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GINGHAM WAGONS WERE ready and the barrels loaded for his trip from Tellwater to the northern territories. It was a heavy load, more than thirty vats of wine and mead that the western region would enjoy soon, and that he and Lord Garion would make a fine profit from.
“Be careful, Gingham.” Felix, Lord Garion’s son, said as he reached out for a handshake. “I’m not one to believe rumors, but when you live in such a remote part of the country, often it’s all we have to go by.”
“You aren’t talking about the rumors of magic escaping the mountain again?” Gingham laughed.
“You can never be too certain,” Felix replied. “Traveling through these mountain ranges has always been dangerous and you have a heavy load. More than I’d try to carry with just three wagons. Not to mention the risk to your family.” He nodded to the woman sitting next to Gingham.
“I know the risk, sir,” Stella said. “And I’d gladly take it just to be by my husband’s side.”
“I’ve got six seasoned scouts and waggoneers riding with me, my oxen are strong. My wife is tenacious. I have no doubt we’ll make the trip just fine.”
“Oxen and men don’t stand a chance against sorcery,” Felix warned. “The highlands hold secrets far more powerful than you or I.”
“Mountains? Or are you referring to the Neverworld that raised such a fuss ten years ago?”
“Nine. And I beg to remind you that though the Neverworld was in a spirit realm, there were portals to it that ran under these mountains. They reeked of magic no man had ever seen the likes of.” Felix said. “No one knows if that magic is still there or not.”
“Ha! To hear you talk, you’d think you had visited the Neverworld yourself,” Gingham replied.
“Not I, but King Barin did, and I trust him as I would my own brother.”
To argue with Felix would be disrespectful. Still, believing in myths like an underground world where wizards not only practiced magic but created and stored it was against Gingham’s better judgment.
“People take those bards at the pubs too seriously. I can see that highway robbers might be something to look out for, possibly, but magic? I wouldn’t expect such gossip from anyone that wasn’t from Fairmistle, though.”
“You should at least take my father’s offer and let someone ride alongside your wagons,” Felix said.
“I have my men with me, and your father has grapes to tend to. I don’t need charity, Felix. We’ll be fine.”
Felix stepped back. “Safe travels to you. And to you, missus.”
Stella nodded a thank you.
“I’ll have your barrels and your money to you in two weeks’ time. No later than a month in case Stella wants to do some visiting. She hasn’t ever been to the sea.”
“There’s fabric in those port towns the like I’ve never laid eyes on, they tell me,” Stella added.
“I’m sure there is. Much of the wealth in those villages never make it as far east as Tellwater Valley. Enjoy, your travels, then. No rush with the barrels.”
Felix held his hand up as a farewell as Gingham slapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward. His other two wagons followed him down the shady trail along the river.
“You don’t believe that talk about magic, do you?” Stella hugged his arm.
“Fools talk, love. Never you fear. We’ll be just fine. I’ve been this way a good many times. I know this road by heart, could probably drive these wagons blindfolded.”
She laughed that pleasant laugh of hers that always made him feel at home no matter where they were.
“You might be able to travel blindfolded, but I’d wager your oxen want to see where they’re going.”
He grunted in agreement.
“You know what I’m saying.” He smiled at how exciting life was turning out to be for him. “Just think. Here we are with the open road ahead of us, security of wealth in our wagons, my wife by his side. How could a man ask for anything more? Since our family’s up and grown, maybe we ought to think about selling the farm and doing this full time, together. You know, as a family?”
“I’d like that, Gingham. I’d like that very much,” she said and took his hand.