It was still early afternoon, not long after the crew had sung the short railway Nones office, when the train hit a steeper grade. Dafi looked up from the last of the books, Third Son and the Waffle Wolves of Wallonia, glad to leave off reading in the middle of the batter battle. Dal woke from his half-doze about the same time as she asked, “Should we make ready?”
The conductor shook his head, “Not for a little while. We have to go in the header first, then back into the spot where we can drop you off.”
“I will take my leave of you at the first pause,” the youngest bowed, stiffly. His wince told Dafi he was still in pain from the beating that morning. “Switching the rails over as we traverse, and... since I am unwell, it could take a bit.” He raised an eyebrow at the conductor.
“Ah, that it could, that it could,” the conductor chuckled. “We are all moving a bit slower today.” He addressed Dafi, “It might only be an extra hour or so, but if you are able for mountain trails, the next town is just a couple of kilometers away, across the ridge. So we will get to town a little after sundown.”
“If anyone is looking for you on the train, they will meet us at the abbey,” Lucian said, scanning ahead through his spyglass. “That way, you will be able to get into town without being harassed, perhaps.”
“Look here,” the young flagman sat on the bin across from them and pointed out the window to the switchback tracks. Dafi noted they travelled up the steep side of the ridge and slightly to the east. “I will be getting off the track when we stop the first time, to operate the switch,” he said, pointing to the steps cut into the cliff-face. “You will get off there when the train stops the second time,” and he pointed to the end of the first switchback, near the tree-line.
The conductor handed her a map from the file, “I cannot let you keep that, but take a look at the topography of the ridge there. The circles here and here are where the bandit camps were. They’ve been removed, but you never know what might decide to den up there before winter.”
Dalibor leaned over her shoulder, to get a better view of the map, and Dafi had to concentrate to keep her focus on the map. He rumbled, “De schlope on de odder side iz not az schteep. Vhy doez de train go op de cliff?”
“The rail line needs a more stable base than the surveyors found on the other side of the ridge. This side is solid rock, the other is mostly gravel and soil. Horrible from the surveyor’s point-of-view, but usable for the old western trade road, here.” The conductor pointed out the road on the map.
“It also has good tree-cover. That’s why the bandits liked it.” The young monk was retying his boots, making ready for his exit point. “The first reverse stop is over a small drop-off, and there is a goat-track going over the shoulder from about that point.” He stood, stomping his feet to check his work, “It’s no walk in a pleasure garden, that’s for sure, but the Baron’s mountain patrols call it a ‘moderate’ trek,” he said took a shoulder-bag from another cabinet. Then he gave them both a blessing for soldiers.
The flagman’s words of taking leave seemed to be directed to the group in general, “Remember, you can't straighten the world with just your shoulder, Onorat Spătar. You also need a place to stand,” then he left by the rear exit.
“What was that last bit about?” Dafi asked, answered only by the shrugs of the others.
~=*=~
Dalibor winced inwardly at the youngster’s parting shot. Probably deserved, the way he outed the young man’s Moviloraş accent earlier in the day. And it was also a reminder to keep his head down. Speaking of which... “How schould ve exit for bezt coverage, brodderz?”
Brother Lucian, still scanning the area with the spyglass, answered, “There is a bit of a curve to the tracks, following the outward curve of the cliff-face. If you exit on the outside stair, and follow alongside the tracks behind the train, then climb down behind the barricade, you should be hidden from any vantage points in the cars. The trail passes just downhill from that, and I do not think the climb down would be a problem for either of you.”
The time-keeper handed over a scrap of paper, “Here is the rough report on the places to look for statistical data on the unrest.” Dafi took it and slipped it in her pocket, handing the keys to the storage bins to him. “If there is any chance you can get that to the attention of those who can *do* something about the problem, that will also give you the document locations for more information.” He unlocked the bin with their gear, and helped them unload. Dal did not miss the fact that the time-keeper had slipped the books in Dafi’s pack.
As the train slowed, the elder monk said, “I should make another pass through the train, and be in the passenger cars about the same time you debark. I will pray for your safe travels.” He also blessed them before leaving.
Brother Lucian, still scanning the train and the cliff-face with his spyglass, murmured, “You may want to sit in the floor near the back as we reverse. There are a few heads popping out of windows.” He put the spyglass down, and smiled at Dafi, “Write to me at the abbey, and let me know where you land for Christmastide, or if you need sanctuary again. It has been too long since we talked, and this was not a good trip for it.” Then the brother gave a neutral nod to Dal with an even gaze.
Dal had the oddest feeling that he was being sized up, but not as an enemy. Something in the back of his head nagged him that it felt like being evaluated as a potential suitor by a young lady’s older sibling. Nah, he told himself he was imagining things, it was just wishful thinking. The animal instinct was getting sneaky.
