Master Clarisse suggested we move the conversation into the homewagon. I could not tell much from her tone of voice. I just hoped I could get my feet to move, which at that moment were rooted to the ground. I do not know what was terrifying me more, the fact that this stranger standing before me knew who I really was and that Thorval was my Da, or that Master Clarisse and Beezle would learn that the Thorval just mentioned was the Thorval Pedersen wanted by the Regent, and I was his daughter. I had long worried that this very moment would come and questioned how my friends would react. An additional cause for the panic I was feeling was brought on by the fact that this could be a trap. How was I supposed to respond to either him or my friends? With a great deal of reluctance, I stepped forward and led the way into my homewagon.
Master Clarisse closed the door behind her, and Beezle slid around me to close the shutters and then the front door. No one moved to light a light. I was not all that sure about how wise it was to have moved into the homewagon with a stranger, and standing in the dark was not helping. I heard the rustle of cloth, and then a very small red light began to glow, and then move towards the table, stopping to rest there.
“This should give us enough light to see by, but not so much as to shine outside the homewagon. I can understand your need for discretion. No one knows that better than I, believe me. I am Elek, Lady Celik’s son, who is more commonly known in the Regent’s circles as Bertok, one of the Raven’s top men.”
I heard a very quiet intake of breath and realized that while I had been thinking about myself and how to handle the questions I knew were bound to come, I had completely forgotten the Princess. How could I be so self-centered, worrying about how others might react to me once they knew who I really was, when the Princess’ life and what happened in the next few minutes could change a great deal in Sommerhjem?
I ushered the Princess to the front steps of the homewagon and whispered to her, “Sit here and be ready to exit if you feel threatened in any way. Get to the Jalcones’ wagon and use the secret compartment to hide in. I know Mistress Jalcones showed it to you. You will be safe with them.”
I was glad that when we had first arrived at the Lambkin fair, all of us had had the foresight to sit down and make up contingency plans concerning the Princess’ safety. I now knew that both Master Clarisse’s wagon and the Jalcones’ wagon had hidden compartments. While they were never really designed to hide anyone, they could do so for a short and very uncomfortable time. I had hoped that we would not have to use any of the alternate plans, for it would mean I would probably be in a bad situation, but there I went again thinking about myself and not attending to the problem at hand.
Elek had continued to talk while I was getting the Princess settled, and I almost missed what he said next. “I can appreciate that you are somewhat skeptical about talking to me, but I hope by revealing who I am I might give you some measure of assurance that I come on an errand of utmost importance.”
“That only works if we know that you are either of the two folks you say you are,” Beezle commented dryly.
Elek turned to Nissa and said, “Arial, I know we have both grown and changed in appearance, but I would know you anywhere. You left a big impression on me when we were just youngsters. Do you remember when you were about eight or nine and you and your family stayed at Cliffmoor manor? Your Da was commissioned to design and make the very fancy ironwork for the main gates and for the stable doors. You made a pest of yourself, bugging the master carpenter who was working with your Da on the stable doors. Every time he turned around to pick up a scrap of wood to use for a wedge or to mark measurements on, it was gone because you had taken it to whittle. He never allowed anyone to be a pest or interfere with his work. He was a very strict and seemingly hard hearted man, but after awhile, he just started leaving small pieces of wood around, just so he could see what you would make from them. Even then you were carving whimsies. You gave me one all those years ago. I have always carried it as a good luck charm of sorts. Here, look,” he said, as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small carved wooden object, and held his hand in the light so I could see it.
Looking at the whimsy brought back a flood of memories, and I took a closer look at the man seated across from me. Slowly, a memory began to form of that summer when I had carved the whimsy, for it was indeed one of mine. Could this man sitting here really be that pudgy, almost grown lad who had been so kind to me all those years ago? I looked closely, and though this man was taller and broad shouldered, very muscular and older, I could still see the resemblance to the lad he once had been.
“I can accept that you are Elek,” I said, “and once you were very kind to me. How then did that lad I once knew briefly become one of the Raven’s men?”
