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Seemingly oblivious to his audience, the big man wiped sweat from his brow with his arm, then walked over to what appeared to be a pile of small trees. He dragged one from the pile, took hold of a giant twin-bladed axe and proceeded to top and tail it, making it the same length as the rest of the logs.
Patrick and Torrick glanced at each other. “You can go and talk to him,” the latter told Tor. “The rest of us will wait here.” He didn’t add ‘at a safe distance’; he didn’t need to.
Tor urged his horse to move forward and the reluctant animal did as requested, coming to a stop just before the pile of trees.
“Hello Ban,” Tor said, waiting until the axe had completed its downward trajectory and was wedged in the wood.
“I wondered how long you would be waiting over there,” the tayman replied without looking up. He raised the axe once more, bringing it down on the same spot, beheading the tree.
He then stood up straight and looked at Tor. “You look tired,” he finally said.
“We have come a long way,” the Prince explained. “To see you,” he added, just in case Ban thought they were just passing by and happened to see him.
“I figured as much.” Ban placed the axe onto the ground and approached Tor, who dismounted. The two men hugged like the old friends they were.
“You seem busy,” Tor observed, pointing toward the logs the bigger man had been tying together. “Should we come back later?”
Ban shook his head. “It is about time I took a break anyway. I am building a house for a couple in the village who just got married. Since moving here, I have built most of the new buildings. I get it done faster than most.”
“I cannot imagine why.” Tor could not keep the smirk from his face.
Ban led him to a clearing nearby, next to a stream, indicating that the others should follow. They remained where they were until Tor called them over. Few of them had met a tayman before and those that had had never spoken to one. Except for Patrick and he tended to avoid them ever since a female had taken a shine to him and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. It was the only time in his memory that he had been in a position to bed a beautiful woman without doing so.
While Seth and Torrick unhitched the donkey from the wagon, the others set about filling water containers and setting out food. Tor made the introductions and, while Ban appeared to be friendly, they all tried to keep their distance, without looking like that was what they were doing. Even Ellen made sure Patrick was sitting between her and Ban.
Tor briefly explained how he and the tayman had met, a tale none of those present had heard before. Ban had saved Tor’s life when he had been caught in a rock fall. Without knowing who he was, the tayman had risked his own life to dig the Prince out. They had been firm friends ever since. They rarely had the opportunity to meet, but kept in regular contact by letter and were always ready to help each other, should the need arise.
“Which is why we are here,” Tor said. Between them the group told Ban all about the quest. They were surprised that he had not heard about it and providing him with the details made them start to feel more comfortable around him.
They spoke of how each had joined Tor’s team, and the reasons why, and how they had obtained the second clue. Ellen managed to quote it word perfect and then looked at Ban expectantly.
“And what exactly has this to do with me?” he finally asked.
Ellen was unsure what to say. She thought it was obvious.
“It says search high and low,” Tor explained. “We are taking that to mean we need a dwarf and someone tall. Like a giant or a tayman. I immediately thought of you.”
Ban rubbed the bristles on his chin, thinking over what Tor had said. “That is one mighty leap in logic you have made. That sentence could mean something completely different.”
“We know,” Tor replied. “And if you have any better ideas, we would love to hear them.”
“I do not,” the big man admitted. “And while you know I would happily do anything I could to help you, Tor, I have a job to do here. I cannot leave the young couple homeless while I travel with you for who knows how long.”
“How long will it take you to finish the house?” Seth asked.
“Three days, maybe four.”
Tor winced. He had not anticipated having such a delay. While he had been the first one to find the ‘seekers of truth’, that did not mean he had the luxury of sitting around for nearly a week.
“What if you had some help?” Seth continued.
Ban looked at him thoughtfully, then at those sitting nearby. None of them looked like they would have any knowledge in regard to house building, but then again, looks could be deceiving and, if told what to do, they could probably do an adequate job. “Probably a day or two,” he calculated.
Seth glanced at Tor, who nodded. While he did not want to stay for long, he was prepared to wait for a short while if it meant that Ban could join them.
“Put us to work,” he advised Ban. “You are completely in charge and we will all do everything you tell us.”
