Wool of the Prince-- Chapter 19

They rose early the next morning to get on the trail to the mountains in the south. It would be colder there, so Shep had Jay buy a set of warm clothing: thick socks, tough pants, and a fur-lined coat that flared out a little and went down to his knees. They couldn’t have been inexpensive, and Jay marveled at how Shep seemed to produce money almost out of thin air. But Jay thought he cut quite a dashing figure in his new coat, so he didn’t say anything.

The trolls claimed their internal body temperature was always stabilized, and the only thing they would need in the snow was a little extra food to keep their energy up. Shep had been planning on sheering the sheep, but now he decided to let them keep their wool. Shep packed up some extra food—he said it cost less here than on the road, where shop-keeps knew travelers were desperate—and they set off on their journey south.

Except they didn’t go south; not right away, at least. “Sometimes you have to go backwards to go forwards,” Shep said, as they sailed northward on the river on which they had traveled to Roma. “This river forks up north a bit, and if we take the eastern fork this time, it will lead us to Staruvia,” he said, but when he saw Jay’s look of unrecognition, added, “the province we’re going to travel through to get to the Icy South.”

Jay nodded. Sailing was easier than walking. He knew that for certain. Though ever since Cabot had kidnapped him and Fleta, Jay was wary of anyone on deck whose smile was a little too wide.

The journey was a long one, and the river was a slow and sometimes shallow one. Jay amused himself by playing Which Road with the trolls. When he grew tired of that, he would chat with the sailors, and watch them work. Through asking enough questions to get half the crew avoiding him, Jay had learned a bit of sailing. This was no river barge, this was a genuine sail boat. The captain said he wouldn’t ordinarily sail this kind of boat down this sort of river, but the boat itself was cargo. A rich man down south had paid a lot of money for it, but he expected for it to arrive at his door. Jay asked why the man wanted a sailboat when there was no suitable place to sail it, but the captain only shrugged.

Sometimes Jay caught Shep staring out over the river. He would stand, just watching, at the side of the boat for hours. His shoulders rocked perfectly in time with the waves, almost as if he was a part of the river himself. It even looked like some of the river mist dwelled in his eyes. His mind was miles away, Jay supposed it was in the hollow courts of Gozgarden. He obviously had some sort of attachment to the place. Once, Jay caught him singing.

A twilight dream on the Tamberet
The waters stream on the Tamberet
Fish scales gleam on the Tamberet
A Moonlight beam on the Tamberet
A lady screams on the Tamberet
On the Tamberet

The sunset’s red on the Tamberet
A cozy bed on the Tamberet
Lay down your head on the Tamberet
They’re floating dead on the Tamberet
You’re casket’s lead on the Tamberet
On the Tamberet

There’s ne’er a flood on the Tamberet
Just sinking blood on the Tamberet
On the Tamberet.

Jay’s blood turned cold at the eerie tune the song wore like a cloak. He knew from one of the sailors that the river they were on was called the Tamberet. That night, Jay had nightmares of heads floating in pools of blood.

Jay was thankful that Shep didn’t sing at all for the rest of the time they were on the river. He didn’t want to hear any more horror stories of the river. It was bad enough by itself.

Jay couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was wrong with the river. He couldn’t see any floating heads or blood, and he didn’t hear any screams, but something inside him felt off. This river felt unnatural. Once he thought he saw a reflection of a big black dragon in the water, but when he looked into the sky, nothing was there but gray clouds. Jay concluded he needed more sleep, and spent most of the rest of the journey in his cabin.

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Jay’s first step off the boat landed him in calf-deep muck. The boat couldn’t sail any further south, so Jay, Shep, and the trolls got off at Port Dollywagger. It wasn’t much of a port at all, just a part of the Tamberet that had slightly more dirt than water. Jay could see a few lighted windows a little ways away, but the short distance quickly seemed to grow when every step he took seemed to weigh 20 pounds. By the time they reached completely solid ground, Jay felt like he had taken an entire garden’s worth of soil with him.

Shep led them to an inn where the inn keeper shoed them right to the bath house in the back. Jay figured they must get a lot of travelers looking like they did. The trolls seemed to enjoy the mud, and seemed a little saddened to wash it off.

“I was startin’ to like this stuff,” said Gilfred. Godfrey grunted his agreement.

When they came back looking fresh and clean, the inn keeper put on a much more polite face and asked them what they needed.

“A room for the night, dinner, breakfast, and some information,” Shep said gruffly.

The inn keeper was intrigued by this. “What kind of information?” the old man asked. He had a rotund belly and dark eyes that seemed like they could never focus on one thing for too long or something else might move. He polished glass after glass, not even noticing that they were all clean. The inn was practically empty.

“We just want to know if anything… strange has been going on in these parts,” replied Shep.

The inn keeper eyed Shep for a long moment, trying to decide if he was trustworthy or not. His shifty eyes took in the trolls in their loin cloths, the blankets stacked on Shep’s back, his shiny bald head, and his long gray beard, which still had a little bit of dried mud still stuck in it. “No.” He said. He had evidently decided that no, Shep was not trustworthy.

Jay expected Shep to cajole some information out of the inn keeper with his witty charms, but Shep just nodded.

“How much for the room and meals?” asked Shep.

The inn keeper scrutinized Shep again as if deciding how much money Shep had, and how much of it he would be willing to part with. “Two silver orbs,” he answered in a nasally voice.

Even Jay knew that price was practically robbery.

“Five degas,” Shep said coolly. Jay gaped. Even that was twice the amount they would pay for a room and breakfast at a place like this.

The inn keeper smiled a cruel smile, sure that he had Shep right where he wanted him. He knew that five degas was an outrageous price only a fool would pay for a night at an inn. “Eight degas.”

“Two degas,” responded Shep. Jay scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. Then he saw a sparkle in Shep’s eyes, and decided to wait until this all played out.

The inn keeper was confused too. “Now wait a minute. Before you offered five degas! Now just two? You can’t do that!”

“I gave you an offer, and you didn’t accept. So I gave you another offer. Seven drubbles.”

“But I wanted you to go higher! Not lower! If you don’t give me those five Degas, you can very well sleep somewhere else.” the inn keeper persisted.

“Three drubbles and a free breakfast. Or we will go down the street and see what that cozy little house with the chimney would charge us to stay.”

The inn keep growled. He looked everywhere except for Shep for a moment, as if he couldn’t quite find him, then locked eyes and spat, “Fine.”

Shep slid the pyramids of metal across the counter, and doffed an imaginary hat. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

The inn keeper just moaned in response.

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Dinner that night was cold. Jay had no doubt it was done out of spite by the inn keeper. Jay enjoyed in nonetheless. Soup was always his favorite thing to eat at inns. There were so many different kinds. Every inn had its own specialty soup. They all tasted so exotic, the spices, the vegetables, the thick broths...

The beds that night were hard, but not uncomfortable. They didn’t have bedbugs—though Jay supposed the inn keeper ha probably entertained the idea of putting something unmentionable between the sheets. Jay slept all night.

In the morning, breakfast was hot, and Shep was chatting idly with the inn keeper. It was almost as if they had been best friends their whole lives instead of enemies last night.

Apparantly, in the middle of the night thieves had tried to break into the inn. Shep had heard the commotion and rushed to see what was happening. He saw a man holding the inn keeper against the wall, pinning him there while his buddy grabbed the money kept behind the counter. Shep rushed in, brandishing his shepherd’s cane, and walloped both men until they ran off without the money.

After this event, the inn keeper suddenly found it within him to “forgive” Shep for getting a good deal.