As the wagon rolled along the rough dirt road into the camp, Sojo sank deep into the sounds of conversation, cooking, and bartering, letting the familiar feeling of strangers’ lives wash over her.
They’d been travelling for a week now, and Sojo felt a sigh of relief pass her lips. She’d have at least a day and a night without having to constantly fret about her word choices, about seeming cheery and adventurous, and most of all confident in everything from navigating to pitching a tent. She’d never been so close to a group of people for so long before, and was realizing how tiring it could be. Or maybe that was just the endless walking.
Still, the days had only reconfirmed that she’d chosen her people well. As much as Brehen’s food issues had caused friction, his clear competence in tending to the horses had put the group quite at ease. Mirrel’s cooking was so far without issue, though Sojo still wondered whether strain would build as fresh ingredients dwindled. And Eyn was quieter than she’d first come across, but seemed to be listening to every conversation. More than that, though, she was sharp whenever she decided to contribute.
The few things that did add friction so far only made the departure feel more real. Eyn had managed to knock something off the wagon each day for a week straight, and still seemed unsteady when she took a break from walking to ride. And Brehen stalking off hunting for an hour after each day’s stop made Sojo worry whether the food stores would last the whole trip; she only grew more worried when he returned empty handed. He’d brought back enough to feed himself some nights, but he hadn’t yet managed more.
Mirrel was her only serious source of worry. Even after the long days of travelling and talking, he didn’t seem to realize that he could have help with any problem with a word. Twice she’d found him struggling to set up his tent at night, and still he was completely unwilling to ask Eyn for help. In an ideal world he’d start to trust the group… but Sojo had no idea how she’d address it if he didn’t. The wagon creaked to a stop near a water trough, and Sojo refocused on her surroundings.
The settlement had growing pains; there was no shortage of evidence for it. The inn they’d stopped at hadn’t been properly kept up, and the front steps still showed dried mud, likely tracked in days ago at the last rainfall. Shoddy buildings were in abundance, clearly made to cater to a large influx of travellers, and never fixed up properly once occupied. The lack of building material in the plains and scrubland hadn’t helped. Mud and thatch was present in many of the new constructions. Some didn’t even have a complete set of walls, just a roof and some half-built hope.
But down the road, she could see the reason Brehen had wanted to stop: a market, far removed from bustling, with tired-looking farmers and a smattering of non-empty stalls.
“The market’s just down the road, Mirrel, if you wouldn’t mind restocking our food?”
“Sure, though I doubt I’ll be able to match the variety we set out with,” he replied. “I’ll be spending a little extra on spices and such.” His eyes unfocused slightly as he considered their current rations.
“That shouldn’t be a problem, just let me know if anything’s more expensive than you’re used to.” Sojo stepped towards the front of the wagon. “Brehen, can you refill our water and alcohol stores at the inn here?”
Brehen looked up from the horses. “Not a problem. I’ll probably step off to the market afterwards for some procurement of my own.”
“Eyn, I’d like you to get us rooms here as well. Eyn, Brehen, is there anything specific you want us to look for at the market?”
“Only if you find something that you know will catch my fancy,” Eyn replied, smiling. She stepped through the inn door, only to turn back. “Actually, if you see any trinkets, or something to keep my hands occupied, I’d appreciate it.” She waited to see Sojo’s nod before stepping fully through the doorway.
Sojo turned away. “Brehen? Anything you need?” At the shake of his head, Sojo and Mirrel started down the road towards the stalls.
“It seems a bit bare, don’t you think?” Mirrel asked, peering at the empty stalls near the market’s edge. “You’d expect the travelling boom would bring the growers out in droves.”
“I did notice that,” Sojo replied. She turned towards a farmer selling undersized squash at a nearby stall. “Excuse me, could you tell us why it’s so quiet today?”
“Quiet?” The farmer asked, “This is fightin’ for busiest day of the week.” Seeing the surprise on their faces, he explained “The scouts passin’ through are buying up half of each field they come to. A lot of the farmers are wonderin’ how hungry they can get over the winter for the extra coin in their pocket. It’s not often the army pays for what it takes.”
“The Corinthian Scouts are still around here? We thought they’d have moved on a while ago.” Sojo asked.
“They’re out n’ back again, from what I hear. The ones I’ve talked to said there ain’t much to live off of further east, particularly with non-scouting soldiers coming soon. We started callin’em the Corn Scouts after they stripped the Matices’ whole cornfield bare.”
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“I’ll have to see if I can’t find some to talk to,” Sojo said, half to herself, as Mirrel began bartering on the farmer’s squash. She walked down through the stalls, pausing at some well-made leatherworks, but moved on before she could be entranced into buying something unnecessary. At the far end of the market, she passed a stall of spices and stepped into a poorly stocked jeweller’s.
“Can I help ya, miss?” The shopkeeper stepped forward, buffing a roughly made metal bracelet in his hands. “We haven’t the greatest selection at the moment, but I can make most things to order if you’ve the time to spare.”
“I was actually wondering if you could tell me anything about this ring?” She pulled her necklace out and unfastened the clasp. “My grandmother told me stories about it all through my childhood, but I was never sure what to make of them.”