~=*=~
After all the skulduggery, leaving the train proved to be rather simple, and anti-climactic. Dafi found that after a day on the train, it was a relief to cross the ridge, and hear only birdsong. She supposed that Lucian must be used to the noise, or deaf to it.
The goat track was not a difficult trail at all, the late autumn day was temperate with light breezes, and the mid-afternoon sunshine through the trees tugged briefly at her half-forgotten memories of sketching and watercolour while at the Academy. She stretched her legs, picking up the pace a bit, unaware she was humming under her breath until she heard the harmony to the old folk song being hummed behind her. Dafi chuckled as she realized it was the same song Dal had sung during the jump from the airship.
As they came within sight the road, the track widened, and she adjusted her stride to walk beside him. “For all our plans of avoiding contact with people, we keep ending up in the company of others.” That did not quite sound right to her after she said it, but she continued. “No help for it in the next town, since it covers all routes through the pass.”
Dal grunted, “Goot reazon for it, too. Dis iz vun of de few pazzez low enough to be uzed year-round. Ontil de airschipz vere zafe enough for crozzing de rangez, dis vaz a major choke-point for de armiez. Now, it’z moztly de traderz, traveling schowz und de Rom dot uze de roadz.” He pointed off the road to a clearing visible through the trees, “... und before de Mazterz schtarted cleaning tingz op, dis vaz a prime hunting ground for de ratz.”
From their higher vantage point, Dafi saw it was not so much a clearing as a crater, roughly about the size of a football pitch. The thing that was the most frightening was not the destruction, but how sharply the destruction left off from scorched earth to virgin forest. Knowing that the targets were likely bandits did not alleviate her shiver at the precision. The use of such weapons was rare, but the fact that those weapons were under the chain of command of the Baron brought home the thought that he was forced to make difficult decisions for the greatest good.
She was silent as they passed near the bare circle, climbing over felled trees. There were signs the forest was reclaiming this ground, but it would likely not be used for an overnighting spot in this generation. The travelling families she knew near the fortress avoided battle-stained grounds, saying the unquiet spirits of those slain in strife tried to pass their bad luck off to the living. It was too far from the road and too close to the town to be a legitimate campsite, as well.
Indeed, the smoke from the town’s chimneys was smudging the sky just above the trees in the distance once they gained the road. “How long has it been since you have been through this town?” Dafi asked as she strode towards the town.
Dal settled into an easy pace beside her. “Ho, dis vun vaz only about ten yearz ago. De road goez to de Vanderer’z Gate, juzt pazt de kumpania groundz.”
That did not sound good. “They do not allow the Rom in the town?” That could mean trouble for any travellers.
He laughed and shook his head “Not enough room for de kumpaniaz to overnight, inzide de vallz, und dhey don’t much care for de pricez inzide, eidder. Na, de town keepz de forezt down for about a hundred meterz avay from de vallz, to make vatching for banditz eazier. De kumpaniaz get to schtay dhere for free, zame az de travelling schowz, az long az dhey don’t leave a mezz.”
“Prices inside the walls high last time you were here?” They had such good luck up to now, she hoped it would hold out a little longer.
“Meh, about vot hyu’d find in any town on a trade route. Ve can get an idea about bezt placez for zoldierz from de gate guardz, maybe.” He looked down at her, “Ve going in vith our real facez, or schould ve be zumbody elze?”
Dafi chuckled, “Why, did you have to leave town suddenly? Something that doesn’t have a statute of limitations on it?”
“Hah! No, not for me. Und ve are juzt schtaying overnight, headed out to de air schtation op de ridge in de morning.” Dal nodded, “schort und to de point, zo dot if dhey zeparate uz for de interview, ve both giff de zame answerz.”
Dafi blinked, and realized she had not even thought about the guard cross-checking their information. “Just in case, the rest of the story. We can’t really tell them we were on the train, because then they would ask why we left the train before town. So... we were recently re-assigned, but are not yet on duty?”
“Zoundz about right. Ve vere lazt at...” He closed his eyes a moment, “Iasonescu Pazz. Dot’z de fortrezz at de odder end of de road. Qviet, de main job dhere iz guarding de accezz to de convent hermitage, zo dot explainz you high rank vithout you femily tiez.” He tapped the rank tabs on her shoulder. “Hyu haff to report to de Baron, Hy’m juzt along for de guard duty. Dot might keep anyvun from delaying uz.”
She nodded, “Asking at the gate for an overnight bivouac recommendation lets them know we are not planning to meet anyone, maybe.” She was a little out of practice with being diversionary from the traveller’s side of the question. Her last stint as a gate-guard was three years ago, and that was as a commander, for a spot that was a second line of defense for the fortress. Realizing that they had to hide who they were from guards that were carrying out their sworn duty, though they likely would not stand in the way, Dafi rationalized that they were not intending harm to the town. Being devious made her head hurt.
