Merchant and Empire by Alma T. C. Boykin

Author:Alma T. C. Boykin [Boykin, Alma T. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-07T07:00:00+00:00

7

Moahne Calls

At least the wind from their backs drove the scent of wet ovstrala ahead of them. Fewer beasts plodded behind him than went before, and drenched ovstrala charmed neither the nose nor the eye. Too, the rain did not carry ice in it, as happened so often this early in the year. Wet and almost-warm was greatly to be preferred over wet and freezing. Ankle deep mud, however, remained ankle deep mud no matter the temperature or season. Instead of thudding, the beasts steps splashed and slurped. They'd have spread out if they could, but fields crowded the road in this region.

Camping out did not improve the mood of Tycho's road-mates. Sleeping in the open in the wet did not please him or his stiff shoulder, but the northmen acted worse than wet house-cats. Hugan and the other large felines sulked in the wagons under cover. The humans grumbled more than even the ovstrala, making Tycho appear frivolously cheerful in comparison.

"How much more of this, Master Tycho?" Andrus, a courier, demanded as they walked along.

"This mud, this rain, or this road?" Tycho smiled at the sour expression he got in return. "This mud will last until the road dries, so six, seven days after the rain ends. The rain? Will last at least until after dark. Then it might be dry tomorrow, or it might continue for days more. The road ends at the sea, at least fifteen days journey from here, longer if the rain continues and we slow even more."

Profound dismay all but radiated from the courier the way a bonfire radiated heat. "Even slower, Master Tycho?"

"Aye." Tycho nodded to the rutted, hoof-holed way ahead of them. "This is slow but not so bad yet. When the mud deepens until it reaches the axels, then we go slowly indeed. Two, three miles a day at most if we have to push the heavy wagons, or add all the spare teams to them. You try to go faster, you start killing beasts. Yoorst won't tolerate that," he warned. Neither would he, and he'd hitch all his birds to the wagon and go home if they tried. Traveling with the emperor as an extra set of common eyes was not worth killing his great-haulers. Radmar would have to wait his turn until after Yoorst and Maarsrodi both finished with him, should Tycho be so foolish.

"It's like breaking a way through snow," Trollanus said from beside Tycho. "There are limits to what we can ask of the beasts and ourselves, aye?"

"Aye." The courier sounded reluctant. "Never traveled in deep new snow with beasts, only on skis or snow-shoes."

"Snow more than knee deep on the does, you send two ahead without a wagon to start breaking a trail. If it gets chest deep? Stop."

Tycho wondered if that were chest-deep on the ovstrala or chest-deep on the men. What sort of emergency would require a body to go out in that sort of snow? Wise men stayed home and waited for it

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