Chapter 60

What will the messenger bring today,

One two three

What will the messenger bring today

to give to you and me?

One for happiness

Two for pain

Three for sunshine

Four for rain

Five for a kitten

Six for a bird

Seven for a sorrow

Sharp as any word

Count it out, count it out

One, two, three -

What will the messenger

Bring to me?

Traditional children’s song, collected by Meaves Goldstone of the Alder Branches, published in Songs of the Sunlit Lands

It was the day before Crossing day in the city of Greenholt on the White Isle, the day that marks the time of year where the sunlight hours become longer than the night hours as the world moves towards summer. Many places in An Lar barely marked its passing, but on the White Isle it was a day of celebration, and the city was busy decking itself out in early spring flowers and emblems of the sun all over the town. On the next day, there would be a big public gathering near the shrine of the Lifegiver with food and music and storytelling.

Arriane had left the White Circle chapter house for the day, as the academy was closed for the holiday, and the Oldest had retreated to her oceanside cottage and the rest of the Circle who were tied to teaching, had scattered for the day.

She hung a solar disk onto the front door, then stood back, looking at the effect. Both sides of the door were adorned with pots of spring greenery, and pansies added their color in the windows.

“Lovely,” said a voice behind her.

Arriane turned and saw her mother standing there, carrying a basket full of food she had bought at the market.

“You made it back! Was it bad?” she asked, taking the basket from her mother’s hand.

“Well it is the day before a holiday,” Gwenyth Allyns said, rubbing her hands as she relinquished her burden. “People were everywhere, and they were almost out of Jabon’s fruit and spice mix, but I did manage to get some. Can’t make Crossing Day cookies without them!”

They walked inside of the house. The front room was a sitting room, with a fireplace in one corner, elaborate couches and comfortable chairs adorned with throws and cushions, a bookcase loaded with volumes in elegant bindings, and a curio case filled with bits and pieces from Gwenyth’s life. It was a bit overwrought for the simpleness of the house, but it did reflect Gwenyth’s status as a Daoine noblewoman, child of one of the older estates.. Two doors led out into other parts of the house, one towards the kitchen, and one towards a hallway with other rooms. The air had a delicious smell to it, and Gwenyth’s eyes looked at her daughter appreciatively.

“Someone’s been busy in the kitchen, I believe,” she said.

“I put the stew on to simmer,” Arriane said. “There’s so much to do that I thought I could get started there.”

“I always said you were a smart child.” She led the way into the kitchen where a large pot was simmering on the cookstove.

“Well, tomorrow is the big Alder Branch meetup for the holiday. I couldn’t have my mother looking all bleary eyed for it. Which is what you’d look like if you stayed up all night fixing stew for that army.” Arriane sorted through the items her mother had brought home in her basket – cabbage, mushroom, carrots, onion, and put most of them away in the cooling box. “I thought I’d make some savory handpies as well. I told Sammisa I would bring some with me tomorrow.”

“Oh, are some of them coming to the Shrine tomorrow?” Gwenyth said, gathering up her fruit and spice mix to one side.

“Of course! The Oldest will be there. They’ll be there as a part of her honor guard.” Arriane took the vegetables she left out and put them in a bowl she filled with water and began to wash them.

Gwenyth grabbed an apron from where it hung on a hook. “Well, I never paid that much attention to what the White Circle does on Crossing Day. They keep me so busy with the Food Committee, that I barely have time to notice anything else.”

“I noticed that.” Arriane moved through the kitchen and took a grater out of a cabinet, and some bowls. Returning to where she had been working, she took out a cutting board and began to chop a carrot into easier to handle chunks and began to shred them over one of the bowls. “The last time you got to really enjoy Crossing Day was the first year we got here.”

“Enjoyment is a matter of viewpoint,” Gwenyth said. She pulled out a canister marked flour. “Feeding hungry people is something I like to do, more than milling around a crowded square and listening to people give speeches.”

Arriane shook her head. “There’s more to do at the festival than listen to speeches. There’s music and dancing and -”

“That was fun when I was younger,” Gwenyth said, adding the sugar canister to her work space. “But this is what I find fun now. As you grow older, you’ll find some things you enjoyed when you were younger, aren’t quite as fun.” She brought out some eggs and butter.

“I’m glad I was able to be here to help this time,” Arriane said, finishing up with grating carrots. She took the onion she left out and began to peel it.

Gwenyth, in the middle of measuring sugar into a large bowl, hovered her hand over the canister, put the measure down, then went to Arriane, and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m glad you’re here, too. Who knows what next year will bring? You’re turning into a grownup so fast…”

Arriane turned and hugged her mother. “No matter what, I’ll still be your daughter.”

“That’s true,” Gwenyth said. “But your own life is starting to take over. And it looks like it’s set to take you far away from me. I just want you to know I will miss you when it does.”

There was a knock on the door.

Gwenyth went to answer it. When she came back, she sighed deeply as she reentered the kitchen.

“Is something wrong?” Arriane asked.

“Remember how I said your life is set to take you away from me?” Gwenyth asked.

Arriane continued to chop onions. “What does that have to do with a knock on the door?”

