Disclaimer: I own nothing!
I reached my old 4K+ wordcount! Finally!
Anyway, bear with me on this chapter, it's similar to the one in Eldest but that's because they're not in Teirm yet. Teirm!
Chapter 38: Traversing New Lands
Garrow idly scratched his thickly growing beard as he surveyed Narda from his perch. The small town looked big to the eyes of villagers, but as a man who has been away from Carvahall for quite some time before, Narda seemed quite small. He could see a small glimpse of the wine-red sea, catching the color of the late sunset. The water was fascinating, but it reminded him too much of how things have changed – not just for him and his boys, but for Carvahall itself.
He was just glad that they made it.
Leaving his watching spot, Garrow shuffled to his makeshift tent, taking in the cool, salty air. The villagers camped high in the foothills in the Spine. After all, they had to avoid people who might detect them and be alarmed enough to attack them – or worse, inform the Empire of their whereabouts.
Garrow slowly walked through the little groups that the villagers made, huddling beneath the trees. He felt sad – and the tiniest bit angry – at their current situation. Since leaving Palancar Valley, traversing the mountains ended up leaving people sick and weary. Most were thinner than ever from the increasingly lesser amount of food that they got day by day. Their clodes were worn and tattered. Most people tied rags around their hands just to stave away frostbite during the cold nights up in the mountains. Even the proudest shoulders – Garrow eyed Sloan, who was talking quietly to Gedric – were now bowed from the weeks spent carrying packs. What wrenched his heart the most were the thin, still children.
His fists automatically clenched. He was the one who brought this upon them, and they were all willing to go along with everything he planned. They deserved better.
Asmall groups of people approached him, simply wanting to offer an encouraging nod or touch on the shoulder. Some of the most downcast ones received words of comfort from him. A number of villagers offered him bits of food that he promptly refused. When some began to insist, he gave them to somebody else – the children benefitting most of the time. Some remained at a distance, though – the ones who continued to doubt him… though oddly coming along with him. They believed a mix of stories about him, that he could be mad, possessed by some spirits, that not even the Forsworn can defeat him in a fair fight.
He supressed the urge to grin. None of those were true.
Their trek across the Spine was harder than Garrow imagined. Though he travelled a fair amount of distance since being rescued by Brom and the Riders, it still wasn't enough to prepare him for the harrowing journey that the Spine led them to. The exertions forced upon them by chopping through trees and clearing paths kept most men and even a number of women fit. Sadly, three elderly people froze in the snow, terrifying Garrow into nightmares of everyone dying because of him. A boy broke his arm in a fall, someone drowned in a stream, then there were the wolves and bears. Their livestock were not completely safe with them, not even with the watchfires that they began to light after being far enough from the valley and the soldiers.
Hunger was their worst enemy, and yet they persisted. Sometimes it seemed like they survived through sheer stubbornness – the same thing that kept their ancestors in the valley alive through famine and war. It was also the same thing that made sure it took an age and a half to reach a decision in the village, but once they did, they were more than unstoppable.
And now they finally reached Narda, or at least as close as they can get that night. Hope and accomplishment seeped through the weary camp, bolstering their confidence as the knowledge that they have come so far finally dawned on them.
"Not that we'll be safe until we leave the Empire," Garrow muttered sullenly as he sat down for dinner with Horst's family.
"Of course," Horst said, biting into the small piece of bread that rations alotted him. "But we're getting there, are we not?"
Garrow let out his tension with a long puff of breath. "We can't be caught. Not when we've gone so far. I feel responsible for everyone here." And he embraced the responsibility with all his being. It allowed him to protect the village from Galbatorix while finding a way to help the Riders somehow.
Dawn came too quickly for Garrow. He led Horst, Baldor, Loring's three sons and even Gertrude through their camp and to Narda, dressed in the most presentable clothes that they had… which was not saying much. They followed the foothills, descending to the main road, doing their best to stay out of sight until they reached the lane. The air felt thick once they reached the lowlands, and it felt more difficult to breathe.
The ax hanging from Garrow's belt felt heavier as they approached Narda's gate, which was guarded by two heavily armed gazes caught Garrow's group, and the man on the left's eyes narrowed as he noticed their generally ragged appearance. With a signal, he and his companion lowered their poleaxes, barring the entrance.
