Daria On the Trail Reorganizing The Company Two:

DISCLAIMER: I do not own either A Song of Ice and Fire or A Game of Thrones. I do not own Daria Morgendorffer either. This story is based on my research on the real Oregon Trail, not on the computer game of the same name.

This work of fiction is written for my own amusement and for ego gratification, not for profit.

Thanks again to Ultimate Paladin for the ideas that helped me start this story.

Daria On The Trail* Daria On The Trail* Daria On The Trail

Kara and I turned around after the last wagon of Ridge's company rolled past. He was gone, for better or worse, and I wouldn't miss his quarreling and blind arrogance. I'd known caravan-masters back in Westeros, strong-willed, forceful men with little respect for anyone's opinion but their own, but by and large they'd had years of experience and looking backwards, their arrogance was justified. Unlike Thomas Ridge, they knew what they were doing. For a moment I wondered how old Brus or Thorne would have reacted to a carter like Ridge. I didn't have to wonder for long: I could almost see an angry Caravanner punching Ridge in the jaw, then telling him to shut up and do what he was told.

Kara looked downcast. I didn't have to ask how she was feeling: I felt a little of that myself.

"I'll miss them," she said.

"So will I," I said. "I may not like many of them but some of them are good people."

"I hope that the Father and the Crone watches over them and that the Mother will show Mercy on them," said Kara.

"So may it be," I replied.

Harry Bass was walking behind us, no doubt fuming at how he'd just been treated. I wondered if he'd be willing to join my company or if he'd try to rejoin Ridge's people. I decided to take a chance.

"Mr. Bass," I said.

"What?" he said. I could tell he was still smarting from his humiliation.

"We aren't leaving for several days," I said. "Kara and our children would love to see Becky and your children."

A soft nudge, I thought. Maybe he'd rejoin the company, maybe he wouldn't.

I returned to my wagon. I'd left letters there and I had business at the post office.

Over the few years since the Arch had opened and the brief few months I'd come through it to these new lands, I had come to admire the idea of a regular mail service. The idea that anyone—anyone—could write and send letters to each other without the need of ravens and Maesters had been astonishing when I learned of it. Such a thing had been unknown in any of the Seven Kingdoms: while Maesters and the highborn had access to Ravens, the rest of us had been forced to rely on friends and trusted couriers. It had been a slow, erratic, and unreliable business. Once I learned that there was such a thing as a post office, I wondered why we couldn't have such a thing ourselves.

Back in the Riverlands, I had read in the newspaper that such a thing was discussed, but nothing was done. Eddard Stark of the North had assented to the idea in his lands, although several of his nobles would not let the mail carriers go through. The same had occurred in the Riverlands: Hoster Tully had assented, but the Freys wouldn't allow his mail carriers to do business in their lands. And so on and so forth. Still, in spite of the high lords' indifference or opposition, some efforts were made. The Freys had sponsored their own mail service. Their doing so had caused the start of several newspapers, which was how I'd found out about the Oregon Country and the other cheap lands lying beyond the Arch.

It took me a little effort to find the letters that Kara and I had written the day before, but once in hand I set off for the Post Office. It took me more time to actually get there; there were a lot of buildings at Fort Laramie and I had to ask a couple of soldiers which one of them was the post office, My search was made easier by the fact that I knew that the Post Office was next to the Sutler's store and that there were other Emigrants either mailing letters to friends and family or shopping at the store next door. There was a small crowd at the window and I took my place in line behind a couple of Yankees and another foreigner who came from someplace called the Netherlands. I mailed three letters that morning: one to Brother Osgood, the Septon I'd met at Westport, another to Merrill Laughingwater, the new village elder back in my old home, and Kara's letter to Mrs. Farnsworth, the woman with whom we stayed with between our arrival in Missouri and our departure for Westport.

My letter to Brother Osgood said that our Company had crossed most of the western grasslands and were about to cross the mountains. I described such wonders as Chimney Rock and Courthouse Rock and said that we were still in good health. I asked for his prayers. My letter to Laughingwater was much the same as my letter to Brother Osgood, minus the prayers.

My letter to Laughingwater also contained a letter to Rolf: I'd spent much of my time on this side of the Arch worrying about his fate and that of his family and in-laws. I'd hoped and prayed not only that he and his wife were still alive, and that the Gods had given him the inspiration to get out before the Lords Paramount and their armies ravaged their lands and people.

