Red Leaves and the Living Token (13 page)

A crowd of Botann Clansmen wearing a reddish brown robes pushed their way through the other travelers and appeared to be headed towards them. A moment later they were fully engulfed in a crowd of reddish brown. One of the Clansmen stopped in front of them.

“Moslin?” He asked.

“Yes.” She nodded.

He had several extra of the same reddish brown robes draped over his arm. He handed one to her and one to Emret.

“Last chance. You sure you want to do this?” Moslin asked.

Emret beamed, a smile spread from ear to ear.

“I'll take that as a yes.” She smiled back.

“Put these on before we board.” The Clansmen said quietly. “Once we're on the ship you'll need to stay below deck, unfortunately.”

“What do we do if the ship is boarded?” She asked.

“Processional ships don't get boarded. Just stay below deck and you'll be fine.” He answered.

H
anders and Rinacht stood at the back of a long line of travelers that coiled back and forth in front of the ticketing office. Even though the city’s river port was extensive, the majority of the travel was commercial freight. There was a relatively limited amount of passenger traffic. Small enough that it could all be accommodated through this one large station. But if the line was any indication, Handers thought, more stations might be on the way.

Handers didn’t travel much and hated coming here to retrieve passengers. He would’ve sent Rinacht ahead to secure their passage if there had been time. After what could’ve literally been half the day, the two finally reached the front of the line and moved to the next open ticket window.

“Yes?” The ticketing agent greeted them.

“We’d like two tickets on the next barge to Shishkameen.” Handers explained.

The agent sunk back into his window and consulted a stack of papers attached to the wall. After a moment, he poked his head out again. “The next available tickets are for the 9:30 am boat, two weeks from today.

“Two weeks?” Handers stammered. “No no. We need something much sooner. We’ll pay extra.”

“I’m sorry sir. We are fully booked until then. Boats to Shishkameen are usually booked two to three weeks in advance. Do you have your foreign travel papers with you?”

“What? Since when do we need foreign travel papers?”

The ticketing agent stared back at them without emotion. “Since always.” He pointed to another line at the opposite end of the large hall. “You can apply for papers there if you do not have them.”

The agent leaned to the side and motioned to the next person in line. “Next!”

Handers didn’t move. “So how long does it take to get papers?”

“Three to six months, usually.” The agent answered calmly.

“Three to six months! Thats outrageous!” Handers shouted in protest.

“Next!” The agent repeated.

-

Rinacht set down two large pieces of luggage in the entryway as Handers came in the front door behind him. His home was warm and inviting, giving the impression that someone had spent a good deal of time worrying about making it so. It reminded Raj every time he came in of better times past. The best he could do was keep things tidy and arranged in the format that was left for him. Heaven forbid he ever have to replace anything. He’d be hopeless.

His wife had hand picked every piece of furniture. Making sure each was well crafted but not too audacious. She had fretted over the color and design of the rug for almost six months before finally deciding. The window dressings were even worse.

What would she think of this mess he’d made, he wondered. She was always better at communicating with people. Moslin probably would’ve confided in her, told her everything she was feeling. They would’ve talked about it, worked it out, and nothing more would’ve happened.

Handers dropped down into a comfortable arm chair.

“Six months? Unbelievable.” He muttered.

“I'm sure this woman must be running into the same problems.” Rinacht offered.

Handers shook his head in disagreement, “If you have the determination to take a child you have the determination to find alternate passage. Either that or she planned ahead.”

He rubbed his forehead, then got up suddenly and headed for the back of the house.

“Sir?” Rinacht called after him.

“Prepare the wagon and the animals.” Handers instructed.

“Sir?”

“We'll have to take the old roads.” He called as he hurried down a hallway.

“With respect, sir. I don't think that's a good idea. Without an escort or guide? Its incredibly dangerous.”

Handers turned around. “What choice do we have! It my son!”

The only people who travel the border by land are the ones who can’t get papers. The smugglers and criminals! The people who can’t get through legitimately. If we get caught, they’ll think we’re…”

“Then we can’t get caught!” He turned and rushed off again down the hallway.

“I leave in the morning. You are under no obligation to come.” He called back.

-

Rinach and Handers sat atop an old but sturdy wagon stacked high with disheveled luggage and supply barrels. It creaked and rattled as its large wooden wheels ground through the deeply rutted dirt road, rocking the loosely packed contents dangerously side to side..

The forest formed a wall on both sides of them, restricting Hander's clan animal escorts, four large black bears, to walk either in front or behind them. Each bear had a breast plate on its chest with the Oso emblem of Hander's family clan.

After what seemed like an endless repeat of the monotonous rocking back and forth, the dry road turned muddy. Raj watched the wheels with alarm, making sure they didn’t sink in too deep.

After a few moments, they came around a bend in the road. As they straightened out, they could see that the muddy road up again of them vanished all together down into the beginnings of a swamp. Raj pulled back on the reigns and stopped the wagon. After they jostled to a stop, he stood up to get a better look.

The swamp continued as far as he could see through the trees. And there didn’t seem to be any way around it either. It went on as far as he could see to the right as well as to the left.

“This doesn't look promising.” He grunted.

“No. No, it doesn't.” Rinach growled back.

Handers snapped the reins, urging his horses forward. The animals kicked their legs and splashed down into the swamp water, holding their heads up as high as possible. The bears growled and hung back on the dry road. Handers noticed and turned around.

“Come on!” He commanded.

