Chapter 4

Despite what Karl had said about Taran not being paid the first week, he gave Mr. Benson twenty ran in bills and another twenty worth in coin minted by Four-Leaf “for the gas expenses.” As soon as the trucker was gone, Taran immediately volunteered to take on whatever paperworks were laying around the office. Karl only told her to attend to herself and her living quarters first, because he “cannot entrust a country to someone who can’t be trusted to fix his bed.”

As an outgrowth of that, much of Taran’s workload at the office that first week was cleaning. She was only able to actually touch paper towards the end of the week, stacking files into boxes. In the afternoons she read up on the textbooks and answered the worksheets on reading and arithmetic Karl sent her.

She also ended up making coffee and sometimes omelettes for them both. She did her own laundry, too, even washed the bedsheets and curtains that were already in her room when she came.

“You mind if you let me do your clothes?” she once asked Karl.

“Huh—?” He was tongue-tied. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said, Karl sir. I mean to do your clothes. Launder them. Is my Ozhanese not good?”

“No-no-no, of course it’s good. But I… I got a washerwoman at my apartment.”

“And how much do you pay her even, sir? This is your chance to save up!”

“I-I tell ‘ya, it’s alright, I-I am willing to shell out of my own pockets for my own stuff!”

“You don’t trust my cleaning?”

“That’s not what I mean!”

“Alright, if you hand over your laundry to me, you can watch over, and I will belt out a good song to entertain you while you’re at it, sounds right, eh?”

But Karl turned away and turned tail in embarrassment. What’s up with that reaction? She was being nice, is all.

Being the cleaning girl of the office and an all-around help, she was the first to notice that something in paricular was amiss.

“Mr. Karl,” she said after getting him coffee, “our supplies are gone.”

“Hm?”

“The supplies ran out. Paper, ink, cleaning wax, too. We are also low on cooking gas.”

“Is that all?”

“Well…” No, actually.

“Figures.” And he turned to the window to have his coffee.

Eh? Is the census master not in the least perturbed? Sigh. “Is this really a government office?”

Karl took his time with the coffee whilst Taran awaited a response. He was smiling to himself. “It must be a shock to you, having been to the heart of empire, but in this country, ‘government’ is the opposite of prestige.”

Taran was in disbelief for a moment. But then… she was even more disconcerted remembering Mr. Benson say that they were “strapped” for people to work for them. Were people thinking the same as Karl about their own government? And then there were the coins Karl gave him that were clearly not issued by that government.

“Shall I keep you from knowing the real situation? Oh, but I guess I will have to tell you someday anyways. Your worksheet scores were not too bad, sixty-five, seventy percent correct, so I feel I can have you write a letter, after all.”

“A-A letter!? But my handwriting is… It’s bad.”

“That I am aware of.” He went under the desk to pick up something. “You should know how to use this,” he said putting the typewriter on the table. “There is an art to the skillful use of this baby, if you are really good and you know what to write like the back of your hand, you can finish a book in a week. But I will be patient with you, so long as you poop out that letter I want.”

At this, Taran had to put a hand over her mouth. Why did Karl and the people even think government was not prestigious? The emperor’s staff had legions of people using these devices! And the sounds of loud tapping and sweet dinging of hundreds of them all at once was almost as boisterous and exciting as battle itself. But still… “Who am I writing a letter to?”

“Treverorium.”

“…”

“Our nation had been in existence for only a little over ten years. The taxes we collect in this city and in the countryside are handled by tax farmers we have little to no control over, and I know quite a few of them are in the employ of the Sisters. That is why you will have a crucial role in this department very soon.

“In the meantime, most of the funds that run this country we have to… ahem… solicit from the caesar.”

“…”

“For instance, nearly all of the armament in Ozhakoland’s military are hand-me-downs from one of the empire’s twelve fleets. Well, three of them, mostly, I think… the Fourth, the Eighth, and Second Fleets have never been anywhere near to here, and, and… Anyway! We get our weapons from Treverorium. And half of our ammunition we receive as a loan from the emperor. We haven’t even paid back ten percent of our due from up to two years ago!

“Imagine, your very means of upholding your nation’s sovereignty… loaned.”

“…”

“Feeling ashamed already, boy? You may want to step out now, return to Benson, never come back.

“What do you say?”

Taran heard the words. At the back of her head she was wondering why she had to step down from taking spoils and glory on the battlefield to begging at the feet of the emperor Faern. One of which stands a considerably greater chance of impressing Her Excellency than the other.

But that typewriter…

Taran returned home to the Bensons with her head in the clouds. With Karl’s help, and about a full hour of typing down on just one sheet of paper (after chucking one other sheet in the dustbin), Taran personally wrote a letter to the Emperor Faern of Treverorum herself. Granted, the thing will likely end up with one of the secretaries as Karl had said, never to be actually read by the caesar herself… but what if that secretary was the same one who registered her with the adventurer lease? Maybe she will tell her boss that Taran Axton is now working for Ozhakoland. Will they also consider hiring her as a government staff… for Treverorum?

