Chapter Sixteen
The Journey Continues
The travellers had made good time for their first day. Though Brock was sorry to leave those that had become his friends, he did not have the same regrets as in former times. He carried with him the rich history of the pendant and an understanding of his importance in the quest of bringing about its wholeness once more. He thought about Theron. Zebulon had told him that Theron himself had found the ruby in a riverbed and so it excited Brock to think that he would follow in this great wizard's footsteps.
According to Zebulon's knowledge, the river was now far deeper than it had been in the days when Theron walked there, so the ruby would be found resting way down on the river floor. The idea of swimming in the river to recover the ruby was thrilling to Brock.
There would be few villages where they were going, so it was even more remote than the mine had been and yet instead of isolation as before, there was offer of adventure. They had brought an extra horse with them for supplies because the villages they would visit, it was expected would have little in the way of surplus supplies because they catered for themselves rather than irregular travellers.
The days they travelled took them further into limestone territory. On the smaller cliffs, Zebulon had them practise climbing, finding good foot and hand holds. It was tough work, and somewhat frightening at times. Brock found coming down worse when they abseiled because it was hard to let himself stand horizontal from the cliff face. He wanted to stand up normally, but when he did that his feet would begin to slide out from under him. After much persistence he got the idea and then found it fun being able to make large hops down the mountain.
"That's enough practice on the cliffs for today. You now need to spend more time practising your magic," said Zebulon. "It is most important you learn the protection spell thoroughly."
Brock still found magic practise arduous but he helped himself work by imagining he was Theron. In the telling of the stories of the wizard, Zebulon had captured Brock’s imagination and many of the evenings were filled with him asking questions which Zebulon answered patiently.
The country around them held a charm for him also. As they progressed on their journey they ventured further into a world of limestone cliffs and caves. Days of travel brought them further into country where limestone cliffs towered above them. Many looked like magical castles and other mystic things.
"They remind me of great castles," exclaimed Zebulon suddenly.
To this comment Brock enjoyed considerable amusement because he had been thinking the same thing but didn't want to sound fanciful by saying anything. Zebulon narrowed his gaze as he watched the grin play around Brock's mouth.
"Something amusing you?"
"No, no. Just admiring the cliffs. Do we have to climb them?"
"Further on it will be necessary. We need to see if there is a cave nearby where we can spend the night, then next morning we will head for the next village for supplies."
They found a cave, one larger than any they had stayed in so far. Brock set to with his practice while Zebulon prepared a simple meal. He had become much better with moving the stone and could now direct things from one hand to the other, or aim it at an object. He targeted a small limestone outcrop near the entrance of their cave and was taking great delight in sending the stone to bounce along the top of it before returning it to his hand.
Zebulon smiled at him. "You are doing well young lad."
No sooner were the words uttered than the stone hit Zebulon hard on the back of the head.
Brock rushed forward. "I'm sorry Zebulon, I lost concentration! I'm really sorry. Are you alright?"
"It hurt, but I will live." With that said Zebulon dived at Brock and tackled him to the ground. Brock was alarmed at first until he realised from the broad smile on the other's face that he was playing. Something he had not done with him before.
"Right," said he as he released the elf and lifted him on his feet again, " Now do your other practise. You have enough time before we eat."
"I don't like the protection spell. Nothing happens."
"Yes it does, it is just not strong enough for you to notice. But there will be times soon, when you will be very thankful you learnt it."
The next day they arrived at a tiny village. They entered it through a large gate that was reminiscent of Brookfield farm, although this gate stood open because there was no fence joining it.
"Are you sure this is a village and not a private farm?"
Zebulon gave a short chuckle. "It's the village, just a very small one with not more than a few families. I am not sure how friendly they will be towards two ragged strangers suddenly coming upon them."
