A Journey Never Begun Pt. 08

Copyright (c) 2019 James Miehoff, All Rights Reserved.

This work may not be published whether for fee or free without this copyright.

---------

This is one of a series of stories set in the Land of Etherium, a place out of time where wizards channeled mana and a host of creatures we call fairy tales roamed the lands. It is said these tales occurred almost 27,000 years ago before a set of cataclysms shaped the face of the earth and the fairy folk retreated or we in our smugness, no longer saw them.

In any case, they are just stories after all, aren't they?

---------

This is part eight of the journey of Muddle to find a new Master to continue his magical education. If you haven't read the first seven parts, please do, things may make more sense if you are caught up. I'll wait.

---------

"Well, Mr. Frog, today we continue the journey to find a new master for me so that I may continue my studies on magic," Muddle announced after breakfast.

"Re-deep('About time')," said his familiar.

Laughing Muddle extinguished the cooking fire with the last of the water in his bucket then reached in and pulled the flue closed. Packing the rest of his belongings in his backpack, he held the back pocket open for his familiar.

The frog looked at him for a long time then waddled over to the edge of the table and executed a perfect one and a half flip with a half twist to land perfectly into the pocket.

"Re-Deep! ('This is not dignified')," came out of the pocket muffled by the fabric.

"Maybe not," said Muddle, "But until your legs grow long enough to walk alongside me, this will have to do."

"Re-deep ('I will work on it')," came the muffled reply.

Muddle shouldered his pack, picked up his staff and strode out the front door. He turned, closed the door and put the peg in the door to keep it closed against the wind. He then gathered his mana and pushed it through his staff. He selected a spell of closing and preserving and pushed it through the staff and activated it. The staff bucked a little in his hand and he saw the globe on the shoulders of the figures spin and lift just off their shoulders before glowing and then returning. The house hummed for a second and glowed white for a few seconds more.

Satisfied Muddle set off down the path absent mindedly resetting the wards and reinforcing them.

Soon he was on the path and headed towards Forreston.

When he reached the cleared area before the town, he turned left and followed a farm trail around the town. Telling himself, he didn't want to be tempted to add anything to his backpack, it was really his subconscious desire not to run into the little thief he had outwitted the last time he was there. It probably added an hour to his journey, but that was a fair trade for the dangers of walking through the town.

Soon enough, he found himself on the Great South Road heading towards Stormhold on the southern shores. Looking around, he could see no one on the road ahead of him and there didn't appear to be anyone behind him. Shrugging he straightened the pack and called softly over his shoulder, "Looks like it is just you and me, Mr. Frog."

"Re-deep ('Good')," came the reply equally softly.

By the time it was getting dark, Muddle started to look for a place to shelter for the night. As he came over a hill he saw a fire burning on the side of the road with the shadows of wagons in a semi-circle around it.

"Tinkers and gypsies from the look of it," he thought to himself. "Odd campfellows."

"Re-deep ('Bandits?')," came softly from the back of his pack.

"Perhaps," Muddle said.

"Wait, Mr. Frog, do you hear my thoughts?" Muddle asked.

"Re-Deep! ('Of course Master, your words are mostly just noise to me')," came his familiar's reply.

"So I just need to think at you and you can hear me?" Muddle asked in his thoughts.

"('Of course Master')," replied his familiar without croaking.

"That may prove useful," Muddle said musing to himself. "In the meantime, let us see if we can share the fire with the camp ahead of us, if they are willing."

As Muddle approached the camp, he stayed in the center of the road and when he had gotten even with the center of the camp, he called out, "Good evening travelers. May a fellow traveler approach your camp and break bread in peace with you."

His caution was rewarded with seeing several crossbows suddenly aimed on him as well as a number of swords being drawn and even a couple of old fashioned long bows being drawn.

A voice called back, "Who might this traveler be and what does he want?"

"My name is Muddle from Thorgmorton, a town to the east. I am a single traveler heading to Stormhold in the south. I am looking to share the companionship and the fire and safety of fellow travelers for the night before I continue on my way south."

The voice called back, "What weapons have you, Muddle of Throckmorton?"

"Throgmorton," Muddle called back. "I have no weapons, just a traveler's staff, a dagger and a hatchet."

