On the road: 1

Arthur spent the evening alone. He didn't care about being cold and miserable. Now he had proof that the official reports about Otherworld were less than accurate. If flora and fauna were identical, then that was somehow fine. Parallel universe, magic or divine intervention. If it was only partially identical, well that opened a totally different array of possibilities, and he fully understood why the government wanted to keep the lid on it for as long as possible. What Harbend called eagle had never existed on Earth, but most everything else was familiar. What if the finding of the Gate hadn't been first contact at all?

He needed to check his translations more carefully now, and observe more closely what he saw around him. The journey turned out to have more surprises than he'd thought from the beginning. After all he'd fled from pain rather than starting on a journey of exploration.

Arthur studied his notepad where he'd written down his observations. Now he did have a deadline. The power cells would last him a year, maybe a couple of months more if he was careful. After that everything he'd written down would be gone until he could lay his hands on a power source unless he started to make paper copies.

Plants, the thought sparked a nagging memory in him. Adding species could also mean subtracting them. Cotton! He remembered complaining about the lack of decent underwear. Of course cotton might grow unused, but they did have silk after all, even though what looked like silk could just as well come from some kind of spider for all he knew. He sighed. Too many guesses and too little real knowledge. Besides he was getting tired from reading and writing in the poor light of his wagon.

He stripped, hung his wet clothes on a pole running the entire length of the wagon just beneath the waxed cloth covering it, and crept into the bedroll he bought in Roadbreak. Damn Harbend, planning a camping trip without buying a bedroll. Almost as if he'd been preparing for some kind of strange survival exercise.

#

Again days came and went, two eightdays in total, and Arthur, true to himself, made an effort watching what grew, flew and walked in the landscape. He still wasn't sure about plants and trees, but most animals previously unknown to him turned out to have wings with the exception of a large six legged lizard brought in for food.

He spent a couple of hours each day trying to talk with the drivers and the men in the escort, but he made most progress with mother and daughter Termend. They weren't as preoccupied as the rest, apart from when Chaijrild had cooking duty of course, and Lianin showed real interest in his questions. One even led to her taking up part of her old occupation as well. A complaint rather than a question, if he was honest, and recognizing an opportunity in the absence of taverns she converted one of her wagons into one.

Knowledge is good for business, she once explained to him with the help of Harbend. Arthur liked them both, even though he found Chaijrild to be just a little bit too much of a flirt, but he gave her the rights of youth.

The caravan passed through the entire length of Vimarin. They never saw anything larger than a village, but also very little real wilderness. Almost always farmed land was close by with the main difference from Keen being fewer horses and oxen used as beasts of burden instead.

The dry yellow of late summer gave way to glittering gold and red of autumn. Then the landscape changed again, small groves in the open farmland became forests as they crossed yet another border.

#

"Camp's silent tonight," Trindai noted.

"It's the trees," Kalvar said.

"Not much in the way of forests back home, unless you count the plantations around Krante."

"Sir?"

"You didn't know? It's all planted. Most forests in Erkateren are as well, but there's a bastards lot more of it here."

Major Terwin shrugged, but Trindai saw the discomfort in his eyes. He sympathized with his officer. Apart from a few missions on the Ming peninsula he had little enough experience with forested terrain himself. A few men under his command, all scouts of course, were familiar with the absence of free sight. They came in handy when rooting out troublemakers, but this was an escort mission and he didn't expect to hunt down reluctant taxpayers or some hothead who'd inherited grand delusions together with a title when a family elder died in one of Keen's client states.

Stupid way of running things. Hereditary rights. Keen made away with the idiocy over seven eightyears earlier.

"Darkness cursed work crossing the mountains," Kalvar said, interrupting Trindai's thoughts.

"Berdaler's squadron will help, and we're hiring more men in Ri Khi."

"We need more than two squadrons, sir?"

"With the political bribe accompanied with a choice set of lies we sent to Ri Nachi, yes," Trindai answered.

"Sir, that was a little more information than I needed."

Trindai growled. "Think like a commander, not like an officer! If I choke on the piss they call wine here you're responsible for seeing this charade safely to Braka and back."

"Right, sir!" Kalvar straightened, but he was smiling. "No one's listening, so spit it all out," Kalvar demanded, "sir," he added almost as an afterthought.

Trindai grinned back and started explaining. He'd give Major Berdaler the same information when they had some time alone.

#

Maybe Erkateren wasn't less populated than Vimarin, but with fewer farms and more woodlands it filled them with a sense of desolation. It was with some relief they reached the first of the towns along the road. They saw it after reaching a crest from where the road gently sloped downwards to open ground. The forest opened up and in the middle of a wide valley before them a walled town sat hugging a narrow river. A few stone houses rose above two stories wooden buildings that were in majority. The wall itself was more of a wooden stockade than a proper city wall, and Arthur guessed the town only housed a few thousand.

Really nothing more than an oversized village.

As they came closer he saw that people here favored leather and wool rather than the ever-present linen and occasional silk he was used to from Verd.

Their presence caused great stirring here as well, but by now Arthur was used to it, and they needed to draw as much attention as possible or they would have to spend an extra day searching for traders. Now the traders would come looking for them instead.

Passing the gates and entering narrow streets Arthur was first surprised to see them unpaved. Soon enough the ever present smell of manure told him the futility of such an effort. The magical cleanliness of Verd seemed more and more like a distant dream, and he noted the total absence of lampposts. That probably translated into the need of being indoors after dark, especially as the day was overcast. He didn't want to stumble along the streets with only his hands as eyes.

Inside the city walls he got a better view of the people strolling around the streets. Some of them looked old and bent, but he had traveled too much not to recognize the signs of hard work and what it did to the body if health care was lacking. He guessed them to be not much more than sixty, or even less. Hygiene, it had to be the stark contrast in cleanliness compared to Verd that did it. The town was dirty in a way he couldn't have imagined if he hadn't seen, or rather smelled, it for himself.

He decided against strolling through the streets on his own and followed Harbend to an inn after they managed to get their animals stabled. It was built like the road inns they visited while still in Keen. A tavern in the bottom floor, behind stairs leading up to a narrow corridor feeding small rooms on the second floor. Dirtier than he remembered the road inns to be, but after long weeks on the road still a very welcome change having a real room with solid walls and a bed to sleep in.

The woodwork, though, was magnificent. Walls, doors, everything of wood finely crafted, and his hopes for the furniture they were to buy here later soared. Someone must have put a lot of effort in finding wood already shaped as they wanted it, because he saw almost no seams anywhere.

There was no bathhouse, but with the help of Harbend he managed to find a bathtub in the backyard, and as darkness fell they'd all taken turns in it to the great amusement of the stable boys.