The evening proved surprisingly merry. Astrid and Will carried news from across Clearfall, they’d travelled widely in the preceding months, yet managed to draw stories of Woodbine and its inhabitants from all three of them. Eleanor had never seen Martha so animated and eloquent. She told her tales well, with sharp observations of her neighbours’ quirks and a knack for pace and drama.
Eventually, the Woodbine group made their way up the stairs to the pallets clustered around the chimney. Eleanor said. “That was much nicer than an evening with the goats in the Stoney Hill barn.”
Neither Smith answered but she caught a flicker of a smile dimpling Martha’s cheek before it was ruthlessly wiped away.
They woke the next morning to find the Highfells pair packing, their horse and cart already harnessed and standing outside the door.
Eleanor gasped. “How are you going to get across the Castle bridge? It’s going to take ages before it’s repaired enough for carts.”
Astrid said. “If worst comes to worst, we’ll trade ours for one on the other side, the castle’s going to have plenty, and be needing plenty too.”
All too soon, the tower was cleared of anything perishable, the fire doused, and the door closed. Will said to Evan. “We’d welcome extra hands to keep this place tidy, should the Woodbine people wish to use it.”
The two men gripped forearms as Evan replied. “Woodbine will be happy to join with Highfells in the upkeep of this waystop.”
Martha muttered. “Why is he suddenly sounding like one of your over-wordy heroes?”
Eleanor replied. “He’s clarified and agreed to a contract on behalf of the village. It sort of needs to be formal.”
They followed the other couple down the path to the Woodbine track, replaced the ingenious portable barrier of holy bushes, and went their separate ways.
***
The Tradeway junction appeared within moments of losing sight of the hidden entrance.
Evan glanced at Eleanor, then back at the road. “Farm on the way there, or back?”
Eleanor replied. “Back. I’d like to get to father’s steward and sell the wood as early as possible. The later we leave it, the more likely it his he’ll be called out to deal with something.”
Evan made no reply but continued past the track to Stoney Hill Farm.
It was late morning by the time they arrived at the city gates and Eleanor directed them through the maze of streets to the warehouses at the docks.
They were in luck. As Evan drew the cart to a halt by a large, open door, the Marchant’s steward, Master Shipwill, was standing beside it, frowning over a stack of boxes and a bundle of parchment.
Eleanor said. “Wait here.” And slipped off the cart, drawing her cloak around her to hide the far too visible mends in her skirt, why hadn’t she thought to put the sleeveless one on top this morning?
She approached the slender, stooped man and waited until he looked up. His jaw dropped. “Miss Eleanor! Are ye returned then? Your pa said you were gone away but never said where or for how long.”
Shaking her head, she replied. “Just delivering some goods for you.”
The man noticeably deflated, Eleanor held out her hand for the parchment. “Would you like me to take a look at it? You can assess the timber we’ve brought while I’m checking.”
Master Shipwill looked at the cart Eleanor indicated and the rough and ready look of the driver. “You’ve not fallen in with bad sorts, Miss?”
Eleanor smiled and patted his hand, who knew the steward of all people had worried about her? “They’re good people, just not used to town. We’ve brought you the wood I think you usually buy from the Master of Stoney Hill Farm.”
The steward scratched his shock of grey hair. “Oh, aye, he was saying it’d likely be delivered soon, wanted an advance on the payment.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened; Master Shipwill chuckled. “Never you mind, Miss, he’s not one I trust with free money, I said no.”
She replied. “Good, because he’s been cheating these villagers out of their profits for years. From now on they’ll be bringing it straight to you.”
His eyes sharpened and Eleanor gave him a hard look. “And I’ll be negotiating the price.”
Master Shipwill sighed, smiled, and handed her the parchment bundle. “I can never make head or tail of the lists from those Scattered Isles folk. You check this off while I see to your delivery, and I’ll make sure it’s a fair payment.”
He headed towards the cart, waving a couple of the dock workers over as he did. He and Evan spoke briefly, then the smith jumped down and began helping unload the cart.
Martha wandered over to where Eleanor was checking Master Shipwill’s troublesome cargo list. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure what’s in the boxes matches what’s on the list and noting anything broken.”
Martha made a face. “And he just handed you the job and expected you’d be able to do it?”
Eleanor bit down a grin. “I’ve been checking cargo manifests since I was ten. He knows I know what I’m doing.”
The other girl peered over her shoulder at the list. “That’s not even proper words! It makes no sense.”
“It’s a list written by a steward, much like Master Shipwill, in Port Watch in the Scattered Isles. She’s always busy, scribbles out lists in a huge hurry, and often uses Scattered Isles patois in place of Common Trade terms. I read and speak both, so I can puzzle it out.”
Next to the cart, Evan and Master Shipwill were apparently concluding business. Eleanor gave the steward a sharp look and he responded with a fond smile and a small bow. “The price is subject to your approval, of course, but I think you’ll accept it.”
She looked over the parchment Evan was now holding. It was a good price, fair to the villagers while allowing room for decent profit when selling the prized hardwood in Rushmouth and beyond.
She nodded, then smiled and flushed at the additional line, paying her a small but welcome fee for her translation services. No doubt the steward had heard far more than he’d let on, the awful Mrs Fisher would have been sure to spread the news of that horrible night as widely as she could.
Evan said. “We’ll be sure to come straight to you for future sales.”
Master Shipwill replied. “Be sure you do, none of the other merchants on these docks will give you the right price and be sure to bring Miss Eleanor with you as well, her skills have been sorely missed.”
They left the docks with a much lighter cart and no mention of her father.
