I
stretched for a particularly distant prize and asked the question I had been
mulling for a while. “How did you, Svhen, and Dardon get involved with living
here?”
Arthus laughed a mirthless bark. “It was all the doing of
Orac, if you must know. Not just the war, but Orac himself.” I shot him a look
under my arm. “Although I enlisted in the army because I needed food, clothing
and a way to earn my keep, Dardon and Svhen were two different stories. Dardon
was a silversmith before the war, and a–” Arthus bit off the swear word before
it left his tongue. “Pardon. He was quite a master. That is, he was until
Orac’s men came through his village, killed his business partner, and burned
down his forge. That was why he joined up, to get even. Then when we lost, he
owned nothing.”
I brought down another load and remounted the ladder before
he finally got to Svhen’s tale. “Old Svhen is an old master at war. Do you know
how many wars he has fought in? Seven. Mercenary by trade, he decided that this
war was going to be his last. Informed Tourth that he intended to go out
fighting, and then our side surrendered. It took a pretty bit of fast and
persuasive work on Tourth’s part, but he convinced him that life in the Mynth
family’s employ was better than charging Orac’s castle.
“Of course, that all changed when we got here. The keep
gone, the lord and his wife murdered, and Kat living on the charity of friends,
it nearly broke Tourth. I had nowhere to go, but even if I had, I wouldn’t have
left him like that.” Arthus cleared his throat uncomfortably and coughed. After
a strained silence, he asked, “So, what brings you here?”
“Winter,” I replied as I descended with another load. “I
didn’t fancy the thought of spending it out in the open this year. I wanted a
roof over my head on snowy nights.”
I could sense Arthus’ unspoken questions as he sorted
through them to decide which to ask next. I also suspected Tourth supplied some
for Arthus to ask. My ladder-holder was just getting up the courage to try
another one on me when a voice made us both pause.
“Ho, there, man.” A large, armed man appeared strolling
through the trees, his chain mail glinting in the sun speckled shadows. “I am
seeking a man named Joanor, the man who works this orchard. Orac’s enforcer
wishes to speak with him.”
“I believe he is up at the cottage at the far end of the
field,” Arthus offered quickly.
The soldier strode off in the direction Arthus indicated
with barely a glance in my direction. I watched him through the tree branches
until he was out of sight.
“I don’t know about you,” Arthus said, “but this appears
mighty suspicious. Isn’t this the second time the enforcer’s men stopped while
we were working for a farmer?”
I nodded. “Perhaps we should speak with Tourth.”
“I think we should.”
I descended the ladder and picked up the bushel of apples I
already picked. Arthus managed to lower and carry the ladder. Switching rows,
we started off toward where Arthus said he last saw Tourth.
Tourth
I was working on my second bushel when I heard someone
approach the tree. I looked down to find both Arthus and Wren looking up at me.
I half expected Arthus to announce that Wren had miraculously finished her
assignment.
“Orac’s enforcer and his men have showed up again,” he
announced. “We wonder if we should make ourselves scarce. Do you think Joanor
will give us away?”
I scrambled down, jumping the last two feet to the ground,
and deposited my current load in the bushel bin. “I would prefer speaking to
Joanor or his son first.”
“You can’t be thinking to walk right up to the house and
ask,” Arthus protested. “What if the enforcer is there? What if he sees you?”
He had a point. I opened my mouth to suggest that Arthus go
and investigate when Wren spoke up.
“Let me go,” she volunteered. “I am not known around here.”
“But the enforcer’s
stretched for a particularly distant prize and asked the question I had been
mulling for a while. “How did you, Svhen, and Dardon get involved with living
here?”
Arthus laughed a mirthless bark. “It was all the doing of
Orac, if you must know. Not just the war, but Orac himself.” I shot him a look
under my arm. “Although I enlisted in the army because I needed food, clothing
and a way to earn my keep, Dardon and Svhen were two different stories. Dardon
was a silversmith before the war, and a–” Arthus bit off the swear word before
it left his tongue. “Pardon. He was quite a master. That is, he was until
Orac’s men came through his village, killed his business partner, and burned
down his forge. That was why he joined up, to get even. Then when we lost, he
owned nothing.”
I brought down another load and remounted the ladder before
he finally got to Svhen’s tale. “Old Svhen is an old master at war. Do you know
how many wars he has fought in? Seven. Mercenary by trade, he decided that this
war was going to be his last. Informed Tourth that he intended to go out
fighting, and then our side surrendered. It took a pretty bit of fast and
persuasive work on Tourth’s part, but he convinced him that life in the Mynth
family’s employ was better than charging Orac’s castle.
“Of course, that all changed when we got here. The keep
gone, the lord and his wife murdered, and Kat living on the charity of friends,
it nearly broke Tourth. I had nowhere to go, but even if I had, I wouldn’t have
left him like that.” Arthus cleared his throat uncomfortably and coughed. After
a strained silence, he asked, “So, what brings you here?”
“Winter,” I replied as I descended with another load. “I
didn’t fancy the thought of spending it out in the open this year. I wanted a
roof over my head on snowy nights.”
I could sense Arthus’ unspoken questions as he sorted
through them to decide which to ask next. I also suspected Tourth supplied some
for Arthus to ask. My ladder-holder was just getting up the courage to try
another one on me when a voice made us both pause.
“Ho, there, man.” A large, armed man appeared strolling
through the trees, his chain mail glinting in the sun speckled shadows. “I am
seeking a man named Joanor, the man who works this orchard. Orac’s enforcer
wishes to speak with him.”
“I believe he is up at the cottage at the far end of the
field,” Arthus offered quickly.
The soldier strode off in the direction Arthus indicated
with barely a glance in my direction. I watched him through the tree branches
until he was out of sight.
“I don’t know about you,” Arthus said, “but this appears
mighty suspicious. Isn’t this the second time the enforcer’s men stopped while
we were working for a farmer?”
I nodded. “Perhaps we should speak with Tourth.”
“I think we should.”
I descended the ladder and picked up the bushel of apples I
already picked. Arthus managed to lower and carry the ladder. Switching rows,
we started off toward where Arthus said he last saw Tourth.
Tourth
I was working on my second bushel when I heard someone
approach the tree. I looked down to find both Arthus and Wren looking up at me.
I half expected Arthus to announce that Wren had miraculously finished her
assignment.
“Orac’s enforcer and his men have showed up again,” he
announced. “We wonder if we should make ourselves scarce. Do you think Joanor
will give us away?”
I scrambled down, jumping the last two feet to the ground,
and deposited my current load in the bushel bin. “I would prefer speaking to
Joanor or his son first.”
“You can’t be thinking to walk right up to the house and
ask,” Arthus protested. “What if the enforcer is there? What if he sees you?”
He had a point. I opened my mouth to suggest that Arthus go
and investigate when Wren spoke up.
“Let me go,” she volunteered. “I am not known around here.”
“But the enforcer’s
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