Crossroads and Other Tales of Valdemar

However, nineteen days after they’d left the familiar peaks and paths of the Ice Wall Mountains, the river flowed through a series of lightly wooded hills, then opened up to reveal a group of huts built about a wide but shallow quarry. A dozen people labored to cut away great blocks of the exposed stone while a dozen more loaded them onto log rollers pulled by heavy-set horned creatures that looked like a cross between huge ponies and hairless mountain goats. Another dozen figures stood at key locations, obviously guardsmen protecting the settlement, while two women shouted orders from the first of three flat-bottomed boats tied up at a sturdily built wooden and stone pier. Two of the boats were already loaded with the stone blocks, the third half full.

Hidden just beyond the tree line, the three Goshon stopped dead and Kellisin’s mouth fell open.

“Isn’t that . . . ?”

“Yes,” Trey answered.

“And look at the color the guards are wearing,” Bayne added meaningfully.

Trey squinted down at the settlement.

“It’s the wrong shade,” he declared after a moment, trying to mask the sense of foreboding the sight of the bright blue uniforms caused him.

“Does it matter?” the other man asked.

“Yes, it matters,” Trey snapped back with rather more force than necessary and his brother raised his hands in a sarcastic gesture of submission.

“All right, so it matters, but you have to admit, it’s an interesting coincidence. Have you ever seen anyone wear any kind of blue cloth?”

“No I haven’t, but until this moment I’d never seen anyone stand on floating rocks either.”

Beside them, Kellisin stirred restlessly, impatient with the argument. “So, are we going down for a closer look or not?” he demanded. “If you dreamed this place, there must be a reason.”

“True.”

“Then, let’s go down and find out what it is.”

Trey and Bayne rolled their eyes at each other over his head.

“Life is always simpler for the young,” Bayne noted sagely.

“Life is always slower for the old,” Kellisin retorted.

“And life is always a pushy series of inevitable events for the shamans, old or young,” Trey added.

“So we’re going?”

“Yes, we’re going, but cautiously,” he added, grabbing the younger man’s halter before he could go galloping down the hill. “Cautiously, little cousin.”

All work ceased immediately as the three clansman broke from the trees and rode slowly into the open towards the riverbank. One of the guardsmen gave a whistling signal and, by the time they reached the pier, an older woman in a leather apron and a man in the guardsmen’s bright blue uniform were waiting for them, ringed by people. Most held their tools or weapons loosely but resolutely, and Trey gave Bayne a casual, sideways glance.

“Keep your hands away from your own weapons, brother,” he said quietly.

“Believe me, I’m trying to.”

Reining up, Trey dismounted. “I am Treyill of the Goshon,” he said. “This is my brother Bayne and my kinsman Kellisin. “We’re traveling south. We have goods to trade. You understand, trade?”

The woman nodded warily. “I am Kith Arkarus of Waymeet, the Quarry Master here,” she replied, her accent thick and exotic but understandable. “This is Captain Danel of the Valdemar Guard.”

Trey couldn’t help but show his surprise. “Valdemar?”

Captain Danel gave him a measured look. “You came through the Crook Back Pass?” he asked.

“The Feral.”

“Ah, then you’ll have passed through no villages to tell you. You crossed Valdemar’s northwestern border some days ago. We’re the farthest settlement in the area, and the newest.”

“King Restil is expanding the palace,” a new voice said excitedly. The three Goshon glanced up just as a young woman, perhaps a year or two older than Kellisin, appeared on the top of one of the blocks of stone on the halfloaded barge.

“This is Gabrielle Post,” the Quarry Master said dryly. “My niece. Apprenticed to Haven’s Master Builder . . .”

“My father,” Gabrielle supplied.

“Sent north to gain experience in the building trades.”

“Haven?” Trey asked.

“The capital of Valdemar.”

“And you will float this stone there?”

“Tomorrow morning if the weather holds.”

Trey and Bayne exchanged another glance.

“You’ll be passing through a lot of wild country,” Trey noted.

“Wild for the unwary, maybe,” Captain Danel answered. “But we’re not unwary,” he added meaningfully, “and we’re not unprepared.”

Bayne smiled at the unsubtle warning.

“I’m sure of it,” Trey replied smoothly. “I’m told that a sharp eye and a courageous arm are always welcome in Valdemar if they’re offered honestly. For passage to Haven, I offer ours. If any of your people have heard stories of mine, you’ll know that this offer is made honestly.”

The captain and the Quarry Master exchanged a glance while both Bayne and Kellisin tried not to look surprised.