Tales of a Horse Thief, Cycle 2 Part 9a

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Part 9) Loden

Lightning flashed across the northern horizon, great chains through the clouds and numerous bolts slashing to the ground. They sat astride their horses who nervously flicked their ears or swished their tails, periodic gusts of wind buffeted them. Loden stroked CoalPile’s neck and voiced reassuring noises even as he watched the mighty elemental display. What battle did the Goddess of Storms fight? Vrekkan was one of the old gods, people rarely worshipped her these days, but seeing such fury one would be hard pressed not to pay reverent homage.

However, Loden had fallen in with the Goddess of Mercy recently, he was pretty sure that he and Asta would be alright. Still, it was hard not to be moved by such awesome elemental power. He was somewhat concerned the storm might catch them out in the open, though it appeared the clouds were moving to the west or west by southwest at the very least. Certainly there was no shelter within sight. The Drunferdas Plateau consisted of scrag grass, thorny bushes and exposed black rock.

Since leaving the lowlands along the East Sister River, they had been moving uphill for days. Only a few moments ago they had come to the crest of the rise, the land to the north and west appeared flat and uninviting, especially since everything in that direction was a grey twilight of storm and flashing lightning. Loden turned and looked behind them again, the land dropped gradually and just a few yat away everything was bathed in sunlight as far as one could see to the south and east. He had never seen such a pronounced difference in weather before.

For many more long moments both he and Asta watched the display as the heart of the storm slowly tracked westward. Corduroy gave a snort and pulled against the lead tied off to Asta’s saddle. Asta nudged her horse, and reached down to take up the lead, drawing Corduroy close as she told him what a fine horse he was. He settled a bit then dropped a pile of dung on the road.

After a while Asta said, “We should keep moving. If we’re lucky the storm will stay ahead of us. I hope we can reach Drok before nightfall, it was really cold last night.”

Loden gave a nod, even though the storm still held his attention. She was not wrong, despite the early autumn having been fairly pleasant so far, the higher they climbed, the colder the nights became. When they had been in Noosk, the locals had told them that there were very few communities on the plateau and that they should not expect much in the way of accommodations. “Sure, let’s keep it slow, the horses don’t like the storm.”

She nodded, then put her heals to Jester’s flanks and trotted off ahead of him. He gazed westward a while longer, the lightning was less frequent now. “Come on CoalPile, let’s see if we can find you a barn to shelter in for the night.”

The day passed without incident, by mid afternoon the storm had moved off to the west and the heat settled. They shed their coats, securing them across their saddlebags and kept their eyes open for any sign of Drok. Despite the appearance of the land, it was not really flat, they had crossed a number of simple stone bridges spanning narrow gullies, there were some places where the soil had been shifted and piled by wind or water. There were also long stretches of exposed rock, often with green and red moss growing along the edges.

A long while later they came to a wider gully, here, instead of a stone slab being used to span the gap, cut stone had been stacked to block the entire ravine, creating a dam. On the northward side of the blockage a murky looking pool had collected and there were a great number of goats, many dozen, perhaps a hundred or so. There was also a dark haired shepherdess, she looked up at them from halfway down the gully.

Loden waved and waited until he had crossed the span before he stopped, in that time she had climbed up to the top. “Hello.”

“And you, sir.”

“Is this the road to Drok?”

“It is. You’ll see it in another yat, or at least the watch tower. Drok is just under the tower in a protected ravine.”

“Will we see you there tonight?”

“No, sir. I’ll be staying out here with the goats.”

“Thanks then.”

She waved, “Safe travels.”

Not long after they left the goat herder behind they spotted the watch tower. The land ahead was a few paces lower than what they had been travelling on for most of the day, there was lots of grass and a few gnarly trees. The tower rose about ten paces above the land and was nearly as broad at its base. Loden picked up the pace, he wanted to reach Drok before the twilight came.

Asta stopped briefly and put her robes on over the Eldra clothing she typically wore. She caught up to him just as he reached the tower. There was a man on the top looking down at them, “Welcome to Drok.”

“Thank you.” Loden observed that the tower was on the near side of a fairly deep gully that dropped between two natural stone walls. While there were a few stone structures towards the bottom of the ravine, most of the town looked like in had been carved into the stone. Along the bottom of the town there was an aqueduct system that collected water in a large natural stone cistern. There were also a lot of goats, more numerous than the humans, the place had the smell of them and dung as well.

He glanced over at Asta, “Nice place.”

“Interesting.”

