The Elemental Jewels (Book 1) (16 page)

Chapter 11

The next day was the end of harvesting.  When the boys and their female companions entered the cider barn for the lunch break, they knew there were only a few trees short of being finished for the day, and for the season.  Despite the presence of the local girls, the boys were mostly quiet, pensive, satisfied, and a bit saddened by the thought that the long season of earning money by picking fruit had ended.  For most of the boys, the apple harvest was the most exciting event of their lives – they knew, from having listened to their fathers and grandfathers tell and retell stories over the years about girls, and storms, and broken ladders, and girls.

Even Grange felt contemplative, though he was not ending his adventure, but only moving on to the next one, and even though the harvest had not been his biggest adventure, only one in a series that had overtaken his young life in recent months.  He realized that chancing upon the harvest gang was the best possible event that could have happened to Garrel and him, as they had stumbled through the mountains in their escape from the tunnel labor camp.   They had been fed and transported in the direction they wanted to travel, they had been given work and direction when they would have otherwise drifted without a rudder, and they had been accepted in a companionship that allowed them to regain a sense of normalcy after being in the prison camp.

“You’re thinking such heavy thoughts,” Ariana pierced his introspection, as she stood up.  “Let’s go finish the orchard, then move on.”

They did help finish the orchard, in less than an hour, and they and the other harvesters ambled back to the wagons, where Thrall and Clarence, Clarine’s father were waiting.

“Good work, all you rascals!” Thrall called out.  “Everyone in the wagon.  We’ll start back north now, and buy supplies at the village markets along the way.

“Grange and Garrel, you come up front and see me,” he added.  The two boys separated from the other harvesters, shaking hands and saying farewells to their crewmates from the past month, working slowly through a line of well-wishers that took several minutes before they finally reached Thrall and Morris.

“So I understand you two still plan to go on to the city, is that correct?  There’s no reason to think you’ll come back to our village with us?  We’d be happy to have a couple of fellows that work as well as you do, and stay out of trouble,” he complimented them sincerely.

“We’re bound to go on our way,” Garrel spoke for them both.

“Then I want to pay you your portion of what we’ve earned this past month.  I’ve taken a bit out for incidentals, but this is a fair share, if you ask me, and I do think it is,” he held out his two large hands with closed fists, then released streams of silver and brass coins into the open hands of the two boys.

“Most of our money will go to buying goods for the village; wax and glass and metal and paper and dried meat and such supplies as we can’t make for ourselves, especially that we’ll need over the winter.  Each of the boys will get a few coins as well, of course, for their own spending,” he added.

“Clarence and Clarine and the girls will drive their wagons on towards the city to sell their produce, and I’m sure you’ll be welcome to ride with them for another day, or maybe not, depending on what old Clarence thinks about your carryings-on with the village girls.  You go on up there and talk to him, and always know that if you’re in the mountains, High Meadow will be happy to offer you our hospitality,” Thrall finished, dismissing them to begin the next chapter of their lives.

“There’s one thing I want to tell you,” Grange said impetuously.

Thrall looked at him expectantly.

“We were in the mountains with people from Fortune, the capital of the kingdom of Verdant,” he said. 

“I’ve heard of it,” Thrall allowed.

“”Verdant is trying to build a canal over the mountains, to carry boats and shipping from the Great River to the Stony Current River,” Grange motioned to the water on their left.  “Someday they may come by your village, for all I know,” he warned.

“Boats in the mountains?” Thrall asked dismissively.

“They’re working hard at it,” Grange warned insistently.  “Just watch out.  They aren’t good people, if they ever come around.”  He wondered about the practicality of the scheme, after seeing the limited size of the Stony Current, and he wondered if anyone from Verdant had ever been across the mountains to see the river before they had planned and invested and labored so much.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Thrall said dismissively.  “Now you boys get on with your lives and be careful.”

The boys nodded their heads in thanks, then began to walk forward.  They heard Thrall rattle his reins, and the wagon wheels began to creak, as the mountain harvesters began their departure.  In that moment, Grange was sure he heard the sound of a door closing on a chapter of his life.

“Sir Clarence,” Garrel spoke up when they reached the two wagons that remained in the afternoon sunlight.  “May we ride with you towards Palmland city?”

“You two are set on seeing the city, are you?” Clarence asked.

“Yes sir,” they both said respectfully.

“I’m going another day downstream, and stopping at Greens Market.  Then I’m turning around and heading home.  Clarine’s coming with me, there’s no doubt about that, is there?” he asked intently.

“No sir,” they both immediately agreed.

“As long as we understand that, you can drive my second wagon,” Clarence told them.  “Get in and shake those reins.  We’ll see if we can reach Greens Market in time for the morning trading exchange.”

“I’ll ride with Grange,” Ariana quickly said, from where she sat in the back of the wagon.

“I’ll join Ariana,” Deana immediately followed suit, slipping down from her place on the bench.

“I’d like to talk with the girls, father,” even Clarine deserted her parent, joining the other young people on the way to the second wagon.

“You’ll come back to me at sunset, won’t you?” her father spoke in a stern manner.

“Of course, papa,” she smiled with dimples, then turned and fled back to where the others were climbing into their wagon.

Clarence shook his head, worried about his daughter, then shook his reins and started the small trading band on its way north towards its final destination.

“Deana, really?” Clarine asked as they all settled into spots on the wagon.  Ariana sat with her hip touching Grange’s, as he held the reins, while Deana and Garrel were sprawled beside one another among the apples in the back of the wagon, and Clarine sat on the tail board, her legs dangling down behind the rear of the wagon.

“Really what?” Deana asked curiously.

