It had been hard to leave the relative safety of the Günnary’s valley and head out, but it had been harder to part ways with Master Clarisse and Beezle. I did not tell them where I was headed, but a plan had begun to form in my mind, once I had agreed to take the Princess with me. I knew I had to stop thinking of her as the Princess, for treating her as a royal rather than a rover would expose us faster than anything else. I was, I had to chuckle, the head rover of our little homewagon and thus in charge. This ought to be interesting, was my thought squeezed in between feelings of sheer terror.
We had loaded up the wagons with supplies and the Princess. No, I had to think of her as Kiaya. At any rate, we loaded up her meager belongings, plus the knitting supplies, early in the morning. I rearranged the cart, putting Nana’s medicines and herbs to the very back, for when we got to the Lambkin fair I hoped we would have some finished knitted products to sell, which would occupy the space that Nana’s goods had. We stored Kiaya’s yarn and other supplies in several of the small cedar chests I had built to sell. Now they would have to serve for her materials. I had decided I would move my clothes and bedding to Da’s bed and give Kiaya mine, for as head of the homewagon that was fitting. It was hard to do, for I could no longer hold on to the hope that Da and I would be returning home to our cottage by the Rumblesea any time soon. I was glad no one had been in the homewagon with me this morning, for I had not wanted to have to explain the unexpected tears that came as I rearranged the homewagon to accommodate someone other than Da.
Master Clarisse and Beezle left first, traveling out of the valley the way we had come in and taking the road south that Shueller had. They would reach Springwell-over-Hill later this day and arrive at the fair as expected. Kiaya and I were going to continue south on the narrow lane that had originally brought us to the standing stones. First thing this morning, Torger had talked to me about alternate routes to Lambkin, and I had gotten out the map that Shueller had marked on. Torger added more lines and comments, giving me a number of alternative routes. He said some of his folk would be with me until I left their territory, but I would not see them. He suggested that the Princess remain in the homewagon when we were traveling, for after we left the Günnary territory, there would be no telling who might be watching.
So now we were on the road, Kiaya in the homewagon and Carz and I on the driver’s seat. I had told no one where we were heading, not even Beezle or Master Clarisse, only that we would meet up with them at the Lambkin fair and to hold a spot for us. Secrets are safer the fewer folk there are who know them. By the looks of the map, we were about a day out from Bransbury, where Farmer Josh’s friend Farmer Ned Fairwalker had his farm. It would not be uncommon for a rover family to take a week off from the fair route for any number of reasons. They might go to smaller markets where they always went at a particular time of year. They might have a particular job or request that would provide better barter or coin than they could make at a fair, or the one I was going to use, running low on wares to sell and needing uninterrupted time to make more. There was some truth in this, and more than that, it would give me time to try to teach the royal heir, who had grown up in a palace with servants and privilege, how to live and act like a rover.
I was not extremely worried about reaching Bransbury and Farmer Ned Fairwalker’s farm, and I hoped Farmer Josh’s friend was as content to sit on his porch and trade tales as Farmer Josh had been. If we could find a campsite on his land, but not in his direct view, if he were not the curious sort, if, if, if . . . Mine was not a great plan, but it was the best I had been able to come up with. My biggest concern was the last leg of the journey from Farmer Ned Fairwalker’s farm to Lambkin, where we would once again have to take more traveled lanes and go through a long patch of woods that normally I would have avoided. I had noticed on Da’s map, and in his notes, that there was some concern about the safety of that route. Of course the map was several years old, so who knew what the woods held this day. Perhaps nothing. Hopefully whatever had been the problem was now gone. One could wish.
We reached Bransbury by early evening, and the day had been uneventful. We saw very few folk on the road and no patrols or other obvious searchers for the Princess. We had stopped briefly for lunch, which was eaten cold in the homewagon. I felt bad for the Princess being cooped up in the homewagon on such a fair summer day, but she did not complain. She had already produced several hats and had the front and back of a sweater finished. Said she had actually enjoyed the time alone without interruption or duties, and once she had gotten used to the slight sway of the homewagon, had lost herself in the rhythm of her knitting.