“You must be joking,” Patrick spluttered. “These hands will be ruined.” He held out his hands to everyone, demonstrating the soft skin and perfectly manicured nails.
“In that case I have the ideal job for you.” Ban beamed at him. “Some of the women are sewing bedding and curtains. I am sure they would welcome your assistance.”
Patrick did not see the funny side. “I am going to get changed,” he said in a sulky voice. “If you expect me to do hard labour, I will not be doing it in silk.”
Peals of laughter followed him as he stomped over to the wagon and searched through his bag for less delicate garments.
Ban put everyone to work, assigning tasks that each would be capable of performing. Torrick, Patrick and Tor were sent out into the forest to fell more trees of suitable size and drag them back to where the cottage was being built. Jem and William were provided with axes, much smaller than the one Ban was using, in order to chop the trees to the correct length and remove any protruding branches. Between them Modo and Hurst managed to clear away the excess wood which had been chopped off and stack it in an out of the way location to be used as firewood later on. Despite his blindness, Hurst proved, once again, how useful he could be.
Nosmas, Vicky, Bellak and Ellen put their skills to good use and combined spells to lift the logs into place, allowing Ria and Seth to tie them securely.
Liselle and Marie busied themselves providing food to the ever hungry workers and ensuring they drank plenty of water, while Ban himself seemed to be everywhere, supervising and helping out wherever he was needed.
Everyone worked hard and by the time the sun began to set they were ready to drop. Ban assured them that no guard would be needed and they all went to sleep early that night. Despite wanting to stay up talking with Ban, who opted to sleep outdoors with them instead of retreating to his own home, exhaustion took its toll and nobody could keep their eyes open.
Work began early the following morning, with groans being heard throughout the campsite when Ban roused everyone at dawn. There was the expected grumbling, but nobody actually complained and they all enthusiastically set to work once more. They were eager to be on their way and the house needed to be finished first, but they were also proud of what they were accomplishing. None of them had ever contributed toward building a house before and even Liselle and Marie found a great deal of satisfaction in the group’s accomplishments.
By the time the sun set, the house was almost finished. They took a quick vote and none of them opted to stop for the night; instead they all pushed on for a few more hours, with the magic users providing light.
When they eventually finished they were tired and hungry, but as they stood admiring their work, they were filled with a sense of achievement. While the house was far from ready for the couple to move in, they had accomplished all that Ban had been planning on doing. Others from the village would use their own expertise to create the furniture, make the kitchen useable and do all of the other little things that would make the house a home.
“Well done everyone,” Tor said. “Never before have such a diverse group of people worked together to accomplish something so useful. Especially in such a short time span.”
“Thank you all for your help,” Ban told them. He had not been expecting so much to be accomplished so quickly, and with no petty arguments. Even if Tor had not been among them, he would happily do anything within his power to help any one of them. If nothing else, the quest had cemented some good friendships.
“We leave at first light,” Tor announce, causing groans from all around. While they were eager to be on the move once more, they had been hoping for a lazy morning in which to recover from their physical labours.
The next morning, however, their departure was delayed by visitors. The couple for whom the house had been built had decided to take an early morning stroll to view the progress and were amazed to see the completed structure. They could not thank all of the volunteers enough and the bride insisted that they visit her father’s store before they leave.
Being a small village, the store was not large and did not have many of the provisions the group needed to restock, but it did have some items that were needed and Tor gratefully picked what was wanted, without leaving the shelves too bare.
The shopkeeper, once his daughter had explained that Tor had helped to build her house, initially refused to accept any payment and did not back down until Tor told him he would take it as an insult if he could not do a good deed for a fellow human being without being forced to accept something in return.
It did not take Ban long to pack his things for the journey and he advised them to initially head west. The nearest town lay in that direction and the supplies they needed should be readily available there.
They reached the town of Xeno well before nightfall and Tor opted to spend the night undercover instead of camping on the outskirts until the morning. Though it was smaller than he had been expecting, it was significantly larger than Ban’s village and he hoped it would contain enough inns to accommodate the ever growing group.