A murmur was heard and then the voice called out, "Walk slowly into the light that we may see the truth of your words. Be aware that we have several bows trained on you by gentlemen who do not miss."

"Thank you for the fair warning," Muddle called back. "I am walking towards you now."

When he was at the edge of the light from the fire, Muddle stopped and slowly turned in place until he had made a full circle. When he stopped, the voice said in a more friendly tone, "Sorry for our caution, Sir Muddle, but we were beset by bandits three nights ago and sore were our losses."

"My condolences for your losses," said Muddle quietly. "If you would prefer, I can leave. I mean to bring you no grief. It is lonely on the road and I was only hoping to share some bread and companionship for the evening before I continue in the morning."

"Then please join us," the voice said. "My name is Jonton of the tinkers. Please come around the fire into our camp."

As Muddle came around the fire he stopped in front of a tall thin man who had been the voice. "Are you related to Ronton of the tinkers and his daughter Lenore?" Muddle asked.

Shocked the tall man said, "Yes I am. His is my brother and she is my niece."

Muddle looked at him in the flickering light and held up his left arm. He sleeve fell back to his elbow and in the dim light the wedding knot shown from under his skin in a pale white light. "May I call you uncle then?" Muddle asked.

"By Santan's hairy bush," Jonton exclaimed as he hugged Muddle and jumped around nearly throwing both of them to the ground.

"It is alright everyone. This is a friend. No, this is more than a friend, this is my nephew, by the grace of the Goddess," yelled Jonton. "I have told you of the wizardling who saved my brother and my niece from death on the high plains years ago. This is that wizardling. And he confirmed a part of the story that I have not told anyone. He is married to my niece in a wedding blessed by the Goddess herself. Look at his wedding knots."

The last was said while holding Muddle's arm up for all to see the glowing knots under his skin.

Surrounded by people, Muddle had to restrain his impulse to lash out. Many touched his arm and one woman said in a shocked voice, "It isn't painted on. It really is in his skin. Blessed is the Child of Destiny."

Muddle filed that comment away for later investigation.

As the crowd dwindled, Muddle was able to look around more and spotted something familiar among the gypsy wagons.

He called over to Jonton, "Is that the wagon of Samir and Lala of the gypsies that I see among the wagons?"

Suddenly a torch was thrust in his face causing him to flinch.

"It is you," called out a deep burly voice.

Before he could react, Muddle was swept up in a bear hug by a giant bear of a man. The giant swung him around like a ragdoll, letting him go only when Muddle gasped, "Please, you are crushing me."

"I am so sorry Magesta Muddle," the giant said apologetically.

Muddle held up his hand while trying to force air back into his lungs. When he was better he looked up to see Samir in a submissive posture being hit by his wife Lala. "This is how you pay him back for saving us? By killing him? You stupid ogre of a man. Why did I marry you?"

Muddle called up, "It's ok Lala. I'm fine. Samir was just enthusiastic."

At the interruption, Lala stopped and ran to Muddle hugging him just a thoroughly if not as tightly and kissing his cheek many times.

"I am so sorry for the brute of a husband of mine," she started to apologize and Muddle waved it off.

"It is alright. I am glad to see that both of you survived and made it off the High Plains before winter," Muddle said.

Jonton stared at the three of them not sure if he should laugh or defend his newfound nephew. He finally decided on laughter.

"Well," he said laughing, "I can see that we all have some catching up to do."

"Martee, please bring some food for our guest and some of the good meade," he called out towards a wagon.

Chairs were brought out and stories were told. The story of saving Samir and Lala from the plague was told by Samir, with interruptions from both Lala and Muddle. As well as the rescue of Ronton and Lenore and Muddle and Lenore's wedding. For some reason a wistful sigh went up from the tinker women when the part of the story of the wedding knots and the appearance of the Goddess was told. Again many people wanted to see the wedding knots in Muddle's arm and many more mundane sets of wedding knots were twisted on the wrists of tinkers that night. Finally Samir and Jonton announced that it was time for bed. They ordered the watchers for the night and everyone drifted off to their wagons, picking up their youngsters that had fallen asleep on the way.

