yellowed, much like the old man’s. Samuel felt sorry for them both.
When it began to grow dark, they slept on the roadside and ate sinewy meat that the old man boiled up in his dented, blackened pots. At first light, they would simply get up and get back on the wagon and be off again.
They passed through several villages that reminded Samuel of home in one way or another. Men loaded and unloaded wagons with fruits or vegetables or bags of grain. Women carried basketfuls or armfuls of produce. They gave Samuel and the old man barely a moment’s attention as the two of them passed slowly by atop their rickety wagon. Occasionally, a few soldiers would overtake them on horseback with their blue and gold armour glistening, their swords swinging by their sides and Samuel thought they looked quite impressive. The old man would curse and mutter as they passed and Samuel supposed he did not like them very much at all.
The only thing that never changed was that they were always heading down. Their wagon zigzagged down hill and gully, along paths and across shallow riverbeds and hour after hour the mountains crawled away from them until the various hills they descended obscured the snowy peaks altogether. With the familiar heights now gone, too, Samuel was only just starting to realise how much his world had changed.
After several days, they reached the edge of a village that just seemed to keep getting bigger and bigger, until Samuel finally realised that this must be the town of Stable Canthem, for it was much larger than anything he could imagine. Buildings rose several levels high and were made from blocks of stone, with many bearing motifs and carvings upon their walls. People seemed to come from every direction, filling the many streets that crossed and joined. It was a very busy place, indeed, and more streets and buildings lay all around in every direction as far as Samuel could see.
After voyaging deep into the town, turning many corners and crossing many streets, the wagon abruptly halted in front of a tall building.
‘Here you are,’ the old man said, still holding the reins and sucking on his pipe. ‘You go on inside now.’
Samuel grabbed his bag and leapt to the ground. The wagon started off again without another word and the old man and wagon both were immediately swallowed up by the throngs of people. Samuel looked about whilst standing nervously in front of the tall building, watching as the people and animals and vehicles passed by making all manner of noises. When nothing else happened after a time, and the busy street continued to flow past him, Samuel turned about and faced the building he had been set before, with his bag clutched firmly in his hands, and swallowed.
He was eyeing its wide door with great apprehension and wondering whether or not he should knock, when it opened and a girl of about his own age stood looking out at him. The first thing Samuel could remember thinking was that she had a fine glow, indeed.
She looked a little surprised at first and stood waiting for him to say something, until realisation crossed her face. ‘Oh, you must be Samuel,’ she said and smiled. ‘I am Jessicah. I’m very pleased to meet you.’
She curtsied politely and Samuel stood dumbfounded.
‘Ah,’ he finally managed. ‘I’m Samuel.’ And he bowed a little bow, not knowing what else to do.
The girl giggled and stepped down onto the street. She took his hand in hers and led him back inside.
‘Welcome to the Three Toads Inn,’ she said, waving her other hand grandly as they crossed the threshold and she laughed. ‘It’s a terrible name, I know, but Father likes it. I’ll go fetch him.’
She closed the door and the cacophony outside immediately dropped to a subdued hum. Dropping his hand, Jessicah disappeared through a narrow doorway on the far side of the room, leaving Samuel alone in the great room.
The first thing he noticed was that the place smelled terrible, like something sour and stale, and it made him screw up his nose. Everything was made from once-expensive timbers, but time seemed to have had its way with the place. The walls and floor were covered in holes or makeshift patches that had become permanent fixtures. Every length of timber or piece of wall was scratched, chipped or marked in some way. Small, round tables and chairs littered the floor and a long bench sat before several large barrels. Beside them, a narrow staircase led up to another level. Samuel looked up, open-mouthed, at the high beams and windows. He had never been in such a tall room before. He took a few cautious steps and began to peer up the stairs, before the sound of approaching footsteps made him take a quick step back.
A great rotund, red-faced man with blood splattered on his apron and all over his bare, hairy arms squeezed through the narrow doorway and stood before Samuel, scrutinising him.
‘So, you’re my brother’s lad?’ he said as he inspected Samuel. He peered down with bloodshot eyes. ‘Damn,’ he said, shaking his head, and he turned back to where he had come, leaving Samuel alone once more. His uncle’s voice then echoed out of the doorway, as if coming from the end of a long hall. ‘Go take care of him, will you?’ his voice instructed of someone.
A few moments later, curt footsteps sounded, before a lady, as bony as his uncle was fat, stepped from the doorway. She had jutting cheekbones and protruding collarbones and her nose stuck out like the sharp end of an axe.
‘Hello, Samuel,’ she said, looking him over with some consternation. ‘I am your Aunty Janet. How wonderful to see you.’ The words came out flat and distinctly insincere. ‘I’m so sorry about your parents. It’s a terrible tragedy what happened to them, but nevertheless, you are welcome to stay here with us. We’ll have the odd chore for you, of course, but I think you’ll fit in here nicely, soon enough. Unfortunately, there are no rooms to spare at the moment as we are terribly busy. There is some space in the barn where we can put a cot for you; just until something better makes itself available.’
Despite her attempts to sound comforting, Samuel thought how sharp and pointed her face looked. Somehow, it made Samuel think she was not very nice at all.
She took Samuel through the narrow door and down a hall past another few doors and out behind the inn. Some pigs and dogs were tied there in a muddy yard beside a small stable.
‘The pigs and dogs get the scraps and keep the burglars away,’ she explained. ‘Don’t get too close to the pigs, mind. They have quite a nasty bite.’
The barn was somewhat cleaner than the yard, with trampled straw thrown all over the ground. A few horses were penned in some of the stalls towards the back. They glanced momentarily at Samuel but then returned to staring at the ground. The smell of wet straw and dust filled Samuel’s nose and made it tickle and itch.
‘There’s a spare stall up the back,’ Aunt Janet disclosed. ‘It needs some tidying, so you had better get started. You will be minding the animals and tending to any needs of the guests. After you finish with your room, change the barn flooring and Jessicah will show you how to feed the animals.’
She then left him there, returning to the inn, while Samuel blinked and looked around. Flies buzzed around the horses and their droppings. The air was a haze of straw-dust. It did not look like a very comfortable place to live at all. He hoped he could move into the inn with them soon-tomorrow or the next day at the latest would be good.
Samuel pushed open the gate of his ‘room’ and coughed. It was filthy. A generous mound of manure was the centrepiece of the stall, while brooms and rakes and various tools hung from hooks on the wall. His stomach grumbled loudly as he hung up his humble bag, pulled down as small a shovel as he could find and began scooping up the dung and carrying it out into the yard. It was hard work, much harder than he was used to, and he was soon sweating as he struggled with the weight of the unwieldy shovel.
Once the majority of the mess was moved, he picked up a dustpan and a small hand-brush and began sweeping up the leftovers.
After a time, when he had done as much as he could to make the room more hospitable, Jessicah poked her head in. ‘Wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘I felt so sorry for you when Mother said you’d be staying out here, but I know you’ll manage.’
Samuel put the hand-brush down and wiped his forehead. ‘Thank you,’ he said. His eyes and nose were running from all the dust.
‘I have something for you,’ she said, stepping into the stall. To Samuel’s delight, she was carrying a hamper full of bread and fruit. ‘One of the guests ordered all this, but then got called away, so no one will miss it.’
They both squatted on the dirty floor and ate until only crumbs remained. It was perhaps the most satisfying meal Samuel could remember in all his life. Of course, he could not remember ever being hungrier in all his life, either. Afterwards, he noticed how filthy his hands were. His mother would have been so very angry to see him eat with such dirty hands, but he had been so hungry he had not even noticed.
