Ganne


15 - Along The Great River.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------


The Doctor led the way down through the narrow streets of the Old Town.
Early as it was, the townsfolk were already astir, preparing for another
day.  In ten minutes, the party had reached the muddy stream which marked
a fault line in Maron Gate society.  This side of the river the streets
were cramped and winding, darkened by ugly three storey buildings, while
across the narrow stream broad, straight avenues stretched away into the
distance.  The trees lining the way were decked out in their autumnal
finery, the colorful foliage masking from the vulgar gaze the stone-built
mansions of the wealthy.

The party clattered over an ancient stone bridge, adorned with carved
dragons.  There were fewer people about here; and the horses were urged
into a trot.  In fifteen minutes, they had passed into open country.

The rode past an army training ground.  The place was a hive of noisy
activity.  Ranks of new recruits were being drilled mercilessly by cursing
sergeants.  Further on, horses and riders were being put through cavalry
manoeuvres.  The ground was shaking with the thunder of hundreds of
pounding hooves.  The recently risen sun glinted and sparkled from breast
plates and lance points.

Soon , the army camp was left behind.  The countryside became a patchwork
of wooded hills and cultivated bottom lands.  The scenery reminded Sarah
of a pony trekking holiday she had once taken through the Cotswolds.  It
had been autumn then; and the similarity of the scenery impressed itself
upon Sarah's journalistic eye.  She began to study the passing country in
earnest.  She could not help but think of Hardy's great rural novels of
the last century.  Then she smiled, amused at the thought that "last
century" might, for all she knew, be a million years ago.

That was the fun of travelling with the Doctor.  It could get downright
terrifying at times: but it wasn't all monsters and psychotic madmen
scheming to take over the universe.  It just seemed like it sometimes.
All things considered, Sarah reckoned that an enjoyable excursion like
this did much to make up for all the unpleasantness.

In some fields, gangs of gleaners worked among the neat rows of stacks.
In others, the Autumn ploughing was under way.  Teams of oxen dragged
ploughs through the earth, turning over the dark soil.  A flock of black
birds, that looked for all the world to Sarah like crows, followed each
team.  Flapping and squarking, they descended in a tatterdemalion cloud to
the disturbed earth behind each team.  The birds hopped about, pecking at
the earth, feasting off the squirming, scuttling denizens of the soil.

In other fields, foremen mounted on horses directed gangs of be-smocked
men and women as they cleared fields of the stukes of corn.  With
long-handled pitch forks, they hoisted the golden sheaves high, piling
them on rustic-looking wains drawn by heavy horses.  It looked like
back-breaking work, and probably was; but the men and women chattered
happily; and here and there a chanting rose with a powerful rhythm to spur
on the physical effort.

Around mid-morning, Genella called a halt.  They steered the horses off
the road onto a small promontory overlooking the Great River.  The party
dismounted, loosed girths on saddles and packs, and walked around to
stretch stiff limbs.  Marlek broke out some food; and they eat sitting by
the road, watching the traffic flowing past.  The bustle on the highway
seemed to annoy Genella.  She rose, and went to stand looking out over the
river.  The Doctor joined her.

"There is a tale they tell around here," Genella began, "that once, before
the Curse came to the land over yonder, that you could cross the Great
River dry shod anywhere from The Vardenne to South Point by simply hopping
from deck to deck of the river boats, they were so thick upon the water?
Now look at it!"

The Doctor looked.  On the entire reach of river visible from their
vantage point, a solitary craft could be seen.  It was keeping inshore
along the south bank.  The yellow-hulled craft looked little more than a
rowboat with a red sail.

A few minutes later they remounted, and road on down the West River Road
towards the Ganneship of Vardenne.  Genella pushed the pace.  They did not
stop again.  By the late afternoon, with the sun settling on the distant
peaks of the Vardenai Range, they came into the outskirts of a large town.

Marlek urged his black charger into a canter.  "I'll see about a billet,"
he called back.  "They're bound to have room at the Bridge Inn."

"If he drops my name," Genella remarked acidly.  "It's a funny thing, but
no matter how full an Inn is, they always seem to find room for a Ganne."

To their right, a long stretch of derelict wharfs and warehouses lined the
river side.  In the centre of town, the West River Road crossed the Great
North Way.  The place where the two roads met formed an open square.  In
the middle was a plinth with four statues of Ganne Witches, one gazing
down each of the four thoroughfares.  The road to the north ran a short
distance, then ended in a guard post.  Beyond the barrier, the road rose
up and out over the river on a broad, stone built bridge.

Crossing the bridge towards them, drawn by two brown horses, was what
looked to Sarah for all the world like a traditional Gypsy caravan.  The
once bright paintwork was well weathered.  A middle aged man and woman in
gayly coloured clothing, sat upon the driving seat.  As the four wheeler
drew up at the barrier, some guards moved out to speak to the people.

Marlek, who had been chatting with the detachment of soldiers, waved to
Genella's party.  He pointed out the rambling two story stone built
building on the north west corner.

A stir of interest ran around the locals loafing in the square.  The
keepers of a few sad looking market stalls stopped haggling with their
customers to stare at the mounted party.  A ripple of speculative
conversation ran around the square as Genella was recognised.  Windows
were pushed open in the houses; and curious faces peered out at the Lady
Ganne and her escort.

"We'd better get under cover," Genella advised, "or we'll have a full
blown Civic Welcome Committee to contend with."

She urged her mount towards an arch at the corner of the Inn, where the
Great North Road and the West River Road met.  They clattered in under the
arch.  In the cobbled yard, they dismounted.  Grooms ran forward to take
charge of the horses.  A few moments later, Marlek joined them; and they
entered the Inn through a door directly into a spacious common room.

The landlord, a fat man in late middle age, bade them an effusive welcome.
He took it upon himself to personally escort his exalted guests to their
seats.  They threaded their way through the clutter of furniture towards a
snug corner at one end of the long bar.

After a satisfying meal, they settled themselves in to while away the
evening.  The bar room soon began to fill up with local townsfolk.  There
were quite a number of soldiers from the barracks.  Marlek excused himself
to Genella, and was soon in friendly conversation with the troopers,
despite being an officer.  The presence of Genella, however, rather
constrained the atmosphere; but once she had dumped a purse of silver on
the bar to signify "the drinks are on me", the liberally flowing wine and
ale soon put a very rosy complexion on matters.  It developed into a very
convivial evening.  It ended with the Doctor and Marlek discretely
supporting an all but unconscious Genella to her room.

In the morning, by arrangement, they were called before dawn.  Genella,
Sarah thought a little sourly, looked better than she had any right to
after such an evening.  Sarah's own head was buzzing fearfully.  Of
course, the Doctor was unforgivably bright and breezy, and quite
unsympathetic.

In an introspective silence, they gathered their gear and waited while
horses were saddled.  Twenty minutes later, they were off.  Outside, it
was still dark.  A thin drizzle was misting from a lowering sky.

No one spoke as the barrier was raised.  Genella hung back as they urged
the horses onto the bridge.  The Doctor looked back.  Genella's face was a
pale blur under her hood.  He could almost feel the fear emanating from
the woman.  He checked his mount, and waited while the others went ahead
through the drizzle towards the far shore.

The Doctor was on the point of turning his horse and riding back to
Genella, when she suddenly shook herself, sat straighter in the saddle,
and urged the brown mare forward.  She went past the Doctor at a smart
trot, staring straight ahead, her lips set in a thin line, her eyes fixed
ahead.  The Doctor fell in beside her.

It began to rain in earnest.

Three minutes later, in a steady down pour, they rode off the bridge and
onto the Cursed Land.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------