Due to the proximity to his home, Ban had visited the town on many occasions, but had never stayed for the night, so he could not advise on which were the better inns. The first one they came across looked in reasonable condition, so Tor and Ban went in while the rest waited outside.
The room they entered was bright and cheerful. The wooden tables were clean, it was busy without being overcrowded and the serving girls were smiling while dealing with their customers. Tor’s first impressions were good.
The man behind the bar, who confirmed he was the innkeeper when Tor enquired, was a fat man with neatly trimmed hair and tight fitting clothes. He welcomed the Prince in a jovial manner and, when asked about accommodation, said he had a number of available rooms.
They were in the process of discussing how many people there was room for and what the cost would be when the man’s face darkened.
“We do not have room for his sort,” he said in a gruff voice. Tor looked around and found that the man was looking directly at Ban.
Tor opened his mouth to protest, but Ban stopped him. “I completely understand,” he told the man, not the least bit put out by the comment. He could see that Tor was angry about what the innkeeper had said, so he explained. “Due to our size, not many inns have beds large enough to accommodate taymen.”
While what Ban said made sense, Tor was still not happy about the way the innkeeper had spoken, but, seeing that Ban had not taken offence, decided to not pursue the matter.
“I will try the other inns,” Ban volunteered. “Meet you back here?”
Tor nodded and once his friend had left he returned to his negotiations. The inn could accommodate half of this team, plus the horses, and the innkeeper suggested another inn, located nearby, that might have enough rooms for the rest.
Tor gave instructions on who should remain, handing over keys to the rooms and agreeing to meet on the outskirts of the town at sunrise. He then gave sufficient money to Seth and Ellen to purchase what was needed and started to move off down the road, toward the second inn.
He was halted by a cry from within the inn. “Get out,” he heard the innkeeper calling out. “Creatures like you are not allowed in my establishment.”
“I will pretend that I did not hear that,” Patrick’s voice rang out. It was cold and hard. Tor knew there was going to be trouble and ran back inside.
“What is going on here?” he demanded.
“This person,” Patrick sneered, “is refusing to allow Modo to go to his room.”
“My inn is for humans,” the innkeeper stated. “Not animals.”
Tor had to grab Patrick’s arm before his fist connected with the man’s face.
“Go outside,” he hissed in his ear. “I will deal with this.” He glanced around the room. The other patrons were staring at them, and not all of them looked friendly. “You had better take Modo with you,” he added.
He then turned to address the innkeeper. “Modo is a member of my company and a friend. You will treat him with respect.”
The man, red in the face from the exertion of raising his voice, curled back his lip.
“Who do you think you are, ordering me about in my own establishment? Vexen are not welcome here and nor are you. Get out and take all of your vexen-loving friends with you.”
“I have paid you for use of your rooms and I am entitled to claim what I have paid for,” Tor told him, sounding much calmer than he felt.
“Here is your damn money,” the man yelled, spittle coming out of the corner of his mouth as he spoke. He threw the bag of coins which Tor had given him at the Prince’s feet.
As he bent down to pick it up, a man sidled up to Tor. “I suggest you do as he says,” he said quietly. “This town is not known for its tolerance of other species. Nor strangers,” he added.
Tor looked at the man. He was dressed in a uniform so Tor assumed him to be a soldier. However, his manner suggested that he was offering advice rather than issuing a demand.
Tor nodded his thanks, then walked toward the exit. He paused before crossing the threshold and turned to say one final thing to the landlord.
“I forgot to answer your question. You wanted to know who I think I am.” He smiled coldly. “I am Prince Tor of Remeny.”
“Of course you are,” the innkeeper jeered, making some of the on-lookers snigger nervously. He did not notice that Tor was holding out his hand to the soldier, clearly displaying his royal ring.
The young man gulped then looked over at the fat man. “It looks real to me.”
The colour drained from the innkeeper’s face as he realised that, not only had he insulted a visiting royal Prince, but he had also kicked him out of his inn.
