Visitors - Part 2

Riding upriver, the caravan led on by the ragged band of rangers and the wagons behind them looked visibly comforted to at last be in friendly territory. Trees dotted the flattening landscape around them, lazily shading the riverbank and gently waving in the cool winds over their heads. Farmers worked their fields, fields owned by House Herrsan so close to the count's own estate, taking care of their summer crops that grew surprisingly well in the cool natured world of Savarica. The white and blue-tinted hills around them, always around them, dotted the Savarican landscape in every direction, and even the mountains themselves looming up in the distance. Boats and river craft floated or sailed quickly up and down the massive river itself out in its glittering current, mostly flying the colors of blue and silver.
Christopher's face moved in a slight, amused smile as he pulled back his hood to enjoy the more gentle air of Savarica, as opposed to the rough wilds he had fought his way through in the past months.
"They keep these waters patrolled, don't they?"
He turned in the saddle. He had ridden a little ahead of the caravan, and turning, he could see the wagons and his own small ranger band guiding them on the road, some distance behind him, looking tired but content to be through their journey.
Except for the blue and white stranger, who had apparently ridden up beside him, half smiling. Christopher raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard him ride up, and usually he caught those things.
The blue and white colored traveler repeated his question, speaking in a friendly enough tone. "They keep that river watched, don't they?"
Christopher glanced about as if making sure he was the one being addressed by this man he had led across half the wild world to this small mountain nation hidden away in the far north, and nodded coolly.
"These waters belong to Count Chace of House Herrsan." He replied after a moment, as if that explained it all. "House Herrsan has a reputation for keeping their...estates well watched. Since the largest of the Savarica houses, and the more greedy of the five, House Davardi, is their nearest neighbor, that makes Herrsan geographically the gateway for greedy Davardi invaders to the rest of Savarica." He paused, looking out at the heavy craft on the river.
"This land wasn't always united, even after it was civilized." He added, as if as an afterthought.
After a moment, the middle-aged companion nodded, and looked ahead.
"What's that?" He pointed ahead, upriver.
Christopher turned and narrowed his eyes, looking ahead. "House Herrsan."
The house of the count himself sat just a short distance away, its parapets and walls shadowing the road from there, and its silvery towers glittering in the dying sunlight. "We'll be staying the night there. In the morning the caravan will be heading out towards the capital of Savarica, Ilelphosta. We're on the last leg of the journey, sir...?" He looked over at this inquisitive stranger.
The other looked at him for a moment, before recognizing the gesture. "OH, yes...I am Asa. At least, you may call me Asa." He added warmly, the kindly smile and friendly gray eyes still watching. Despite his warm appearance, the brightly colored stranger still had an air of dangerous power about him, especially from the heavy longsword that hung at his side and the shield on his back. An experienced edge in the tanned face of the middling man gave him away as an experienced traveler as well.
Christopher nodded cordially. "Christopher." He replied in return.


When they reached the outer gatehouse of the keep itself, which was spread out in a large clearing by the riverside, they made their way out of the shady bank wood and onto the larger surrounding fields, towards the main gate. A hail went up from the walls, apparently expected, and Christopher reached up and waved back in a return. The other stranger, Asa, watched him coolly, his tanned, hardened but kind face observing in interest. The wagons and weary caravan of travelers made their way out into the clearing, and there was the distant sound of chains rolling and wood creaking. The southern gates were opening.
Asa studied the walls carefully, with a practiced eye. "It looks like a strong house." He muttered. Christopher nodded.
"One of the strongest."