~=*=~
Dalibor waited to hear any further thoughts she had on the procedure to use at the gate, but Dafi fell quiet, and settled into an easy-going pace that still moved quickly.
His last trip through town had also been a single overnight, with a road inspection patrol. They had not had any trouble then, but that was with a full patrol. Mixed courier pairs were not unknown, but they also were not all that common. Letting the guard know she had been on the hermitage guard duty could either get them the safest bunk in town, or sent to a bordello. Hopefully, the issue would not come up.
~=*=~
“What was all that muttering with the captain?” Dafi asked as they entered the early evening traffic streaming past the Wanderer’s gate.
Dalibor shrugged, figuring it was safe enough to tell her now, “Hy vaz making sure dhey vere zending uz to a nize plaze, inschtead of a cathouze.”
“Excuse me?”
He chuckled, “Hyu got two reactionz from zumbody juzt off hermitage duty. Zum vant a plaze for qviet contemplation. Mozt of dhem are ready to prove dhey ain’t ready to tek vowz.”
He wondered if that shocked look she was giving him meant he had crossed the line, until she asked, “You mean they will take non-guild freelancers in the bordellos here?”
He laughed, and she giggled with him as they headed down the street to the inn. The lamp-lighters were out in this section, as the light faded from the sky, so that meant it was at least expected they would not be beset by the footpads that preferred shadow. Besides, any pickpocket who tried for one of the Jägerkin as a mark was either that good or that insane.
When they came to the place, it was a matter of moments to find the innkeeper and arrange for a bivouac. The place smelled clean, which might have disappointed some of his brothers-in-arms, but meant a better place for Dafi to sleep. It was a small room, with an east-facing window, and had been cleaned before they arrived, so he nodded to Dafi. She took care of the haggling, while he stood grinning behind her.
“You did not need to frighten them into giving us local guardsman rates,” she murmured to him as they sat in the public room, waiting for their evening meal to be served.
“Hy vaz not threatening dhem, Hy juzt schmiled.” he responded. She raised an eyebrow at him and sniffed. It made him chortle, “Juzt being de friendly zort, kommender.”
The rest of the clientele was giving them a respectful distance. He did not think they were so much fearful, as just staying out of their way. The uniforms helped, as did the fact that though they were travel-worn, they were clean. So the townies were thinking the two of them were on duty - all to the good. Tomorrow morning, they would be out of the place as early as they woke.
Dalibor was about to broach the subject quietly with Dafi as they finished their meal, when a group of obviously drunk soldiers rolled in. The uniforms were not of the town, or the duchy. From the reactions of the barmaids, this crew of louts were entirely unwelcome to them, but they were not permitted to throw them out, even when entering the bar belligerently.
Another oddity - either these boys couldn’t hold their liquor, or they were on something else. Yes, there was a good deal of beer spilled on them, but their sweat did not smell as if they had been drinking, certainly not enough to be that roaring drunk. Dal began to smell a set-up.
He managed to get Dafi standing, and headed to the stairs, when the one with the most rank decorations shouted, “Me an’ the boys are here to get laid!”
Dafi nearly stopped, but Dal had her by the arm, blocking the line-of-sight between her and the soldiers. “Keep moofing. Zumting iz wrong about dhem,” he muttered as they threaded their way across the room, and not hurrying.
The innkeeper blustered, pointing out that the bordellos were in the next district over, and the ranking one backhanded him, “Women in a drinking place are corrupt, so they’re all whores!” Then he grabbed the nearest barmaid.
The beer pitcher smashing into the lout’s head had come from behind Dal, and he glanced back long enough to see Dafi grabbing another. Then he turned his attention to the fight she had started. From the barmaid’s reaction, these guys were fair game, but there were a few others wading in on the side of the soldiers.
He was just beginning to enjoy the fight, when the tone changed. He realized Dafi was no longer at his back, but was pulling one lout off the youngest serving girl. Dal shifted his tactics to get back to her, just as four of the “drunks” grabbed her. A corridor opened up in the fight and they hauled her out. The rest of the soldiers and their allies turned their focus to him.
He could not drop into berzerker mode while there were civilians involved, but he did stop pulling his punches. Some idiot tried beaning him with one of the few intact beer pitchers left, but did not dodge the shard Dal returned to him.
Finally, he gained the door, only to have it blocked by another double-patrol of soldiers. Dal was just able to recognize the city guard uniforms, and pull up short before he plowed through them. Instead, he was able to shout, “Dhey took her! Did hyu zee dhem?”
The delay as the innkeeper and barmaids vetted him as a legitimate guest made him want to howl, but the captain of the town guard caught on quick enough. “Go! We’ll mop up here and follow!”
Finally, he burst out into the street, “HY HUNT!”