“M...mm...my apologies,” he stuttered. “You are more than welcome to stay here and your patronage will be gratefully accepted. That goes for all of your friends as well, of course.” He looked around him. “Mildred,” he called out, making one of the serving girls who was watching the confrontation jump in surprise. “Go and make sure all of the rooms are clean and see if there is anything we can do to accommodate a tayman.” The last word seemed to stick in the man’s throat.
“Do not bother,” Tor advised. “I would not stay here if it was the only building in the entire country that still had a roof.”
The innkeeper stared at him, open mouthed, as he stormed out of the room.
“I take it we are going to find somewhere else to stay,” Patrick observed, grinning widely.
“There is no need to put yourselves out for me,” Modo protested. While such treatment of non-humans was not common, he had experienced it before and each time he had just moved on to another establishment where the owner was not so bigoted.
“This is not about you,” Patrick informed him. “Tor is a very simple person. He believes that all races should be treated equally and does not have time for anyone who believes differently. Now that he knows that man’s views, he will not set foot in his inn. And nor will any of the rest of us.”
“I could not have said it better myself,” Tor agreed. “Once we have all found somewhere else to stay, we should purchase our supplies. I want to spend as little time in this town as possible.”
The young soldier ran out of the inn, chasing them down the road.
“Wait up, your Highness,” he called out. Tor grimaced. Revealing who he was had been necessary, but he did not want it being broadcast down the streets.
He asked his horse to halt and waited for the young man to catch up. He bowed low, much to Tor’s annoyance, and refused to straighten up until Tor had given his permission.
“May I make a suggestion your Highness?” he asked once he was standing upright once more.
“On the condition you stop calling me that. My name is Tor.”
The young man did not know how to react and looked around for guidance. Ellen nodded at him, so he did as he was asked.
“Fat Bill is not the only man in this town who believes that humans are the superior race and all others should be treated as vermin. Unless you announce who you are before revealing that you are travelling with a vexen and a tayman, you will not find it easy to hire rooms at any of the inns.”
He nervously glanced around, hoping that he had not inadvertently offended anyone.
Ellen smiled at him encouragingly. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“My parents run a farm nearby. Most of my brothers and sisters have left home and the farmhands all live in the town so there are a number of spare bedrooms. I am sure they would be more than happy to put you up, though some may have to stay in a barn.”
“That will not be a problem,” Tor assured him. “Lead the way. Shopping can wait until tomorrow.”
Before they could leave, however, Seth reminded him that Ban was somewhere in the town so searchers were sent out, returning a short while later with the tayman in tow.
“Change of plan” Patrick informed him. “We are off to see a farm.”
Ban didn’t ask why, for which Tor was grateful. While the innkeeper may have turned him away because they did not have a bed large enough, as Ban believed, Tor thought it had more to do with his species than his height and did not want to be the one to tell him.
It did not take long for the soldier, who introduced himself as John, to escort them to the farm, the size of which impressed them all. The wagon was placed in an empty barn and the horses released into a field, through which a stream of cool fresh water ran.
The farmhouse was a surprisingly large building. Despite the fact that John had told them there would be a number of spare bedrooms, nobody had been expecting to see a mansion.
It seemed to be in a good state of repair and there was not even a creak of the door as John opened it and walked inside.
There was a plump woman removing a tray of loaves from the oven and he wisely waited until she had placed it on the table before calling out to her. “Hello mum.”
Having not heard him come in, the unexpected voice made her jump and she let out a little screech.
She turned around, a huge smile spreading up toward her rosy cheeks, and walked up to her son. “You horrible boy,” she told him, swatting him with the cloth she was holding before giving him an affectionate hug. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop scaring me like that?”
He grinned at her. “It is hardly my fault you are going deaf.”
She swatted him again. “Do not be so cheeky. I am not going deaf.”
John then turned serious and quickly summarised what had happened at the inn.
“That is appalling,” she said. He assumed she was talking about the treatment Modo had received, until she continued on. “We have visitors and you leave them standing outside. You almost make me ashamed to call you my son.”
Nudging him aside with her wide hips, she threw her cloth onto the table and ran out into the courtyard, stopping up short when she saw the large crowd.
“I guess I forgot to mention how many there were,” John said quietly as he walked up beside her.