"Where'd you be from?" the man on the right asked. He couldn't be older than twenty-five, but his hair was pure white. Garrow felt glad that his hair was only graying.
Horst swelled his chest and crossed his arms. "Roundabouts Teirm, if you want to know."
"Then what brings you here?"
"Trade. Naturally." Horst's lip twitched – either in amusement or because of the lie, Garrow wasn't sure. "We work for shopkeepers who want to buy direct goods from Narda. It is not as expensive as waiting for the usual merchants."
"Is that so, eh? What goods would those be?"
Before anyone else could answer, Gertrude stepped up. "I specialize in herbs and medicine. The plants I've received from here are either too old or moldy. Not exactly useful when they're already spoiled. I have to purchase a fresh supply."
"My brothers and I wish to bargain with cobblers," Darmmen threw in. "Northern style shoes are quite fashionable in Dras-Leona and Uru'baen especially during this time of the year. Well, at least they were when we set out," he added with a timely grimace.
"So you say," the soldier said with a roll of his eyes. He pointed to Garrow with his ax. "What about that one? What does he do?"
"Pottery."
"Say what?"
"Are you deaf, lad? I said, pottery!"
"Then what be that ax for?"
Garrow let out a grumpy huff that would probably have earned approval from Sloan. "Do you think we'd survive the trek here without weapons, eh? Dangerous times ahead… bandits, wolves and bears are just some of our worries."
The soldier let out his own grumpy huff. His distrustul gaze ran over the group. "Be as that may, none of you look like tradesmen to me. I'd sooner believe you be starved alley cats."
"Travel has become more difficult. Trouble can easily be found on the road," argued Gertrude.
"That I'd easily believe, but where are your horses? Don't tell me that you walked all the way from Teirm!"
Hamund, Darmmen's brother, stepped forward. "We left them at our camp with some of our fellows. He pointed to the south, to the very opposite of their real campsite.
"No coin to stay in town, eh?" The soldier laughed scornfully, raising his ax as his companion followed him. "All right, we'll let you pass. Just make sure not to cause any trouble else you'll get sent to the stocks immediately… or worse."
With those ominous last words, the villagers strode into Narda.
After covering a few meters, Garrow noticed amassive message board, barely protected by a narrow shingle roof. At least half the board was devoted to official notices and proclamations – if anyone even bothered to read them. The other half contained various posters holding sketches of numerous wanted criminals suspected to prowl the city.
Garrow almost staggered back when he noticed that one of the biggest drawings was of him before Carvahall's ordeal began. He was glad to realize that gaining some muscles and growing a beard was a helpful disguise.
Thoughtfully stroking his beard, Garrow's eyes darted around, looking for people close enough to compare his face to the illustration. Judging it safe enough, he looked back to the poster. He knew that the Empire would pursue them, but seeing the proof still surprised him. He knew that Galbatorix was expending his available resources to catch them, and it wasn't difficult to wonder why.
He idly speculated that other similar posters are nailed up throughout the Empire. The thought made him grin. He wasn't going to be a victim anymore, waiting for a Rider to save him. He was going to help the Riders instead. Somehow.
He noticed the reward attached to his image – ten thousand crowns. That would have been enough for anyone to live in relative comfort for several decades. He chuckled, pleased at the size of the reward. It made him feel more important and more dangerous.
He noticed the other posters surrounding his, and he felt his chest tighten. It was the image of the six Riders.
His sons were alive.
Relief was enough to make him brave enough to have challenged anyone who tried to arrest him. Sadly, no one did. He squinted at the board. "Treason… and earldom for the people who would capture any of the Riders. What he would do with six earls, I have no idea."
"Besides, what would his gods-forsaken Forsworn be doing if not searching for them – and us?" Horst's let out a shuddering breath. His fingers traced the posters of the girls that Garrow remembered as Arya and Nasuada. "So these are the two others that accompanied them?"
Baldor's lip twitched. "They must've already revealed their true nature throughout Alagaesia," he muttered.