They followed a narrow winding road up to the top of a gentle rise. From there the travellers had an excellent view of a neatly set out village. The few dozen houses were all carefully cared for, painted with clean, pleasing colours. The surrounding grounds had well trimmed hedges, a few flowers and rows of vegetable gardens. Off to one side there was a large vineyard with plump, perfectly shaped bunches of grapes adorning the vines which grew along latticed structures. Children played in the yards, oblivious to the strangers. Further away from the houses were sheds and fenced off areas where fowls, pigs and goats occupied themselves as it pleased them. On the slopes at a distance, horses could be seen quietly grazing.
Men and women were feeding the animals and getting them settled for the approaching evening. A woman engaged in throwing food to some eager fowls suddenly noticed the travellers. She called to a man nearby. He gazed up at the strangers and then gave a wave and indicated with a generous gesture for them to join him.
"Well so far so good. They seem friendly enough," commented Zebulon.
They led the horses down from the slope, following well worn tracks. By the time they joined the villagers, more had been alerted to their presence so that there was a small gathering of men, women, and most of the children.
"Hello strangers," said the man who had beckoned to them. "My name is Benjamin. What brings you to these parts?"
"Zebulon. And this is Brock. I'm showing the young lad where the old prospectors used to work. We will be following the Ruby River."
"That's a big river. And with all the cliffs, you need to be careful. You could be injured or lost. Don't think you'll find any rubies there any more."
"We are taking care. We have a map, and we know how to rock climb. But thank you for the warning."
The children were fascinated by the visitors. It was obvious they didn't see too many strangers. They were particularly interested in Brock, Zebulon seemed rather daunting to them. They would edge each other on to come close to Brock and as soon as he looked at them they would scurry back to hide behind the other children. Once he entered into the game and pretended he was going to chase them, they found that so much fun, the game could have gone all night had not their mothers called them in to wash up and get ready for the evening meal.
Benjamin agreed to supply them with provisions and was willing for them to erect their tent on a flat, sheltered area near some of the big sheds. He also invited them to dine with his family, and the invitation was graciously accepted by Zebulon and Brock.
Sometime in the middle of the night they were woken from a sound sleep by some sounds, but preferred to stay tucked under their rugs, believing that it was some activities of interest only to the villagers. But later they were to learn the real reason for the nocturnal noises.
Early in the morning they were rudely awakened and dragged from their tent. Brock struggled defiantly but his efforts were fruitless, for the men were quite strong. Zebulon went with them quietly and waited patiently for an explanation of the reversal of their welcome. The men, expecting opposition from Zebulon had armed themselves heavily with whatever object would serve their purpose for hitting or cutting. Benjamin had several stout ropes and he directed some of the men to tie Zebulon and Brock to a post which formed part of one of the sheds.
Brock was
bewildered by the change in circumstances. He noticed the once playful children lingered at a distance peering from behind a mother's skirt or a hedge. At the direction of some of the men the women shepherded the children back inside the houses.
Zebulon passively allowed himself to be bound with the robes, the only indication of his displeasure was a tiny muscle tightening and flexing in his jaw. Brock was angry with the wizard. He was probably strong enough to free himself from his captors but then if he would only use his magic, their freedom would be assured. He decided that at least he would do something. He concentrated all his efforts into lifting a small rock in the endeavour to instil terror into their captors. He could not understand when nothing happened. The rock did not even tremble. Zebulon was well aware of his intentions and he stared sternly at him as a warning.
Zebulon's face showed little emotion as he asked, "What is the meaning of this? You made us welcome yesterday and now you treat us like criminals."
"You tricked us, you did," said a man they called Gamble.
"In what way?"
"You came in here pretending to be innocent travellers so you could see what we had, and how many of us there were, and then you had your friends come and rob us," stated Benjamin in a hard tone.
"Rob you, of what?"
"Don't play games with us," growled Gamble, then he spat and cursed so much that Benjamin told him to be quiet.
"If you intend to keep us bound, and accuse us of theft you need to at least inform us of the charges against us," said Zebulon in a stern tone.