“My mother became concerned about my welfare and continuing good health after the Regent began to gather power. She had obviously been a member of the Queen’s inner circle and held enough influence even after the Queen’s death that the Regent did not dare move directly against her. She was vulnerable through me, however, so she sent me to live with a distant cousin high in the far southern mountains. More of a fortress than a home. He and his guard the southern pass. I spent a number of years there training, and then mother sent for me. My transformation from pudgy lad to man surprised even my mother, who suggested that few would recognize me. I was set to the task of working my way into the Raven’s crew to better obtain information on what the Regent was up to. I posed as a disenfranchised youngest son of a minor noble and was accepted first into a group of other youth who were thinking that siding with the Regent might get them land and riches down the line. I then began to make myself useful to the Raven himself.”
By now all of us were caught up in Elek’s story and had almost forgotten to ask why he was here. Before I could ask, Elek went on.
“Over the last few months, I had made myself useful enough to the Raven that he was including me in his inner circle. That made Durward, one of his trusted guards, jealous, and I played upon that. In retrospect, that was a very dangerous game, but in the end, it worked out well. A rover named Shueller was captured and brought to Waldron Keep, the Raven’s stronghold. I wish I could have helped him sooner, but it would have given me away, and then I would have been his cell mate. Instead, I kept hinting to Durward that we should join forces; that the Raven was playing us against each other for his own amusement, so if we joined forces, we could take over his organization and his riches.
One night, the Raven called the two of us up to the top of the tower to join him in a meal. He was feeling expansive that night, and when he felt that way, he liked to be at the very top of his tower and survey the land around him. He liked to brag that all the land, as far as he could see, was his, and soon there would be more. He was standing by the edge when Durward suddenly started grappling with him. It was the Raven’s own ego that did him in. He was enormously vain and thought wearing a cape enhanced his image. I was sure that the Raven, who was so much more powerful and a much better fighter, thought he would prevail, and for awhile, it looked like that is what the outcome would be. The Raven just did not count on either Durward’s tenacity or luck. The Raven lifted Durward up to throw him off the tower, and just as he thrust Durward outward to his doom, Durward somehow twisted and grabbed the Raven’s cape, pulling the Raven over with him. I took advantage of the moment, rushed to the lower level of the tower, overcame the guards, and got Shueller out of there. We got away, but I am sure there is a now a price on my head. One or another of the Raven’s henchmen will surely step in and try to fill his boots. I am quite sure it did not go unnoticed that I departed at the same time that the Raven and Durward met their demises, and Shueller somehow escaped.”
“This is, of course, good news knowing the Raven is dead, and his organization is now less strong, but that still does not tell us why you have come looking for Nissa,” Master Clarisse stated.
“I need her help to get Shueller to the capitol.”
I was beginning to feel like a travel wagon for hire. First, the Princess ended up in my homewagon with a need to get to the capitol, and now Shueller. Before I could express my concern, Elek explained.
“Shueller did not give up any information while he was being held by the Raven, but he did acquire some, and he needs to get to the capitol. He is in no shape, however, to drive himself there, nor would he be safe on the open road. I am sure he is being sought, as am I. No, what he needs is a driver. One who would not attract too much attention, and Shueller thought you might be able to help, Nissa.”
“I can’t drive two homewagons at once, and while Shueller as a Günnary might stand out, for I haven’t heard of another rover shoemaker who is also a Günnary, his homewagon is more noticeable even than he is,” I responded.
“His homewagon has been repainted, and then aged so it does not look newly painted, so that should not be a problem. I appreciate that you cannot drive it yourself, but is there not some other rover who you trust who could be the driver? One that could pretend to be a shoemaker’s apprentice, or something like that. I am sorry, but I really am not all that familiar with rovers. I just know I cannot drive the homewagon or pretend to be a rover. Maybe she could,” Elek said, tipping his head in the Princess’s direction.
Oh, would that not be a grand plan, I thought to myself. Let us put the Princess, who is pretending to be a rover, in the driver seat of a homewagon, and by the way who knew if she could even drive one, and have her drive Shueller, who was probably being sought after by the Regent’s agents. Oh yea, that should work.
“Um, that would not work for Kiaya is, um, is . . .”
“A terrible driver. My late husband was the sort who always wanted to drive, and so I have very little experience with driving a rig as big as a homewagon. I also know very little about leatherwork. I am a knitter by trade,” said Kiaya simply, and to demonstrate, she picked up her knitting and began to swiftly add a row to the sweater back she had been working on.