Count Chace himself was waiting when they rode in through the gates, the band of rangers and their weary charges, a few of the Herrsan workmen appeared from the various barracks and inside the house to help, as the wagons rolled wearily in and stopped here and there in the courtyard. Tired but happy, the men, women and children appeared from the wagons or got off their horses, moving to mess with their goods and possessions or prepare to set up a camp. Guards moved through the little ragtag stopped caravan, trying to being a little order to the mess or helping with the more or less able. Their own task done, Christopher's rangers rode off to the front, happy to be done for the day as they dismounted a little bit apart from the rest, to stroke down their mounts and perhaps take a bite to eat. With a groaning clang of metal and wood, the great gates of House Herrsan closed behind them, pulled by half a dozen men in silver and blue.
"Well, I've seen worse." Chace grinned grimly to himself as he strode out of the smaller exit doors of the inner keep itself, onto the courtyard. "Tired, weary people in need of a few warm fires and some good provisions." Hands on his sides, he stopped and surveyed the muddled caravan, a guard at each shoulder behind him. After a moment's observation, he turned to the men behind him.
"Hoy, you, go and have someone bring up...oh, a dozen? A dozen, then. A dozen crates of provisions to hand out among them, we had an over harvest anyway last year...and perhaps enough wood for a few large fires in the courtyard. These folk can put it to use, no doubt." Both guards bowed and rushed off, back into the keep behind them, as the count turned again and strode towards the caravan.
The sounds of families talking and working, men and women calling out as they set up their little camp, and children screaming or running about in play filled the count's ears as he made his way mostly unnoticed through the mess. His own men and guards tried to bring a little order here and there, mostly unsuccessful. These people had lived on their own for long enough that such things as orders were unnecessary.
"Hoy, Count?" A unfamiliar voice called out from the dull din, catching the sharp-eyed count's attention. He turned, to see a ragged, gray-cloaked ranger weaving his way through the confusion towards the noble count. His golden hair could be seen easily towering over the heads of the other tired human beings around him. Chace noted idly the slender sword at his side, half hidden under the cloak, and longbow upon his back.
Chace waited for him to reach him, and when Christopher bobbed him a polite nod, the count sighed as if in annoyance, though he was in a perfectly good mood.
"Yes?"
"Count Chace, I believe?"
"Yes."
The ranger bowed. "I am Christopher, guide of this caravan."
"Yes?"
"I wanted to thank you for putting them up for the night, me and my men, and our charges here."
"Yes, certainly."
"I wished to ask, can we have some food supplies and water? We have gold to pay, don't worry of that, Count..."
"Yes."
"Thank you, we appreciate it." The ranger smiled. "I also wanted to ask one other small favor of your house, lord count."
"Yes?"
"Should we be gone in the morning, can you put the caravan on the right road to Ilelphosta? My rangers may head north from here."
"Yes, I can do that."
"Thank you." Apparently finished now that he had gotten to and made his point briskly enough, the ranger flashed him a quick bow and turned to leave.
A sudden thought crossed the count's mind. "Hey, hold for a minute!"
Christopher turned, brow raised in question.
The count considered for a moment. "You're not leading these people on to the city?" He asked, studying the ranger carefully.
The ranger shook his head. "No, they can easily make their way from here. They have no need for guard and guide now, we might head north for more work from here."
"Oh." The count considered this for a moment also. "Work?"
"Yes, Count Herrsan." The neigh of a nearby horse and the creaking of a wagon rolling past to a more suitable spot filled their ears for a moment. A child ran past shouting.
"You're in need of work? You and your band?"
Christopher smiled grimly. "It's always nice to have."
"I'm sure." Chace chuckled, "Well then, suppose I hired you on? Herrsan can always use a few good men, especially veteran travelers used to wilderness like you and your type." He offered what he hoped was a kinder-than-usual look.
This stopped the ranger for a moment. He seemed to think this over for a moment behind his blue-green gaze. "...I'll talk it over with my men."
"Excellent!" Chace broke out into a smile. "Do that, will you? The provisions I'll send up directly!"
Christopher nodded. "Thank you count." After another bow, he turned and strode off, quickly lost as he weaved his way expertly through the gentle human confusion.