After entrusting my letters to the Fort's postmaster, I went to the store next door. Daria had warned me that the prices were high: I looked over the stock, kept my hands in my pockets and listened. Most of the shoppers were emigrants, although one looked like she might have been the wife or mistress of one of the officers. For the most part they were all Yankees, although one of them had the look and the bearing of someone who might have been from the North. He gave himself away after he handed something back to the shopkeeper and muttered something under his breath in the Old Tongue.

I decided that it was time to introduce myself. "I greet you in the name of the New Gods as well as the Old," I said.

He turned around a gave me a half-smile. "So what are you doing here, Riverman?" he said, his Northern accent plain as day.

"I'm on my way to the Willamette," I replied. "That's in Oregon. And you?"

"I'm working for a man who comes from someplace called England," said the Northerner. "He wants me to help him drive his wagon."

I smiled. "I did some of that in my time," I said. "I traveled with a merchant caravan all the way down to Dorne when I was a lad, then helped drive wagons for the Tullys' army when King Robert overthrew the Dragons."

"And the point is?" said the Northerner.

"I am a Captain of a party of travelers bound for Oregon," I replied. "I am looking for other families to travel with us. If your boss"—I used the Yankee word—"has fallen out with his company's captain, look me up."

"I may do that," said the Northerner. "I am Joss," he said.

"Joss?" I said. "Jos, son of…?"

"Just Joss," he said.

"I'm Orrick Trout," I replied. "Well-met."

-(((O-O)))-

I returned to our campsite to find Daria reading and Kara in a good mood.

"I mailed your letter," I said. Kara smiled and thanked me.

"I might have some good news" she said.

"Oh?" I said with a smile.

"I think that we might have some replacements for those families who left with Mister Ridge," she said.

"Really?" I said.

"Daria and I met them a few days ago," she replied. "They're women from the Seven Kingdoms. Their families were forced to leave their company by some Three-in-One God fanatics and they're looking for other people to travel with. Daria thinks that they might be a good addition to our Company."

My first thought was to look them up and invite them to join us. I paused. I wanted to immediately accept them into the company. I would have accepted them if this was Westeros and if I was leading a party of Riverlanders. Unfortunately, save for my family, the rest of my company were Yankees and except for Daria and the Stauffers, I had no idea as to whether the rest of my company would accept having more Westerosi among our numbers. They might be willing, but I was uncertain as to whether they would be willing to accepting or if it was merely my fond wishes. I did not want to tear my company apart.

"They might be," I said, hating what I had to say next. "But I don't think I can take them unless the rest of the company agrees. I'll call a meeting and ask for a vote."

"You would call for a vote?" said Kara. "Some would say Nay and these poor souls would be left stranded."

"Not so," I replied. "I would call for a vote. If a majority of our company agrees, they can join us."

"Husband, this is cold," said Kara. "They are people of our faith."

"I know," I said. "And I hope that the Seven will forgive me. But matters of religion are a touchy subject for the Yankees and I do not know the rest of the company would react if I simply announced that they'd joined the company."

"The Seven would demand that we obey the laws of hospitality and give them Guest Right," said Kara.

"And if I ruled this Company the way a Lord ruled over his land, I'd take them in and hurt feelings be d_ned," I replied. "But that's not the way they do things. I lead this company because the others dumped Ridge and chose me. They can dump me to if they decide that I've offended their Three-In-One god or something. I'll call for a meeting tomorrow, ask them to take in the newcomers and take a vote."

"I still say that you should take them in," said Kara. I saw the onset of a quarrel but decided to postpone it until after our evening meal. I turned away and set to inspecting the remaining wagons.

-(((O-O)))-

When I look back on that day, I can't help if the Gods—or the God—were watching. I had been looking over the Fraleys' wagon, noting what needed repairs—the wheels' tires needed tightening—when I saw several men and a boy approach me.

Two of the men wore Riverland-style blouses and all four wore decorated belts. That and the way they comported themselves told me that they weren't Yankees. My first thought was that they could be countrymen from the Riverlands. I decided to chance it. "I greet you in the name of the New Gods as well as the Old," I said.

"Well met," said one of them.

