The Jongurian Mission (9 page)

Seeing in this latest political development shadows of history, not all provinces were content to let this plot continue.
Montino remembered all to well the outcome of the previous Regidian court in power, and decided action was called for. A small army was formed with the support of Mercentia and Shefflin. The province of Duldovia also managed to raise troops and even convinced a sizable portion of the garrison from Fadurk to join them. This joint force moved south toward Baden, the capital city of Culdovia.

Having disbanded the royal army so as to lessen any chance of a military coup against themselves, the Regidians were caught off-guard.
They did all they could to swiftly raise an army from their loyal supporters and had it march toward Baden.

The conspiring provincial armies of Regidia, Equinia, Allidia, Hotham, and Oschem met the loyal armies of Mercentia, Montino, Shefflin, and Duldovia north of Baden, and battled each other for three days.
The conspirators were defeated, and the Regidian royal line came to a swift end when King Grandon Fray was captured. Many called for his death, but several of the nobles on the royal council still had some loyalty to their former leader. So instead of death he was exiled to Desolatia Island and would forevermore be called the ‘False King.’

Instead of putting the te
n-year old king back on the throne, it was agreed that a time of transition was required. The royal court would take over the task of governing, with all of the provinces having an equal say in matters. The five conspiring provinces were not allowed to join at first, but were assured if they swore their loyalty to a united Adjuria, they would soon be welcomed back.

A time of uneasy peace developed.
After a ten-year war with Jonguria, and a brief civil war amongst themselves, the country was ready to put down her arms and get back to the day-to-day process of living peacefully.

Bryn put down the book as he heard the door open, and saw Halam enter the room.

“Good, you’re up,” he said as he strode into the room, his arms full of papers, Rodden trailing behind, trying to catch those that flew loose from his uncle’s grasp. “We’ll be setting out soon, now. I’ve secured you a horse of your own from the province’s stock so we won’t have to share Juniper anymore, and I’ve got a clerk set to meet us at the gate with the supplies we’ll need to see us to Baden.” He set the papers down into a pile on a table against the wall, a good amount of them spilling to the floor. Rodden came up behind him, stooping down to grasp the papers and rising again to throw them on the table with the rest. While he began to put some order into them Halam turned to Bryn.

“Adjurian history, eh?” he asked, eyeing the book in Bryn’s hands.

“I figured you’d want me to wait when I woke up, and this looked like an interesting book,” Bryn said, a trace of guilt in his voice.

“Well, most would say that old politics
are best forgotten, but I suppose there might be something of interest there.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. “And whatever will keep you from getting lost in the streets is also fine by me.”

Halam seemed agitated and a bit on edge this morning, and Bryn felt that it was more than just the last minute arrangements of their departure which were causing him stress.
He didn’t want to say anything that might increase his ill-will this morning, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I think I can sort these and have them bundled while Bryn gets ready,” Rodden said as he began thumbing through the pages on the table, the pile now collected into a neat stack before him.
“I don’t think there’s anything too important in them, but it’d still be good to double-check them to ensure we haven’t missed anything.”

Halam grunted, and turned to Bryn.
“So are you packed and ready then?” he asked.

Bryn stood up and grabbed his bag, putting the book back in its place on the shelf.
“I’m ready, uncle Halam,” he said, determination on his face.

* * * * *

Halam, Bryn, and Rodden rode their horses toward the South Gate, which would lead them to the King’s Road and south toward Baden. Bryn’s new horse was a dapple-grey dun with a flowing mane and a tail of darker black. His name was Ash, and he seemed much larger to Bryn than Juniper had, but that could simply be because he was now riding alone. Rodden rode a red-brown gelding with a large white nose named Brick.

The streets were much more crowded this morning than they were last night.
People dashed and shuffled every which way with no apparent motive to their hustle. The city looked a lot different as well. The early morning sun cast a bright sheen onto the buildings, the stone, brick, and plaster reflecting back into his eyes. They made their way from the government district in the center of the city south toward the gate. The markets were much more crowded, and they had trouble getting their horses through the crowds. Men and women were yelling at the top of their voices, crying out goods and prices in all manner of accents and dialects.

“Get your Fallownian wool here, the finest wool from the south.
Allidian woodcarvings for sale, only top-quality workmanship. King-size mackerel today only, fresh from the Duldovian Sea only yesterday.”

There was so much noise that Bryn looked forward to getting back to the peace and quiet of the road.

