11.6
Jewel found Smithson and her husband were less than enthused by how rapidly they had to depart after the late Summer Harvest Festival.
But despite the discomfort and moaning her party was ready and already riding.
Kliatbatrn, as the closest of her trusted vassals, would oversee the needs of Noble Law in Kaeketeh. She would have preferred to have another year with Paul to watch over the city and the courtly business of Viznove.
But the High King had called.
“And you do this every year?”
Paul shivered despite his thick traveling coat, the lingering touch of the black wheat apparently sticking with her husband longer than anyone else in the group. Jewel wondered if some of the less ‘provincial’ of her guests might also be suffering as he did.
Smithson laughed with her. His voice reverberated through her smaller back.
Making her spawn self acutely aware of her new travel clothes.
It seemed absurd to make them so small but Gem had so far failed to manifest very much growth despite her age. Gwenn was now a good foot taller than her!
Her recently declared attending Knight responded with a knowing smile.
“Just abouts yeah, don’t worry just make sure you have enough beer and that you don’t stare much at anything. I try not to look at my meals for a good day or two afterwards. It tends to keep crawling for hours the first morning.”
Jewel sighed and chuckled along with smithson. She could not afford to see how the other guests fared due to their constrained schedule but imagined the soft among them might be dealing with something similar this morning.
Alas they had to depart as soon as the sun rose or else she might risk missing her appointed summons by an entire season!
Even at a solid march their party would take essentially the entirety of grain turn and then some well into debt season to reach the capital. If their itinerary was delayed in their travels it could be even longer. Which Muriel assured it very well could be.
The march was a proper entourage.
Jewel, Smithson (with Gem), Paul and Muriel at the head.
Almost thirty Valasect footmen, Dariusz and his family, horse enough for all of them and then further hackneys and mules for their luggage and supplies.
Joining them for this leg of the journey was also Father, Mother, Gwenn, Alexander and her family’s household. Bromthil was taking up the rear with Father’s footmen. Deeming that the actual threats would avoid ambushing a dragon, the Rochford footmen were also more experienced in woodland fighting on the road.
Mother and Father were near the rear of the party, Mother with her usual after summer harvest wineskin. Her parents were usually quiet and slow each summer. And this year they had partaken of the black wheat twice in ten days!
She had never felt the effects despite eating it every year.
But like the bite of cold and the cut of fire Jewel assumed this was due to her wyrmish nature.
“Ugh! This is what every provincial lord goes through every year?!”
Jewel hummed with a deep resonance before letting the words free from her throat.
“It is the way of Rochford, from the look of them none of the River baronies or shore demesne practice it. But within the interior and along the northern hills? Lord Mertod from Ox glen and Lady Petra of Ostara were familiar with what was coming.”
Muriel nodded along with it.
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“They both host some of the largest fields of wheat and barley in Viznove and often have the longest raining season. The black wheat is a blessing of rain gods, The temples will give alms or silver for any heads or seed marked with the char of sky fire’s touch come threshing. In the smaller villages the wise women also covet it and pay good silver or favors.”
Jewel winced at the mention of the price of black wheat.
“Indeed! Buying enough for the sacrament of just the guests and bringing it to Kaeketeh was nearly more expensive than the spices for the feast.”
They were making good time on the dry roads of grain turn.
They should make Hożanka’s inn well before nightfall with the still long summer days. Jewel was looking forward to seeing her Kitchen Master’s mother and how she would embarrass him.
In Rochford they would resupply but the nearly thirty days expected of solid travel forbade any but a single night’s rest. At least there was not going to be any mud or flooding expected in grainturn.
Word was the roads should be clear to the Capital. Although if they made poor time they might be caught in a skyway in debt season. The chill of winter was said to never leave some passes. Although the Cantor road they took had been cut wide enough for two full armies to be able to pass one another, with carts and all!
“Is there anything for the aches in my arms and legs? I know I didn't dance all that hard surely?!”
Her dear precious husband continued to groan and complain just like a child after their first taste of a Summer’s Harvest sacrament.
It spread another chuckle through the crowd of Rochford natives surrounding him. Jewel was unable to contain the full bellied outburst of squealing delight that tore its way out of Gem and then echoed back from her larger throat.
Her husband scowled a bit but his lips kept quirking towards a smile and for all his stated displeasure his eyes were joyful.
Jewel finally got both forms of her laughter under control enough to speak.
“Apologies husband, but It’s just most children in Rochford have gone through this very thing and complain just as you do. It’s very endearing honestly. For you to complain as a grown man of seventeen winters!”
Muriel for some reason started laughing and shaking her head at that. Muttering “grown man” although Jewel did not know why. Still the jovial air continued, a good mix with the pre-autumn warmth of the day.
Even Gem’s slight frame could appreciate the way it was neither too hot nor cold. Soothing, refreshing, warming and pleasant all around.
Just a lick of sweat to the air from man and horse to mingle and perfume the scent of the forest and dry dirt of the road. Moss and leaves exhaling faintly into the gentle wind of final summer amidst the hills and valleys of Viznove.
Jewel flexed her wings as they came upon another clearing in the canopy. Offering sheltering shade for her party and invigorating sunlight for herself.
A tall grassed meadow with a low hill of collapsed stone and long rotted timbres.
Likely some old cantoran fort or perhaps other waystation.
Small furry creatures left their scent on the stones there and when Jewel called silently to them she heard a sleepy fuzziness of many warm days just like this one. The voice of the stones murmuring and mumbling with the gentle wind. Trees sang and cheered to the sky, drinking the sun greedily for these last few days before their slumber.
Moss hummed and burbled, in places hissing and complaining where a break in the canopy let too much brightness through.
All of it a slow and steady chorus that welled up around Jewel.
Following the steady slow beat of her feet and hands brushing the dirt of the path. Her coils rising and falling in a smooth wave almost drifting on the wind for how full and flushed she was in Wyrmflame.
“What thoughts consume you dear wife?”
Paul’s words startled her out of the steady rhythm and sway of the world. Causing her step to skip and scrabble a bit at the dirt. Her wyrmflame rising a bit too much to get a proper grip. Leading to a few flails in air before she released enough to land and gain traction again.
“Ah! Apologies dear husband, I was just listening to the forest.”
He was quiet for a moment, almost long enough for Jewel to conclude her answer was enough and that she might resume her pass time. But then he spoke, softer voiced and with a hint of wonder.
“What does it sound like? To you that is?”
Now it was Jewel’s turn for quiet, considering the welling up of the world. The voices that were unheard and the wordless meaning.
She considered what she couldn't feel when alone as only Gem.
“Sleepy, the rocks, the stones, the dirt, the trees. They are calm, they move slowly. Like a sleepy griffon or great hounds. The youngest saplings and shrubs mewl for drops of sunlight, the eldest almost rumble and shift at their pleas. Some parcel sun through their roots to their progeny. Others stand and shroud the youths, smothering them even now.”
Tsulogothulan spoke up in reply.
“Just So. Just So.”
For some reason Paul was startled enough to drive his horse a few steps ahead.