With each passing day, I was becoming more and more impressed with the Princess. She was showing an amazing ability to think on her feet, or in this case, think on her seat. I was still not sure if I should trust Elek, but if he indeed was trying to help Shueller, I needed to consider it. Elek must have been reading my mind, considering what he said next.
“I know what I have told you sounds a bit far fetched, and you really have no reason to trust me. Arial, I am sorry, I should call you Nissa. Shueller expected as much and told me to tell you to trust the Neebings. I don’t know what that means,” Elek stated.
I did not know what that meant either. How does one go about trusting Neebings when you are not sure about them, and there certainly was not one sitting at the table with us. As I sat pondering this, Carz moved from where he had been lying at Kiaya’s feet and came to sit beside me. He placed a paw on my knee, and suddenly I felt that same sense of calmness and reassurance I had felt once before. I had a sense that everything was alright. Was Carz causing this feeling? The last time I had felt this sudden sense of calm flowing over me had been when I was tied up in the basement room in Tverdal, but Carz had not been there. I put my hand on Carz’ paw, felt something brush across it, and also felt a quick flash of heat from my ring. Was I just imagining this, or was this some kind of sign?
“Nissa, are you alright?” Master Clarisse asked, and there was a lot of concern in her voice.
I felt myself coming back from a great distance, and while I was confused as to what just happened, I also had a strong feeling that we should trust Elek. Was this just my imagination? Those thoughts had no sooner entered my mind when my ring hit me with another swift flash of heat. So, alright, not my imagination.
“I’m fine. Just deep in thought and trying to figure out what to do,” I said, trying to keep any more questions to a minimum. “I think Elek is who he says he is, and at this point, he has as much to lose as we do. If this is a trap, it is much too convoluted for me to figure out. What of the rest of you? Do we turn him in to the authorities, see what happens, and perhaps put Shueller’s life in peril . . .”
“Not to mention mine,” Elek stated wryly.
“. . . or do we trust what he has told us is the truth, and put our heads together and try to help? I do recognize him from when I was a wee lass. Not many would have known I was a small wood thief in my younger years. And here I thought I had fooled the carpenter back then. I would suggest you not tell that tale to too many others, Elek, for it would ruin his very stern reputation. I, for one, think we need to take Elek’s word that Shueller sent him and try to find a way to help. What do the rest of you think?”
“I think we are in a position not to have very much choice. Either we trust Elek, or we dispose of him, and I, for one, find choice number two not a very acceptable one without unshakable proof that Elek’s story is just that, a story,” commented Beezle with a shrug. “Violence is just not in my nature for the most part.”
“I think there are more than just those of us in the homewagon at risk here,” Master Clarisse pointed out, “and I think the rest in our party have a need and a right to be consulted before a decision is made.”
We all agreed. Elek did not seem anxious about being confronted by and outnumbered by even more folks, which went a long way towards settling my uneasiness about the whole situation. Beezle got up to see if the others had returned and, a short time later, reentered the homewagon.
“The rest have returned from the gathering, and Oscar and Bertram will be here shortly, as will Mistress Jalcones. We thought it safer if only one from each group came, since this homewagon was never built to hold a crowd,” said Beezle.
When all had arrived and settled as best they could, sitting on any available flat surface, Master Clarisse explained to them who Elek was, and what we had discussed. There was some discussion and debate as to whether it was safe to trust him or not, but in the end, the group chose the chance to help Shueller over their own safety. I noticed in Master Clarisse’s explanation that she did not mention that Elek had called me Arial, for which I was grateful. At the end of the discussion, Bertram suggested that his son Tannar be the one to go with Elek.
“He is of the age to be off on his own, and he has some skill with leather should anyone stop him and ask him to repair something. Oscar, would you go and fetch my son? He has the right to choose if he wants to do this.”
Oscar returned shortly with Tannar. He agreed to go with Elek, get Shueller’s homewagon and Shueller, and meet the rest of us where we had determined to go after the Lambkin fair. We did not indicate to Elek that we were not going on to the next fair, which I thought was wise. The less you know, the less you can tell others. I only hoped we had chosen rightly.