"A yard was broken into in the night and all our horses are gone," said Benjamin.
"So could the horses have broken out of their own accord?" asked Zebulon.
"No, this is the doing of men."
"What makes you so sure we are involved?"
"Because we don't have trouble around here, but the moment you arrive, we are robbed."
The hard line around Zebulon's mouth was the only sign that he held within him a temper ready to erupt. "Then if we are supposedly involved with these robbers, why would we stay around after the deed is done?"
So intent on finding someone to blame for their losses, the men had readily made assumptions that had little to do with the reality of the situation. They murmured among themselves and some were already beginning to feel uneasy about their hasty accusations.
Finally Gamble spoke. "Because you stayed to see what else would be worth the taking."
"Yes, you must think we are stupid, and wouldn't associate you with the robbery. We'll leave you here to think about telling us what you are really up to. Maybe when you begin to feel hungry, you might give us some worthwhile information." Having said that Benjamin walked back to his house and the rest of the men followed to their own houses.
One paused and said, "Should someone stay on guard?"
Gamble gave a short harsh laugh. "You'd have to be a wizard to get out of those ropes, and I can see them from my house if their friends decide to free them."
Once they were out of hearing, Brock turned to Zebulon. "Why didn't you fight them?"
"There are too many of them, and they had weapons. I do not enjoy pain of defeat any more than the next man."
"Then why don't you use magic?"
"I have explained to you about the indiscriminate use of magic."
"But this is an emergency!"
"Not yet it isn't. Let them cool down and they may see the folly of their thoughts. To let them know unnecessarily that we have magic is like taking out a purse full of gold and expecting them not to be influenced by the prospects in their favour."
"Why couldn't I do magic? I am so angry, I just wanted to hurt them."
"Precisely, you were angry. Remember young lad, you need to have discipline to have control."
Welcome smells of the morning meal wafted through the open windows. Brock raised his head and inhaled deeply of the tempting aromas.
"Well they are waiting for us to get hungry and I'm already hungry, so what happens now? And I'm very uncomfortable with these ropes!"
The ropes were strong and coarse and cut into their skin. Zebulon became silent and maintained a concentrated expression. Presently Brock felt a sensation pass through his body, similar to the charge he sometimes felt when performing magic, and the ropes loosened from around him. Both he and Zebulon stepped free of their bonds. The wizard gave Brock a knowing look.
"Will we make a run for it?" he asked Zebulon.
"No, we'll sit here and wait for their return. I don't want to be on the run for something I didn't do."
They sat on a nearby log and nibbled on some nuts and dried fruit that Brock had stowed in his pocket.
Benjamin was the first to return. Seeing his prisoners unbound and Brock wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, obviously having just eaten, the man's jaw dropped open and his eyebrows shot up. "What?" he exclaimed.
Zebulon gave him a stern look and stood up so that he had the advantage of his greater height. "Your men didn't do as good a job at tying as they thought they had. However, you can see we have not fled. You have made the wrong assumptions and accused us of a crime we didn't commit. We will help you if we can, but we require that you treat us with the same respect we have given you."
The authority in Zebulon's voice gave Benjamin pause to think and he stood for a long moment rubbing his chin and staring at the two.
Finally he said, "Perhaps we were too hasty. If you are, as you say, innocent, then I apologise. We will give you the benefit of the doubt, but we will be watching you closely."
As he finished speaking, other men arrived and were equally surprised to see the captives free. They began grumbling and cursing until Benjamin held up his hand and advised them of the circumstances. Having had their breakfast, most were in a more reasonable frame of mind but some still growled. Fortunately Benjamin, through the power of his personality held sway over most of the men. Something in Zebulon's manner also held them in check. It didn't stop Gamble from making a fuss and wishing a curse on the whole community and their families for several generations.