"Or even buggered the king himself." Larne, another of Darmmen's brothers, let out low chuckle.
"Enough." Horst cleared his throat. "We must guard our tongue better from now on before we end up clapped in irons or worse. Garrow, avoid drawing attention to yourself. That's a big reward the king has out for you. People will be keeping an eye out for even the slightest similarities to you." He pulled up his belt and smoothed out his hair. "We have jobs to do here, and you better remember what they're supposed to be. We'll be meeting here at noon, got that?"
The group split into three. Darmmen took his brothers with him to purchase food for the villagers, anticipating both present and future needs. They've completed the first part of their journey, and they had t osurvive the next. Gertrude stayed true to what she told the guard. She departed to stock up on herbs and other materials for healing.
That left Garrow, Horst and three men followed the sloping streets, veering for the docks where they hoped to charter a ship. They traversed the weathered boardwalk that covered the beach, and Garrow couldn't help but stop and admire the gray ocean, reflecting the clouds above with lazy ripples. The horizon seemed so flat and vast. The sound of waves and the various fishy odors overwhelmed everything else.
Horst chuckled, noticing that both Garrow and Baldor were staring at the hypnotic sea. "Isn't it quite the sight, though?"
"Aye, it is. Makes me feel so small." Garrow shook his head.
Baldor glanced at his father. "You've seen this before, right, Father?"
"How many times must I say yes?" Horst chuckled. "It had a similar effect on me the first time." Flockes of seagulls whirled over the cove, along with a strange sort of bird perching itself on the piers. "You remember Bartram, Garrow?"
"Aye. He was a good man, old Bartram. Shame he died early." Garrow remembered Bartram, a massive man with a hearty laugh. He died during an especially cold winter, when he rescued a child who fell down a well. "I was seventeen, then. You were… what, fifteen? I remembered you departing the next spring."
"Yes. I had to find a smith to finish another man's work, so I travelled to Ceunon, built along the North Sea. I had only one year of my apprenticeship left. Kelton was a vile old man, far farom Bartram, but a good smith. He agreed to teach me. I was willing to both thank and curse him by the time we were done."
"Why not thank him? You wouldn't have met Mother, otherwise." Baldor grinned.
"More like ran off with her. She's Kelton's granddaughter."
A frown etched itself on Garrow's face as he surveyed the waterfront, observing a very important detail. "There aren't many ships," he said, fighting off nervousness. He could see at least two ships, but the rest were nothing but fishing boats and dinghies. And one of the three ships had a broken mast. Though he was not one to judge with his lack of experience with ships, Garrow was sure that none of those appeared large enough to carry the villagers.
Upon investigating further, the three men also discovered that the ships were all engaged in one voyage or another. A month or more would pass before the ship with the broken mast would be repaired. The vessel beside it was an impressive craft though. Waverunner was rigged with leather sails. It was ready for its voyage north, to the danger-filled islands where the Seithr plant grew. Just hearing about it made Garrow shudder. The Albatross was the last ship, which just arrived from Feinster. It was having its seams repaired before departing with its cargo – wool.
A mocking dockworker explained to them the reason for the lack of ships. Most of the spring ships departed weeks ago. They had to wait another month or so before seal and walrus hunters and their ships arrive, along with the ships from Teirm and the rest of the Empire to take the hides, meat and oil. Apparently it was also difficult and expensive to hire an empty ship's captain.
Frustrated, Garrow surveyed the vast sea before him. Desperation clawed at his thoughts. "Isn't there any other way to get goods from here to Teirm? We don't mind if it isn't fast or comfortable, as long as we get there."
The dockworker hefted a box on his shoulder. He seemed eager to leave. "If that is the case, you can always try Clovis over there." He pointed to a line of sheds that floated between two piers that kept boats in store. "He owns some barges and he ships grains on them in the fall. Otherwise, you can usually find him fishing for a living like everyone else in Narda." The dockworker eyed them suspiciously. "What goods do you have wit' you, anyways? All sheep have been shorn this time of the year, an' there ain't no crops in yet."
"Oh, a bit of this and that," Horst said, giving the man a copper piece.
