Before heading into the homewagon, I checked on the horses and packed my cook gear up. I wanted to be on the road as early as possible the next morning, so I shoveled in the cook fire, put the turf back, and packed it down. I pulled up the back steps of the homewagon, fastening them in place, closing the back door behind me. I then went directly to the front of the homewagon and cranked up the Neebing tube. I opened both doors, fully expecting to find nothing once again, and was just about to look when I heard a commotion outside the homewagon. Someone was pounding on the side of the homewagon and yelling.
“You, rover, show your face, we know you’re in there.”
I grabbed Carz by his neck ruff for he was crouched next to me, a deep growl coming from his throat. “Wait,” I said, giving him a reassuring stroke. “Wait.” I climbed the stairs to the front door and peered out. Two men in long dark cloaks were standing at the front of the homewagon. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before stepping out and asking, “Is there something I can help you with, good sirs?”
“What’s your name, rover?” the taller and older of the two asked.
“Who would be needing to know?” I inquired.
The older taller man, who seemed to be the spokesman of the pair, pointed to a crest on his cloak, which I had not noticed, and said, “We represent the Regent and by his authority I ask again, what is your name?”
“I am Anissa Anissasdatter, good sir,” I answered in as steady a voice as I could manage, amazed that I remembered my new name. “How may I help you?” I was hoping that the sides of the homewagon would hide my knees that surely were knocking together so loudly that even if they could not see them, they would hear them.
“Who do you travel with, rover?” the spokesman asked, saying the word “rover” as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.
“Only my cat, good sir,” I answered.
“Where are your parents?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“I don’t know. I am of age to begin on my own to make my way in the world,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster. “They take a different route.”
I am almost always truthful and what I told the Regent’s agent was the truth, in a sense. I truly did not know where my parents were. I hoped my mother had gone to a good place after death and was watching after me, and I really did not know where my Da was. I was of age to start out on my own as a rover, even if most rover children waited a bit longer before venturing forth, and despite having their own homewagon, more often than not traveled with their parents. Going off on my own was somewhat unusual, but I hoped the two men standing before me were not well-versed in rover culture.
“Have you seen any other rover homewagons in your travels?”
“No. I’ve been traveling the smaller lanes and byways,” I responded, hoping it sounded like I had been on the road for awhile rather than just a few days, “and I haven’t seen any other rover homewagons.”
“Have you picked up anybody and given them a lift along the way?” the Regent’s agent asked.
“No sir.”
I so much wanted to ask why they were asking all of these questions but thought better of it. It was the next question that took all of my concentration to maintain a calm exterior even though my insides turned to jelly.
“Do you know a rover named Thorval Pedersen?”
“I haven’t run into anyone of that name in my recent travels, but then I haven’t expected to run into many rovers this far north,” I answered as truthfully as I could.
At that answer, the two men, without even a “sorry to have bothered you,” turned and walked towards the tent nearest to me. I could hear them quizzing the couple, who sat in front of their tent beside the glowing embers of their fire. After the men left, I climbed back into the homewagon, closed the door, and abruptly sat down on the top step. Carz crept up the step and put his head in my lap. I could not pet him for quite some time for I could not get my hands to stop shaking. Those men had been looking for Da. The Regent’s agents were looking for Da. I could not help but think that this was not a good sign.
Now more than ever, I was convinced I wanted to be away from the village of Treebles early. I quickly checked to make sure that everything was stowed away and battened down for the ride the next day. It was then that I noticed the Neebing door was open. I bent down and looked inside fully expecting to find nothing when I thought I saw something in the shadows at the back of the little room. I quickly lit the smallest of the lanterns and brought it up to the doorway. There in the back of the room was a tiny, somewhat wilted, bouquet of wild flowers tied with pieces of dried grass woven into an intricate braid. Had the Neebings left this I wondered, or had Farmer Josh put it there, or one of the other campers? At this point, after the visit by the Regent’s agents, I was too concerned and scared for Da to worry much about Neebings. I did however place another small gift in what I now thought of as the Neebing room and lowered it down.
The sun had barely risen when I hitched up the horses and headed into the village to pick up my cart. I checked the contents of the cart again to make sure everything was secure and set off. The Neebing door had not revealed any surprises, and the rest of the day was uneventful. I met little traffic on the small back lane I traveled. The land became an unrelenting vista of small hills covered by grass with very little to break the monotony. Towards evening, the land took a greater dip down into a shallow valley crossed by a sluggish stream. I found a spot off the road that had been used as a campsite before and set up camp. Shortly after I had arrived, another wagon pulled in. It belonged to the couple who had camped near me at Treebles. They seemed weary, so I invited them to share my fire. My reasons were twofold. First and foremost, it was the rover’s way to share a fire with a fellow traveler. Second, I was still curious about the visit by the Regent’s agents and hoped I could bring the visit up in general conversation. Perhaps this couple had asked the questions I had been afraid to ask.
The couple introduced themselves as the Jalcones and told me they were traders. Traders differ from rovers in that they buy goods in one village, such as fine wool, and then sell it in another village where there are several good weavers. Then in turn, they buy fine woven cloth, or trade fine wool for fine woven cloth, and then sell that in another village. They had a route they traveled each year buying and selling as they went. This couple’s wagon was filled to overflowing with goods, and so like most traders, they set up a tent to sleep in each night.