The men made haste to gather up implements that would serve as weapons. No offer was made to give Zebulon or Brock any, or to offer them a meal. Two pretty young girls, feeling sorry for the wrongly accused, shyly offered them a platter on which were some large chunks of sourdough bread and cold meats, and some interesting looking fruit muffins.
Zebulon accepted the offered nourishment with a solemn nod of thanks, while Brock engaged in chatter about the muffins as more girls and young women joined the first two. Some of the men growled but they were ignored, the women and girls being far more inclined to see fairness.
Brock’s leisurely enjoyment was shortened as the wizard placed a hand on his neck and firmly encouraged him to move along.
Coming to the yard where the horses had been penned, it was easy to see where the fence had been cut. The men followed the clear tracks made by the robbers' horses and the stolen ones.
"It's no use," said Benjamin after they had tracked for hours. "They will have long gone."
The prints of the horses hooves had become indistinct as the surrounding ground became harder.
"The old elf, Morcion, lives in a shack near here, maybe he has seen something," suggested one of the men.
Shortly they came to a humble but well kept shack surrounded by gardens, as well as fruit and nut trees. The owner was obviously industrious. Brock's eye was travelling over the inviting feast of plum red tomatoes when suddenly Morcion raised himself up from behind a nearby shrub, small spade in his hand. Quickly he stooped and plucked one of the biggest tomatoes and with a broad grin, handed it to Brock.
"One can not deny a reward to someone so appreciative of fine foods." His shrewd eyes moved quickly over the rest of the gathering, recognising the men from the village before coming to rest on Zebulon. "What are you doing here Zebulon?"
The men looked on in some confusion and embarrassment as the old elf leapt forwa
rd and flung his arms around Zebulon. The wizard grabbed Morcion and lifted him off the ground as though he was a child. Brock watched with amusement.
"You don't look a day older than when I last saw you," said Zebulon.
"Not a day younger either! But you, you are still such a young one still" said Morcion as his feet touched solid ground once more.
Benjamin cleared his throat. He knew Morcion was an individual with keen awareness. If the robbers had passed by, he would know. "Morcion", he said with a certain deference towards the old elf, "did you see any men come past here with horses?"
"Early this morning, yes. They looked a nasty lot, though they pretended to treat me with respect. They wanted food and water."
"They stole our horses during the night."
"It seemed to me they were up to mischief. I overheard them say they were going on to Carsdale to sell some horses. They thought I was a bit deaf...don't know what gave them that idea." Morcion's eyes twinkled and crunched up at the corners.
It was agreed they turn back. Zebulon and Brock to collect their belongings and new supplies, and the men to plan a journey into Carsdale to see the law enforcement officer. Morcion disappeared into his small hut and came out with a package which he handed to Benjamin. "Here is the trinket for your daughter."
Benjamin unwrapped the package to reveal an exquisitely crafted bracelet. "Thank you, it is beautiful. She will love it. I will bring payment tomorrow."
"This village makes the best wine around these parts," Morcion explained to Zebulon and Brock, He smacked his lips in anticipation.
"That's why we need our horses so we can take the wine and other produce to sell in Carsdale," Benjamin told them.
"You'll return here to visit with me before continuing on?" Morcion asked Zebulon.
"The day will be well spent by the time we pass here again. Maybe we can spend the night."
Morcion rubbed his hands with pleasure. He enjoyed his solitude and did not encourage too many visits but he liked the villagers and he had pleasure in seeing Zebulon.
"I will expect you for dinner then."
Returning to the village, Zebulon quickly arranged the purchase of their supplies while Brock packed their belongings. They made their farewells on reasonable terms, many of the men apologising and even Gamble mumbled a shamefaced apology. The girls offered Brock sweet smiles and some of the ladies fluttered their eyelids at Zebulon. Benjamin's eldest son, Conner, was to join them at Morcion's hut in the morning and accompany them to Carsdale to see the law officer there.
