Paris & Claire.
When we last left our heroes, the city guards had questioned the taking of the cart but had accepted Paris' "hand-wave" explanation and allowed the Party to proceed (cart and all) out of the city. We had gotten no more than a half-hour away when Paris would have fallen into step with Claire and started speaking quietly.
"Claire?" Paris' quiet words could be heard above the squeaking of the cart and the hung-over moans of the sodden bard. "The questions that the guards at the gate asked about the cart and where we are going have set me thinking, and I really would like you counsel and advice. Basically, I know that you and Red and Brillig must have gone to a lot of trouble to get the cart and ox. I didn't really realize how much until the guards' questions made me realize just how rare a cart and ox must be. You must have put up quite a valuable surety for it -- and I fear that we do not have the experience and skill yet to protect that surety. I would not have your reputation sullied or have any of our other companions put at more risk than necessary, if it came down to that."
"I've been thinking ... The Font of Chaos granted many people powers -- magic, knowledge, skills. And it affected at least some places." She gestured back at the city. "The duke's city, wherever the orcs and gargoyles and heaven-knows what else came from, and, well," she shrugged, "probably other places too." She looked at the other girl. "But it didn't seem to affect things, or animals. And -- given the ruin that the evil creatures have produced on places, people, animals, and things -- well, I suspect that this cart and ox might well be considered more valuable than -- than one of us -- perhaps. It surely would have been before we got these powers, you know."
She frowned worriedly. "That's not a pleasant thought, but -- it might be true. On top of that," she gestured slightly, encompassing them both and drawing their attention down to their marching feet. "I don't know about the rest of you, but, to me, just in the past half hour it became clear that the cart and ox are slowing us down -- a lot! At this rate, it will take us 2 more days to get back to the baron's. And we have to stay on the road or risk damage to ox or cart and slowing us even more. If we were to walk it ourselves, it would only take us a day. And we could save a bit more of time, perhaps, by angling south -- the direction the Fool said that the man with the books was headed. Rather than going back to the baron's and trying to pick up a 2-day cold trail there. It's going to be hard finding the trail wherever we pick it up, though. I'm not bad at tracking now, and I know it's going to be hard."
"We possibly could do even better had we asked what place is to the south of the baron's. That might let us use our heads to deduce where the man with the books could have gone, rather than trying to track him down."
"Obviously the man with the books isn't within range of the duke's land. Otherwise he would have been picked up by the duke's men who are riding sweep -- like the ones who met us. But I don't know what place of refuge the man with the books might be seeking to the south -- and, as far as I can tell, no one else in our group thought to ask about that last night back in the city."
"If you think this reasoning is sound, what I want to propose to the group is that we turn around, go back to the city and return the ox and cart to safety. You know as well as I do that -- if we meet more orcs or any such creature, and have to fight - chances are we will have trouble defending the ox and cart and our own lives as well. One man and a couple of books don't require a cart -- and we are all strong enough to carry our own rations. A bag of potatoes each doesn't encumber us that much, does it?"
"Once we are back to the gate, we can turn the cart over to the guards. We will only have lost an hour. And we can ask the guards what lies to the south of the baron's -- without risking that tavern gossip will spread our destination before we have actually left. We'll be able to leave immediately with a better idea of our destination."
"What think you of this? Have I missed something incredibly obvious in my urge to travel quickly and with more information than we have now?"
Claire listened quietly to everything Paris had to say, though there were a few points where it seemed she forced herself not to interrupt. When it seemed Paris had wound down, she hesitated to make sure there wasn't more, then answered. "You're quite right about what you're saying. The cart was not easy to come by, though the surety for it is the Duke's."
Here Paris visibly staunched an urge to interrupt.
Claire smiled and continued. "As for my reputation, do not worry over that. These are strange times and reputations, like many other things which we took for granted, have changed as well. I do not mean to say that the Font of Chaos has given us reputations we did not previously have. But seeing and hearing what I did last night has shown me how much things have changed. It was quite...odd."
Paris looked interested but, again, said nothing.
Claire looked at the bard and shook her head slightly, then turned her attention back to Paris. "The danger seems even greater, I think, than we had previously thought. There was talk of many evil creatures, places and powers. If only a small part of the talk is based in truth, I think we need to be far more careful than we have been. The ox and cart will not be our first priority, and you are right that they will probably be lost. If we must flee from danger, the ox will not be quick enough. And I do not delude myself by thinking we will be capable of besting most dangers we may meet. Returning the cart to its owner seems a rather good idea. If the man with the books is able to carry them by himself, any he might choose to let us take we will be able to carry."