Somehow they managed to wend there way through the crowds of the marketplace to approach the city walls.
They were larger this morning than Bryn had remembered them. Mighty rocks of all shapes and sizes were mortared together to form the wall, which towered over all the surrounding structures. Massive crenellations were spread out along the width of the wall, guards posted to look out into the surrounding countryside. Like the gate leading to the Tillata Road, the South Gate was also surrounded by a large square with many different stands set up, sellers yelling out their goods. It began to seem to Bryn that most of the goods were identical and wondered at the people scampering to buy them, having no use for any of them himself. Guards lined the gate on both sides, and like the gate the day before, this gate too had a mighty portcullis looming large overhead.

When they rode near the gate a young man came running up to them, a large sack in his arms, shouting to Halam.

“Ah Corrick, good to see you here on time,” Halam said to the man as he walked Juniper over to him.

“Yes sir, I’ve got the goods you wanted. These provisions should see you to Baden with some left over, I imagine,” he said as he handed the sack up to Halam.

“Aye, that’s good to hear,” Halam said as he got off Juniper, handing the reins to the man.
He opened the sack, revealing two loaves of black bread, a large wheel of cheese, several apples and pears, and a string of red sausages. He walked over to Rodden and opened one of the saddle packs strapped to Brick. He put the bread inside it, then came to Bryn and did the same with the cheese and sausage, before putting the fruit in his own packs and remounting Juniper.

“I thank you,
Corrick” Halam said as he wheeled the horse in the direction of the gate once again, “now we’ll be heading out.”

They steered their horses through the people flooding in from the countryside to sell their wares for the day, rode through the city gate, and were soon making their way down the King’s Road.

Leaving the great city of Plowdon was much the same as arriving. The road, which had become wider as they approached, now grew narrower as they departed. The hubbub of farmers and travelers on wagons and afoot lessened as they rode on. The hills rose and fell as they had on the approach, but after a while the ground began to level-out, and rolling fields dominated the landscape for all around.

“Well, Bryn, what do you think of the countryside of Tillatia?” Rodden asked as he rode up alongside him.
Bryn figured that he was dissatisfied with trying to get a pleasant word from Halam; whatever setback or rebuke he’d suffered in the morning was still troubling him.

“It all pretty much looks the same to me ever since we left the farm outside of Eston, sir,” Bryn replied.

Rodden laughed. “That it does. There really isn’t much to our province, now is there? Just a lot of fields, farms, and livestock. If it wasn’t for the Tillata River cutting the province in half, you wouldn’t know if you were in the north, south, east, or west.” He chuckled to himself, finding some amusement in his own words.

“I assure you, however, young Bryn,” Rodden continued, “the landscape will change much on our journey over the next few days.
Not much today, mind you, and probably not much tomorrow either, but soon we’ll reach the plains of northern Culdovia, part of the vast Klamath Plain. The Plain stretches from the Apsalar Ocean all the way on the far reaches of western Shefflin across the entirety of Adjuria to the Ipsalar Ocean off the eastern coast of Ithmia. It touches nine of Adjuria’s thirteen provinces, and covers some of them almost entirely.” He stopped to think for a moment, then gave Bryn an inquiring glance. “Tell me Bryn, do you know which?”

Bryn looked up at the sky, thinking.
He had read about the Klamath Plain, covering thousands of leagues of land, and had even seen a map or two in some of those books. He straightened his posture on Ash and looked Rodden in the face.

“Shefflin, Oschem, Allidia, Equinia, Montino, Mercentia, Culdovia, Duldovia, and Ithmia,” Bryn said,
putting up a finger for each name he recited. “And if I’m not mistaken, sir,” he continued, “I think some of southern Hotham is touched by the Klamath Plain as well, in the areas where the icy tundra of The Waste doesn’t go further south.”

“Very good!” Rodden
shouted, a smile large upon his face. “Really quite impressive. I think you do have me there on Hotham, now. Really, Halam,” Rodden shouted up to Bryn’s uncle, “this nephew of yours has quite the head on his shoulders.”

Halam gave a grunt from ahead of them, but other than that continued to ride on in silence.

“What’s the matter with Uncle Halam today?” Bryn asked Rodden.

The smile slowly faded from Rodden’s face and he looked ahead at Halam.
He reined Brick in closer, leaning in to talk to Bryn, his voice little more than a whisper.

“He learned today that Jossen Fray will be representing the Regidian interests at the council in Baden.”

“Who’s Jossen Fray?” Bryn asked.