Farmer Josh had drawn me a crude map of how to find Farmer Ned Fairwalker’s farm when he had suggested I stop there. After driving through Bransbury, I took the second lane to the left and then a right at the bottom of a small hill, which would lead me up to Farmer Ned Fairwalker’s farmhouse, I hoped. As I pulled the horses to a stop, three dogs came running out from behind the house barking and tumbling over each other in their rush to check us out. On closer inspection, it appeared they were puppies rather than small dogs. Following behind them, at a much slower pace, was a sprightly old man who was wiping his hands on an old cloth, calling to the pups with little effect.
“Come on now you three, come back here before those horses step on you.”
At that moment Carz leapt down from the homewagon and sounded a very soft growl. The pups stopped in their tracks, yelped, and raced to stand behind the man.
“Well, I’ll be. I guess I might have to get me one of those hunting cats just to keep these three rascals in line,” he said, with a definite twinkle in his eyes. “What can I do for you, young rover?”
“Are you Farmer Ned Fairwalker?”
“That I am.”
“Farmer Josh over by Treebles told me that if I were ever near Bransbury, I should look you up. Said you might be willing to let us camp on your farm.”
“Ol’ Farmer Josh, that old rascal. He still alive then?”
“Alive and well and with a sweet tooth for berry tarts that just won’t quit,” I responded.
“That would be ol’ Farmer Josh alright. You’d be welcome to camp here, but how come you aren’t at the Springwell-over-Hill fair? Most everyone from around here is going sometime this week.”
“Two reasons really. I’ve done well this summer, so well in fact that I’m running out of items to sell. That’s the good reason. The sad reason is my traveling companion is a very recent widow, and I just picked her up from her husband’s family. She needs some quiet time to settle in with me.”
“Fair enough. You’re welcome here. See that yonder glen just beyond the pasture land?” he asked, and I nodded. “There’s a good clear stream running there and plenty of downed wood for cook fires. Nice windbreak too, should it storm.”
“Sounds like that should suit. What do you need help with here?”
“Now don’t you worry about that this day. You go get yourselves settled in and set up and then check in with me early tomorrow morning. Need some help moving the piglets from their old pen to their new one and some are bound to escape. How are you at herding?”
“We’ll find out in the morning, now won’t we? I thank you for letting us stay here. We noticed a few patrols out. Seemed unusual. Any come your way?” I asked, thinking that while we had not seen any so far this day, I was really not lying to this man, just bending the truth a bit.
“Four of them stopped by here yesterday and asked if I’d seen any strangers. I hadn’t, so I told them no. Why don’t you introduce yourselves, so if they come tomorrow and ask if I’ve seen any strangers, I can tell them no again, since once introduced you won’t be strangers any longer, and I won’t have to lie to them.”
I did as he had requested, asking Kiaya to poke her head out of the homewagon and introduce herself, and I introduced Carz. Before we left, I asked if Carz could hunt his land for small game and did he have any trouble with large vermin. The small game was for our stew pot, the vermin were not. When I assured him that Carz would not hunt his farm animals, he gave permission, and so I turned the homewagon around and headed to the grove of trees he had pointed out. Farmer Ned Fairwalker was right about it being a nice campsite. When I pulled the homewagon to a stop in a nice sheltered area, I jumped down and let down the backstairs. I started unhitching the horses and realized that the Princess had not come out of the homewagon, so I went back to the back door, opened it, and called to her.
“You need to come out and help set up camp.”
“You want me to help?” she replied.
“Yup. Now would be a good time to learn the routines that go with living in a homewagon, so you look like you belong before we reach the next fair. All members of a rover homewagon pitch in with the routines and everyday chores. We need to unhitch the horses and get them settled, gather firewood, build a fire scar, haul water, fix a meal, and set up our areas of work. You just need a camp chair and your knitting materials, but I need a number of tools, some large and some small, and you can help me with that. Carz will probably find some nice rabbit or other game that he will be willing to share, and we will need to skin or pluck it to prepare it for cooking.” I think the Princess turned a little pale at that point.
The next couple of hours were interesting ones, for I do not think the Princess had ever had to do any type of chores in her life. It was a good thing no one was watching for anyone would have seen through Kiaya’s disguise. I had to show her how to unhitch the harnesses and stake out the horses. Thank goodness Flick and Clover were docile. Hauling water was pretty self-explanatory, so other than slopping half a bucket down herself, that chore went well. Gathering firewood was another matter entirely. First, the Princess came back with a very small handful of twigs. When I told her that that was nice for starting the fire and suggested she gather some wood that was bigger, she hauled back half a small tree. I knew then that putting a hatchet in her hands at that point might be a mistake, so I went into the woods with her to give some more guidance.