“Sammisa dropped by with a note from the Oldest. Even on Crossing Day time, they wrap themselves more and more around you.” She daubed her eyes with the hem of her apron. “My, that’s a strong onion you have there.” She handed her daughter the note. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

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Gwenyth fled the room.

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Cullin stood along the edge of his boundary, the section that faced Mistress Gan’s farmstead, not far from the King’s Highway. He stood there, frowning, his arms crossed, and nudged a small, loose stone with the toe of his boot. It tumbled onto Gan’s side of the boundary.

“Why did this happen?” he asked. “How?” In front of him, instead of the neat stone and railing fence that lined the rest of the boundary, there was a large gap, where the railing had been forced down.

Leila the Nymph stepped out of the shadow of the woods. “I could tell something was troubling you. What happened?”

“I felt something at the boundary here...a wrongness. When I got here, Salvange was chasing after his boar, who had pushed through the fence here. He stopped him before he had gotten very far. It’s a good thing that Gan Thistleberry isn’t using this field for anything.”

They watched as the Woodwose, man-shaped but taller than any Daoine, covered from head to toe with reddish-brown hair, was busily harnessing a huge black boar nearly as tall as a man. All around the animal was a path of ripped up vegetation and holes gouged out of the earth, but the boar was calmly letting the Woodwose fasten his bonds.

“Well at least he stopped White Tusk before any real damage happened,” Leila said. “I’d have hated to see what might have happened if he had reached Gan’s house.”

“Things like this are not supposed to happen.” He bent down, and brushed the stone of the fencing. “Did White Tusk do this himself, or did someone call him over? It doesn’t smell much of boar, but there’s something there I don’t recognize.”

A goat in the field on Gan’s side of the fence bleated.

“Goats!” Salvange said, as he fastened the last buckle on the boar’s harness. He spit, tugged on his animal skin kilt, the only garment he was wearing, tugged his shepherd’s bag back into place at his hip, picked up his spear, a rough stone-tipped affair and gave the harness lead a tug. “Goats. Troublemakers all.”

Rob Woodway came running up, pitchfork in hand. “What the--”

“You missed the show, Rob,” Leila said,leaning against an unbroken part of the fencing. “Salvange has it all in hand now.”

“Come on, you stupid pig,” Salvange said, tugging on the boar’s lead. “You’ve gotten me into enough trouble for a day.” Looking rather forlorn, he gave the boar a gentle swat with the butt of his spear. “It had to be the goats, I tell you,” he said. “There’s no way White Tusk would have busted that down if something wasn’t taunting him.”

Another goat looked up from where she was grazing and bleated at Salvange.

“Don’t give me that sass, you, you…” Salvange said, taking a step toward the goat.

“A Woodwose!” Rob said, rather amazed by the wild man. “I didn’t know there were any Woodwoses around here. My Grandda used to tell me stories, but he said they all went to the Western Hills.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know, young man,” the Woodwose said. “Like how to keep track of those goats of yours. Especially that billy.” He stared at the gardener with intense, quite red eyes.

“Uh...I put them out to pasture earlier this morning, after milking the girls,” Rob said. “Watched them walk into the field over there, not far from the barn.”

“That’s what you think. Billy’s been coming down here for at least the last week,” the Woodwose said. “Found a way through your fencing. And the nannies followed.”

“So what?” Rob said. “We’re not using this field for anything more than hay, anyway. Still part of Mistress Gan’s farm.” He gave the Woodwose a sharp look of his own.

“Rob has a point, Salvange,” Leila said. “Mistress Gan’s goats were minding their own business. Rob has no responsibility to creatures of Cullin’s Forest. That boar of yours is all yours to deal with.”

“A boar did this?” Rob said, rather shocked, looking at the damage to the field. “Was that what I heard?”

“The boar did it,” Cullin said. “But how White Tusk got across the boundary, that’s a different question. Even if the goats were taunting him, the boar shouldn’t have been able to cross into Gan’s field.” He tugged on his hat brim. “Salvange, take your animal home. I’ll get the Moss Men to come work on the fence. Don’t let White Tusk back out until you hear from me.”

Rob began to round up the goats. “OK, girls, let’s get back to where Betts and the cows are playing. Lots of good things to eat.” He started moving them towards the other pasture.

Giving the Tree Shepherd a curt nod, the Woodwose gave the boar’s lead, and they both hopped back over the wall.

“The question I have,” Leila said, as Rob moved off and Salvange disappeared into the forest, “if the boar didn’t do this himself, what caused the rail fence to give way?”

“Better yet,” Cullin said, “who did it and why?”

“Maybe someone was trying to cause problems between the Forest and you and Gan or Lady Elaine?” Leila said.

“Or harm her. But why?” Cullin said.

Leila shrugged. “That I don’t have an answer to.”

“The Lady Sulis asked me to protect Mistress Thistleberry. Maybe she didn’t know why, but fate has a way to unwind itself,” he said. He stepped off the boundary wall. “Maybe there’s more need than I realized.”

“Now what?” the nymph asked.

“I think I should go and talk with Thistleberry,” the Tree Shepherd said.