“You’re really going to live in the city?  Live in Palmland?” Clarine clarified.

“I think we really are,” she reached over and squeezed Garrel’s hand.  “Aren’t we?” she asked him.

“We are.  We’ll see street performers, and go to dances, watch the crowds in the market – everyday,” he forecast.

“It’ll be exciting,” Deana forecast.  “Just think of me when you’re back in High Meadow this winter with the snow up to the eaves!”

They rode on through the afternoon, and stopped in the evening at a tavern in a large village, where Clarence bought bowls of stew for everyone, and a mug of dark ale for himself.  Clarine moved up to the front wagon, and then they rode through the night, under a sky that grew increasingly cloudy, blocking out the view of the stars and the half moon.

Morning light arrived just as they arrived at their destination.  Greens Market was a large, open trading fair, without a village or city, just strings of tents and shacks lining the incoming roads that led to the hive of wagons and tables that sprawled over acres of land near several boat docks in the river.  Clarence led the two wagons through a maze of unmarked spaces to arrive in a region where produce and fruits were the most prominent items.  Along the way they had passed freshly caught fish, slabs of butchered, salted, and smoked meat, woven goods, leather items, and a variety of submarkets within Greens Market’s sprawling exchange.  The people were dressed in a host of colorful costumes, unlike anything the two boys from Fortune had ever seen.

“Garrel, Grange, unload those crates of cider,” Clarence commanded, as he began to pile bags of apples in front of his wagon.

The two boys and their companions lifted the heavy crates of cider jugs down from the bed of the wagon, while prospective buyers strolled by, covertly and overtly examining the wares.  Some carried bags; others pushed carts, while a few even had slaves and porters toting loads of items after them.

“May I sample?” one man with a large cart asked Garrel as the crates were stacked.

Garrel shouted over to Clarence at the other wagon, “are we giving samples?”

“Open one jug,” Clarence shouted back.

“How much for the cider?” the man asked after swilling a mouthful of the sample for a few seconds, bringing Clarence over to begin to dicker.

The two boys stepped back and listened to the exchange, as the men bargained over quantities and costs, then settled on the sale of four cases of cider jugs, which the boys loaded on the cart as the men exchanged coins.

As quickly as the first transaction occurred, more buyers stopped at the wagon, and began to ask for samples, prices, and quantities of apples.  Clarence was the only merchant present selling apples and cider, and as word spread about the availability of the first fruits of the fall, buyers approached quickly.  Grange and Garrel listened with astonishment as the prices being requested and offered climbed higher and higher.

“I thought we were just picking apples all those days in the orchards,” Garrel said in wonder.  “I didn’t know they were golden apples.”

Long before traffic in the market began to dwindle, Clarence was sold out of product, and even sold the wagon that Grange had driven to the market.

“We need to buy our supplies to take back to our village,” Clarence said as he watched with satisfaction while the sold wagon rolled away.

“Deana, you still plan to take a chance on these two?  Our village is an awfully good place to live, and your parents will be mighty disappointed if you don’t come home to see them,” Clarence addressed the wayward girl.

“We’ll come see them in the spring, won’t we Garrel?” the girl looked at her companion.  “We can stay down here where it’s warm in the winter, then go back up in the mountains after the snows melt.

“You’ll see us in the spring, I promise,” she said following Garrel’s nod of agreement.

“We should be on our way,” Ariana said.  “We’ve got to get to the city and find a place to live.”

“We’ll tell your parents that you’re staying here too,” Clarine told Ariana.

“They’ll be surprised,” she gave an enigmatic smile.  “Tell them they’ll see me sooner rather than later,” she said.

And that was the parting; without any further words, none of the sentimentality that had accompanied the departure from the apple-picking team of High Meadow boys, the foursome of young travelers departed, and began heading north through the market, on their way to Palmland.

They cleared the last vestiges of Greens Market              and began strolling down the road towards Palmland city.  The road was paved with cobblestones, as though it were a city street, impressing Grange and Garrel, who were used to the stone-covered streets of Fortune, and astonishing the girls, who had never seen such treatment before.

“Where do all the stones come from?” Deana asked.

“Someone has to bring them,” Garrel explained.  “In Fortune, the Tyrant used slaves and prisoners to carry paving stones to repair the roads.”

They reached a small city, one that spread between the road and the river, with many of its houses and buildings raised on stilts, above the level of the river’s floods.  They bought sausages from a vendor, then sat in the shade beneath one of the houses as they ate the spicy meat.  They bought a bottle of sweet wine to drink as they walked along the road, to quench the heat from the sausage, and they speculated about the city they were going to, a place none of them had ever seen before.

Grange had drunk wine before, on occasion, in Fortune, but it had been watered down.  The contents of this bottle were full strength, and he felt giddy as he drank the liquid and walked along.

The paved road grew busier, and the buildings along the road, stables and homes, taverns and shops and forges and smithies, grew more common, closer together.

“Are we in the city yet?” Deana asked as they walked together on the crowded street.

“Not until we pass through the city walls, officially,” Ariana answered.

“How would you know that?” Deana asked.  “You’ve never been here before either.”

“Her answer makes sense,” Grange spoke up in defense of Ariana.

“And speaking of which, there the wall is!” Garrel added, pointing ahead, where a tall wall towered above the surrounding buildings, visible through every opening between buildings as they walked closer and closer.

Five minutes later they arrived at a gate in the wall, the official entry to the city.  Guards were posted at the gate, observing everyone who passed through the passage in the wall.  The guards randomly stopped and questioned some of the pedestrians, but the four visitors from the apple orchards had no problems as they passed through unhindered.