They reached Elith on the evening of the following day. The journey had been one of utter misery as the weather had broken and the rain beat down continuously on the wagon. The dust roads turned to mud far too quickly and there was a tendency for the wheels to slide, meaning that the person driving had to be extremely vigilant.
The one bright spot in the day occurred about midday. The rain had eased and they turned a bend in the track to see the bridge connecting Setherland and Elith in the distance. The stone arches shone in a sudden burst of sunlight and gave cause to wonder how men could have created such a marvel.
Nedric had crossed the river that separated the two countries several times on the boardway but the view had been obscured and he had been less aware of the width of the water that flowed beneath him. Now he could see the slowly moving Antrim in all its full glory. The bridge was anchored to small rock islands and the arches soared maybe two hundred feet above.
As they moved closer they could see the channel that had been cut by the strength of the river over the centuries. Although further downstream the banks were lower, the width of water became too much to bridge and so the builders had opted to span between two cliffs. Several miles upstream the new boardway bridge could just be seen. It was a shorter span but even higher above the waters.
The land wasn’t much different the other side of the river. The people were similar although there was a distinctive Esteril accent that Nedric could imitate fairly well. It took most of the rest of the day before they started to see the forest that covered most of the country. Once they passed through Elseth they would be walking beneath the trees most of the time, whichever direction they travelled.
The town of Elith had little to recommend it. Marginally larger than the surrounding villages, it served as the focus of the area by holding the local animal auctions and also being situated on the river down which much of the timber travelled.
The town boasted several inns, the most salubrious of which had a storage yard in which they could keep their wagon. At a cost of four silvers a night, a room was not exactly cheap but they felt that they had earnt the additional luxury after two weeks sleeping in a crowded wagon.
True to the characters they were pretending to be, before they had settled down for the night they gave a small show for the inn guests, which earnt them a meal each and as much ale as they could drink. Having been given the same offer at every other inn they had stopped at along the route they were now less keen to drink to excess.
The three shared one large room, which held about half a dozen beds. It was obviously a quiet night at the inn as there were no other people sharing the room. The beds were feather stuffed mattresses on wooden pallets, much better than the normal straw that was often the home of unwanted insects.
A fire at one end of the room took away the chill of the evening. As summer ended the nights were getting colder quickly. Fortunately for the three of them their journey would involve few farmlands for the next few weeks, as during harvest there would be little need for their entertainment. If they were lucky then they would reach Nothering as harvest ended and the normal celebrations this entailed would explain their presence.
Being in a different country began to make their task seem more real. For Bethan it was the first time he had been to Esteril and he was surprised by the similarities in the people. The lands to the south of Setherland were populated by people who tended to be more insular. The folks of Esteril had a similar outlook to life and apart from the accent, were difficult to tell apart.
Nedric remembered an old history lesson. Master Karik had been explaining how people who had left that country for one reason or another had formed the countries on all sides of Nothering. Cantherin had been founded when their had been a large religious schism. Espray, the land north of Nothering, had come into being when the old political order had been swept from power and escaped slaves had founded Setherland.
Esteril owed its existence to the fact that nobody else could be bothered to claim it. The vast tracts of forest made invasion untenable. On the one occasion in the past that it had been tried, the inhabitants had disappeared beneath the green bower and the invaders had found themselves chasing shadows.
The rangers had then taken out the enemies supply train and the invading army had found itself isolated in a land it did not understand. Many of the soldiers died in accidents involving forest creatures or fell to traps and pits concealed on the forest trails. In the end, the invading army had returned to Cantherin in tatters. The commanding general had been hung and the incident quietly forgotten.
Now that they were playing a role and could not call on any help from Setherland, it was essential for the three to ensure that they kept to their characters perfectly. For Bethan this was easy. The men of the desert lands to the south were instantly recognisable by their white robes which covered them from head to foot and which generally hid all but their faces. They were known for their speech which was more lyrical than most and they had their own language, which Bethan had learnt to speak well enough to fool anyone not from the desert. As most did not travel away from the hot lands, he was unlikely to meet others. If he did then he would pretend he was an outcast and shun them.
Nedric was going to pretend to be from Esteril and was aided in part by his knowledge of the diabolo. No one would assume that an outsider would have spent time playing with their traditional toy. His year at Nigh meant he knew enough to pass as a typical backwoodsman as far as his knowledge of the country was concerned. His accent was typically back woods and he used the curses of the region to emphasise the point.
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It was Rialto who would have the hardest time to start. He could pretend to the accents of Esteril, Nothering or Cantherin but he didn’t have the in depth knowledge of any of those countries that might be needed. He was planning on changing his story to suit the occasion and hope that he didn’t make any dangerous mistakes.
As they moved further away from Setherland they would have less need to mention the country but in Elith you were either travelling to it or away. There was now the new route to Nigh but that only meant more traffic to and from the neighbouring country.
They were questioned as to how such a disparate group had got together and they each had a different story. As each story was less believable than the last, it amused the questioner and deflected the issue. They also let people know that they had travelled from the southern countries before entering Setherland.
* * *
The next morning Nedric went to the ranger office in Elith. This was a large two-storey building set in the centre of the town. The wooden walls had been made from timber that was extremely dark as well as being hard and difficult to burn. Perhaps it was because of this that the building seemed to cast a pall over the surrounding area or perhaps it was the nature of the grim-faced men who worked within or passed through on their unknown missions.
If Nedric had not met the two rangers Daiga and Scabad in Nigh he would have felt some qualms at approaching the office. As it was he only hoped that they had received his letters. The one he had written initially asking them to accompany him into Nothering and the subsequent one, which explained the disguise, they planned on using to travel through the country.
