accept? Will you lead Heldon to final victory, Feric Jaggar?"
Feric could not help but smile a bit at Bogel's grandiosity. The man spoke as if he were offering the Imperial Sceptre, the long-lost Great Truncheon of Held, rather than the leadership of a squalid little party. Moreover, he could not help feeling that Bogel was putting it on a bit for his benefit. Still, on the highest level, Bogel was perfectly sincere, and his call was one that no true man could refuse. Besides, out of small beginnings, great things could flow. He had entered Heldon alone and friendless; he would arrive in Walder as the leader of a small group of followers. Surely destiny had placed this opportunity in his path as an indication of his mission; just as surely, it behooved him to accept fate's challenge.
"Very well," he replied. "I accept. We will take the roadsteamer to Walder together in the morning."
Bogel beamed; he seemed as buoyant as a small child with a new toy. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I'll radiotype party headquarters before we retire to prepare for your arrival. This is the beginning of a new age for Heldon and the world. I feel it in my soul."
It was a wonderful crisp blue morning in Ulmgam as Feric and Bogel boarded the roadsteamer to Walder; Feric felt refreshed and filled with vigor. Moreover, in contrast to the shorter ride from Gormond to Pormi, the two-day steam to Walder promised to be a most pleasurable experience. The Borgravian roadstreamer had been a dingy old danker which gave the impression inside of an instrument of torture as it jounced along the barely extant roads on wheels that scarcely seemed round. He had been shoehomed into this unsavory conveyance with a veritable barnyard of the rankest mutants and hybrids and, moreover, the whole stank like an open sewer. The Emerald Zephyr, on the other hand, was a gleaming new machine 46
with the latest in pneumatic tires made practical by the legendary perfection of Helder roadways.
The outside of the cabin was a flawless emerald green set off with modest brown striping, and the iron of the boiler and control cab was gleaming and totally free of rust. Inside, the cabin was done up in pine planking, the window glass was spotless, the fifty seats were upholstered in plush red velvet and filled with soft down, and only half of them were occupied, these moreover by fine-looking specimens for the most part. This magnificent roadsteamer was a stirring tribute to Helder craftsmanship and technology. Further, much of the road to Walder lay in the winding dells and forest groves of the Emerald Wood, a country famous for scenic beauty. Finally, he would be traveling not alone in a gaggle of mongrels, but with his newfound protege Seph Bogel, in the company of Helder.
It promised to be a pleasant journey indeed!
Feric and Bogel took up seats near the center of the cabin, equally removed from the noise of the steam engine in front and the exaggerated jouncing of the rear; choice seats of the sort preferred by seasoned travelers, Bogel assured him. Bogel graciously insisted that his new leader occupy the seat next to the window.
When all the passengers had boarded, a hostess in green-and-brown livery emerged from the small chamber between the front of the passenger cabin and the rear of the woodbin, introduced herself as Truelady Garth, and distributed cushions to those desiring them.
The cabin door was closed, the brakes released in a great hiss of steam; then the engine began to send a steady, low, powerful, altogether pleasant throb through the cabin, and the roadsteamer moved slowly out of the station yard.
The steamer gathered speed steadily as it moved through the streets of Ulmgam, and by the time it reached the edge of town and the open highway, it was making a good thirty-five miles an hour, and was still accelerating.
Nothing in Borgravia had ever moved this fast, and Feric found himself exhilarated by the physical sensation of the heady speed. The steamer did not
Feric could not help but smile a bit at Bogel's grandiosity. The man spoke as if he were offering the Imperial Sceptre, the long-lost Great Truncheon of Held, rather than the leadership of a squalid little party. Moreover, he could not help feeling that Bogel was putting it on a bit for his benefit. Still, on the highest level, Bogel was perfectly sincere, and his call was one that no true man could refuse. Besides, out of small beginnings, great things could flow. He had entered Heldon alone and friendless; he would arrive in Walder as the leader of a small group of followers. Surely destiny had placed this opportunity in his path as an indication of his mission; just as surely, it behooved him to accept fate's challenge.
"Very well," he replied. "I accept. We will take the roadsteamer to Walder together in the morning."
Bogel beamed; he seemed as buoyant as a small child with a new toy. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I'll radiotype party headquarters before we retire to prepare for your arrival. This is the beginning of a new age for Heldon and the world. I feel it in my soul."
It was a wonderful crisp blue morning in Ulmgam as Feric and Bogel boarded the roadsteamer to Walder; Feric felt refreshed and filled with vigor. Moreover, in contrast to the shorter ride from Gormond to Pormi, the two-day steam to Walder promised to be a most pleasurable experience. The Borgravian roadstreamer had been a dingy old danker which gave the impression inside of an instrument of torture as it jounced along the barely extant roads on wheels that scarcely seemed round. He had been shoehomed into this unsavory conveyance with a veritable barnyard of the rankest mutants and hybrids and, moreover, the whole stank like an open sewer. The Emerald Zephyr, on the other hand, was a gleaming new machine 46
with the latest in pneumatic tires made practical by the legendary perfection of Helder roadways.
The outside of the cabin was a flawless emerald green set off with modest brown striping, and the iron of the boiler and control cab was gleaming and totally free of rust. Inside, the cabin was done up in pine planking, the window glass was spotless, the fifty seats were upholstered in plush red velvet and filled with soft down, and only half of them were occupied, these moreover by fine-looking specimens for the most part. This magnificent roadsteamer was a stirring tribute to Helder craftsmanship and technology. Further, much of the road to Walder lay in the winding dells and forest groves of the Emerald Wood, a country famous for scenic beauty. Finally, he would be traveling not alone in a gaggle of mongrels, but with his newfound protege Seph Bogel, in the company of Helder.
It promised to be a pleasant journey indeed!
Feric and Bogel took up seats near the center of the cabin, equally removed from the noise of the steam engine in front and the exaggerated jouncing of the rear; choice seats of the sort preferred by seasoned travelers, Bogel assured him. Bogel graciously insisted that his new leader occupy the seat next to the window.
When all the passengers had boarded, a hostess in green-and-brown livery emerged from the small chamber between the front of the passenger cabin and the rear of the woodbin, introduced herself as Truelady Garth, and distributed cushions to those desiring them.
The cabin door was closed, the brakes released in a great hiss of steam; then the engine began to send a steady, low, powerful, altogether pleasant throb through the cabin, and the roadsteamer moved slowly out of the station yard.
The steamer gathered speed steadily as it moved through the streets of Ulmgam, and by the time it reached the edge of town and the open highway, it was making a good thirty-five miles an hour, and was still accelerating.
Nothing in Borgravia had ever moved this fast, and Feric found himself exhilarated by the physical sensation of the heady speed. The steamer did not
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