Visitors

"I told you that it wouldn't hold water worth a wooden pail if you put on that wretched stuff!" The count ranted. Several of the nearby river sailors, boat captains and hired men glanced up with mixed smiles of amusement and worry. This was typical Count Chace routine, and besides, he rarely meant it as harshly as it appeared.
With a look of annoyance and perhaps a faint twist of a grim smile, the count of House Herrsan studied critically the two ships floating lazily out in the deep river before him, for where he stood on the stone and metal pier just off shore. His house, House Herrsan, loomed up glinting silver and blue in the late sunlight of the day, as the sun took up a lazy position in the western sky, as if growing tired of the day itself. The never-ending wind was still blowing across the fields and jagged hills around on Chace's fief lands, though a little more warm and gentle on the river. Sparkling in the fairly warm afternoon (as far as Savarica summers went), the river the mainly fed Lake Imirad flowed gently past, cold and fresh. A few water birds cried overhead, and the usual sounds of the docks and men and ships working and sailing, upriver or down, on their way both ways. River traffic was heavy between Lake Japhethis and Imirad, and to the dismay of some and glee of others, House Herrsan owned the greater part of the river that flowed between. Something that every, quick-thinking, clever count of Herrsan had taken full advantage of. Chace was no exception. A large portion of the land's strength in gold was backed by his river.
"I told you, it was never going to work with that calking!" He went on, generally loudly informing both everyone and no one. The trees back on the bank behind him waved gently in the breeze, though farmer's fields bordered the riverbank on both sides other then House Herrsan's own riverfront. "Now it will have to all be redone! And soon...that council in Davardi takes place in two weeks" He seemed to think for a moment. "Not that I'm in any hurry to get to that blasted mess..." He chuckled, "I doubt anyone is."
"My lord!" A small rowboat, from the nearest of the two small river ships, one of Count Chace's personal sailing vessels, suddenly hailed him. A few men sat in the bow of the boat, rowing for the green shore where the Count stood muttering and calculating.
Chace looked up sharply from the polished stone landing. "What? Eh?"
"The skiff is just a little slow and unstable, my lord, though the caravel holds nicely!" A larger man, probably one of the shipsmen, called out to him across the water with his hands cupped to his mouth. He seemed pleased enough.
This seemed to slacken the count's nerves somewhat. He grunted. "Good enough for the caravel, then...decent. But I'll have that skiff of mine fixed before the week is out! You hear me? Or I tell you I won't give you a copper for the sorry job that fellow did." Apparently satisfied his hired sailors had gotten the message, he nodded grimly as the rowboat turned about and began to row steadily back towards the royal skiff.
After a moment's thought, the count raised his own hands to his mouth. "HEY!"
The rowboat abruptly stopped and the leading man nearly fell out in his eagerness to turn and listen.
"Hoist the blue and silver banner up on both of them!" Chace smiled grimly. The boat captain nodded and they turned about again, back for the two under-construction ships.
"My lord?" A new voice broke into the count's thoughts, as he calculated how much gold he could make off of river traffic that week while still being fair and decent.
Chace whirled about quickly, his slender, serious gaze fixing on another man, a messenger, who had been waiting at his shoulder while he had dealt with the sailors.
His eyes narrowed. "What?" Leaning up against one of the landing supports on the stone and metal driven dock, he adjusted his his tunic and cloak as he listened to whatever report this man had to offer.
"Sir, a caravan had arrived from the south." The man said abruptly, his eyes rolled up as if trying to remember a memorized list. "Led by a ranger clan, they're on this side of the river and are requesting housing for the night here. They offer payment."
The count looked up sharply when a foreign caravan was mentioned. That was news indeed. An eyebrow raised.
"From the south routes?"
"Yes, my lord." The messenger coughed.
This time it took the count a moment to realize what he was asking. "OH! Well, oh yes, certainly, they can stay, and forget the payment. Tell 'em we can put up a caravan for the night, certainly." He smiled warmly.
"Yes, my lord. I will." The young messenger youth paused for a moment, and seemed about to say something more, when the count snorted.
"Get going then! You can come back after you've done that and report whatever you forgot!"
"Right away my lord!" The messenger set out at a breakneck pace off into the trees and towards the House Herrsan.