They dismounted and proceeded down along a well worn trail, just wide enough for the horses. Their presence had attracted a fair amount of attention and by the time they reached the floor of the ravine a couple hundred people had gathered. “I guess they don’t get many travellers out this way. Can’t imagine why.”

Asta advised him in a low voice, “Behave, Loden. There are many who have less than these folk. I’ll be plenty happy to have a roof over my head this evening.”

Aside from those who had come down to greet them, there were others spread out along either side of the gully, they were gathered in twos and threes, standing near the doors of their dwellings. Not much of a town really, but Loden was honestly surprised that anyone would live out here.

These folks were dark haired with dark eyes, likely a blend of Loopee and Pwhanna. They wore beautifully woven clothing, he assumed made from goat hair, with bright patterns. A few of them also wore hide vests, leather boots or hats. He saw they adorned themselves with bone and copper. What iron there was, likely imported, seemed reserved for weapons, of which he only saw a few.

The women seemed very happy to see Asta, no small number calling out praises to the Goddess of Mercy. After the two of them had dismounted, Asta was quickly surrounded by the women of the town and taken down towards the cistern, the young ones followed.

Loden was left with between thirty to forty men gathered around him. Many were admiring the horses, three older guys approached him, raising their hands and proclaiming, “Peace be with you.”

Loden touched palms with each of the old men, “Peace be with all of you. Is there a place where I can put the horses for the night?”

He was taken to the tower end of the town, the ravine continued on past the point of the tower but became very narrow. There was a large opening to one side, there were animals that were not goats; a few small horses, chickens, a scrawny looking cow and a handful of friendly dogs who seemed to keep the other animals contained in the shallow cave.

After he saw to the horses he rejoined the men who had come this way with him, “What now? Cards? Dice? Blades? Drinking? I’ve a couple bottles of good wine.”

They moved to the other side of the ravine, half a dozen paces from where the animals were kept, most of the men sat down on stones. Many produced small bone cups, bond or inlaid with copper, a few produced bladders and poured drinks for the rest of them. Loden took a seat on one of the stones, someone passed him a cup with a strange milky liquid. After a tentative sniff he looked to the others and noted they had not taken a drink yet. He waited until everyone had settled and been served. The three older men who had greeted him had remained standing.

Once everyone had a drink in hand, one of the old ones raised his cup, “For the gods above.” He dumped the liquid on the ground. Everyone else chorused, “The gods above.”

The second old man raised his cup, “For our ancestors, who show us the way.” He also dumped the contents of his cup while everyone chorused, “Our ancestors.”

The third man filled the cups of the first two and then raised his cup and said, “To travellers from distant lands, let us share the drink of the people and hear what is happening from beyond.”

This time everyone drank, Loden was quick to down the contents of the cup, they all chorused, “To new friends.”

Loden found the drink to be somewhat wretched tasting, but he forced himself not to make a face and held his cup out when more was offered. He then raised his drink, “To gracious hosts, ah, may your goats be as fertile as your women.”

Everyone drank, a few of them chuckled and another round was poured. Round balls of dried grass and dung were put into a large stone bowl, twilight came to the ravine while the sky above remained bright, the burning dung produced a bright flame and surprisingly little smoke. The old men found seats and everyone fell quiet waiting for Loden to speak.

He told them a bit about himself and what was happening in the west with the Tannicans. He talked about his visit to GreensBridge and how everyone expected the Tannicans to be there by next spring. When he had finished his story he pulled out the bottles of wine he had and poured drinks for the group of them. They drank, many of the men screwed up their faces or puckered their lips, even Loden had to admit that the wine did not compliment the local beverage very well.

More bladders of fermented goats milk were produced and the drinking continued. A man in his middle years stood and related some of the recent local events. Loden was dismayed to learn that Tannican slavers had been here less than a fortnight ago. There had been a fight, up on the plateau and the people of Drok had been defeated. The Tannicans had then looted the town and made off with most of the younger women.

Loden expressed his sympathies, more dung balls were placed on the fire and more drinking took place. Songs were sang and the mood did not turn melancholy, despite the recent events. When Asta and a number of the women joined them, with pots of a thick goat stew, there was another round of drinks and everyone ate. Afterwards, the two of them were shown to a nearby house, carved into the wall of the ravine. They were left with a small oil lamp that provided a dim light.

There were stone beds, piled with goat hides. Asta said little, saddened by the tragedy these people had endured. Loden faded into a deep sleep, despite the queasy feeling in his guts.

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