“It’s a long shot,” Mrs. Benson told her at dinner. “You were one of hundreds of adventurers… and they must have hundreds of staff already. How can you possibly stand out?”

“Look at us,” seconded her husband. “We never stood out our whole life, and we never will. But we go on living as best we could in this wilderness. We never regretted a thing.”

Fair enough. And yet… “What if I can stand out? With just a few more letters. With just a little more effort.”

Mr. Benson laughed. “You’re still every bit an adventurer, ain’t ‘ya, my boy?”

Indeed. The following Tuesday, Karl summoned her and two other “postmen,” Keera and Shayn, to the census office for a general briefing, and he entrusted them with a map. “You three shall take the northwest quadrant, with the Gall River as your reference point. Register everybody roaming the veldt. Names, family members, how many heads of goats or cattle they have, horses. Find out if they have fixed dwellings or travel with the seasons.”

Taran was amazed at Keera. Here was a woman adventurer. She had the bearing. Taran could feel she had at least five, maybe a bit short of ten years’ worth of experience in the field… and she envied her. Keera must have hailed from the time Treverorum allowed women to join the ranks of adventurers, and even then not everyone qualified, only the obvious crème de la crème. Which made it double the envy. Shayn for his part was tall and wiry and fitted the role of a brawny lieutenant who could beat up people for his general, which reminded her of the emperor’s husband being her muscular bodyguard.

Keera even sounded like a general when she spoke.

“Karl sir, this looks like too vast a country to cover by one group. The three of us should split and spread out. We will just communicate by radio.”

“But the veldt is the veldt. We can’t have the only girl in the party (obviously alluding to Keera) fend on her own out in the wild.”

“Then why did you hire adventurers?!” Keera replied, irritated. “I can protect myself. So can Shayn here. It’s this baby-faced newcomer you should worry about. There are tons and tons of lechers out there who will take their pick of little boys over any woman.”

Taran pouted. “I can protect myself, too, you know, I’m an adventurer like you, I came from Trevo.”

“And I don’t believe you. You stay here and keep sir Karl company.”

Karl himself intervened. “Now, now, you know we will need as many hands as we could for something as big as a census. Alright. If you want to split, fine, but as I have given you up to a month to work, please stay together at least for a week. Teach the rookie what you know from your previous sorties.”

Taran slept in her room at the office that night whilst her mates stayed over at Shayn’s aunt downtown. The following morning, Karl had arranged for each of them a horse with provisions, and even some money. They rode out to the veldt behind the census building and set out for the Kolik Creek, a tributary of the Gall which they shall follow to the said river.

The weather was excellent for travel, a cloudy sky and just a light breeze. The bluegrass swayed in the wind and was such a balm to the eyes it made Taran drowsy.

“Hey. Kid.” Keera shook her awake by the shoulder. “Hey. You up?” Sigh. “You can’t sleep on your horse, you will be way off the route.”

“You don’t want to wander off on this trip,” added Shayn. “The country we’re going to has a dirt road that leads straight to Kreuger.”

“Huh?” said Taran, still heavy-lidded. “Where have I heard that before?”

“It’s within the territory of Five-Moon,” answered Keera.

Oh, right… That place was one of the supposed objectives when they set out from Four-Leaf’s citadel. Their party were to take a highway which they had assumed to be a backroad under Four-Leaf’s control, but turned out to be one of the hotly-contested areas between the two warlord sisters and which had been occupied by Five-Moon from eight years ago. As a result, they ran into a large force of the enemy, leading into a rout, and she having to escape with Athos.

Athos…

“Hey,” said Keera. “Are you alright? Hey. Are you… Are you actually sick?”

“Huh—uh, no-no! I’m trying to keep awake, is all.”

They made good progress for the rest of the day and reached the confluence of the Kolik and the Gall before dark, at which they encamped. They agreed to stay together for another two days before they split. They got up the next morning while it was dark and began to go cross-country. They spent the rest of the day cornering every last herdsman they could find, chased others in vain.

One of the herdsmen they did hem in was, well, rather amusing if inconvenient…

“Them goats? The steers? The horsies? Uhhhh…

“Goats are my second-to-the-last cousin’s. The steers are shared ‘tween me and my uncle. I don’t quite remember how many is mine… Two? Maybe three?

“But but but it’s a common agreement that all the herd belongs to the whole clan.

“Where are they, you ask?

“Let’s uh-see… A third of them hunt bison so they have to follow them all over. I don’t know at that moment where the rest are, but we all agree to meet up at our camp near Kayup every winter.”

Keera in particular was incensed, wringing the survey papers. “This whole form is worthless, agh! If I was the government I’d just ride in and shoot everybody and round up all the animals, that would make ‘em faster to count!”

In the end, for that day, they managed to interview about six in all.