Morcion had a delicious meal ready for them when they returned. The old elf, who had taken a fancy to Brock, particularly enjoyed watching him as he devoured the food with such obvious enjoyment.
"So how is my brother?" asked Morcion.
"He is content. You should go and visit him," replied Zebulon.
"It is many years. He should visit me. He is the one with the magic, he could blink himself here."
"He is old. I don't think he has the energy for that amount of effort."
"Well, maybe I'll make a trip soon. Haven't left these parts for a long time. So what brings you here?"
"We are following the trail of Theron."
"Now there was a great wizard!"
"You knew him?" Brock asked in wonder.
Morcion threw back his head and laughed. "I may be old, but not that old!"
Brock was embarrassed and stammered an apology.
"No need to worry, young one. I'm not easily offended. After a moment of quiet reminiscing he continued. "My grandfather knew him when he was very old. My grandfather passed on many of the stories to Kareem and me. That is the reason Kareem became interested in learning magic. And I became interested in mining and making trinkets. Has Kareem still got Theron's pendant, Zebulon?"
"He passed it on to me."
"I trust you take good care of it."
"Of course." Zebulon was silent after that and it was left to Morcion and Brock to liven the evening. Brock asked many questions and listened in rapture as Morcion told colourful stories of the "old days."
"After Theron found the ruby his beloved gave him a beautiful rich green stone."
"The peridot?"
"Yes. Have you seen it?"
"Zebulon has told me about it."
"It was after she gave the peridot to him that he decided to make the pendant. The pendant is very valuable and famous. I'm surprised that my brother has given it to someone as young and hot headed as Zebulon."
Brock found the Morcion's description of the great wizard very amusing. He looked across at Zebulon to see how he had reacted to it. The wizard sat back in the chair, is eyelids closed as in sleep, but a twitch played around the corners of his mouth so Brock knew he was enjoying the discourses of the old elf.
Conner must have left the village before dawn because he arrived at the hut as Zebulon and Brock had finished preparing the horses for the journey. Zebulon had distributed the baggage so that Conner could ride one of the horses. He was a pleasant young man, about Brock's height but was more heavily built owing to the day to day work on the farm.
The sun was disappearing behind the horizon, leaving the sky splashed with pinks and purple as the three rode into town. They headed straight for the major inn in the centre of Carsdale and after depositing their belongings in a rented room, arranged for the horses to be stabled, then set out for the law office. Conner had wanted to question the people at the stables to see if there had been some strangers in town who had extra horses but Zebulon advised against it until they had spoken to the law officer.
They found Carsdale's law enforcer seated behind a cluttered desk. He was a big man, broad shouldered and with a no nonsense manner about him. He knew Conner, having seen him many times with Benjamin and also being a satisfied customer of the village's fine wine. This made it easier for them to explain their problem.
"Yes five men had come into town bringing with them six horses. They are right now arranging the sale of five horses to one of the farmers," stated the law man.
"They are ours, we have to stop them," said Conner.
As they approach the yards where the sale took place, they saw five men in the distance, riding with haste. Conner was perplexed, for the horses sold to the farmer were not his. It was quickly realised by the law officer that the cunning men had sold their own five horses, thereby being able to show proof of ownership, and had taken the six stolen horses.
Arrangements were quickly being made to follow after them, though it was doubted that they would catch them. Brock felt a sensation run through him and knew magic had been used. He glanced at Zebulon whose face was passive, but as everyone watched in amazement, the five horsemen with an extra horse on a lead, rode back into town. It may not have seemed so odd except the men were desperately trying to reign the horses in and head them back in the direction from whence they had been travelling. But the horses had their own agenda and would not be stilled until they stood in front of their happy owner.
The thieves tried to make a run for it but they stumbled and were quickly overpowered by the law officer and a few hearty farm hands. Having no idea of Zebulon's involvement in the easy return of the horses, Conner was pleased he would be returning to the village with them and bade a friendly farewell to Zebulon and Brock the following morning.