Chapter 3 Part 1

Vacation

The caravan in which Dylan was riding consisted of twenty slowly moving wagons. He was certain that he could have walked faster than the wagons were moving, but he doubted that he could do so all day with his baggage in tow. So as slow as the oxen were, they were far better than the alternative.

Besides, it gave him plenty of people to talk to along the way, and that kept him from thinking about the idea of Cindy playing smacky-mouth with some boy at the Academy. Dylan didn’t know why, but for some reason it really bothered him.

A second benefit of traveling with the caravan was the fact that in addition to a driver, each wagon also carried a guard equipped with sword, bow and spear. Individually a wagon could be plundered by any roving pack of brigands, but when all the wagons traveled together, the wagoneers made a formidable fighting force.

Dylan noted with some sense of security the wishful glances as small groups of seedy-looking men would pass by and gaze wistfully at the wagons, their contents, and the guards attentiveness.

Dylan had heard tales of occasional bandit attacks on caravans. More than often those attacks turned out rather poorly for the bandits. It seems that Dylan recalled someone mentioning at one time or another that the Merchant’s Guild purchased a very expensive contract with the Free Mercenaries’ League to provide professional protection to cargo shipments outside the jurisdiction of city militias.

Dylan spent the days riding in the wagon for the most part and only getting down and walking when he felt the need to stretch his legs. He found that by walking, he could visit all of the wagons in turn and talk to the drivers and their guards. The drivers were all too happy to ramble on about almost anything, but the guards rarely engaged in idle conversation. Though because of his young age, most of the men did tend to humor him politely.

When the nights came, the wagoneers drew their wagons into a large circle and unhitched the oxen. Then they build a large bonfire in the center of the circle and several smaller fires in a rough circle outside the wagons. The oxen were picketed off to one side and guards were posted with both animals and wagons. The drivers and all passengers, Dylan included, slept within the comparative safety of the wagon ring near the bonfire.

The going was agonizingly slow. But after several days, Sandy Hollow came into view. Excitedly Dylan gathered his belongings and as the wagons passed on by the road leading to the main complex, he bade farewell to the wagoneers and guards and hopped off the wagons. He stood there for several long moments relishing the feeling of coming home again after such a long time. He listened and felt a wave of rightness wash over him as familiar sounds echoed in his mind rousing memories of many joyful days of his childhood.

Dylan laughed in spite of himself. He was only eleven and he somehow considered himself no longer a child. What gall, he chastised himself. He hadn’t even begun to sprout hair in weird places yet.

He may not be a man, he reminded himself, but he was definitely no longer a child. He was something in between, something that could only be described as, an initiate.

Dylan took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He hefted his pack and began walking up the road towards the plantation. The clothes he wore were not the best in the world, but the money that Master Tesron had advanced him had purchased well fitting clothes that were most likely better than anything anyone on Sandy Hollow would be wearing. Dylan was not vain, but he did want to make his parents proud of him. He had purchased symbolic and yet inexpensive gifts for each of his parents and his sister.

Walking up that road was like stepping back through time into a dim memory. It was amazing as to how he noticed minor changes everywhere, and in some ways was saddened by them.

An addition to the blacksmith’s cabin stood out immediately. The pile of dead wood that was used for fires was gone. The old bull that had grazed near the edge of the pasture as far back as he could remember was nowhere to be seen.

Dylan was caught in the midst of his reflection when his name was called. The sound was both jovial and at the same time stirred memories of how often it had grated on his nerves.
“Dylan!” It was Mari. She sprinted forth from a huddle of small girls and raced on bare feet towards him with outstretched arms.

To his own amazement, Dylan realized that he had dropped everything he had been carrying and was rushing to meet the little pest he called his sister. They rushed into each other’s embrace and held tightly as if afraid that the dream would slip away.

“Oh Dylan,” Mari began, “It’s so good to see you. I can’t wait to tell mother and father that you’re back. D’you see my new dress? It used to belong to Kimber, but when she moved away to marry into another community, she gave it to mother. And mother made it to fit me. And d’you know the old bull died last month? And Terry, the head herdsman got really drunk when the old bull died and drowned.”

The girl went on babbling as she tried to squeeze a whole year’s events into a single few precious moments. Dylan made no attempt to stop her as he listened patiently. Somehow her voice was not quite so grating as he remembered.

Dylan retrieved his belongings and followed as Mari tugged his hand, leading him towards the cabin where his parents lived. Enroute, there were several shouts as various persons in the community recognized him and extended their greetings.