Muddle yawned and asked what he could do to help and was told by both Samir and Jonton to find a place to sleep (both offered their own beds and Muddle declined). He settled on an oak tree near the center of the camp and unrolled his bedroll. He let his familiar out, warning him not to stray too far.

Just before sleeping, Muddle set out some wards. He put them out past the perimeter of the camp and then fell asleep.

Sometime just before dawn, Muddle was awakened by screams and shouting. He ran towards the commotion in time to see three men rushing towards the camp with swords drawn, as he watched, they slowed down and then suddenly sprout arrows. The men went down. Following them down with his eyes, Muddle could see perhaps another 20 or so men on the ground also looking like pincushions.

He stepped up to Jonton and asked what was going on.

"The bandits are back," he said. "But this time, they run at us and then stop or try to run away. At that point, they are rabbits for our archers. I have never seen anything like it."

"I can explain," Muddle said, "But only if you don't tell anyone. Most people don't like a magical explanation for things."

Jonton looked at him and nodded. Samir had come over to the two men and he nodded as well.

Muddle looked around and then said in a conspiratorial voice, "I put wards up last night. They make people that bump into them want to run away. As they run in the bandits get as far as they can and then try to run away. Some of them that are braver than others will fight it and so they will hit a point where they can go no further, but their bravery will not let themselves retreat, so they just stand there."

"I see," said Jonton. "Poor bastards."

The dawn came an hour later and the men of the camp went out to investigate the carnage. They only found one bandit alive, by chance it was the bandit chief, and they brought him back to Jonton and Samir. Jonton wanted him torn apart by horses for what he and his bandits had done. Samir wanted to cut him up slowly and let him watch as his parts were burned in a fire in front of him. In the end, the solution Muddle proposed was accepted and the legal punishment for bandits at that time was carried out.

"Waste of good rope," Jonton said as they pulled the wagons past the still hanging corpses of the bandit leader and his twenty two men. Muddle turned and climbed up onto his wagon and fell in line with the mixed caravan of gypsies and tinkers.

Muddle sat on the bench of the wagon with Daniell, listening to her instructions on how to drive the two horses with half an ear. His mind was wandering far afield to how he came into possession of this wagon and his lovely driving teacher.

It was just this morning, he thought, after the bandits had all been hung on the trees by the road, I turned to Jonton and asked if he could buy a wagon and horses to continue his journey south.

"Because you are my favorite and only nephew and you do not know our ways, I will ignore that request," Jonton said in a most serious tone. "It is a killing insult to ask to buy a tinker's wagon. The wagon is the tinker's life. Without it, he is a townie, a land foot. He is tied forever to one spot like a tree. You might as well take a stake and drive it through his heart into the earth and root him forever."

"My deepest apologies, Uncle. It appears I have very much to learn about my new people. Please forgive my ignorance," Muddle said quietly while bowing his head to Jonton.

"We are headed south anyway, my boy," said Jonton. "I think I have a way to solve both of our problems. Come with me," as he headed off at a fast walk.

"Both of our problems?" thought Muddle, but said nothing and followed Jonton.

Shortly they stood in front of a well-kept wagon. A very beautiful young lady was just finishing loading it when Jonton cleared his throat. The young lady stifled a scream and ran to kneel and prostrate herself before them.

"Daniell, have you found a suitable husband?" Jonton asked gently.

The young lady sobbed for a moment and then shook her head. Her answer, "No," could barely be heard over the sound of her sobs.

"Daniell, can you tell me what the tinker law says you must do?" Jonton asked gently.

The young lady sobbed and then gathered her voice before answering. Without moving from her place on the ground, she said, "I must prepare the wagon and myself for the gifting, that those things which are of the tinkers should be dispersed among the tinkers so they may make the community stronger and that they may not be lost."

"You have quoted the law correctly and completely," said Jonton. "Have you made the wagon ready?"

"Yes, High Elder," she replied, her voice stronger now.

"Have you made yourself ready?" asked Jonton gently.

"Yes, High Elder," Daniell replied.

"Then rise, Daniell. You have correctly quoted the law as it is normally taught. But there is an exception which is not widely known," Jonton told her.

Muddle moved to help her get up but Jonton put an arm in front of him. Jonton shook his head, "No" and Muddle moved back.