When Nedric entered, he found himself confronted by a large and high desk, behind which sat a typical ranger. The tall, dark man showed no emotion as he glanced Nedric’s way and then returned to his work. Nedric didn’t know whether to wait or to interrupt. A couple of seconds of dithering were needed before he came to a decision.
“Excuse me sir, are either Ranger Daiga or Ranger Scabad around?” he tried to ignore the slight croakiness of his voice.
“No.” The single word was uttered in a flat, uninviting tone.
“Do you have any idea when they might be here?”
“No.”
“Have they left any message for me? I’m Nedric by the way.”
“No.” There wasn’t so much as a flicker of recognition of his name. Nedric felt his hopes of having the two rangers accompany them falter.
“Can you let them know that I called by?”
“Yes.”
“Well goodbye then.”
Nedric left without any acknowledgement from the ranger. He felt that with such a positive approach to communication it was little wonder that the average Elseth citizen felt fear of their protectors. He doubted that anyone approached the building unless the situation was truly desperate.
With nothing better to do, he returned to the inn. The other two had been making some much-needed purchases to re-stock the wagon. Their fare over the last two weeks had been generally good, as they had eaten at inns each day. However over the next few weeks they might find themselves in places that were more than a day between inns and they had no way of feeding themselves.
Bethan was buying snares and a bow, whilst Rialto was on the hunt for pots and seasonings. They were both also looking for foods that travelled well and were reasonably tasty. Bethan had told them a tale of how he had been forced to survive on jerky for a couple of weeks. The story had been humorous but the trio had no intention of repeating the experience.
As Nedric arranged the wagon to make room for the additional provisions another wagon drove into the inn. It was of a similar design to their own, which was to say that it was completely covered, so that from where he sat he could see no sign of the driver.
The other wagon was painted with colourful designs that drew the eye. On the side that faced Nedric was a picture of a lady tied to a target. A tall dark-clad man was about to throw a knife at her. Already one knife could be seen sticking from the target next to her head. Another dark figure was standing nearby with a brace of axes, ready to take his turn when the knife man had finished.
The wagon promised danger and excitement. Nedric wished that they had been half as imaginative with the decoration of their wagon; he was frankly envious. He finished his tidying and left the wagon to find out more about the new performers. By the time he had walked around they had disappeared into the inn, so instead he examined the other decoration on the wagon.
The opposite side showed a masked wrestler pinning an opponent to the floor, there was a line of others preparing to take him on standing outside the marked ring. The crowd could be seen to be showing their disappointment at the result. There was a pile of beaten wrestlers lying on the other side of the ring.
As he examined the wagon, Bethan and Rialto appeared. They were both laden with goods and were sharing a joke, laughing at something Bethan had said.
“How did you do with the rangers?” Bethan asked.
“Not good, did you get everything?”
“Everything and more, Rialto here almost had the shop girl coming with us.”
“I don’t see her, you must have put her off.”
“We told her that we shared it with an extremely ugly and smelly juggler.”
“Thanks for that. Have you looked at this wagon?”
The other two looked over the wagon and it was clear that they were impressed.
“We’d better get some paints.” Rialto said.
“Can either of you draw?” asked Nedric.
“I might be able to do something,” replied Bethan with a slight twinkle in his eye.
“I wonder where this wagon is going, perhaps we can team up for a while.” Mused Rialto.
“Do we want to? They might guess that we aren’t exactly what we pretend.”
“You mean that they might be part of a guild of entertainers and will have us put to a painful death when they find that we are impostors?” asked Bethan.
“Or worse still, they might ask us to pay to join,” added Rialto.
“It’s the merchant in him, it can’t be helped.” Nedric spoke to Bethan and smiled.
“We had best find out what they are like,” added Nedric. “They might not want anything to do with us.”
“Well here comes someone, look alert.”
Nedric looked up to see two men walking towards him. They were both dressed in colourful clothing and had completely shaved heads. They looked slightly familiar but it was not until they had virtually reached him that he recognised them. When he did he had to laugh. It took him a while to get his mirth under control.
“Rialto, Bethan, I’d like you to meet the two rangers I was telling you about Daiga and Scabad.”
The other two can only stand and stare. The sight before them was so unlikely as to be beyond comprehension. The rangers were known for their brown uniforms, sullen looks and menace, whilst these two looked like something from a travelling circus. That they were both grinning meant that they looked even less like rangers.
“We read your letter with interest Nedric,” said Daiga. “We liked the idea and we had a little time on our hands so we thought we’d get into the spirit of the thing. Do you think we’d be suspected in Nothering?”
Nedric was sure that the two were well aware of the effect they gave. There was no way that anyone would imagine that these were rangers. As a disguise it was absolutely effective. He didn’t know what to say and so blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.
“Why the shaved heads?”
“To make us look more similar.”
The two rangers did indeed look like they might be brothers. About the same height and build, the lack of hair made it hard to guess age and took away from the slight facial differences. Nedric was glad that he would have such resourceful men helping him.
That day they enhanced the Setherland wagon. It turned out that Bethan was something of an artist and was able to draw scenes that were comparable in excitement to the ones on the other wagon. The two rangers were quick to offer help and also moved some of the equipment into their wagon. They had a few props of their own but Nedric didn’t have time to examine them.
When everything was ready they departed. With the two colourful wagons they made a far more spectacular sight and attracted the attention of everyone they passed. As they left Elith, Nedric decided that the task had truly begun.