The usual activity level of the plantation community began to stir out of its normal routine as the news began to spread that Dylan had come home from the Academy. The noise level all over rose to that of excitement as more and more people began emerging from shops, cabins, and other workplaces to greet the wayward member of their family.

Many of the older women remarked on how much he had grown and how he was turning into a handsome young man. The older men recalled some of his more embarrassing misadventures, the boys he had played with for years all laughed and told him that he was getting too fancy for his pants, and the girls who had before been nothing more than nuisances were looking upon him with genuine respect and maybe something more.

People were speaking to him from every direction and the noise was so chaotic, that he could not understand a single bit of what was being said. Indeed, the effect was dizzying and Dylan was caught up in the center of the miniature maelstrom of humanity.

Then without warning, the crowd hushed and went silent. Slowly the people parted to reveal a small and still quite young woman. Her lovely features had been etched with the hint of age over the last year as her heart had been torn apart and a very large piece had been sent far away. But now without warning it had returned to make her whole again. Dylan handed his bundle to Mari who greedily accepted it and held it as if to guard it from those around.

Dylan took five steps and fell into his mother’s arms as tears he had fought to hold back came gushing from his eyes. He was, after all, only eleven, and still just a little boy.
For an instant, time stopped as Dylan held his mother tightly. No one saw fit to try to separate the two of them. Then two strong hands belonging to the only person who would dare to separate them pulled Dylan away.

Dylan gazed upon the face of his father. The man’s eyes were filled with love and pride. “It’s good to have you home,” he said with half a choke. Then the steely masculine resolve shattered and Dylan was drawn into yet another embrace.

After another timeless moment, Dylan’s father pulled away. He turned to address the crowd. “Please, everyone, feel free to visit with us this night,” he announced. “I’m going to ask Master Talmus to allow Dylan to sit at the head table for tonight’s meal. I’m sure that he’ll agree.” There was a murmur in the crowd. The head table in the commons meal hall was reserved for the Master Farmer, Talmus, and his staff, which included Dylan’s father. The people dispersed with excitement. On a plantation where the same people did the same thing each and every day, any small event was reason for celebration.

Dylan was escorted to his parent’s cottage. There he delivered Master Tesron’s message to his father. Learth read the document carefully for he was one of the few men in Sandy Hollow who could read. As he read, his hands began to tremble and when at last he put the paper down, his face was aglow with radiant pride.

“I’m so proud to be your father,” he told Dylan. He gave his son another hug as his wife, Gayla came in carrying a pitcher of cool water and fresh bread. “Our son has done so well,” he told her, “that he’s over a month ahead of the curriculum at the Academy.”

“What’s a curriculum,” Gayla asked. She was a farm girl and had never been taught to read or write. She secretly had plans to see to it that Mari did not suffer the same neglect. If Dylan did well, it would be easier to get Mari into the Academy as well.

“It’s the schedule of what is to be studied,” Learth told her proudly. “Our son is a month ahead of schedule in his studies, so as a reward for doing so well, Master Tesron has given him a purse and vacation.”

“He gave you money?” Dylan’s mother asked.

“He gave me ten Gold Allentownians,” Dylan told her.

“Ten gold!” Gayla sat at the table stunned. That was more money than many farm families saw in a whole year. The plantations were communistic. Most of the labor was paid in food, supplies and shelter. Currency was very rare.

“You are a rich man, eh?” Learth laughed.

“Not at all,” Dylan countered. “I can’t eat gold and I can’t wear it or fall in love with it. By itself it would soon dwindle away. So I have to use it as best I can and then earn some more.” Now where had that come from? He seemed to remember Guage saying it at some point…or maybe it was something he had read.

“Our son may not be rich,” Learth observed, “but he’s becoming very wise.”

“Wisdom is beyond price,” Dylan added automatically as he dipped the bread in the water. He then wondered where he had heard that line before.

That afternoon, Dylan received many guests. Learth took great pleasure in boasting of Dylan’s success.

As the day wore on, though, Dylan was curious as to why his friend, Matt had not come by to visit. Matt was only a little older than he was, and though he might be working the fields by now, should still be able to come by upon returning.

Evening came and the expected visitation by Dylan’s friend did not occur. Dylan passed out the small gifts that he had purchased to his family. Mari took the rock candy and immediately began working on it. He gave his father a small bottle of ink to be used in his work, and for his mother he had bought a kerchief with an embroidered heart upon it.