Thankfully, I was in shape to ride behind Saul and father after that first wretched day and our trip was only eventful for me, as I enjoyed following riding alongside the carriage or sometimes ahead.

The road mostly went through thick forest, so Cinder and I had to stick to the dirt road. Still, it was pretty nice on horseback, and much brighter among the dappled sunlight playing over the carriage, father and the others in the shape of the gaps between the leaves.

All in all, I was able to put the cramped carriage and that prick, Orjel out of my mind pretty quickly. I mean, it was already 2 days since then, 3 since we left Gristol and we were supposed to be getting to Bridgewater this afternoon.

As the broad road curved out of the woods and merged with another path following the river bank,

The river water ahead looked so clear that I wanted to jump in head first, but I held myself back as father and Saul just motioned forward to let the horses have a drink.

"Look, over the river there is Leslie. We're at the very Southern edge of Efeles now," father turned around to tell me. "You can even see Bridgewater ov-"

Tuhrlrl tuhrlrl tuhrlrl tuhrlrl

Father and I immediately looked towards the sound of trotting hooves in the woods behind us.

It didn't sound like the plodding of our little convoy, but like a galloping runner, or something worse.

"My Lord! My Lord!"

Tuhrlrl tuhrlrl

The distant trots continued to beat, but were soon followed up by a shout from a man coming out of the conifers.

"Please! We're under attack. Please help my caravan fend off those bandits!"

Tuhrlrl tuh tuh tuh

"Bandits?" Saul cried as father unsheathed his sword. He turned to us and shouted to father, "What should we do? Give chase?"

"How many of them were there?" Father shouted at the man.

"There were 6 of them, all ruffians. If not for their numbers, my guards would have been able to take care of them! Please, my lord..."

"Lord Sivis!" A call came from the third carriage in our group, where Pricel was travelling with his parents.

"Lyum?" Father asked. It was Lyum Barker, who was riding beside the carriage driver. There were many unexpected guests this trip, so space was made even in another lord's carriage.

I wish he was in our carriage that first day instead of that brat Orjel. I guess he thought kids would get along...

It wasn't Lyum who responded though. He had hailed father, but just to buy time for the viscount, Virtal Phrans to get out of the carriage.

"Sivis, ask him what company he is with. His name," the Virtal said.

"Company, my lord?" The man responded directly to the viscount's question, looking between father and Pricel's father. "I'm- but I need help quickly, the bandits- I'm with the norther-"

"Viscount? We have to hurry if we're going to catch them," Saul interrupted as the man dithered. He seemed to still be ready to chase.

"Do not. This is a bait." The viscount said, "The same must have happened to my father and your knight. They just want to split us apart."

I felt a pang of fear as my eyes darted back to the 'merchant'. Now that I was paying attention, he wasn't fat or skinny, as I imagined a merchant should be. He was bald and had arms that were as bulky as Crion's father, the blacksmith in Olwick. Even more suspicious was the fur lined coat he was wearing, sumptuous enough for a lord but with a gash cut down the side. It wouldn't have been strange if it had been ripped when it was stolen off its previous owner.

"Lord Sivis!" the viscount shouted, "Take that man captive. This is our chance to find out what happened to my father."

I patted Cinder on the neck, his short russet hair smooth downwards. He was stepping backwards and forwards after I put him on edge. I tried not to pinch down with my knees but also keep my balance. It was hard, particularly after riding him all day and most of the day yesterday. Plodding along seemed so easy at first, but today my butt was sore from yesterday and it made everything harder.

"N-no, wait, this isn't-"

I looked back towards the man who was now looking around in panic as Saul dashed towards him, preparing to clash with him.

He then tried to pull out his sword and defend himself, but he was slow where Saul was quick and decisive.

"Surrender your arms!" Saul shouted and knocked him with his sword pommel right between the eyes.

"Oaaagh!'

"Sir Valedon, take his sword and dismount him. My guards can keep him between us until Bridgewater."

It all ended within a few brief moments, father and Saul taking hand of the bandit.

"Bound him and take him on your horse Karbrol," The viscount ordered one of the two guards who were guarding the carriage with Pricel and Lady Bera vis Phrans. I blinked as I recognised the name. It was a vague memory, but the old knight was the man who came to Olwick with Pricel years ago.

I heard the breathing in my ear and my heartbeats as father came up to put his hand on my shoulder, releasing some of the tension that had taken me.

"That should be a lesson to both of us. If not for Viscount Phrans, I would not have noticed this was a set up either." He told me, "Fortunately, as it turned out, we might be able to get to the bottom of what happened to Jom."

The procession kept moving along the road, flanked on one side by the forest trees and on the other by the river bank. The bank was rocky and muddy here and there and the river itself was very large, perhaps over a kilometre across.

"Yes, I had been talking about that before hadn't I?" Father spoke when he saw me looking at the far bank of Leslie. "Do you see the bridge?"

I looked forward down the river bank where he pointed. There was a city on each side of the river, or maybe one sprawling on each side. The stonework of the buildings looked a muddy red in the sunlight. It was quite different from Gristol where everything was grey.

Between the banks, there was an enormous bridge, slightly curved. It was too far to see much of it, but it was obviously huge.

"That is one of the three bridges of Bridgewater and is the main passages from the South to the capital."

I had always thought that mother's family was fairly low of rank, considering how father and mother were treated. If they controlled such an important bridge and city though, they would have to be important.

As we talked and got closer to the city, there were more and more people who we passed by on the road.