The Jalcones were a couple in their middle years and very friendly. Trader Jalcones had a deep voice, a booming laugh, and was of stocky build. He was beginning to show a bald spot in the dark brown hair on the back of his head. Mistress Jalcones was softer spoken and seemed a jolly sort. She was just a tad shorter than her husband, rosy cheeked with just a touch of gray beginning to show in her bright red hair. If I were to share a campsite with anyone, this pair would be good company. After we shared a dinner and Mistress Jalcones fussed over Carz, which he unashamedly enjoyed, we settled back on traveling chairs with our feet up on the fire ring and relaxed, enjoying the dying fire. I was wondering how to bring up the Regent’s agents when Trader Jalcones started talking about their encounter with them.
“Don’t know what is happening in Sommerhjem,” he stated. “Seems every time you turn around there are the Regent’s folks lurking about. Never used to see them this far north, or in the small villages, but now they’re everywhere, and that’s not all. Used to be you just came into a town or village, did your trading, and moved on. Now you get stopped and have to get papers to set up in some towns. It’s worse the closer you get to the capitol. Have to sign in, tell who you are traveling with, what your business is, and some even ask how long you are going to stay. And the attitude of some of these so called ‘folks in charge’ is down right insulting. Treat you like you’re some kind of low class drifter instead of someone who is just trying to make an honest living. We’ve been on this route for years and have always been treated with respect, still are by the villagers and merchants we deal with, but these Regent’s folks act pretty high and mighty.”
Trader Jalcones paused to catch a breath and I tried to slip my question in real offhandedly. “What was all that fuss about last night?”
“Don’t know who this Thorval Pedersen is, but they’re mighty interested in finding him. Been asked several times about him by different Regent’s folks in a couple of different villages. Won’t say why they are looking for him, and I didn’t want to ask. These folks are not the kind you cozy up to and have a friendly chat with, I can tell you that. Sure wouldn’t like to be sought after by the likes of them.”
“Now dear,” Mistress Jalcones interrupted, “enough of this uncomfortable talk. Let’s change the subject. Is this your first year on the road on your own?”
“Yes ma’am,” I answered somewhat distractedly, still thinking over what her husband had just said. “I’m hoping to meet up with my relations farther south but wanted to try the smaller markets first. Sort of like a trial run before the bigger towns and midsummer fairs.”
“A very good idea. Just the way to get your feet wet without being very overwhelmed. Where are you headed next?” she asked.
“I thought I would head south on this road and see what the market might be like in Hexley,” I replied.
“Don’t know if you’ve heard, but a big fire swept that way last fall and near burnt out the village. One of those grass fires that occasionally sweep through the land hereabouts when it gets too dry. They must be thanking their lucky stars for the abundance of rain this spring, but it came too late last fall to help. Most folk are fine, got to the big lake near there in time, but they are just now rebuilding,” Trader Jalcones stated. “We’re going to head a bit more east. Know a glassmaker we want to trade with. Why don’t you travel with us? I saw some of those beautiful boxes you make. If you made some with an open top, the glassmaker might be interested. ’Tis the fancy of some of the wealthier ladies to store trinkets in fine glass-topped boxes. You might be able to expand your wares.”
His suggestion was a good one, and I was still not far enough from my home village to head too close to the coast. Besides, traveling with others added a measure of security and another layer to my disguise. I felt the Jalcones were good folk, and I needed to trust someone even if only for travel advice, so I agreed it was a good idea. Soon our conversation died like the fire we were sitting by, and we went to our separate quarters. It was the first really warm evening of the spring, which made me reluctant to head in, so Carz and I just sat on the driver’s bench looking at the night sky for a few minutes longer. With a soft sigh, I retired to the homewagon but left the upper half of the front door open to let in the cool night air. It would be a good sleeping night, if I were able to turn my mind off. What Trader Jalcones had talked about this evening had given me much to think about. Why was Da being sought by the Regent’s agents, and for what? This was my Da they were looking for. If I had not been worried enough when he had disappeared, I was now just plain scared for him. In a strange way, the Regent’s agents looking for Da was almost comforting, for maybe that meant he was still alive. With that thought, I began to drift off to sleep when suddenly I remembered the Neebings. This grassland did not look like the land Neebings were known to frequent. Tales suggested they preferred to live in woods and near water, but I was not taking any chances. I put a small bolt of tan cloth I had found in a small box above Da’s bed in the little room and cranked it down. While I did not suspect I was in Neebing territory, I did not want to displease them. They were said to be mischievous, especially when neglected, so I was not about to chance that.
It was nice not to travel alone. Trader Jalcones said if we traveled at an average pace, the village of the glassmaker was about a three day ride from where we were camped. They wanted to rest their horses for a long noon hour and then quit early each day. Said they had been traveling hard the last few weeks and wanted to give their horses a bit of a rest. That was not a bad plan and suited Flick and Clover. Their days of pulling a homewagon full days had been several years past and this would let them get in condition gradually. I had no idea how Da would find me, or if he had been found by the Regent’s agents, but I needed to establish an identity and a credible reputation if I were to be successful heading towards the capitol in hopes of connecting with my Da.
Each day we stopped and set up camp by mid-afternoon. I spent most of the hours of good light building inlaid boxes that had a lid that would accommodate a glass top. If the glassmaker did not like what I had made, I could later modify the lid using a wood top with some type of attractive design. It occurred to me as I worked that I was quite enjoying the rover life so far. I did not realize I had missed the travel, meeting new folk, and seeing new places before now. I am only sad that learning this had been forced upon me by less than desirable circumstances, but then maybe I would never have left my village had Da not disappeared. Sometimes good opportunities can arise out of misfortune.