The dockworker's eyes brightened. With a wink and a nudge, he hefted his box again. "Right you are then, my good sir. This an' that I know very much. They come with dodges, they do, but there ain't no need to fear Ulric. I'll be keeping mum." He strolled off with a whistle.
Sadly, Clovis was not in the docks. They had to get directions to his house instead. Halfway through, Baldor was already looking disheartened. "Look, Garrow, maybe we should look for another way to reach Teirm. I do not think that this will work."
Garrow pursed his lips. He had almost single-mindedly focused on his plans, that he almost forgot that his plans relied on circumstances. "Time is our enemy," he finally said. "I know you are worried, Baldor, but trust me on this. I have a feeling that this Clovis is the key to the next part of our journey, and Carvahall's survival"
Baldor nodded thoughtfully. A good thing about the lad was that he did not have the fire in his blood, unlike Albreich. "Very well. We trust your judgement."
Garrow hoped that their trust did not lead them to their doom.
After half an hour of running around the city, they found Clovis outside his house – all the way to the other side of Narda. He was busy plating iris bulbs along the path that led to his front door. The man was short and stout, with suburned cheeks and a salt-and-pepper beard. They wasted another hour in convincing him that they really were interested in their barges in spite of the season. By then, he led the to the sheds behind his home, revealing three identical barges seventy-five feet long and twenty feet wide. The Merrybell was painted yellow, Edeline blue, and Red Boar was naturally red.
The crafts themselves were very interesting, even without Clovis' attempts to convince them that his barges were the best. Sadly, the crewmen who often worked with Clovis were out to hunt seals already, since they were apparently free to go after shipping out the goods after harvest.
Garrow closely examined the nearest barge, assessing its old appearance. The wood was sound and the paint was fresh, though. "If we replace the missing men in your crew, how much would it cost us to go to Teirm with three barges?" he asked. As if the entire village had enough money that they can pool together, but he had to take his chances.
"Well, that depends," Clovis said slowly. "Sailors earn fifteen coppers per day, plus food and whiskey. What your men earn would be your own business, of course. No use putting them on my payroll. Then the matter of the guards…"
"Yes, yes, they are also off hunting," Horst finished for him.
Garrow frowned. "You know, we can also provide our guards as well."
Clovis swallowed visibly. "I guess that will be more than reasonable. Aside from the crew's wages, I charge a fixed fee of two hundred crowns and recompense for any damages to the barges on account of your men. As owner and captain, I also charge twelve percent of the total profit from sale of the cargo."
"This trip we are talking about will have no profit," Garrow said quietly. "It is going to be a one way trip for us."
Clovis stepped back a little, apparently unnerved. He used his left thumb to rub the dimple on his chin thoughtfully. "If that be the case, then I shall charge another four hundred crowns upon completion of the voyage. If I may be so bold to inquire, good sirs, what do you wish to transport?"
Garrow slowed down, afraid of frightening the man. "Livestock."
"Be they sheep, cattle, horses, goats, oxen… the like?"
"Yes, the like, I guess. Our herds contain an assortment of animals."
"But why Teirm?"
Garrow almost smiled. Clovis' confusion amused him, but he did not want to use the man. "We have our reasons. But would you consider sailing past Teirm?"
"No!" Clovis went white upon realizing his outburst. "Teirm's my limit, my good sirs, I swear it is. I do not know the waters beyond. And I could not leave my wife and daughter longer than necessary."
Garrow understood that. He would have felt the same in Clovis' place. As a matter of fact, he still worried about Roran, Murtagh and Eragon whenever he had enough energy to spend for it. Knowing the possible dangers they faced made it worse. "Very well. When could you be ready?" he asked finally.
Clovis stepped forward hesitantly. "Mayhap five or six days. Better if you wait for a week. I need to attend to some… affairs… before we depart."
"We could pay you an additional ten crowns to leave the day after tomorrow." When Clovis was about to complain, Garrow smiled. "Twelve crowns?"
"Very well. Day after tomorrow it is, my good sirs." Clovis didn't look too pleased. "I'll find a way to be ready by then."
Garrow nodded, pleased. "Very well, Master Clovis. May I have a minute alone to confer with my associates here?"