Once we had the fire started, the lessons on how to live off the land and find food began. While gathering firewood, I had spotted some wild tubers that would be tasty in a stew or soup, along with some mushrooms. Carz had come through with a rabbit. I noticed that Kiaya, as I had begun to think of her, did not watch the skinning process much past the first cut and looked distinctly pale for awhile. I did not have the heart to ask her to deal with the hide, so I took care of it myself. After dinner, I went about setting up a work area for the next day, and Kiaya sat in a camp chair near the fire and knit until the evening light was almost gone.
Going into the homewagon presented a problem at bedtime. I had thought about it long and hard during the course of the evening. Did I tell the royal heir about Neebings? I remembered Oscar’s kind concern when we had first camped together. He had discreetly asked me if I knew about Neebings and knew what to do. Some other kindly rover could bring Neebings up to Kiaya, and if she did not know what they were talking about, they might become suspicious. The widow story would only cover just so many lapses of knowledge. On the other hand, Neebing lore was just something that was not talked about to non-rovers. I decided that I needed to bring up the subject.
“Ah, you . . ., um, Kiaya, there’s a rover custom you need to know about,” I started.
“Does it involve lifting, hauling, eating strange food, large horses, or long wagon rides?” she inquired with tired humor.
“No,” I laughed, “none of those things. It does involve your promise on your honor not to bring the subject up with anyone who is not a rover.”
As I thought about what had just come out of my mouth, I was struck with how that possibly was not true, for the Huntress and the Günnary also seemed to know about Neebings, but that would only confuse the issue.
“This must be serious indeed if it involves an honor promise. It is the least I can do, since you are risking your life for me.”
I could have done without the risking your life comment, but Kiaya promised, and I proceeded to try to explain Neebings and gifting Neebings, all the while trying to sound convincing. I even let her pick out the gift to place in the Neebing room before we retired for the night.
The next morning was the stuff of song and tall tales. I could only hope I would someday have the opportunity to share the saga of the royal heir to the Crown’s first encounter with escaping piglets, but I think you really had to be there. Later, at the noontime meal, when we were safely back in our campsite, she asked why we were doing farm work, and I had to explain that helping Farmer Ned Fairwalker was payment for camping on his land. This question was the first of many that pointed out to me how far removed she was from the land and the folk she was to rule.
The afternoon went along peacefully enough with both of us working on our own projects. I tried to answer Kiaya’s questions as best I could and to continue to teach her what she might need to know to pass as a rover. As I stood up about mid-afternoon to stretch and try and get the kinks out from sitting over a carving for several hours, I remembered the Neebing room and went to check on it. The gift we had left the night before was still there. Evening was uneventful, and the next few days passed in relative peace. Each day we would spend a few hours helping Farmer Ned Fairwalker and then spend the rest of the day working to produce items to sell and doing the normal chores around the site.
The Princess, while inept at many of the common chores, adapted quite quickly. Her early sunburn began to turn to a light tan, and her hands had begun to toughen up. Her previously unmarred skin had picked up a few scratches that were a typical result of picking brambleberrys, hauling wood, and other tasks. I was glad we had these few days away from others to become comfortable with each other, and for Kiaya, as I had begun to think of her, to begin to look and act a bit like a rover. That peace did not last into the next day.
As we had each day, Kiaya and I got up with the rising of the sun and walked up to Farmer Ned’s barn. He had asked us to call him by his familiar name, for he said if we continued to refer to him as Farmer Fairwalker, he would get a sore neck from looking all around for his father, who had been gone these many years. I think mucking out the cow barn is a chore the Princess would not soon forget but probably would like to. Upon returning to our campsite, I had the occasion to thank Nana’s foresight in packing a kit of medicines and salves for everyday hurts. Kiaya’s hands had developed blisters, which I tended to and then wrapped so the salve would not get on her knitting.
We settled into working. The warm sun, the drone of insects, and the rhythm of the turning lathe had begun to lull me into a sense of peace when I noticed Carz had come out from the shade under the homewagon and was standing at alert. It was then that I heard the pounding of hooves coming up the farm lane.