DARIAN TRAVELS.

"Alika's journal - letters to Darian"



Chapter 1: The Departure - Road to Sardar

As the first light of dawn painted the eastern sky in hues of pink and gold and long shadows cast about the yard, I locked and barred my front door. For a moment I stood back to say farewell and give blessings of safe keeping to my lovely farmhouse for the few days that I will be away. I wasn't worried though. Elisha's father has said that he would keep an eye on the place while we were gone. It was also wonderful to share this journey with Elisha, who when I mentioned a few weeks ago now of my desire to visit the fairs once more, was all too keen to make the trip for himself. So why not share the journey together? Also I knew it would be a lot safer than going it alone.
Now, at one the outer edges of Helmutsport, with pack on my back and staff in my hand, I stepped into the lane, straightened my garments and begin walking to our rendezvous where the lane forks and the merchants muster, between the road into Helmutsport and the coastal track towards Kassau, to meet with Elisha.

Both of us have been to Sardar before although on separate occasions. The journey is not without it's dangers. Between Helmutsport on the Thassa and Sardar nestled at the foot of the Sardar mountains can pose a challenge. The safest path has always been to sail down the coast to the coast town of Cardonicus that serves as the trading hub for nearby Piedmont and from there along a well trodden path towards Tharna, past Besnit and into Sardar. Going by ship around the coast costs money that neither of us could ill-afford. Also, it puts another two days on the journey time.

There is however, a more direct route through the great northern forest. It has always been there, perhaps created years ago for merchants to serve the coastal settlements around Kassau and Helmutsport. It can be hazardous to those making the journey without protection as the great forest is the home of the Red Savages and wild forest girl tribes as well a numerous animal predators that roam within the woods. So, the path was cut through the forest for the briefest of distance where upon it meets with the river Laurius close to the city of Piedmont. The route follows the path of the Laurius until it can be forded and then joins the main merchant route from Cardonicus to Sardar.

It was Elisha's suggestion to tag along with a merchant caravan. He knew of merchants that make the journey to Piedmont. Passing through the forest as part of group that would certainly take away the dangers and would deter all but most foolhardy of aggressors. We also believed that from Piedmont we could secure passage as there would be many now heading towards Sardar for the fair. He said he would ask around the merchants in Helmutsport as to who were planning to take the forest road.

As I continued along the lane towards Helmutsport blissfully recounting the discussions of the past few days, Elisha had quietly caught up with me and has almost reached me unnoticed before I was aware of him.
"Tal, Alika!" He called out, his greeting sharply pulled my focus back into the moment. Pausing to look back, I waited for him to come closer.

Before me stood, a childhood friend and neighbour, his familiar presence, his warm smile, we paused a moment taking in each other's travelling garb, dressed as we were for the journey ahead.

"Tal Elisha." I responded mutually. "Were you successful in securing passage with any of the merchants going through the forest?" I asked.

"Indeed I was," he said with a gleeful smile. "We can travel with Cyrus. He welcomed my request and said we could be useful to him with a few tasks along the way." He added.
As Elisha spoke, I couldn't but help notice that attached to his backpack amongst other items was his long bow, that was strapped vertically to it and stood proudly, over his shoulder. I found this most reassuring. A long bow in the hands of a peasant is a formidable weapon, good for defence against adversaries as it is for hunting.
"I agreed to offer my bow in protection, and you may help out too." He went on. "His wife isn't coming along with him and the opportunity to avoid having to take care of everything was too good for him to pass over."

For my part, I was glad not to have to make the journey on foot. Being able to ride was worth the effort of doing some tasks or cooking, helping out on the trip.

As Elisha and I strolled along the lane leading towards Helmutsport, we came  upon a row of six to eight wagons stationed along the side of the road, their cargo carefully secured beneath waterproof coverings. Some of the wagons were coupled together to form duplex arrangements, a testament to the efficiency of their design. Each wagon or set was hitched to sturdy bosks and there was the group of handlers and merchants moving around tending to the animals and the wagons alike.

