there’s not much to be done for it. We’ll have to do the best we can and hopefully the weather will be kinder to us today.”
“I just hope we can find another dry spot to sleep if it does continue,” Bryn chimed in.
“No worry about that lad,” said his uncle, “we’ll soon be nearing the mountains, and there’ll be lots of small stands of trees thick enough to keep the weather off our heads for a night.”
“Another night of sleeping on the ground?” Bryn asked.
Rodden laughed. “Your nephew is beginning to learn the truth of the traveling life. It’s not all fancy rooms and fine meals, now is it? No, most of the time it’s the hard earth and even harder bread.”
Even Halam got a chuckle out of that, and Bryn smiled as well. It wasn’t so bad, he figured, interesting for sure, and it certainly beat hauling stones or threshing grain.
Their food arrived with three tall glasses of milk, and the three set to their plates. The eggs were hot, the bread fresh baked, and the milk cold. When they’d finished, Halam paid the serving girl and the three headed back round to the stables to collect their horses.
The horses’ hooves made a strange sucking sound when they moved through the muddy streets and toward the gate of Coria. Unlike Plowdon, Coria only had one large gate on the western side of the city facing the King’s Road. Although the sun was not yet over the horizon, the streets were already astir. Citizens were opening the shutters on the street-front businesses, getting ready for the day’s trade. Vendors were readying their stands, piling fruits and vegetables high from carts and wagons arriving from the surrounding countryside. People of all types and in a variety of clothing, from the most fine to the worst fitted, moved this way and that as they headed off to whatever work they did. The three moved through it all at a steady trot, eager to be back on the road. They should have been much further south by now, well onto the plains of Culdovia. They would need to make up that time on today’s ride.
A few hours after leaving Coria the seemingly never-ending sight of field after field finally came to an end. The rolling hills gradually flattened out so that Bryn could see to the horizon without interruption. The fields they traveled along became uncultivated and home to more weeds than crops. Eventually the weeds thinned out, revealing a rocky ground underneath. The earth around them went from shades of green to yellow to brown. Soon they were surrounded on all sides by a rocky environment of dirt.
“Welcome to the Klamath Plain, gentlemen,” Rodden said loudly, opening his arms out in front of him in a showman’s gesture. “This rocky wasteland unfit for life’ll now be our constant companion until we pass Lindonis in, oh, I’d say two days time.”
Bryn looked around him. He’d grown bored and weary of the landscape of Tillatia, but had had no expectations that the Klamath Plain would be so desolate. Pebbles, small stones, and a smattering of larger rocks dotted the landscape. Weeds grew everywhere that rocks weren’t, with a few patches of a yellowish-brown grass here and there that grew as if some malevolent giant had scattered bad seeds this way and that.
“How does anything live here?” Bryn asked.
Rodden chuckled. “Well, lad, there are all manner of creatures that call these plains home. Many live burrowed underground, and most come out at night. You might not think so by looking at it, but those weeds are really quite nutritious, and many of the wild herds that wander these plains devour them thankfully.”
“Wild herds?” Bryn asked.
“Oh yes,” Rodden continued. “There are large herds of horses that wander about, as well as deer and antelope, many types of rabbits, and countless kinds of rodents.”
“You must remember, Bryn,” Halam added, “that not all of the Klamath Plain looks like this. Many areas in the west have more shrubs and grasses, and small
“I just hope we can find another dry spot to sleep if it does continue,” Bryn chimed in.
“No worry about that lad,” said his uncle, “we’ll soon be nearing the mountains, and there’ll be lots of small stands of trees thick enough to keep the weather off our heads for a night.”
“Another night of sleeping on the ground?” Bryn asked.
Rodden laughed. “Your nephew is beginning to learn the truth of the traveling life. It’s not all fancy rooms and fine meals, now is it? No, most of the time it’s the hard earth and even harder bread.”
Even Halam got a chuckle out of that, and Bryn smiled as well. It wasn’t so bad, he figured, interesting for sure, and it certainly beat hauling stones or threshing grain.
Their food arrived with three tall glasses of milk, and the three set to their plates. The eggs were hot, the bread fresh baked, and the milk cold. When they’d finished, Halam paid the serving girl and the three headed back round to the stables to collect their horses.
The horses’ hooves made a strange sucking sound when they moved through the muddy streets and toward the gate of Coria. Unlike Plowdon, Coria only had one large gate on the western side of the city facing the King’s Road. Although the sun was not yet over the horizon, the streets were already astir. Citizens were opening the shutters on the street-front businesses, getting ready for the day’s trade. Vendors were readying their stands, piling fruits and vegetables high from carts and wagons arriving from the surrounding countryside. People of all types and in a variety of clothing, from the most fine to the worst fitted, moved this way and that as they headed off to whatever work they did. The three moved through it all at a steady trot, eager to be back on the road. They should have been much further south by now, well onto the plains of Culdovia. They would need to make up that time on today’s ride.
A few hours after leaving Coria the seemingly never-ending sight of field after field finally came to an end. The rolling hills gradually flattened out so that Bryn could see to the horizon without interruption. The fields they traveled along became uncultivated and home to more weeds than crops. Eventually the weeds thinned out, revealing a rocky ground underneath. The earth around them went from shades of green to yellow to brown. Soon they were surrounded on all sides by a rocky environment of dirt.
“Welcome to the Klamath Plain, gentlemen,” Rodden said loudly, opening his arms out in front of him in a showman’s gesture. “This rocky wasteland unfit for life’ll now be our constant companion until we pass Lindonis in, oh, I’d say two days time.”
Bryn looked around him. He’d grown bored and weary of the landscape of Tillatia, but had had no expectations that the Klamath Plain would be so desolate. Pebbles, small stones, and a smattering of larger rocks dotted the landscape. Weeds grew everywhere that rocks weren’t, with a few patches of a yellowish-brown grass here and there that grew as if some malevolent giant had scattered bad seeds this way and that.
“How does anything live here?” Bryn asked.
Rodden chuckled. “Well, lad, there are all manner of creatures that call these plains home. Many live burrowed underground, and most come out at night. You might not think so by looking at it, but those weeds are really quite nutritious, and many of the wild herds that wander these plains devour them thankfully.”
“Wild herds?” Bryn asked.
“Oh yes,” Rodden continued. “There are large herds of horses that wander about, as well as deer and antelope, many types of rabbits, and countless kinds of rodents.”
“You must remember, Bryn,” Halam added, “that not all of the Klamath Plain looks like this. Many areas in the west have more shrubs and grasses, and small
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