When Daniell was standing, Jonton took her hands and said, "What I am going to tell you are not secrets, but they not widely known because there is an element of shame involved. There is an exception to this law. It goes like this. 'If at the discretion of the Elders and with the permission of any adult kin, there is anyone who would take the eldest orphan daughter as a handmaiden until such time as she becomes of age and finds a suitable husband, that person will take ownership of the family possessions.'"

Daniell's face reddened as if slapped as the meaning of the words sank in.

Jonton stepped forward and held the young lady when it looked like she might fall.

"I said there was an element of shame involved, but there is also an element of hope," Jonton told her softly. "You are a tinker and it will always be your decision as the eldest surviving child to make the decision regarding the clan Rog."

Daniell clung to Jonton for a moment more, than straightened and pushed herself back to stand on her own. Her eyes were red from the tears and more were flowing down her cheeks, but she nodded.

Her voice wavered and cracked but she managed to say, "I am the daughter of my father and last heir of the clan Rog. I will submit to the advice of the High Elder."

"I would expect no less from the daughter of my friend," said Jonton gently.

Turning to Muddle, Jonton spoke in a serious formal voice, "Will you Muddle, nephew by marriage into the clan Ton accept the services of this handmaiden, Daniell and the remaining possession of the clan Rog as your own?"

Muddle's mind was spinning and he felt as if he was just set adrift in stormy seas with no land in sight. He felt a knot in his chest and it was starting to get dark when he heard his voice reply, "I Muddle, husband of Lenore of the clan Ton, do accept this honor and responsibility and will guard them with my life."

He had no memory of what happened next until he found himself standing in front of Daniell, having just kissed her forehead. He and everyone there did feel the glow and heard the voice of the Goddess as she said, "Done," but no one knew what that meant.

Everyone marveled at this and for more than an hour people stared at the print of Muddle's lips on Daniell's forehead where he had kissed her.

Jonton slapped him on the back and pulled him aside and asked in a whisper, "Was that more of your magic? Did you make the Goddess appear to all of us? And how did you make your lips appear glowing on Daniell's forehead?"

Muddle shook his head and whispered back, "I had nothing to do with any of it. I passed out and lost control of my body and my voice. This sort of thing seems to happen around me for some reason, a lot."

Jonton looked at him with wide eyes and said, "You are touched by the Gods. They have some destiny in store for you. I will pray for you."

Muddle looked back at Jonton and said, "Thank you. I think I am going to need all the help I can get. And speaking of help, please tell me what I just agreed to. I feel like I am swimming in uncharted waters here."

Jonton laughed and slapped Muddle on the back. "We both are. That exception to the rule hasn't been used in over a thousand years."

Looking at the panic in Muddle's eyes, Jonton continued, "A couple days ago when we were raided by the bandits, Daniell's mother, father and brother were killed. That made her an orphan not yet old enough to inherit the family property. There are no other kin for us to appeal to, so by the law you heard, her family property would be distributed to the other tinker families first by need then for lack of a better term by greed. She is considered one of the pieces of property and so could be selected by another family.

"A good family would raise her like their own daughter. A not so nice family might keep her as a servant or worse. Given how beautiful she is, my fear was that someone would choose worse.

"By tinker law she is old enough to marry or give her body freely, but not old enough to inherit. She is almost 19, but she cannot inherit for another 2 years after that until she is 21. There are several good families among us, but they have daughters and so would probably not select her. There are at least two families that have only boys that would select her and I would fear for her safety with either of them.

"You seem to be a good man. My niece would not have given up her marriage rope to just anyone and having the Goddess bless your marriage, well, let's just say the Goddess is a much better judge of character than I am. This also solves the problem that you asked about earlier. You now have a wagon and can travel where and when you choose. Now go back to Daniell and have her show you what you need to know."

Muddle nodded, still not sure of anything, but he walked back to Daniell, who curtsied as he approached.

"Master, how may I serve you," she said with her head down, trembling.

Muddle lifted her head with a finger under her chin. "Daniell, you never have to bow to me or call me master, ever again. That is reserved for my familiar and if I ever finish my training and become a Master Wizard, for my apprentices. Never you. My name is Muddle and that is all you need to use. Understood?"