For that night, they encamped at a place Karl had told them was well-used by herders who slept out at the veldt. The Assonda Circle was an unfinished rotunda that had been overgrown over the ages, but the two dirt roads that led from it were well-known among the locals and were known to be used in war. One led to the Asage Seaway. The other was the one Keera had mentioned; it goes to Five-Moon country.

The campfire had been long since doused, and the three of them were fast asleep in their sleepsacks… until around one in the morning, that is, and then only one of them.

Taran woke up to an uncomfortable wetness inside her sleepsack. Did she pee herself without knowing it? Was that even possible? She remembered being roused at unearthly hours because she felt an urge for the toilet. What could possibly

“…”

No way.

She got her flashlight and saw that her bed was thoroughly soaked with blood. Her blood. She heard the faint howls of wild dogs in the distance. She had been hearing them all night tonight, but it was only now that she was drenched in cold sweat. Her two comrades must not find out. They must absolutely not find out.

She got to her feet, still leaking trickles of her period, and packed up as speedily and quietly as she could. She loaded everything on her still resting horse, which seemed to take the cue and stood up without any complaint.

Taran rode throughout the night in the direction of the Asage Seaway between Ozhakoland and the great wilderness of Freidaland. By the time the morning star appeared, she had reached the place.

The sea was majestic. It foamed and dashed on the rocks far below her feet, and she was glad it was far. Spanning it was a mighty bridge, gigantic as it was desolate, similarly overgrown as the rest of the veldt, greyed from a great age, the mighty pillars that supported it veritable mountains braving the powerful rush of the oceanic channel below.

To the south, she could spy from far and away the skyline of Four-Leaf’s citadel by the sea, gleaming against the retreating night, still as splendid and majestic as that night when she had gathered with the adventurers from Treverorium and dined on the finest roe with Athos.

“…”

She wiped the tears with the back of her hand and fought them back with a smile of relief. She got away. The panorama stole her breath. Where else could one witness waves large as houses rage whilst framed on both sides by endless veldt far as the eye can dare to reach? And then… the sunrise emerged, and gilded everything… and Taran had to cover her astounded, gaping mouth.

She gazed out to the end of the channel to the south far past the citadel. The horizon was lined with a fuzzy bluish-black. What could she find over there? she wondered. Maybe there was a giant waterfall somewhere, it was so easy to believe, and for a moment she really felt it to be true. Anything was possible with scenery like this, great and wondrous sights, so incredible they inspired legends.

Taran took a clay jar full of coffee beans she has purchased at a Lilan market. Travitz had taught her and Athos how to brew, but it was still a bit tricky to her, quite unlike the cups she served Karl which she prepared from powder. She did pull it off, and a brisk cupful added to lifting her mood.

She was still sitting on a ledge of the bridge, feeling the wind and drinking in the golden scene, when something began to crackle from inside her rucksack. Oh—! Her two companions were awake and were now trying to contact her. What to say, what to say!? She hurried to get the radio. “H-Hello? Copy?”

“You’re still alive!?” It was Keera.

“Uh, yeah… Obviously…”

“Shayn thought a cougar took you.”

“Well no! I’m still talking, right?”

“Where are you right now?”

“Dunno!” she blurted. “I-I mean, please don’t follow me. I’m pretty far away now.”

“You didn’t have the guts to tell us you’re leaving before we could part ways properly, but you have the nerve to hide your location from us?”

“But we were gonna split today, anyway!”

“Dude—!”

“I-I’m so sorry! Seriosuly! I didn’t mean to insult you, please believe me!”

Keera’s puff of annoyance came through the line loud and clear. “OK champ, hear me out. This beat-up road running through our camp. Whichever way you take, don’t ‘ya ever follow it all the way, OK? Don’t. To the west, you’ll end up with Five-Moon. To the east, the Lost Bridge. Lost Bridge, you hear me? Cross that and you’re in Freidaland; the moment you step on the dirt of that unregenerate waste, you’re gone from the land of the living. You will never come back.”

“Eh?” She glanced to her left and saw the veldt on the other side of the channel. It did not look too different. “But why? I know Five-Moon is the ‘The Big Eater’ and ‘Glutton of Souls’ but we adventurers know she’s just another warlord. Is there another one like her over there?”

“Just shut up and listen to me!”

“I need to know!”

Loud puff. “The government here delists everyone who crosses over that bridge from the registry of citizens! You will be instantly outlawed.”

Gasp. “Seriously?!”

“You’re with the census and you don’t know?”

“Sir Karl never told me!”

“Tch! Really now. He should have included that when he first briefed you. Anyway, just do what I say, interview who you can, Shayn and I will split up after lunch. When are you returning to Lilan?”

“I’m not sure… In three days, maybe.”

“Fair enough. Shayn and I don’t plan to last a month out here, either. If we finish enough of our mission soon, we will meet at the capital. Take care.”

“You guys, too. Send my regards to Karl.” But the radio had already signed off.

A little later, when the sky clouded over and the sun was gone, she took the soiled sleepsack and chucked it off the bridge to the foaming waves far below.