They shook their fur then step down into the water with a loud displeased growl. The wagon continued to sink as they moved forward. After a few minutes, they seemed to level out. The water line stayed just below the bed of the wagon.

“See? Not so bad.” Handers smiled. They were still moving forward, that was all that mattered.

Ahead of them the forest was becoming less and less clear. The distant trees where disappearing into a grey mist. He started to wonder how they’d maintain a straight course. That was assuming the road underneath them stayed straight.

If they could get across the swamp, he imagined they’d be able to find the road again, if they had veered off. He turned back to check on the wagon and its escort. The water was still below his cargo. That was a relief. At least they’d have a dry place to sleep and food to eat.

The bears didn’t seem to mind any more. They kept pace behind the wagon, keeping their heads just above water.

He turned back around and noticed something in the distance. A shape emerged out of the grey mist. As they moved closer, it appeared to be a road intersecting their path. Parked on that road almost directly in front of them was a fancy black carriage. Two large black horses, tied to the front of carriage, shot out streams of hot breath in the cold, wet air.

“Woow.” Handers called to his horses as he pulled back on the reigns. He turned around quickly as his bears were moving around the wagon to intercept.

“Take the front but do not engage.” He called to them.

The side door of the polished black carriage opened and two men stepped out onto the running board then hoped down to the ground. They were exceptionally well dressed, in silky black suites that seemed entirely in appropriate for their location. One of the men disengaged the harness from one of the horses and climbed up on its back.

The horse and its rider turned sharply then splashed down into the water, heading quickly towards Handers and his wagon. Handers watched him approach, becoming clearer through the fog. He really hoped to avoid any kind of confrontation. But if there ever was a place for it, this would be it. He’d have to be ready.

The man on the horse was Zo. That was good, he thought.

“Hold there, sir!” The man called out.

Handers laughed under his breath and looked over at Rinach. Hadn’t they noticed he’d stopped as soon as he saw them? He wasn’t moving now, was he?

One of his bears rose up on his hind feet. Apparently the man was a little to close for him.

“Shhh... Shhh... Down...” He tried to calm him.

“You're crossing private land.” The man shouted.

“My apologies. We were on the road to the Shishkameen. Seems we've strayed. Could you point us back to the road?”

The door of the black carriage opened again, and a third man, just as well dressed, stepped down onto the dirt. He whistled to his companion on horse back then signaled to bring them back to the dry road.

The man on horse back turned back to Handers. “Follow me, please.”

Hander's brown horses dragged the wagon up out of the swamp tilting and swaying the payload almost enough to tip it into the water. The bears shook like wet dogs shedding the muddy swamp water.

“Looks like you could use some help.” Offered the man who had just climbed from the carriage.

Handers laughed, taking a quick survey of his wet, muddy clothes. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“I have a home not too far from here. You're welcome to follow us in. Clean rooms, warm water, and stables.” The man continued.

“Wow, that sounds really nice.” Handers answered.

“Sounds extraordinary!” Rinacht agreed quickly, giving Handers an enthusiastic smile and nod.

“But...” Handers continued. “We... we really haven't much time.”

Rinacht’s face sank into a furrowed brown. “We have to sleep somewhere, Raj.”

The man pretended to be shocked, over playing the expression.

“Please, I'm offended. The Lord of this valley offers you help, and you refuse? Where's your manners? Besides, you're in dangerous and unfamiliar land. You don't seem to have much protection, and you don't seem to know where you're going.”

“He speaks the truth.” Rinacht gestured towards the man.

“I'm sorry. My son. He's missing.” Handers explained. “We know where he might've been taken, but we've got to get there and head them off before we lose the trail.”

“My goodness, man. Why didn't you say so? How awful. I won't delay you any further.”

He stepped past the carriage and pointed out into the swamp in the direction they were headed. “Keep this direction till you get to the other side of the swamp. You'll find the road a little further to the right.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful!” The man admonished.

-

Handers and Rinacht sloshed back and forth on the flat plank of their seat on top of the wagon as it trudged through the muddy swamp. The bears growled behind them. Their tolerance of the wet mud wasn’t going to last for ever it seemed.

Handers glanced over at Rinacht, who was staring blankly into the smooth water of the swamp.

“It wasn't just the issue of time.” He contended.

Rinacht didn’t break his stare.

“I don't know. Something just wasn't right.” Handers added.

Rinacht turned finally, “You just don't like people who have more money than you.”

Handers laughed. “That must be why we get along so well.”

Rinacht, snorted in response, his gaze drifting back to the grey ahead of them.

“I never did thank you, by the way, for coming with me.” Handers said, interrupting the silence.

“No thanks necessary.” Rinacht said.

The wagon sloshed back and forth in the water.

“But next time someone offers us clean sheets and a bath, if you refuse, so help me...” Rinacht clenched his fist and hit it against his open palm in a mock attack.

Raj laughed.

-

Handers woke to a hard jolt. The wagon had tipped back hard knocking him against the seat. He’d been staring at the empty grey ahead of them for so long he must have dozed off.

The bears had moved up ahead of the wagon. That must’ve spooked the horses he thought. But he couldn’t see any reason the bears would’ve moved up.

Then he heard it. A faint blare in the distance, muffled by the thick fog. It sounded like a horn of some kind.

“What was that?” Rinacht asked.

“I don't know.” Handers admitted.

They both stood up to get a higher vantage point. It was the same everywhere he looked, row after row of thick tree trucks fading back into the fog.

“Do you see anything?” Handers asked.