Their expressions changed from suspicions to something friendlier. "And I greet you," said one of the men, a man wearing a Riverland blouse over Yankee trousers and boots. "I am Jankin Brook."

"Well met," I said. "I am Orrick Trout."

"Well met," said Jankin. "And this is Creyell Wells, Mikel Thatch, and Leon Carp and his oldest boy Hoster."

"What brings you by our camp?" I said.

"Our wives came by earlier and conversed with your wife," said Jankin. "They told us that you and your family were from the Riverlands and that you were leading a Company across the mountains to Oregon."

"I am." I said. "The men in my company decided that I'd do a better job leading them to Oregon than our old Captain and chose me to replace him."

"I may have heard of you," I said. "I have heard talk that a Three-in-One God fanatic forced some Westerosi to leave their Company because they would not give up their faith in the Seven."

"That would be us," said Jankin. "We were thrown out of our company at the behest of someone who calls himself Brother Jonas. He not only said that the Seven aren't real but that the others in our old company were going to a hell for letting us travel with them. For a follower of a god of love, he's a hateful old bastard."

"And?" I said. I knew that it was sinful to leave these people stranded here, but I could not simply tell them that they were now members of my company.

"We would like to join your Company if we may," said Jankin.

"I am looking for new families and outfits to replace those who left with Thomas Ridge," I said, "but…" The way Brook looked at me it was if I could read his thoughts. "But what?" he seemed to be saying.

"As much as I would welcome friends from the old country, my leadership is not so strong that I can simply admit you to my Company simply because I said so," I said. "When our old company was formed at Westport, each outfit was admitted by a vote of the heads of families. That is still so. I need their support to bring you in."

"And one other thing," I added. "Something equally important."

"And what is that?" said the elder Carp.

"We have a general fund to repair wagons, replace oxen, and to handle other expenses. I expect you ro contribute. I also insist that your animals will be in good health and that every wagon I will be leading west will be in good repair before we leave this place. I will show no favoritism about lame or sickly animals or creaky wagons just because we all came from the Seven Kingdoms." On that point, I was going to be unbending. "If your animals are healthy and your wagons in good repair, I will argue for your joining our company."

"So can we join your company?" said Jankin.

"I can only do what I can do today," I said. "I can't predict tomorrow's vote. But I can look over your animals and your outfits today so I'll have arrows for tomorrow's quiver. If the others choose to be idiots, I can give my recommendations for you to present for the next company that comes through."

"Agreed?" I said.

The men looked at me, then looked at each other. "Just like a damn Yankee," one of them muttered.

"Should we let him look at our wagons?" said one of the others.

"Yes," said the elder Carp. "He is supposed to know his way around wagons, which is more than I can say for most of the Yankees we've dealt with."

"All right," said Jankin.

"Let's get started," I said.

-(((O-O)))-

I walked over to the newcomer's camp site and looked over their wagons and harness. I was not as impressed with their wagon-makers' work as I had been with that in my own company. I saw several places where the Riverlanders' wagons would need repairs and need them soon.

I pointed them out. "Someone took advantage of you when you were buying your outfit," I said. "Wells, your tongue looks like it's warping. Thatch, the villain who sold you that wagon and forgot to tell you about your rear axle is going to have to learn Andal in the next life, because he's surely bound for one of the Seven Hells. And Carp, you do want to repair your rear gate. We will be fording more rivers further west." I pointed out other defects. When I was done, the men looked at me with dismay. I knew I was harsh, but I knew that to bend was dangerous, not just for these men, but for the rest of my company.

"I know I sound harsh," I concluded. "I admit it. But I'm just as hard on the Yankees already in our company. If you are accepted, we will be travelling to Oregon together and we need to do what we can."

-(((O-O)))-

I returned to my own campsite shortly afterwards. I felt horrible. I found Daria pouring through one of the guidebooks. Good. I needed her. But I also needed something else from her.

"Daria?" I said. "How do you know your people's holy books?"

"Not that well," she said. "Unlike some people I don't know it Chapter, Line and Verse." I frowned. I hoped she knew it better.

"I want to persuade the rest of the Company to accept several families from the Seven Kingdoms," I said. "I remember hearing that your holy book had verses about welcoming strangers into their midst. I'd like you to find them, and have them ready for use at tomorrow's meeting. We may need them when I introduce some newcomers who want to journey with us."

"That I think I can do," said Daria.