"Look at this one, what do you think he's carrying?" My father asked me, pointing at a wagon that had pulled over at the very edge of the road to let us pass.

"I don't kno-"

"Believe me! I'm not the one you want! They were attacking me!" A muffled shout came from Karbrol's horse ahead of us, stealing my attention back to him.

He had thrown the man on top of his horse sparking more memories of Pricel and Nistan.

"Is he saying the truth?" I asked father. "Did you hear? He might not be a bandit."

"Tilvrade, don't pay attention to that. Viscount Phrans knows best. And it's wool.” I was momentarily confused as he continued stating. “You can tell the wool merchants because of the rolls. They have to keep it bunched together so that it doesn't fly off. Did you know that in addition to trade, Bridgewater itself produces much of the wool that we use in Farand? This is where many of your clothes probably come from."

He was still talking about the wagon stopped on the side of the road to pass the other way. Wasn't he worried about the bandit?

"Stay quiet and stop complaining," Karbrol shouted, whacking the man with a horse crop. "The viscount is a man of virtue. If you are innocent we'll get to the bottom of this."

I winced. Did he have to hit him like that?

I caught the eye of another boy who was standing by the road in a clean but patched and scuffed shirt. He was staring wide eyed at Karbrol until a man who was probably his father pushed his head down.

Everyone stood at the side like that whenever we passed, avoiding the other knight of Viscount Phrans ahead who was shouting to clear the way. It was like that until the road opened up, another large road joining with it as the city started to loom around us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bridgewater was not what I expected at all. The stone buildings were big but seemed dark and there were almost as many people here as in West Gate, crying out vegetables and cheeses and other things in the marketplace.

The main difference was really the stone with its ruddy hue.

The Phranses lived in a mansion that dominated the centre of the city. It looked like two separate buildings with a gate between them to the courtyard behind. It was evidently a large mansion, but it somehow seemed less impressive than others I had seen.

"Did you see the birdy?"

I felt a warm shoulder tuck in under my elbow as Brendal stood on his tip toes to look out the window beside me. We were given a room together and were sent upstairs to get changed.

He was pointing at a statue on a narrow but tall building on the opposite side of the square that the mansion faced.

"It's probably one of the guilds father talked about," I told him. "Did you get changed yet? Wait, you're still in those shoes? You're making a mess..."

I sighed. This baby brother of mine. Just a couple days ago in the carriage, he was mocking me with his new friend behind my back, and now, with the excitement of a new room and whatever silly ideas of adventure in Bridgewater he had come up with, he seemed to think asking me questions and snuggling up to his big brother was the most natural thing in the world.

"But I just had them on in the carriage. They're such a pain to put on and take off..." he complained, oblivious to the labour that went into keeping the floors and carpets clean.

Did he even need to put his own shoes on? I mean, I would have, but Simila usually was there to help me.

I looked around. Simila was there, lazily running her finger along a picture frame. I guess Ivian and Simila had drawn lots and Ivian stayed behind to help unpack the carriage for us.

I sighed again. Simila didn't care about art, did she? Do they expect me to take care of my brother?

"Come here Brendal. I'll take your shoes off." I pointed at a wooden chair in the corner.

I already felt exhausted after riding for two days, the longest horseback trip I had ever done. Now I had to take my brother's stupid shoes off.

Actually, they were pretty nice, brown leather shoes with pretty patterns along the seams. If not for the tuft of grass still squashed against the flat leather sole, he might have even looked respectable.

Before I could stop him, Brendal ran over to the pretty upholstered chair that creaked a bit as he jumped on it. How did he even get mud and grass all over him sitting in the carriage?

At least he listened to me and sat down. I decided my job was done with taking the shoes off and putting them beside the door. Someone else could worry about the muddy shoe prints on the floor.

Thump thump thump

"Excuse me, my lord. The tub has been filled," someone knocked and said from the other side of the door.

Simila led us to the bath room and then left us to disrobe.

I shivered, as I took off my shirt at the edge of the room, halfway between the lukewarm autumn air and the steam wafting over me from the bath tub. My feet were cold on the unfamiliar tiles, but I was grateful to be able to sink into hot water after a long day and with my sore thighs.

The bath itself was quite different from the simple basin we had at home, made of wood almost like a large barrel cut in two. This one was made of metal, copper probably with its reddish hue. It was square, and would have fit 4 of me inside. On top, hanging from the ceiling, was a curtain, that had been rolled up, apparently not for our use.

I tip toed over and took a deep breath as I anticipated stepping inside.

“Brendal,” it was just us two here and we had some time together as we relaxed, a tub of warm water and steady ground under our feet. ”Careful for Orjel, alright? He's going to get you in trouble.”

Brendal's excited twitching as he poured water over himself paused and he unexpectedly seemed to think about what I said. Maybe he wasn't merely acting as a brother today and had actually been feeling something off about how Orjel spoke. I could hope at least...

"Tilvrade, Brendal," Simila called out just as my toes were sinking into the water. "You need to get dressed. Bath will be later."

I blinked a couple times, looking over my shoulder at Simila who was letting a chilly draught in through the open door to the hallway.

"Viscount Phrans has come to greet you. Your parents told me to bring you down."

My jaw wobbled up and down. Not now! Come later! Leave me alone to take my bath!

"Yes!" Brendal cried out, happy to rush back into his dirty clothes.

He still seemed to dislike being scrubbed with soap or getting it in his eyes.

“Orjel's cooler than you. I'll do what I want, so there.”

"Tch," I clicked my tongue as I walked back to where I had hung my clothes up. Orjel was definitely a bad influence.