“Good idea. Let’s go,” Leila said. “Anyway, I want to give her the book I just finished.”

Cullin sighed, pulled his hat down a little more, and began walking.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<

At the Goblin Market Dragon Station, it was a quiet moment at the customer counter. Wanna was taking care of the freight line, while Lana was handling both message delivery and ticket sales. Not that there was much business for tickets. People at Goblin Market didn’t travel that much.

“Look at all the messages that Master Myron got in today! More than the Mayor got, by a long shot,” Sheena, whose main job was sorting, and occasionally delivering messages in town, said, bringing in a fresh batch in a box to set on the counter next to Lana. “This is what came in on this morning’s passenger carriage. Ten pieces. Why would anybody write to that strange old man?”

“The herbal business is rather widespread,” Wanna said. “Even areas like Goblin Market have things that aren’t common in other parts of the world.”

“I guess,” Sheena said. “But he’s still an odd person. I wonder if people met him if they’d still want to do business with him. Three messages for the DIC office.” Sheena laid them on the counter next to her. “That Umber,” she said, with a voice that sounded disapproving. “I believe his uncle writes him every two days. More than his mother does.”

“He has close ties to his family,” Lana said. She began putting older messages into a separate box to make room for the new ones, avoiding looking at the other woman.

“Oh, that’s right. You talk to him a lot,” Sheena replied. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that I’m not used to family like that.” She pulled out a bundle of messages that had been tied together. “These go to Allynswood.”

“I’ll get Rizer on it. He can drive over there right away,” Wanna said. “We have some freight heading there today as well.”

Sheena nodded. “Did you talk to either of those two DIC guys that came in a couple of days ago?” she asked. “The taller one – he’s pretty dreamy.”

“I didn’t think you liked Gray types,” Lana said.

“Not most of them,” Sheena said, with a mildly wicked look. “But I’d make an exception for him.”

Lana rolled her eyes.

Just then, a woman came up to Wanna’s window, with multiple bundles.

“Good morning, Mistress Cabris,” Wanna said as the Bauchan woman dropped the box of bundled packages on the counter. “How goes the candy business?”

“Sweetly!” Sella Cabris said. She gave Wanna a big smile and gave a toss of her reddish hair. “Ever since Lady Gwenyth Allyns moved to Greenholt with Lady Arriane, I get so many orders from the White Isle for some of my special candies. These need to go express, and get delivered today. Last minute orders for Crossing Day.”

“We’ll see to it,” Wanna said.

Sheena watched the two women for a moment, and then grabbed an empty message box from under the counter. “Well, I better get back. Won’t be long before the morning freight run, and that always has more messages than the morning express.”

Wanna waved at her as she left. Lana visibly relaxed once she disappeared into the back.

There weren’t very many people in the building at the moment. There were a couple talking to a trip advisor, and three people sitting in the waiting area. They had come in on the morning express from Waterford by Glint, and Lana suspected they had belongings coming in on the freight shipment or else were waiting for someone to come pick them up. There wouldn’t be another passenger carriage arriving for a couple of hours. These were scenes she had seen many times before, so she used the time to start sorting through her paperwork.

She had almost gotten to the bottom of the stack when one of the local men made his way to the counter, almost hesitantly, as if he were afraid she was going to scold him.

“Master Hobber,” Lana said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. She had dealt with him before, and although she found him overly oily and condescending, she knew what he was involved in, and indeed, he knew her for part of a network he sometimes chose to use. Idly, she wondered if Umber had a file on him in the DIC office.

“I have a message to send,” he said quietly, shoving a sealed envelope towards her. It was not a standard Dragon Web message form, but then, she didn’t expect one of those from him. It was marked with bright red seals, and she knew from past experience that they had been reinforced with some sort of magic. She could faintly see the enhanced glow from it. It made senders feel better when they used it, but it was a type of magic that was very easily broken with tools that were not that rare.

She did not mention that to him as she passed on a standard message sleeve for him to fill out.

“It’s one of those messages,” he said. “You know what to do.”

She gave him a curt nod, took the sealed message, placed it in the message sleeve and closed it up. “To the usual?”

He nodded.

“I’ll make sure it gets out today,” she said, putting it below the counter.

He nodded once more, turned, and hurried out of the station.

“That Hobber is a strange man,” Mistress Cabris said, as she finished up her business with Wanna. “I don’t know what Master Turbot sees in him.”

“It takes all types,” Wanna replied, handing Cabris her receipt. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Lana told Wanna.

“No rush,” she replied. “You can see how busy we are.”

Grabbing Hobber’s letter, Lana grabbed her bag and walked to an empty room in the back. She took a small device out of it – something larger than a typical jump stone, with a small shelf that could hold envelopes. Lana put the message on that. “Hobber indeed is a strange man, but sometimes he comes up with good information.”

She gingerly put the device on the desk that dominated the entire room. “I hope Master Ruell finds this interesting.” Sliding the button, she stepped back and the message and device were no longer there. “Wonder what my DIC grandfather would have thought about me sending off messages to the White Circle?”

Picking up her bag, she headed back to the counter.