“He is a noble in the ruling family of Regidia.
During the war with Jonguria he and your uncle were both stationed at Bindao, but Jossen was called back early to Adjuria. It was a rare thing, and we found out later it was because he had a direct part in the plans which would lead to the Civil War. They met again on the battlefield at Baden, and although I’m not really sure what occurred between the two men there, Halam has hated him ever since.”

“If he had a part in bringing about the civil war, then why wasn’t he tried and sent off to Desolatia like the False King?”

“Well,” Rodden said, “a lot of things were hard to prove, especially those things behind the scenes in Regidia. It was easy to send Grandon Fray into exile since he was the head of the Regidian royal family; it wasn’t so easy to send all the others involved.”

They rode on in silence for a while, both thinking of times and peoples past.
After a time Rodden spoke up.

“This talk of war
’s made me forget about the geography,” he said. “I think I had just mentioned that the Klamath Plain would come across our path in a day or so, and when that happens, we’ll know that we’ve entered Culdovia. Shortly thereafter, we’ll see the Montino Mountains to our west, but they’re a shadow of their majestic glory. To really get a sense of how mighty and imposing those mountains are, and why the Montinos are able to stay in them and thus out of politics, you have to travel further west. They rise like daggers from the valley floors, straight up into the heavens. You know, Bryn, they stay snow-covered all year long.”

“Yes,” Bryn
said, “I’ve read that Montino has the longest independent history of any of the provinces because it has its mountains to keep the world out.”

“Precisely!
The Montinos have nothing to fear from the rest of Adjuria, and it’s actually Adjuria which should be thankful. The Montinos have gotten the rest of the provinces out of a bind on more than one occasion.”

“They were the first ones to raise an army to challenge the Regidian seizure of the throne,” Bryn exclaimed excitedly.

“Correct again, my boy,” Rodden shouted so Halam could hear. “So tell me, young scholar, what will we see next on our journey?”

Bryn thought for a few moments before speaking.
“We’ll continue along the Klamath Plain, but the Montino Mountains will lessen on our right, eventually disappearing altogether. Further on, the King’s Road will meet the Montino River coming out of the mountains, and we’ll follow it all the way to Baden.”

“Right again.
I can’t slip anything by you, young man,” Rodden said smiling. “But tell me, is that all?”

“No, when we meet the Montino River to our west, we
’ll also see the King’s Wood on our east.”

“Yes,
when the King’s Wood is upon us we know that we aren’t but a day away from Baden.”

“Yes, but before we get to Baden, while still following the river, we
’ll also begin to see another forest to the east of us, the Baltika Forest which covers most of Regidia.” Bryn looked down at the road for a moment then up to Rodden. “Does King’s Road go through the forest, or is it cut back from the road?” he asked.

“There are some sections of the road which are clear, but for the most part
we’ll be traveling through forest. Whether it be the King’s Wood or the Baltika Forest I know not, but the trees will crowd in on us so thickly overhead that in some areas it’ll seem we’re traveling at night even though the sun shines brightly somewhere overhead.”

A chill went up Bryn’s spine.
He hadn’t read that in any of the books. Surely there was nothing to be concerned of, though.

“You’ve traveled the King’s Road to Baden many times, Rodden?” Bryn asked.

“Yes, many times. An official for the Tillatian government
will
tend to travel a lot, giving reports on grain, discussing trade, and generally letting the rest of the world remember we’re not all farmers lying by idly in our fields,” he said with a laugh.

“So is the King’s Lake right next to the city then,” Bryn asked.

“Oh yes, it goes right up to one portion of the city walls. Large docks are there with all manner of fishing boats and transport ships. The lake’s large enough that many of the goods arriving from the northern provinces are sent across the lake by ship to Portinia rather than overland around the lake. It saves much time, and is cheaper as well. Some of the boats are small enough that they can even manage the King’s River all the way to Dockside on the coast.

“It truly must be a sight, one I can
’t wait to see,” Bryn replied.

“Well, you won’t have long to wait.
In a few days time we’ll be there, and you’ll be marveling at the lake yourself.”

The conversation trailed off after that and the three rode on in silence for most of the afternoon.
Fields and more fields stretched as far as Bryn could see. They would pass wagons loaded with grain and goods bound for Coria, Lindonis, or Baden, or maybe even all the way down to the coast where they would have their choice of Dockside or Fielding, or any of the lesser towns along the way. Bryn found that he could make the time go by better when he speculated on where they were coming from and where they were bound to. Sometimes riders on horses would pass them in either direction, moving at a gallop to get somewhere fast. They would move to the side of the road, letting them pass. Other times it would be a single peasant or farmer walking along the road.