"As you wish, ym good sir. I'll have a walk around the docks until you're done." Clovis hurried out of the door. He paused halfway through the door. "I'm sorry, but what be your name again? I'm afraid that I missed it earlier. My memory could be quite dreadful at times."
"Deftblade. Call him that," grunted Horst.
"Ah, of course. A good name, that."
Thirty seconds after the door closed, Horst and Baldor faced Garrow. "We can't afford to hire him, not even if we take all the money that the villagers have."
After relaying his plan of tricking Clovis by giving him only the initial payment of two hundred crowns, Horst and Baldor looked most displeased. In the end though, the two relented since they can't find any other alternatives. Planning took them to having Clovis meet the villagers a league or so down the coast to stay as far as possible from Narda.
The villagers were waiting eagerly around a small fire to hear what Garrow and his companions had to say about Narda. Gertrude and the three brothers were the first to describe their separate adventures. Then Garrow related the news about his poster – and that of the Riders'. People murmured nervously, and Sloan himself seemed uneasy. The butcher must have been worried about his daughter, too.
Horst was the one who spoke about their adventures in the docks – including Clovis and their deal. The villagers were most displeased when he mentioned barges, though. Loring raised his arms for attention, making his way to the front of the group. "Barges?" he growled. "We don't want no stinking barges!" He spat by his foot, earning the other villagers' agreement.
"Please stop and listen, Father," Darmmen said firmly, earning an outraged stare from Loring and a nod of approval from Albreich.
"He's correct! Everyone, shut up!" Delwin's voice had the desired effect. Everyone fell silent as he roared. "Good. We'll be heard if you keep yapping like that!" As the fire crackled merrily, he lowered his voice. "I agree with Loring. Barges are unacceptable. Do you know how slow and vulnerable they are? And what about our privacy? And proper shelter? Horst, Elain is six mnths pregnant already. We have sick people and the infirm with us. We can't let them sit under the blazing sun for weeks."
"We've talked about it, and we can lash tarpaulins over the holds," Horst explained. "It may not seem like much, but it will shield us from the sun and rain."
Birgit stood up, silencing the babble that started among the crowd. "With these two hundred crowns you're giving Clovis, and the money Loring's sons spent, we haven't enough coin to spare after that. Our wealth lies in animals and property, not gold… and we don't have property anymore, eh? And most of our animals are gone. Even if we do turn pirate…" she paused distastefully, " and steal this barges, what about our supplies? And passage farther south?"
"It is important for us to reach Teirm first," Horst growled. "We can think about our next step once we're there. We might have to resort to drastic measures."
Loring scowled. "Drastic? What do you mean drastic? Isn't this drastic enough for you, Horst? Everything we're doing is drastic! I'm not going to use those damned barges, whatever you or your blasted men say. We're not grain and animals. We need ships with cabins and bunks. Don't we deserve to sleep in comfort? We can wait another week or so, wait to se if a ship arrives. There's no harm in that." He continued talking for another fifteen minutes, objecting every single detail in the plan, backed up by Thane and Ridley.
Sloan rolled his eyes. "Well, do you have any brilliant ideas about what you're proposing?"
That shut up the three men.
The other conversations trailed off as Garrow unfolded his legs and stood up straight. His mere presence could now silence the villagers. They watched him with shining eyes, as if expecting another one of his moving speeches. "You know what? It's this or walk."
Then he shuffled off to his tent and went to sleep.
This is my most boring Carvahall chapter. Hopefully things will pick up by the time they reach Teirm and meet Jeod. I bet he'd get along perfectly with Garrow! XD
Anyway, I'm asking a huge, HUGE favor from you guys. I started uploading my original story in Wattpad (link in my profile) and I would appreciate it SO MUCH if you guys would give it a look and hopefully leave a comment/review/whatnot while you're there.
I'm also going back to my old fanfic reading routine by later this month. Work just isn't being cooperative right now. Erk. The BPO industry is not fun.
We'll be starting an ASK THE DRAGONS segment next chapter if I get enough questions for them. So you can also direct questions to anydragon now and they'll be answered next chapter! The story is so serious so we might as well as add a bit of humor at the end of every chapter!
Read and review, as always!