“Never mind,” she replied, quickly wiping her hands on her apron.
“This is Tor, leader of the group,” John said, deliberately dropping his title. Tor requesting that he stop calling him a Prince was only part of the reason. He was already in the proverbial doghouse for leaving the visitors standing outside; if he mentioned that one of them was royalty he knew he would literally be sleeping in it for the rest of the week.
“Call me Kulley,” John’s mother informed him as he shook her hand. “My son tells me you need somewhere to stay for the night. You are all more than welcome, though I am not sure where we are going to fit you all.”
“We are used to sleeping rough and would be more than happy with a barn, if you have a spare one.”
Kulley snorted indignantly. “I should think not. No guest of my son will sleep in a draughty old barn. We will make space somehow.”
Kulley was introduced to everyone else then she ushered them into the house. Modo had kissed the back of her hand, making her blush and giggle like a schoolgirl.
John set about making tea for them while his mother explained that her husband was somewhere in the farm, though she had no idea where and Jalique, the only daughter to still be living at home, was in the hen house collecting eggs.
No sooner had she finished saying this than the door opened and a young woman walked in, carrying a basket filled to the brim with light brown eggs. She almost dropped it in surprise when she saw the visitors.
She was no longer a girl, but not quite a woman. Her long brown hair was hanging loosely about her shoulders and her blue-grey eyes searched out her mother’s, asking for an explanation.
Introductions were quickly made and, seeing the look the girl was giving Patrick, Tor took him aside for a quiet word.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” he hissed into his friend’s ear. “We are guests here and you will not embarrass me by abusing these good people’s hospitality.”
Patrick had the audacity to laugh. “Do not worry,” he said, gripping Tor’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “She is a little young for me.” Tor grunted, unsure whether to believe him or not.
Their conversation was interrupted by John announcing that tea was ready.
While the men talked and relaxed around the kitchen table, Kulley took the ladies outside to the washhouse. Inside the building they found a number of large tin baths and a pump for extracting water from the underground stream beneath.
“The water is cold I am afraid,” Kulley said apologetically, but Ellen waved away her concerns.
“I can take care of that,” she assured her. The farmer’s wife pointed out a shelf where cleaning cloths and soaps could be found, then left them in peace to take care of their ablutions.
She returned to the kitchen to find her daughter flirting with Patrick, who was doing his best to ignore her, and sent her out of the room to prepare beds for as many of the visitors as they could easily accommodate.
John was sent to one of the barns for sleeping pallets. During the harvesting season a number of the farmworkers opted to sleep at the farm instead of returning to their own homes, so there was enough bedding and pallets for those they did not have rooms for.
Tor argued that they be set up in an empty barn, but Kulley would not hear of it and instructed John to place as many as were needed in the front room of the house.
When the ladies returned, smelling fresh and looking neat and tidy in clean clothes, they were immediately put to work preparing food for the evening meal.
Kulley, with the occasional help from her daughter, often cooked for all of the farm workers, especially in the planting and harvesting seasons, so her pantry was well stocked and there were enough pots, pans, knives and stirring spoons to equip any kitchen in a small castle.
Some of the men were sent outside to chop firewood while others were directed to the hen house, to kill a few chickens, and to one of the pastures for a sheep.
Jem volunteered to assist the women, carrying buckets of water and performing any other heavy lifting that was required, while Hurst was given the task of slicing loaves of bread. Despite his blindness, Hurst had lived on his own for a long time so had no difficulty with such chores.
Once the hard work had been completed, at Kulley’s insistence the men made use of the wash house, returning to the kitchen smelling a lot better than when they had left.
The dining room was large and the huge table it contained could easily accommodate them all. Cutlery was laid out and plates distributed and by the time the food was ready the only thing missing was the farmer.
Almost as if the smell of the cooked food being placed into serving pots had attracted him, the man himself made an appearance as everything was in the process of being carried through to the dining room.
Before anyone had chance to explain who they all were or why they were there, he took one look at Ban and his face clouded over.
“This is my house and you are not welcome in it,” he said fiercely. “Get out now.”