The sun began to go down over the fields on their right, and when they passed a lone tree off in a field, Halam indicated they
’d pull off of the road a ways and make camp for the night. There was no wood to be found anywhere, so they did without a fire. Bryn tied the horses to the tree and the three huddled around, eating their dry bread, sausage, and cheese while talking little. Halam still seemed to be in a gruff mood from the morning’s news, and this ill-humor was rubbing off on Rodden, who also chose to say little. When it grew dark, Bryn decided he would turn in early, and rolled his bedroll out to lie down, staring up at the stars until sleep overtook him.

SIX

The sky began to grow dark with rain clouds the next afternoon. All day it had appeared that Halam’s bad mood was still upon him, and it’d now spread to Rodden as well, for he hadn’t said anything that morning, all traces of his joyous outlook from the day before gone. Bryn was content to ride with his thoughts and let the others stew in theirs. He wondered what the council meeting in Baden would be like. It was obviously important, judging from the amount of materials his uncle and Rodden had taken along. He finally decided to ask Rodden as the afternoon wore on.

“What will the royal council be like?” he asked.

Rodden continued on as if he’d not heard, Halam even glancing over at him as the question was left unanswered. When Bryn was about ready to forget about the chance for any talk this day, Rodden took a deep breath and spoke.

“All fourteen provinces will have emissaries at the meeting,” he said.
“It will be much the same as a normal trade meeting held in the royal council, except this one will be discussing the possibility of opening up negotiations with Jonguria again after all of these years, a prospect which all the provinces should be eager to see occur.” He looked over at Halam to see if any affirmation of his words was forthcoming, but when that appeared unlikely, he continued, dealing with each province in turn.

“Shefflin will be eager to have a new market for its steel after all these years,” Rodden judged.
“There’re only so many uses for the material, which lasts practically forever here in Adjuria, and the demand in Jonguria must be quite large after so long an absence. Oschem would like to have additional buyers for its handicrafts, and Hotham for its minerals. Allidia will be eager to have additional purchasers for her wood products from the Tirana Forest, as well as the produce from the Bargoes Lake. Mercentia is an interesting case. She has always been the best producer of weapons in the country, and I’m positive that her emissaries will argue that it’s well past time to trade arms once again between the two nations, though I’m not sure the rest of the council will look favorably on the idea.”

He paused for a moment in thought, and then continued.

“Equinia will want to get rid of
her surplus horses, sheep, and wool, while both Tillatia and Fallownia will be more than happy to supply grain for the vast Jongurian Empire. Regidia I should think’ll be most cunning in ensuring that her wood supplies find better markets across the Isthmus than Allidia, and we can expect a rigorous debate between the two provinces. Portinia will trade what produce she can from her long coastline, but I think her real profit will lie in shipping the goods by sea. Culdovia and Duldovia will both profit from their freshwater fish and bounteous plains produce, as well as the precious stones from their mines. Ithmia will, as usual, remain neutral; while what Montino will do I haven’t a clue.”

He wound up his expectations of the provinces
’ trade ideas and fell quiet. Bryn was amazed at how knowledgeable Rodden was, and even Halam gave a low whistle at the recitation.

The storm clouds grew thicker overhead as evening began to draw near.
Fields continued to be the only thing in sight in all directions. None of them relished the idea of a night outdoors in a downpour.

“Let’s press on a little faster and make it to Coria before these clouds grow any worse and decide to open up on us,” Halam said over his shoulder to the other two.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Rodden.

They put their heels to the horses and began a steady gallop down the road, the dust rising in clouds behind them.
The sky grew darker as they rode on, and a few flashes of lightning appeared on the horizon. The tall grasses in the fields blew in waves with the wind, and a few drops began to fall on them.

“We’re still quite a few leagues from Coria, if my memory serves,” Rodden shouted over the sound of the horses’ hooves and the growing wind.
“If we’re lucky we’ll make it before the heavens open up on us.”

He misspoke.
Loud peals of thunder sounded, and the rain came, slow at first, but quickly turning into heavy sheets. The road began to darken from the increased amount of water now falling, and the riders did the best they could to bundle their coats tighter about them to keep dry. With no break on the horizon it was becoming apparent that they’d soon be drenched if this rain continued before they reached Coria for the night.

On they rode, th
e rain coming down in torrents. All three were now soaked and miserable, but they had no choice but to continue. There were no copses of trees anywhere in sight where they might find a respite from the weather. Each hoped that the next rise in the road they passed over would show Coria in the distance.