Paris nodded agreement.
"As for where he might be, I do not think the Duke's men were patrolling all of his lands, for was not our Baron part of the Duke's holding? There are not enough men to be able to patrol that far, or that expanse of ground. And one man could easily elude them if he wished. If we go back to return the cart, asking what lies to the south of the Baron's lands would be a very good idea. If the guards do not know, then we might ask at the castle."
"I wonder, though, why all of us have chosen to do this?" She glanced quickly at the bard, then back to Paris. "My own reasons I know, though it seems I have been slowly waking from a nightmare, to find that it is real. The past few days have almost the seeming of a dream to me. It is very difficult to get used to."
Paris' voice sounded a tad strangled. "If one does not take time to deal with a nightmare, one never quite gets used to it. It lurks around every corner. Last night, I think, it caught up with many of Jouet. Once they stopped running, the time had come to think and mourn and come to terms with all that has been lost and changed." She gazed into the distance and then glanced at Claire. She seemed to be searching for words. "I think -- perhaps -- this -- Company is still running. To do -- is to not take time to think -- and feel." Her mouth twisted wryly. "I -- fear -- this may be so. But -- if we can accomplish some good in our 'doing' -- perhaps we will be more ready -- when the time comes -- to feel -- what we have lost," she bit her lip whitely for a moment before continuing, "and -- what we have become."
Paris straightened her shoulders. Her voice was steadier now. "As to the duke's men patrolling all his lands, well, he has never had enough personal guards to patrol all his lands. That is why he had nobles such as our baron in fealty to him. Their job was to patrol those portions of his lands that he had given them. What I was trying to say was that the man with the books, for some reason that I cannot fathom, chose not to seek safety in the duke's personal lands. We did, and we of Jouet came from further away than he did -- presuming that if he had his books stored, as Anton thinks, at the baron's village he actually lived in the baron's immediate area. Because he did not choose to come east, I figure that he must have had some powerful motive to go south. I know of no source of protection -- like we sought from our baron and then from the duke - to the south. But, then, there is much I do not know. As Red reminded me on the Night of Orcs, there is little to commend running into the unknown if one can, perhaps, do a little scouting to gain forewarning. Asking the right questions can be the same as scouting, I suspect."
Later, after the group had turned back towards Westmore, Paris asked, "Please tell me more about the changes you call 'odd', the ones you learned about in town last night? And how did the duke come to give surety for our actions?"
Claire answered, "The Duke promised us recompense for trying to find whatever books this man has. None of us has any coin, and so we told the owner of the cart that the Duke would be paying this expense. As for what was going on last night, it was very strange. It seems that many people have absorbed a card, and with it have gotten knowledge of all sorts of odd things. The ones gathered at that inn were talking of various treasures they wanted to find. It was rather confusing. They spoke of places that, it seems, might not have existed before, and creatures none had heard of before."
"Ah!" Paris answered with understanding in her voice, "I had not any idea how books might be valued against oxen. The only trading experience I've much had is that of labour for labour -- as any farmer in our village does, each with the others. Did," she amended with a choke in her voice." Paris paused for but a moment and then resumed normally. "I have no doubt that people from all 'round feel the effects of the Font of Chaos. We differ from them only in that we got to choose what cards would be absorbed. Others, caught by the random explosion of -- of whatever that is termed, magic of some sort," she looks questioningly at the other girl," obviously, absorbed whatever came their way. Probably -- judging by what Genelle told us -- only if the card that came their way had an affinity with their own personality. Or, perhaps, all the cards were automatically drawn to people - creatures -- of the proper affinity." She paused, a note of something like fear and determination colouring her next statement. "There seemed to be a _lot_ of black cards in that fount. Not all were silver, or even silver and black." She shook her head. "At any rate, we chose, others did not. It just happened to them. Like it did to Genelle. She is still trying to make sense of it. No wonder those others are confused."
"Ox Cart" copyright 1999 M.Waldman & S.Knowles. The contents of this site are copyright 2004 Sheryl A. Knowles unless otherwise specified. All rights reserved.