As we approached the line of wagons, Elisha was trying to catch sight of Cyrus amidst the group of men gathered. With a shout of recognition, he hailed Cyrus, who turned towards us and gestured for us to join him. With that, Cyrus stowed away a rope he was coiling into a lidded box affixed to the side of his wagon before welcoming us into his presence.

As Elisha and Cyrus engaged in conversation about the upcoming journey, I took a moment to survey the line of wagons that comprised the caravan.
The first thing that hits you is the sweaty, musky smell of the bosk wafted about by the swish of their tails and the deep rumble murmurs was they finish feeding and await the signal to begin moving off. The creaks and groans of the harnesses in tension with the wagons. There was more than one merchant and his wagons mustered here for the journey. It was a cooperative venture. There appeared to be ten wagons in total, with two of them paired together to form a double set. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that some of the wagons also held bales of dry grass, likely intended to feed the sizable beasts tasked with pulling the caravan eastward.

The wagons themselves were a patchwork of colours, with hues of reds, browns, and greens adorning their weathered exteriors. Each wagon bore the marks of age and use, a sign of the countless journeys they had made in service of their owners' trade. Amidst the bustling, noisy activity of the merchants and handlers preparing for departure, calling out to someone to do this or to take away that. I observed one tightening the ropes that secured the coverings to the wagon, while a woman, either a slave or freewoman busied herself with emptying a wide water buckets used to water the bosks. Once drained, the bucket was secured to the wagon for the journey ahead. As I watched the scene unfold before me, I couldn't help but marvel at what I was about to participate in, each individual playing their part in ensuring the smooth and efficient operation of the caravan.

As Elisha approached me, he gestured for me to store my pack onto Cyrus's wagon and climb up onto the seat next to Cyrus. While I began to take off my backpack, he explained that the caravan was only waiting for a few merchants and their wagons to arrive from Kassau, and they had already been spotted coming along the road from the south.

Handing over my backpack to Elisha, I watched as he deftly stowed it away next to his own belongings, nestled between the cargo and the seat board. With a warm smile, Cyrus was already seated on the right side of the wagon as I clambered up onto the seat, followed shortly by Elisha on my left. Returning Cyrus's smile, I felt a sense of familiarity and warmth as he greeted me, "Welcome, little Mistress. You've grown since I last saw you," he remarked.

I looked at him with surprise, for I would have surely remembered such a distinctive character as him. "I used to know your father," he said, sensing my puzzlement and attempting to address it. "It was a dark and sad day, the day he died," he continued, his voice tinged with a sombre tone as memories of the past washed over him.

The wagons from Kassau had arrived and had come to a halt, beyond the wagon behind ours. One of the men who I was assuming was a marshal had walked briskly past our wagon and the next to meet the men of the Kassau wagons. After a few minutes of discussion, out of earshot, he returned calling out to the handler of each wagon to make ready to move off as he moved back up the line.

"So, you are both going to the Sardar fair!" His words, changing the subject, brought a welcome shift in the conversation.
"Yes, we thought it would be a grand adventure," Elisha replied with a grin, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of the fair.

As Cyrus settled into his seat, his gaze drifting towards the line of wagons ahead, he spoke of his own journey. "Aye, I'll be traveling only as far as Piedmont," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "But the fairs, ah, they are a sight to behold. The hustle and bustle, the array of goods from far-off lands, the laughter and music filling the air—it's truly a spectacle."

Turning towards us, Cyrus's expression softened with gratitude. "I'm glad to have the company on this part of my journey," he admitted, his eyes reflecting the genuine warmth of his sentiment. "It's not often I have the pleasure of sharing the road with fellow travellers, and it makes the pasangs pass all the quicker."

As we waited for the call to move, I couldn't help but share in Cyrus's excitement. With the promise of new adventure and the camaraderie of newfound friends, the road ahead seemed filled with endless possibility.

alika co-editor