued, bringing me back out of my thoughts. "The northbound barges bring a lot of delicacies and doodads that are a good bit more tantalizing to the criminally minded."

"The criminally minded?" I said with some amusement. "You almost make it sound like the miscreants have no choice but to steal!"

"I sometimes wonder, wizard, what makes men behave in any particular way; why men tend to choose one particular path over another. I wonder how so many can agree on what is the right path, when I see nothing compelling us to do so."

"You do not believe that Gaen directs us, succors and rewards us and promotes correct behavior?"

"I would like to believe that, but if it were within Gaen's power to do so, then why are we all not on the same path to begin with?"

"You ask good questions, outrider, and ones I have no easy answers for. As a wizard, I can feel Gaen's power. I can see the will of a King be answered by Gaen. It lends me some appreciation for the sense of purpose and direction that those of the Right Born wield. Those I know within the Right Born wouldn't hesitate to say that theirs is a power granted by Gaen, for my part, I know, as much as I know anything, that Gaen has moved me along the path I am on."

"Well and good for you, wizard, but not all will see it that way. I know you folks of power — wizard or king, apprentice or prince, tend to see life as a great game of chess, and that kings and wizards and men are all pieces upon the great chess board we call Gaen," he paused, waiting for me to jump in if I wanted, but I saw no reason to. He had a good bit of wind in his sails and I wanted to see which way it blew him. The pause lingered overlong and he pulled his wineskin up from where it hung beside him and took a long swallow.

"A chess game, yes..." he cleared his throat and flashed me a look. "Some of us see life more like a game of skittles. Some are moved to act, its true, but its just as true that most of us can only stand and wait for the blow to come and wonder whether it will knock us over this time."

Drummon's fatalistic view was a common one, an understandable one for the common man or woman; there were forces obviously at work in the world about them that were beyond their ken, let alone their control. I could hardly blame them. I was a wizard's apprentice after all, one of the might born, and one with particular promise, if I believed my master's opinion of me, and despite that I felt as buffeted and battered by outside forces as anyone.

The road we took wound here and there as it dropped down out of the high mountain passes into the valley south of the vale, but when the winding was done, we were beside the river and barges were waiting for the logs we'd brought them at a small outpost called Ophil's Landing. With a borrowed pair of gloves I joined in the crew's efforts to get the logs moved from the wagons to the barge's deck. The contents of our six wagons fit on a single barge with room left over. There would be other stops along the way south, and other cargoes added as she went. I contemplated taking passage on the barge, our destinations coinciding at several points along the way, but I had Deak, and he was happier with a trail beneath his hooves, so I chose the road.

A half mile down the road, I came around a bend and there sat Kei and Labo, their tongues out and Vulkai grins on their snouts.

"Well, I see you have chosen to disobey me," I said, pleased to see them, but trying to sound disappointed and angry.

<We cannot protect you from Karog's den, > Labo's thought came to me.

<We are young, but pups no longer. We will learn more of men beside you than we would left behind, > Kei added.

<You are going to have to make the effort to learn to speak then, because the men of the southern lands are not used to the Vulkai, and while I will be your protector as much as you will be mine, it would be best if you could speak for yourselves with those we meet.>

"We learn," Labo said aloud. His voice was a rough growl, but understandable — well, I understood it. Others might have considerable troubles with it as it stood.

"Very well, but you will have to practice a lot. From now on, we will speak only, understood?"

"As you command," Kei said.

"If only that were true," I laughed, shaking my head. They at least had the good graces to join me in it.

The valley we were in was wide and grew wider as we moved south and east. The area we passed through was one of low, southern-facing hills with broad stretches of rich, fertile meadowland between them. At first the road was surrounded by trees, much more lightly wooded than the vale, and predominantly deciduous where the North Wood was predominantly evergreen. There were ranch houses and farms sprinkled throughout the region, but widely separated. We saw groves of apple trees, cherry trees, and fields of olives and grapes. The southern exposure of these hills made for ideal conditions for such things.

The warmer temperatures here were already noticeable and the most noticeable effect was with Kei and Labo, who tended to keep their tongues lolling out whether they were sitting or running. For my part, I decided almost immediately that I would have to use a bit of my magic to keep myself cool in my Winter Wolf furs, but it soon occurred to me that while I had indeed noticed them, I hadn't really been bothered by the increasing temperatures. Three days travel south of Ophil's Landing, with my camp set up for the night, I decided to investigate this fact.

I'd built my fire, cooked my dinner, which amused Kei and Labo to no end, having gotten used to my hunting with them in the Winter Wood and sharing the uncooked meal after. Once the food was in my stomach and the evidence of the cooking cleaned and put away I pulled my work rug from my kit and made a place between the fire and the surrounding trees. I stripped my new furs off and laid them out in front of me.

With the pups watching over me, I had little need to set defensive wards, but I did call up surety, a spell I'd woven into my weapons. When called this way, it was more as an assurance that I would see things with precision and accuracy.

With wards set to focus them inward, I let my magic out, letting it swirl about me for a moment before turning it towards the furs. It settled about the furs, and about me, like fog drifting along the shore. I regarded the furs with my eyes, my touch and my memory.

Preparing the hide of the Winter Wolf who had opposed me had been done while I was still recovering from the efforts Ilesa and I had expended in bringing the pups into the world safely. I had been drained, both magically and physically, but I had seen the Vulkai's pelt in a vision while I was connected to Ilesa, and knew they could be the next piece of my rebuilt life, so I had set to the work. I could only work in small spurts, interrupted by the needs of the pups.