The jeweller reached out for the ring, and held it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. “I can’t say much for it, save that it’s well made. The metal might be pewter, iron, or silver, but it’s hard to check without a test that’ll mark the surface. Has it tarnished since you’ve had it?” He twisted the ring to look at the glinting inset stone.
“No, not that I’ve seen,” she said, as glimmers sped across the countertop.
“More likely silver, then. Again, I can’t be sure, but I sincerely doubt this inset is a gem. It’s got angled cuts, clearly, but also two twists that look like someone grabbed it and turned it in their hands… I’ve no idea how someone would shape a diamond to do this. I’d put my money on it being well-wrought glass, but it’s no less beautiful for it.”
He passed the ring back to Sojo. “Is there anything else in particular I can do for you?” the shopkeeper asked, smiling as Sojo stared at the pieces of clipped sunlight the ring threw across the shop.
Sojo looked up at him. “No, that’s all I was hoping to hear. Thanks for humouring me.” She smiled, stepping back from the counter.
“Anytime, Miss.” The jeweller replied, picking up his buffing cloth and bracelet as she walked out the door.
–
Sojo walked back through the marketplace, browsing more thoroughly now that her errand was done. She noticed a weary-looking merchant selling wooden puzzles and tried her hand at unlocking them, but found herself thoroughly confused.
“How do you come up with these?” She asked the merchant woman, fiddling absentmindedly.
“Well,” the woman said, gauging Sojo’s interest, “my parents had some when I was growin’ up, and they’d let my sister‘n me play with them as a reward for if we worked hard. Most days, though, she and I would be starin’ at them, trying to scrounge up an idea to use the next time we got the chance. After a while, I started findin’em scattered about in my dreams, and that’s where I’ve found new ones ever since.”
The old woman sighed, dreaming as she spoke. “I haven’t been able to find many new ones since we settled here, though. I’ve mostly been carvin’ out older puzzles.”
Sojo looked down at the puzzles contours again. There were curves and edges that added no difficulty, but lent an odd flavour to their construction, and portions where the wood was made to pass through itself despite remaining a single solid piece. Much of the craftsmanship seemed confused, or even contradictory. It held the eye far more than she expected a mere curiosity to.
“I think I’d like to take a couple of these, then. I’m travelling with someone who’d love to unlock them, or even carve her own.”
The merchant picked up a pair of squat spirals with interlocked wood rings. “These are my favourite design, I found them in the same dream when we first arrived here. If you solve them, the pieces’ll mesh again. They make another puzzle even when you think you’re through.” She smiled warmly, and passed them over. “Unless another one catches your fancy?”
Sojo passed over her coin, and tucked the two puzzles away in her pack. Walking back towards the inn, she found Mirrel squinting suspiciously at a yam, and pointed him in the direction of the spice booth she’d passed earlier.
Walking through the sparse market, with the sun friendly on her cheeks, Sojo felt the tension flow out of her. The plains, with a horizon so far away she couldn’t seem to reach it after days of travel, had begun to wear at her. It held a vast emptiness with no familiarity or comfort for the weary traveller. In the late hours, when the darkness had brought that unreachable horizon to the edge of their campfire, she sometimes felt a looming menace brimming from the landscape, and found little solace in the flimsy barrier of her tent.
Moving leisurely, she found herself disinterested in the paltry showing from the remaining merchants, and dreaming only of a night with a bed and walls.
She picked up her pace, and immediately regretted it as a blister tore on the side of her foot. She hadn’t seen any shops with salves or medicine, so she limped on to the inn.
Finally, she pushed through the doorway and walked inside, taking a seat beside Eyn at the bar. “I hate my feet.” She grumbled, loosening her laces. “Why won’t they just accept the salve and toughen?”
Eyn patted her on the back, and gestured for the tavern keeper’s attention. He smiled wearily and walked over. Her drink arrived with well-practiced efficiency.
Sojo sipped, and a warm wave of goosebumps travelled down her back. “Mmm. How’s the road been treating you, Eyn? I know I’ve missed drinks with flavour and, well, walls.”
Eyn rested her arms on the bar, staring into her drink. “I’ve been doing well so far. I wasn’t quite ready for how slow the road would be, but I’ll adapt.”
“Nothing around here is bustling, this town excluded, but we’re not at the interesting part yet either.”
“Do you really think it’ll change all that much? When I look out over the horizon, it feels endless. Like we’ve been walking in circles, and we’ll never even realize it.”
“Well, of course…” Sojo’s words died on her lips as Eyn turned to look her in the eye, taking another sip of her drink. She tried again, “From all the maps I’ve seen, it’s endless. But we’re heading beyond the maps, trying to find something worth telling about. There’s a part in me that refuses to believe there won’t be something worth finding.”
Sojo looked down at her drink. “I mean… I don’t know how that could be,” she said, watching the last of the liquid glide around it’s crystal enclosure. “How there could be somewhere in the world that truly isn’t worth knowing. It doesn’t seem possible.”
Eyn smiled sadly, and downed her glass. “You’re probably right. The thought that we’re heading towards nothing of consequence just won’t leave my head some nights.” She stood and stretched, fugue falling off her shoulders to the sound of creaking floorboards. “Come on, I’ll show you our rooms. Let’s let those bags and burdens sit there on their own for a while.”
Sojo took her offered hand and stood, leaving her empty glass on the bar. “Porial’s love, yes please.”